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snailsgoingdowntown · 1 year

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Guilt Tripping - Yan! Diluc

Yandere Diluc x Fem! Reader

part 1 of the “Baby Trapping” series

Warnings: Toxic relationship, general yandere themes, guilt tripping (I think), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming (I think?), drugging, implied future physical violence (Not towards reader), possessive and obsessive thoughts and behavior, overprotectiveness, overbearing actions, controlling actions/mindset, unhealthy and toxic mindset, paranoia, implied Yandere! Albedo (Towards a different reader of perhaps the same mini-series of this).

Not sfw warnings: Baby trapping, dub-c0n/non-c0n, unprotected sEx, cumming inside without permission, unconsensual and unethical use of aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, clothed grinding, loss of virginity (both parties and totally didn't forget to add this warning until now)

Diluc is straight up gaslighting himself in this. He’s aware of how awful he is but keeps justifying it lmao.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the toxic behavior and thoughts that may take place in this work of fiction. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is very toxic and very dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE WRITTEN ABOVE. THANK YOU.

MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.

Unedited.

Word count: 5134k

===

Diluc was aware that he could be… overbearing, at times. He’s aware that his presence can be suffocating, that he can be a bit delusional at times, and that he’s a bit controlling when it comes to you. But be doesn’t mean to do that on purpose – you just manage to bring out both the worse and the best out of him.

Whether or not you’re aware of that fact is up for debate.

He’s been preparing for the day you snap and talk back, or to take some ‘much needed’ space from the relationship. He can’t deny that your sanity is slowly withering away the more you deal with him. Again, he doesn’t mean to make you so stressed.

He just wants what’s best for you, as long as you come back into his arms. There are understandings at times, where you listen instead of charging away like a bull. He knows that you know he cares deeply for you, loves you to the moon and back. That he’d be willing to do almost anything for you.

Anything but this.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

One sentence, five words, is all it takes for his words to come crashing down around him. ‘I need a break’ implies you’ll be back after a week or so. It’s happened once or twice throughout your entire two years of your relationship. And it never lasted more than a week, max.

Diluc can feel the thin thread snapping like a nose around a neck. He swears that the world comes to a halt at your words, seeing nothing but white. Is he undergoing shock? Perhaps he heard you wrong. Yeah, that’s it – you must have said something else. A prank maybe? Or maybe you mixed up your words.

“What… what do you mean?” He hates the way his voice cracks, how shaky his hands become, even when they’re clenched hard enough to snap metal into two. Your facial expression doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.

There’s nothing playful about this situation.

You let out a sigh, fingers massaging your temple. “I said… I’m breaking up with you. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deal with you anymore.” Your voice cracks, and there’s a silent sob. There’s a huff, an intake of air.

You’re trying your best not to break down in front of him. And he’s doing the same, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks of something to say. What should he say? That you can’t leave? It’ll only make things more complicated, making you hostile towards him.

He can’t have that. He just can’t. but even so, he finds himself about to utter those words out loud. He bites his tongue.

“…I thought I was good to you. While… I do understand that I can get overbearing at times… I thought I was a good lover to you regardless of.” He tries to keep himself in check. Diluc was nothing but a good gentleman in your eyes, so he acts as such. Although, that illusion may be gone now.

“That’s the problem! You think you’re a good boyfriend. But you’re not. you’re so… overbearing and controlling. I can’t even talk to people you don’t approve of!” Your own thread had seemingly snapped, leaving nothing more than rage behind. Quite, dull rage that’s too exhausting to come out at once.

“You say it’s for my own good… that I need your protection…”

“I never said that- “

“You implied it. Every. Single. Time. you always imply it.”

There’s nothing but silence. There’s a guilty conscience. He can’t ignore it, but he won’t address it. Because that means he’ll have to let go. And he won’t, not even in death, where hell will surely drag him down. He’ll drag you if he has to.

“We can… let’s just talk about this, okay? No need to make any rash decisions.” He’s talking out of his ass right now. “It’s… been a stressful week. It’s late and we both got out of work not too long ago. Let’s just… how about you come over?”

You don’t say anything, not at first. A glimmer of hope. Yes, everything will go back to normal, over a glass or two, ending with you being a whimpering mess as he grinds against you. Just like always.

“No. I can’t… I won’t do that. It always has the same outcome anyway. We never ‘talk’, you just sweet talk your way out, and it ends with some type of sexual activity.” You shake your head, taking a step back. He takes a step forward.

It feels wrong for you to stand so far away. Alien. You should be next to him, no, in his arms as he soothes you. Reality and fantasy don’t mix well, he realizes. “Please,” he tries again, choking on air.

It can’t end like this. It can’t end at all.

“Diluc… I can’t. I just can’t. I know it may be hard for you to understand but, whether you realize it or not… you treat me like a doll. A pretty, fragile, glass doll.” You don’t look him in the eyes, probably can’t.

To be fair, it felt worse on your own end. You loved this man. You wanted to marry him. But it’s in past tense and you’re not sure if you can keep up this happy façade. He’s nothing but controlling at this point, overprotective, suffocating. You can’t live in denial anymore.

Another sigh, another sob. With every step he takes towards you, you take one back. There’s an invisible wall between you, too hard to shatter. At least completely.

“Hey… let’s talk again in a week. When the steam blows off, okay?” You try not to break, he sees it. The way your body tenses, the slight tumble. He makes an effort to not point it out. “Please?”

And you cave, breaking down, wailing like a child. You don’t move away, only flinching as he closes in on you, gently and slowly wrapping his arms around you. his grip on you is loose, not wanting to chase you away. Gentle, he must be gentle.

It’s always worked in the past. He just needs to tweak a few things to guarantee victory. Anything for you, no matter how shady it may be. His morals become dubious when it comes to you.

A few minutes pass before you answer.

“Alright.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to go, your resolve going down the drain whenever it came to you. But you had already promised you would, weak in that moment. But he knew. He knew that you would eventually succumb to his wishes. It happens every time.

And it ends with heated kisses, hands exploring each other’s bodies, promises to wait for the full act after marriage huffed into your ears. Despite the bulge straining in his pants, hazy eyes that kept looking at your kiss swollen lips, he never did anything you were uncomfortable with. And for that, you were grateful. But it doesn’t excuse his other behavior.

Something didn’t feel right. You were nothing short of tense, weary of what’s to come. Would he try to pull something? Or procced to guilt trip you once more, as unknowingly as usual? You could never tell with him, despite dating for two years.

Two years and he became a different person.

No. Beneath that gentlemanly exterior lies a control, obsessive and possessive freak. And you fell for it, the charm, the words, the looks. You dug your own grave without even knowing. And now it’s time to dig your way out, no matter how painful it may be.

You just hope your resolve will stay strong.

It must.

Diluc was nervous. It was more common these days, a nervous Diluc. He can’t help it but to be nervous around you. You were just so pretty, adorable, irresistible. And there was a time where you thought the same, where you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him. And yet, you don’t anymore.

He’s aware why. It’s because of him. But you need to understand was for your protection. He has too many enemies, there’s too much danger in the outside world. Surly, you would come around eventually, right?

Wrong. He was so, so wrong. He should have kept up with the gentle approach, no matter the amount of years it might have taken. It’s not too late to restart… right?

Just act the way you always portrayed him as. His mask has slipped too much too quickly. And now, he needs to fix everything as quickly as possible. The question is how to.

He glances at the wine bottle. A little drug as curiosity of Sir Albedo… a new and up coming drug. An aphrodisiac is what he called it. It was still in its developmental stages, but harmless. He was even given the right dose.

A questioning look in the alchemist’s eyes, no concerns were voiced. Most likely thought it wasn’t his business. And besides… even the esteemed Alchemist Albedo Kreideprinz had skeletons in his closet. Likeminded people must stick together, right?

And thus, the aphrodisiac was handed to him under the table, and now in this ‘new’ and ‘unopened’ bottle of wine. The cork was a new one, the previous one hastily thrown into the trash, covered with other discarded things. Not a smooth cover-up, but one you wouldn’t notice. And, if you were to ask for juice, he even drugged that beforehand.

He flinches slightly when a servant comes up to him, announcing your appearance. He takes in a deep breath before grabbing the bottle and two glasses, making his way to the study. When he gets there, he pauses. Would he be able to pull this off?

If you do ask for it, he has your consent, right? Yes, you wanted to save yourself for marriage but…

He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He’ll back down if he thinks about too much. So, he takes a deep breath, straightens himself. His feet feel heavy as he walks into the room. He keeps the door open.

“(name). You came.”

You jolt at that, whipping your head around to see his figure at the doorway.

“Yes… just for a bit. This isn’t a casual visit, after all.” You built a wall around yourself, trying to smile but failing. He doesn’t comment on it.

“Ah. I suppose that’s… right.” Awkward silence, your hands tightly clasping together. His own grip on the glasses and bottle are tight as well. Swiftly, he places the objects down on the table in front of you. Everything has to be perfect. This night needs to end on a good note.

“Wine?” he asks, eyeing the way your jaw tenses as you hesitate to answer. You want to say no, he can see it, feel it. And hopefully, you won’t. His legs are already shaking like a newborn foal’s.

“I… sure.” A quiet sigh of relieve, and he opens the bottle, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the room. You don’t take your eyes off of it. You’re weary of him. And he doesn’t have the right to complain or even feel offended.

Because you were right to be weary. To be weary of him.

He pours you a glass and himself one. He’s going to take the drug with you. God, he’s already silently regretting this. Not because he’s tricking you (although that’s part of it), but because he’ll have to explain, in detail (something he dreads, but a favor is a favor) of the results. He hates himself for being used a test subject and ragging you into it.

He can’t feel bad, considering he was the one who chose this route.

“Thank you…” you say as he passes a glass to you. He sits in front of you, the plush chair soft against him. He takes a sip.

“So… about our relationship… do you truly want to end it? We can work through this together.” He croaks out, trying his best not to ramble. He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves. He can do this.

“… I’m not sure if this relationship is savable. Two years and you’ve just gotten… worse. Much worse than you have gotten better. It’s like you’ve been possessed.” He can see your eyes water up, but you don’t let them fall.

He wants to wipe them away.

“What do you mean?” He’s never felt so scared in his life. He hates this. He hates himself. “It’s just… I know I can get overbearing, and I promise that I don’t do it on purpose-“

You cut him off, “That’s the problem. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s harder to resent you that way.”

Resent him? What do you mean by that?

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do. You’re… you used to be a good boyfriend. Someone I wanted to marry… but you’re not that same person anymore. And I’m not sure if we can fix this… if you can fix yourself. I’m not a therapist… yet you treated me as one for years.”

Your shoulders slack and you don’t make an effort to look at him. You don’t make an effort to drink the wine either.

He can feel his heart breaking. What should he do? What can he do? Crying (a rare sight indeed) won’t do anything. It’ll only prove you right if he cries and begs for you to reconsider. He needs you to drink the wine. A good amount of it.

He takes another swing, enough to the point the glass is almost empty. Too much at once, he hasn’t even eaten yet. He wants to eat you. But not when you’re crying like this.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was that… inconsiderate.” Ever so slowly, he takes small steps towards you. You don’t resist when he gets on his knees, gently placing his head on your lap. His arms wrap around your legs. And, almost as if it was natural, your hand comes town to thread fingers through his hair.

Even when you ‘resent’ him, you still comfort him. You really were too good for him. But it’s because of that he doesn’t want to let go. No. he’d never let you go. He’ll drag you to hell if he has to.

“… To think the esteemed Diluc would beg on his knees… hah,” a humorless laugh that shakes him through his core. You sound tired, so, so tired. You’re really going to give up on him. Was he really that bad? Sure, maybe he overshared, at times, and was a bit controlling, but…

He never hit you. Never raised his voice at you.

He’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit to his mistakes right now. He’ll do it (probably) after you two make up. He’ll do it once you say you won’t leave, that you won’t give up on him, on the relationship. You’re all he has left.

His father’s dead, his ‘brother’ is a spy, he can’t really get along with anyone on an emotional level. Anyone except you. You know this, so why are you putting him through this? Can’t you see he needs you?

God helps the poor soul would dare take you away.

“… I’m sorry. I really am,” useless, he’s so useless right now. Helpless, he hates himself, he hates you. “I… can’t lose you. I love you, you know that, right?” Like he wasn’t the one pushing you away with his behavior and actions.

He’s a horrible person, a dreadful and emotional abusive boyfriend. The naked eye can’t see it, but a trained one can. Likeminded people can. The victim can.

“Diluc… sit down, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick,” you run your fingers through his red mop of hair before retreating it. No, no, no, you can’t do that. You just can’t.

You have to drink the wine. You need to understand he’s protecting you. You need to understand he needs you. So, stay, please.

Don’t make things even more complicated.

“… do you love me?” He looks up, eyes glossy and he watches as your strong façade crumble. He was your weakness as you were his. You’re perfect for each other, however toxic the relationship may be.

“I… I don’t know anymore. I feel like I love you, but I know I shouldn’t.” Shaking your head, you gently push at his shoulders. The effort is weak, almost meaningless. He gives a squeeze before getting up and returning to his seat.

It’s when he sits down, head falling into his hands, when you take a swing. He hears you slam the glass on the mahogany wood. Hope lights up in his chest, but even so, it feels so wrong. But he needs to do this. For him. For you.

How selfish of a person he was.

“… I can’t promise I won’t fall back into the habit, but –“

“You said that last time. And here we are, again. You say you’ll do better, that you’ll listen. Sure, you do, but only for a week. And then the cycle repeats.” You sigh out, now crying, finally breaking down despite everything.

Sobs, ugly sobs that he hates to hear. He’s not sure when he got up, or how long he’s been hugging you, but he knows that you need comfort. Maybe not from him, but he’s the only one here anyway. The servants are outside, cleaning the yard, tending to the grapes, shooing of pests.

Just you and him. No-one will hear, and even if they did… who are they to question their boss? Money talks.

You stay like that, for a while. Crying in his arms as he strokes your hair. He’s not sure when you had stopped, and completely forgotten about the drug.

He only remembers it when his body starts to heat up. And the same must be said for you, as you’re quivering in his grasp. The way you quiver whenever he drags you across his crotch, erection making contact with your clothed pussy.

Like right now, your hips rolling against his as he practically dragged you to the couch in the study once you started to kiss out of pure lust. You’re panting above him, eyes shut tight. Maybe you didn’t want to see him. He hates it, but that’s okay. As long as you’re here, with him, and not thinking of another man.

“Fuck… my body’s hot. I’m scared yet I can’t stop… did you put something in the drink?” You question him, voice broken and breathy as you keep rolling your hips. Harder, faster, more friction, you need him as much as he needs you. He’ll get you, and you’ll have him.

Like it’s supposed to be.

“Are you… mmh… that weary of me?” You’re far too gone to properly hear him, chasing pleasure above answers. His gloved fingers tug at your skirt, wanting it off. He wants to see you bare. Patience... patience, he tells himself.

A squeal, mouth open and he can’t help but kiss you. saliva everywhere, any pretense of a breakup gone. For now. And yet you both don’t care, delving into the pits of pleasure that’ll never be enough. He bites your lips hard enough to draw blood, you claw at his neck deep enough to see crimson.

You hurt and take, hurt and take. You break his heart, he’ll break your mind on his cock. Just… be good.

“Diluc… wedding… I want to wait – oh! – but… ah… not sure if I can…” you’re groping yourself, thumb ribbing at where your nipple would be. Too many clothes, hot, clit throbbing while grinding against him like there’s no tomorrow. Diluc takes this chance to tease you, just a bit.

“Wedding… you still want to marry me?” There’s a slight teasing to it, and he proceeds to kiss your neck. Gently, gently, so gentle you want more. He wants to drive you crazy. “But, of course, if you want it now, I won’t say no…”

Another moan, another messy kiss. Your lips are raw by now, and you’re not sure when he dragged the front of your shirt down, sucking on the bare skin before him. He bites your neck, leaving marks, he gropes your breasts, your hands now tugging at his hair.

He hisses at the sting, but it only drives him to do more. His free hand dives under your dress, the skirt of it wrinkled now.

“Diluc… please, fuck, I need you,” you breathe out, grinding against his hand as he teases you through your underwear. Slowly, he brings his hand back, using his teeth to take his glove off. Almost, he’s almost there. He needs to loosen you up. Hopefully, hopefully this drug will help with the pain.

Ah. Blood.

He needs to do this in the bedroom, easier to change the sheets.

You’re naked in no time, and despite the drug running through your veins like fire, you’re still scared. Very scared, and he feels so horrible about it. and yet, yet he can’t stop himself for shit. He’s horrible, shitty, controlling, obsessive, possessive, and desperate. Paranoid to a fault, he plans on tying you to him via family.

It’s hard to raise a child on your own. Reputation is important, and everyone would lose respect for you, for a good while at first. And besides… they would know who the father was. If they inherit his features, be it the red hair or ruby eyes, they’ll know. They’ll blame one of you, both of you, taking one side or the other.

Thus, it’s just overall easier to stay together, avoiding controversy. A horrible and risky plan. But you would need the support, the funds, the father. It’s harder, nearly impossible to run away from him in such a state.

“Hey… it’ll be okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?” He reassures you, smiling down at you gently. He’s always imagined you like this – a panting mess, lips kiss swollen, hair sprayed around his pillow and your hair. Bite marks everywhere, nipples tendered from being sucked on so much.

He’ll make a mental note to be more gentle next time. But for now, he trails down his hand, fingers ghosting over your burning skin. Shaky breaths, and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you stare downwards. He’s naked too, his own hickies littering his neck like a necklace.

“G-gentle…,” you breathe out, legs shaking in both fear and anticipation. You can’t wait, and neither can he. So he doesn’t, tracking your slick slit once before slowly entering. A gasp, and h looks up to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of you biting your lips, pleasure written all over your face. The drug works, it’s helping with the pain. Making things far easier than he thought it would be. He’ll make sure to thank Albedo to the moon and back.

“Diluc…” He’s brought back to reality when you whimper his name, and he softly shushes you. If you say his name like that one more time, he might just slip in without any prep. Without any consideration.

“Shh… there’s no need to rush. Let’s try to take our time, okay?” He kisses your forehead, finger curling slightly inside you. The way you arch your back is heavenly, the drug making you far more sensitive. “I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”

Nodding, you relax, allowing him to add a second finger. It feels rushed despite his words, but you don’t comment on it. You can’t, not when he’s curling them oh so deliciously. And he knows this, he’s not completely lost in lust just yet. He needs to drown you in pleasure, drive you crazy with it before he succumb to his own desire completely.

Just a bit more.

The squelching echoes in his room, bouncing off the walls. His ribs had become a drum, his heart the stick. Small, needy breaths that leave your lips, crying out when he curls his fingers at a certain angle. Oh. He found it.

Your g-spot.

He’s heard of it, and thought it was rubbish at first. Until Adelinde smacked his head when he suggested such a thing. The Head Maid made sure to educate him on sex that day, showing diagrams and pictures, along with books written about the subject. He’s almost entirely forgotten about it.

“There?” he asks, repeating the action once more. You nod your head several times and in quick succession – too lucid to properly beg, too desperate to fully think it thoroughly. “Such a needy little thing,” a third finger elicits a hiss from you, causing him to pause. He waits until you give him the green light.

“It – it feels weird… but good at the same time. Is this normal?” Croaking, you’re croaking out sentences now, and Diluc resists the urge to kiss you until you run out of breath. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, trembling slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from fear or pleasure.

For his own sanity, he hopes it’s the latter.

“I’m… not sure. I think it is. Just tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll slow down.”

He didn’t say he would stop.

Diluc sees the worry in your eyes, the questions he won’t answer, and he feels guilty. It’s far too late to stop, and even if you were to ask him of it, he wouldn’t be able to. So he gives you the illusion of choice, and from the way your eyes travel down to where he’s fingering you, he can only guess you chose to ignore the reasoning in your head. What a good girl you are for and to him. Like always.

“Diluc… Diluc…” your eyes shut tight, breathing heavier as he fastens his pace, fingers pumping in and out while curling all the same. You need this too, right? He can’t force you if you were the one who asked for it.

Your belly tightens, and hips grind against the hell of his palm. You’re almost there, he thinks. You’re becoming wild, all pretense of rationally gone with the wind. He’s there, he’s there, you’re there, shivering in the palm of his hand. Like you should be.

“Ah, ah, fuck!” One more buck of your hips and he feels something wet. Upon looking down, he notices something red, very thing and small, mixed with a clear liquid. Did you cum? He feels bad for making you bleed already*.

Your chest heaves, and for a moment, he’s afraid you’ll come back to your sense. You’ll hate him for sure. But his own body is burning, cock twitching, and he’s going to die if you resist. Please, just make everything simple and easy. Please, for both of your sakes.

He gives you time to recover despite the urge to fuck you silly. Patience, patience, at least pretend to be a gentleman he tells himself. Anything and everything for you. Except letting you go.

“Do you need a breather?” gently, gently he removes his fingers, trying his best to treat you nicely. He tries not to grit his teeth when you nod your head. He’s already doing something awful. He needs to make you comfortable, at the very least.

A few minutes before you calm down, laying flat on your back, hands leaving him and choosing to grip his sheets instead. You’re distancing yourself from him. A bit lucid, but enough to resist.

“Alright… please be gentle,” closing your eyes, your arousal is still there, you still need him as badly as he needs you. He doesn’t wait a second to hover above you properly. His place, this is his place, you’re his and will always be his. You signed your faith the moment you appeared in his life.

“Gentle…,” he tells himself, taking in a deep breath. It stings you when he pushes in, slowly and gentle like he promised. Hands grip your hips, and he leans back on his heels a bit. You gasp, from pleasure mostly, and he stills. Be a gentleman in appearance, at least.

One second, two seconds, and at ten he starts to move. a deep sigh of pleasure from you both, yours higher than his. The tone was different compared to when you dragged your hips across his, clothes separating you. But now, now he can feel everything – the thought of a condom never having crossed your mind once. Good, everything is sailing smoothly.

“You’re, ngh, tight… fuck, you’re driving me crazy angel.” Unexpectedly, you mewl at the nickname, and without meaning too, he gives a hard thrust. Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him. One thrust, two thrust, and you’re begging him to fuck you harder at the fifth one, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his chest.

He loves you like this; he wants you remain so needy for him. “Diluc! Fuck, don’t stop!” Both blood and slick cover his cock and make a mess on his bed. He’ll have to give you a warm towel after this, a glass of water. And a lie about cumming inside.

“It feels good, fuck why did we wait so long?” His hips can’t stop moving as he questions you. You don’t answer, you can’t when you’re moaning like a whore. And he loves it, he loves the fact that only he can make you this way. He loves the fact that he’ll be your first and last partner.

He might hurt a man who would dare to attempt to do the same.

It doesn’t last long, neither of you do. He makes sure to circle your clit with his thumb, wanting to bring you more pleasure. You needed to finish with him. You needed to be distracted from the feeling of his cum painting your womb white.

And when he does, he lets out a low groan, your squeal music to his ears. he holds you tight until his balls are empty. And ever so slowly pulls out, careful to not alarm you. His goal was done, and hopefully, this’ll be enough to get you pregnant.

If not, he’ll come up with other plans.

“I love you…” one of his hands comes down to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. Your skin is sticky, eyes dazed. It’s a sight he’ll never forget.

You don’t answer, not at first.

“I… I love you too.”

A soft peck and he’s up to soak a towel in warm water. You’re too tired to check your lower half, eyes closing against your will. But it’s okay, it’s Diluc after all. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything… right?

As for Diluc… he’s already coming up with baby names.

===

A/N:* - tmi but the very first time I got fingered, I bleed a bit lmao. I don’t know how it is for everyone else, so I just used my own experiences. Seriously though, acting like Diluc in this fic is fucked up. Please don’t do that.

#Yandere #tw:yandere #yandere genshin #yandere diluc #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader

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flowerandblood · 8 months

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The Pearl and the Sapphire (4)

[ modern! • Aemond x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession ]

[description: As a representative of a large family-owned gemstone business, Aemond is attending a major jewellery event where jewellery makers from all over the world are exhibiting. One of them is the Baratheon family. Aemond is tasked with focusing on attracting new customers, but his attention is diverted by the youngest daughter of the eminent maker Borros Baratheon. Slow burn, bitchy, possessive and obsessive Aemond, lots of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request + my sweet @valeskafics)]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in modern times. The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Series moodboard: Aemond & Miss Baratheon

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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As soon as she entered his room she wondered in her slightly unsober mind what she was actually doing. She watched as he took two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and walked towards the open living room, while she thought strenuously about whether he would add something to her drink if she just went to the toilet for a moment.

She knew nothing about him.

He was a stranger to her.

She was snapped out of her reverie by his low voice, the look in his healthy eye dark and expectant.

"What does he want from you?" He asked directly, without any warning, as if they had known each other forever, and he was her friend to whom she was about to tell her heartfelt dilemmas.

She swallowed quietly at the thought, moving slowly towards the couch and sat down on it. Targaryen immediately sat down next to her, but not too close, allowing her to keep her distance. He poured what was left in the bottle into their glasses, waiting patiently for her response.

With a trembling hand, she opened her clutch bag and took out her phone. She unlocked it and began to read the messages she had received from Cregan.

She swallowed loudly, struggling to hold back tears, locking the screen back, putting the phone again in her purse. She couldn't believe in what she just read, her heart pounding like crazy, her head humming from the wine and stress.

She had spent so many months getting herself together, to accept the fact that he didn't want her, and now he claimed he had changed his mind?

"Question for question." She said abruptly, looking at him tiredly. She recognised that if she was to externalise herself to him, he had to reciprocate.

They knew nothing about each other.

He looked at her intensely for a moment, indecision painted on his face. He was apparently considering all the pros and cons, but in the end he grunted and nodded. She looked down at her hands.

"My ex-boyfriend wanted to be my friend. Months later, when I finally got myself together, he decided he had made a mistake. That maybe we should get back together after all." She choked out with difficulty, reaching for her glass and taking a loud sip from it. She saw that he moved restlessly, playing with his fingers stretched out on his knee, tense. She felt he wanted to say something, but she didn't give him the chance.

"You and the woman you were with at the banquet. Are you two together?" She asked uncertainly, arranging herself comfortably on the sofa, taking a sip of wine, looking at him intently. She saw his whole body tense up, he wasn't looking at her but ahead.

"No." He replied coolly, immediately pressing his glass to his lips.

"Why did you break up?" He asked almost immediately, and she twisted in her seat feeling her heart pounding.

She felt shame.

Why did they break up?

Because she was insufficient?

Because he wasn't ready?

She lifted her legs and tucked them under her thighs, changing positions slightly and sighed quietly.

"He wanted to have some more fun." She said quietly, feeling him give her a sudden, surprised look and move as if he wanted to say something.

"Are you sleeping with her?" She asked suddenly, looking down at her glass, which she held in her hands.

She needed to know.

She needed to know who she was dealing with.

He was silent for too long for her to realise what his answer would be.

"Yes." He said, but there was a kind of withdrawal and uncertainty in his voice that surprised her, as if he really didn't want to admit it.

She looked at him thoughtfully recognising that he was a very insecure man hiding behind a mask of indifference and coldness. She concluded that there was no point in her trying to understand him or his relationship. She opened her mouth wanting to ask at last the question that had been pressing on her lips since she had entered his room.

"Why did you want us to come here?"

He looked at her horrified and went pale, swallowing loudly, twisting uncertainly in his seat, looking away. She pressed her lips together, feeling that they both subconsciously knew answer to this question.

She thought that there was nothing wrong with what they wanted. Since he claimed he wasn't in a relationship with his assistant, and she wasn't in a relationship with Cregan, they were free people.

She looked at him, at his scarred cheek, at his artificial eye. She looked at his jaw, at his nose, his mouth, his hair. He was handsome, he was dark, cold.

She thought he attracted her.

“You can say it. It’s okay.” She said quietly and softly, wanting him to know that she wasn't judging or condemning him, that she appreciated how honest he was with her. She knew what she could count on and what she couldn't and it gave her a kind of security.

She saw him lick his lips nervously and move his shoulders, swallowing hard without looking at her, playing with the glass in his hand.

“I want it.” He whispered almost silently, his lower lip trembling as he spoke the words.

She lowered her gaze at his words, embarrassed, feeling her insides pulsate involuntarily at the very thought of what could happen between them. She lifted her gaze to him and, seeing that he still couldn't look at her, she set her glass down, moving closer to him, sitting on her knees.

She saw him look at her surprised and horrified as she grasped his large hand gently, her thumb running gently over his soft skin. They were both warm from the alcohol and the tension. She saw him swallow quietly, then lean back and set his glass down on the table.

He looked at her as if hesitating, and after surprising her by grasping her face in his hands, he moved closer to her, looking at her with slightly parted lips.

Only now could she see his scar more clearly, his glassy, artificial eye and the healthy one looking at her with a hazy, dark gaze.

She thought she was not afraid of him.

That she wanted to touch him.

When he leaned towards her she moved closer to him, their lips brushed uncertainly, tentatively. They both sighed and kissed again, just as gently, unhurriedly, as if to see if they liked the feeling, his lips firm and warm, tasting of wine. She threw her arms around his neck and he purred into her mouth, emboldened by the gesture.

Only now did she feel that he was much bigger than her, taller even than Cregan, she had the feeling that he encircled her whole person and she felt safe with that thought.

"I want to taste you." He whispered and she felt a powerful shudder, her insides clenching helplessly around nothing. "Will you let me?"

She felt shame at the thought of how much she wanted this.

She couldn't hide what was happening between her legs. As soon as he slipped her underwear off her thighs he could see what his words, his temper and his appearance were doing to her. He touched her leaking entrance gently, watching carefully for her reactions. She shuddered and moaned helplessly, delicate and hypersensitive.

He did what he wanted with her, teasing her clit with his thumb while sinking his finger into her hot entrance once in a while. She breathed loudly, trying to meet his expectations and answer his questions.

"− what made you so wet? − hm? − messages from your ex? −" He hissed, his finger sliding in and out of her with a perverted, sticky click of her own wetness. He tightened his lips as soon as she squirmed at his words, turning her head away, writhing beneath him.

"− answer me −"

"− no −" She mumbled with difficulty, and he hummed under his breath with the satisfaction, leaning between her thighs. She couldn't stand his subtle caresses, she hadn't expected him to be so gentle, the tip of his tongue teasing her entrance and clit, barely slipping in between her folds.

"− I fucking knew it − I knew you would taste wonderful −" He exhaled, pressing his nose against her warm womanhood. His tongue slided suddenly into her swollen, fleshy interior, licking her shamelessly, her hands tightened involuntarily on his hair pressing him closer, a quiet mewling came out of her mouth.

She was horrified at how close she had come to fulfilment, at how easily he had brought her body to such a state.

When she came on his face she lost touch with reality completely for a moment, panting loudly, clenching her eyes shut, the tickling heat spreading throughout her body, loosening her muscles.

She looked up at him sleepily when she heard the sound of fabric being unfastened and saw that his hands were at his zipper, his pupil dilated, his gaze thirsty and hot.

"You still want this?"

She nodded.

She let him carry her onto his bed, his arms holding her gently and tenderly. She hugged his neck and felt a pleasant buzz in her head as he laid her down on the sheets. She swallowed loudly as she watched him put a condom on his swollen, hard manhood and pressed her lips together at the thought of actually doing it.

She felt her insides pulsate again at the thought.

Her heart was pounding like crazy.

He leaned over her, his gaze full of something she couldn't name. It was dark, murky, but warm at the same time, full of affect, although she didn't know why. For some reason she sensed he would not be violent towards her and she felt a momentary relaxation.

"Already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed. How tight and hot you must be inside." He exhaled, guiding the tip of his cock against her hypersensitive entrance. She opened her mouth, drawing in a deep breath at his words.

Already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed.

That's why he was looking at her like that.

She felt a strong shudder pass through her at the thought.

When she felt him inside her she closed her eyes, sighing with effort and relief at the same time. He was big and pulsating, pushing her tight walls to their limits, making it hard for her to catch her breath. He looked at her as if he couldn't believe they were really doing this, his lips parted in an accelerated breath.

They both moaned in surprise at as he began to move inside her, slowly at first, as if he wanted to savour this moment and the feeling of her throbbing, warm walls.

After a moment, his hips began to accelerate, stretching her insides to the limit, pulsing on him with desire. She had already forgotten how wonderfully pleasurable it was, her lips parted in accelerated gasps each time he rubbed the point inside her that made her hot.

"− oh, baby −" He exhaled, speeding up, entering her with a loud, wet slap of flesh against flesh, looking at her with an expression of delight on his face.

She wasn't sure if Cregan had ever looked at her like that.

She felt her insides tighten around his length at that thought, with every thrust he made, the slap of his thighs against her buttocks, it felt better and better, as if she realised that she really did want this.

She wanted him.

She touched his cheek with her palm as he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, deeply, devotedly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"− you like it when someone takes care of you, don't you? − when someone fucks you properly −" He gasped fucking her faster and faster, she felt the whole bed creak beneath them, his hands clenched tightly on her hips, his body focused only on pushing his cock into her again and again.

She felt the heat in her lower abdomen reach its zenith again, a mewling sound erupted from her mouth that was also meant to be a pathetic confirmation of his words, her lips parted wide.

"− I'm gonna cum now, okay? − I'm gonna cum inside my sweet little girl −" He exhaled and she nodded quickly, feeling his words between her thighs, sensing that her fulfilment was rapidly approaching, that just a few more of his movements and she would come again.

"− oh, yes, please −" She mumbled, feeling his hand begin to tease her clit again.

They both moaned loudly into each other's mouths, feeling each other's orgasms, she heard him sigh helplessly as he felt her core clench violently against him again and again, his cock twitching and pulsing inside her in fulfilment.

Looking misty-eyed at his face, at his clenched eyes, feeling his nose pressed against her cheek, his lips trailing over hers, his trembling hot breath enveloping her skin, some part of her regretted that he had to use a condom, that she couldn't feel his semen inside her. She blushed at the thought, panting loudly, embarrassed at the idea.

They stroked each other's faces with their palms, breathing fast and trembling all over, trying to calm each other down, when suddenly someone started pounding on his door with their fist.

"Aemond? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you in there with?" She heard a raised, distraught female voice and looked at him with big eyes, horror on his face, he shook his head quickly, his mouth formed the voiceless words "Be quiet".

"Aemond!" The woman started pounding on the door and pawing at the handle, she felt her whole body start to quiver, she sobbed quietly. He laid on top of her and embraced her as if he wanted to comfort her and protect her from what was happening.

"You fucking bastard! Are you fucking this little girl? This little slut? God fucking damn you! How could you do this to me!" She heard her angry voice followed by sobs. She herself began to cry hearing it, in her head the words she had spoken.

Are you fucking this little girl?

This little slut?

Why did she feel like a whore if they weren't together?

"What have we done?" She asked in a terrified whisper, feeling his lips pressed against her temple.

"Shhh." He silenced her by stroking her head, she could feel his heart pounding hard.

He was as terrified as she was.

She cried out quietly in his arms hearing her for a moment longer, and then she heard someone in the distance open and close the door loudly.

Complete silence ensued.

She swallowed loudly, his hand steadily stroking her head snuggled into the hollow of his neck, only after a moment did she realise he was still deep inside her.

Seconds later he lifted himself up on his elbows, glancing down at her most likely to see what state she was in. She could see that he was also shaken, both of them looking at each other breathing unevenly.

"You can sleep here if you want. I'll give you my shirt." He said uncertainly and she blinked, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.

He was proposing that she stay with him for the night.

Probably through remorse.

She shook her head and saw that an expression of disappointment flashed across his face, his jaw clenched tightly, his nostrils moved anxiously.

"I can't. I'll be up all night dreading that she's coming here again. I won't sleep a wink." She explained in a trembling voice, wanting him to know that this wasn't about him. He swallowed loudly at her words and nodded, then slowly pulled himself out of her.

She gasped in discomfort and clenched her eyes shut, feeling a sudden chill and emptiness inside her, his hand stroking her cheek reassuringly.

"Shhh. Wait here a minute, okay? Don't go anywhere." He said pulling up his trousers and getting out of bed to disappear into the bathroom a moment later. She sat on his bed only now feeling that her whole body was shaking from stress, her eyes burning from crying.

A minute later he came out of the toilet, a wet towel and a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to her, his hand with the damp material slipped between her thighs. She clenched them, frightened, but he looked at her calmly.

"Let me. I don't want you to leave my room in this condition." He said lowly, and she felt a warmth spread over her heart that she didn't want to feel at all.

She relaxed her hips and felt the warm, wet towel wipe her clean of all her sticky juices, bringing her relief and comfort. She involuntarily took a few deep sips of water from the glass feeling her throat dry up after what had happened.

As soon as he finished he rose and she stood up with him, covering her thighs with her dress, moving on shaky legs towards the sofa to get her underwear, putting it on quickly. She felt him watching her alertly as she picked up her clutch bag and his briefcase of documents.

As she moved towards the entrance, putting on her shoes quickly, he followed her, doing the same as she did.

"What are you doing?" She asked surprised, fatigue, terror and alcohol mixing in her head.

"You don't think I'm going to let her catch you alone in a corridor somewhere after that scene, do you?" He asked coolly, and she swallowed loudly.

She saw him quietly grab the doorknob and open the door silently, leaning his head out, looking around. He nodded for her to follow him and they both started for the stairs, not wanting to wait in plain sight for the lift.

They climbed to her floor and only then did she feel relieved. However, they both froze and stopped in mid-step when they saw her father emerge suddenly from his room, apparently heading for her brother's apartment.

When he saw her, her tear-stained face his brow furrowed in a way she knew all too well, his accusing gaze falling on the Targaryen standing beside her.

"What happened?" He asked expectantly, she could feel her heart pounding hard, she thought she had to think of something quickly.

"Cregan has been nagging me all day and I felt bad during our conversation. Mr Aemond was kind enough to offer to walk me to my room to make sure I was okay." She mumbled being on the verge of crying again, looking at her father pleadingly.

He muttered under his breath and nodded at Targaryen, putting his arm around her and saying 'thank you for your concern'.

Before she entered her room she glanced at him apologetically over her shoulder, their tired gazes meeting for a moment before he turned and started down the corridor in the other direction.

Her father began to question her about what was going on and ordered her to show him what messages Cregan was sending his daughter. Feeling that she needed to somehow make her story credible she showed him textes she had been receiving from him throughout the day.

"Couldn't he finally decide on something? Why is he messing with your head like that? I'll talk to his father when we get back." He said angrily, ignoring her pleas for him not to do so and that they were no longer children in kindergarten. When her father left, angry and shaken, she called Royce quickly.

He was in her room after a few minutes.

He walked in smiling, but seeing her state and her red eyes he immediately furrowed his brow, looking at her anxiously.

"What's wrong? Cregan?" He asked walking up to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, as usual physically showing her his support. She pressed her lips together at his questions.

"Not only that." She whispered with a blush of embarrassment and shame not believing what she was about to say.

"I slept with someone." She mumbled, burying her face in her hands, shaking her head. Her brother threw her a confused yet amused look.

"Well… I told you to have fun. I just hope he didn't hurt you? Do you regret it?" He asked bending down to her level as if to see what the look in his eyes betrayed. She looked at him helplessly, lowering her hands.

"I slept with Aemond Targaryen…"

"WHAT?"

"…and when it was all over his assistant, who he is sleeping with but is not in a relationship with, started banging on our door when she heard us, screaming and crying." She mumbled out quickly on one exhale, wiping quickly the tears that were again flying down her cheeks, her brother looking at her in disbelief. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"I, God, this is totally fucked up. If they're not together then why did she make him a scene?" He asked rhetorically.

"I have no idea! Maybe there's more to her than that though. She was already looking at me at breakfast after I exchanged a few words with him and I'm afraid she knows it's me. That she's going to say something to our father." She said in a trembling voice, Royce pressed his lips together.

"Has she seen you?" He asked uncertainly.

"No, but our father saw me and Aemond when he walked me to my room. He wanted to make sure this woman didn't catch me anywhere. I told him he only saw me off." She explained brokenly, seeing her brother's horrified gaze.

He let out a loud breath, burying his face in his hands as if he felt immense relief. He put his hands at his sides, looking at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Well, my little sister, I see that when you do have fun, you do it with pomp." He said amused and she burst into laughter at his words, somewhat relaxed by the fact that she had told him, that she didn't have to carry this burden alone.

Before bed she took a quick shower, wanting to refresh herself after what they had done. She realised to her surprise, standing under the drops of hot water falling on her body, that she didn't regret what she had done after all.

She couldn't erase his touch, tell herself that it hadn't been pleasant, that it hadn't given her pleasure.

She thought, sighing, that they were both adults, they had done what they wanted, and now their paths would part and everything would go back to normal. She thought she would call Cregan tomorrow and explain to him exactly how she felt, and if that didn't work, she would just block his number for a while.

She came out of the bathroom in her pyjamas and involuntarily reached for her phone wanting to see if Cregan had written anything else. She was surprised when she saw that she had received some direct message on Instagram from a strange account, but it didn't look like spam. She opened it and started reading.

She swallowed loudly feeling her heart pounding.

Aemond.

She felt relieved and hot in her lower abdomen at the thought that he had found her, that he had made the effort just to write her that.

She knew that he must have seen that she had displayed the message and she didn't want him to feel that she was pretending that nothing had happened. She took a long time to respond and deleted and rephrased several times.

She felt a shudder when she saw that he had immediately displayed her message and wondered if he would write anything more. She felt a stab of disappointment when nothing appeared after a few minutes but decided it was still nice of him to write to her.

She shuddered when she heard the sound of a vibration, a notification displayed on her phone that she had received a new message on Instagram. She unlocked her phone with her heart pounding hard, wondering why it excited her so much.

She thought maybe it was because he seemed so withdrawn, dark, silent, and now he was talking to her of his own free will.

She pursed her lips as she read this and swallowed loudly.

He opened up to her.

He talked about his relationship.

She rolled over on her sheets, sitting up, thinking deeply about what she should answer to that. She didn't want to judge him or ask too in-depth questions, but she wanted to understand him.

She finally replied, her heart tightening.

Will this answer upset him? Was she too direct? She flinched as her phone vibrated again.

A short, cold answer. She swallowed loudly, sighing softly, not knowing whether she should write more or not.

She pursed her lips as she read this. Somehow their relationship was as complicated as hers and Cregan's. She wondered if she should advise him something.

She blinked, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Exchange of mutual benefits.

Objectification.

Had he done this to her today to make her go easy on his grandfather's deal and convince her father to sign it?

She swallowed hard at the thought.

He didn't answer her question for a very long time and she slowly started to fall asleep in her bed. She suddenly jumped up when her screen lit up after several minutes.

She pursed her lips as she read the messages that appeared quickly one after the other. She thought he had finished the rest of the wine that was left in his room.

She fell asleep almost immediately after sending the message, the alcohol numbed her completely and made her not wake up until the morning. She flinched when the alarm on her phone started ringing and she turned it off, glancing at the display. She saw then that she had received another message from him.

______

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227 notes · View notes

yuwumeniji · 11 months

Note

Mind writing anything about shu and his new outfit (possibly with smooches?)

YAMINO SHU(?)

Is this you?

Aka: if shu won't make lore, i will

Fanart credit

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A/N: Holy shit it's been too long since i last wrote and with the fact that my classes are done... for the next 2ish weeks... i can write more. thank you for your submission btw !!!!!!

i've also tried a different writing style for this one since this is a singular member as well - cut between lore and romantic headcannons (i promise i read the full request LMAO thank you for enabling me here) UPDATE: idk why i didn't post it yet (i wrote this like 2 weeks ago???)

WARNING: Please remember that I am writing about Luxiem based on their characters online and not of the people behind their vtuber avatars, thank you!

MORE BELOW THE CUT!

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General Headcannons/Lore Headcannons

you're currently looking at the shu from the distant past; a past where his supernatural powers were at it's rawest, primal form.

meaning his control over his powers prior to meeting the luxiem boys is a lot more unstable.

actually, a lot of the shikigamis that flock around him are used to regulate his powers.

he's a lot more angry, aggressive in this form but there's a sort of regal air surrounding him.

if you remember, he hails from an all-powerful mystic family who specialized in many ancient medicines, rituals and sorcery, thus giving him a sort of arrogance as well.

the way he spoke (especially in the past) was a lot more formal than the usual relaxed shu you know and love.

he's also a lot more clumsy when it comes to social cues considering he's from a very formal background along with the fact that he hasn't interacted with normal human beings for a long time

the way the past!shu appeared in front of you was due to a mishap with one of present!shu's sorcery (he tried to fix something with his sorcery despite you telling him maybe it was a bad idea and that it could go wrong, but i digress lmao)

back to his powers, in terms of power, past!shu had the power to obliterate entire continents with the flick of his wrist. i mean, he could still do that now, but the present!shu has no desires to destroy, maim or even kill whatever is in his way

he's also a little more sneaky (refer back to the kind of arrogance he may have in the past)

Romantic Headcannons

oh he baby baby

he had no interest in romance in the first place i mean how could you when your sorcery was so unpredictable it could make his partner's head turn into idk??? the nearest object by accident???

i mean until you arrive (plot device)

i'd say he's also a little more rough with how he handles his partners too - from the teeth-gnashing kisses that remind you too much about his inexperience to the bite marks that linger longer than it should've (hey delusionals this one is for you)

oh i should add, i don't think he's the kind to initiate anything, even in the past - it usually just snowballs that way

it's just that with the lack of human contact (in this form), his experience of love came from you, books he's read, and eventually the familial love he found with luxiem

he's the kind to grow super red the moment you kiss his cheek and even cartoonishly "rubs off your kiss" (he likes it a lot)

oh he's more of a tsundere in the past too, huffing away any pick-up lines from the internet you throw at him (even if he did enjoy them)

#yuwrote #holy shit yuwu content about her fave oshi :o #I MISS WRITING I WISH I HAD MORE ENERGY TO DO IT EUUEEU #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino #shubie my beloved en vtuber #nijisanji writing #nijisanji en luxiem #nijisanji en #nijien #nijisanji #luxiem drabble #luxiem imagine #luxiem x reader #luxiem #drabble #imagine #writing #yu asked and i answered

184 notes · View notes

tokoyamisstuff · 10 months

Text

Sugar Shock Ch. 2

Hotaru Haganezuka x GN! Reader

Based on this comic by @yuki2sksksk.

Summary: No one - including Haganezuka himself - believed that he would ever get married, let alone be interested in it at all...

...that was until he met you, at least.

[Last Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

A/N: I personally don't like my writing in this chapter, idk why. Also it's not proofread.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1463

"Uh...maybe we should call for help?" a voice behind you asked their companion. "Doesn't the shopkeeper look awfully pale?"

"Yes, and they haven't spoken a single word since we started walking" the other person responded. "Not even when we asked questions or tried to make smalltalk. Creepy."

"Maybe they're just asocial."

You were currently guiding a duo of Demon Slayers to the hot springs, yet your mind was so obviously elsewhere that even those strangers were concerned by your behavior.

Staring straight forwards without any focus, you wouldn't even bid those two a look, let alone listen to their conversation.

It's been a week since Haganezuka's surprising confession, and even though you couldn't to think of anything else ever since, you were just as unable to find an answer to his proposal.

You cringed internally when you thought back to that moment: Haganezuka was rooted on spot right in front of you - closer than appropriate, to add to that - and in the most awkward silence. If Kanamori hadn't come home earlier than anticipated, you would have probably remained frozen forever.

Who knows what he thought at that moment...hopefully he didn't tell anyone, for it certainly looked like Haganezuka had spent the night or something, with the two of you all alone in your shop before the day had even started.

You shuddered a bit at the memory of your friend walking in on the two of you, only further startling the two swordsmiths behind. "I told ya! They've got fever chills or something!"

Ever since then you hadn't seen your odd admirer, and you began thinking that maybe he's mad that your answer is taking so long.

But hey, a decision like that should be well considered!

There's no need to rush, especially since the broken marriage of your own parents had affected you this much.

To be perfectly honest, the thought of Haganezuka of all people wanting to get married - much less to you - was a shocker.

Not that you thought him to be unfitting for marriage or anything, but you barely even knew him and the other way around. Also, the tad bit you did know was certainly concerning.

You have no shared past, no connection whatsoever. Never dated or even had a proper talk besides that one time in the forrest.

Goddamnnit, you don't even know what he looks like! Not like appearance matter, you were not superficial. But it's just such a basic thing to know about someone.

Well, apparently he likes you, right? He asked to marry you, after all. So he has to like you in some kind of way. But why that? And since when? How?!?

A deep sigh escaped your mouth, shoving the turmoil of unanswered questions in the back of your head for a sheer moment.

"Please follow that trail and you'll find a small house near the river" you instructed the two young men as you pointed to the left side of a parting way.

"Man, I really need to be more careful with my sword. I can't keep breaking it." Tzch, they could at least say 'thank you'. You closed your shop just to guide them here, after all.

Well, Demon Slayers sure are wacky characters sometimes. Always having their head in the clouds. To fight those things you probably need to have a screw or two loose.

Just when you were about to turn around and return to the main village, you overheared something.

"Ah, well at least you don't suffer the same fate as that Kamado boy." You immediately recognized that name - it was one of Haganezuka's few customers he once very vocal complained about. "His swordsmith is really scary and chases him around if he breaks his sword!"

Oh dear, your suitor really needs to overthink his actions and their consequences more often...

"Yeah, so I've heard. Must be tough for Kamado. What's that swordsmith's problem anyway? Going around berserk like a madman." That one you certainly agreed to a certain extend, as far as you know he's still a child after all.

Maybe you should talk about his behavior, to you he might listen, who knows?

You snorted at your line of thought, already thinking about scolding him as if you were an old married couple bantering each other.

As if you had that much of an influence on him...or do you?

"If his blade is so perfect, why did it break so easily? He's the one with the skill issue." Subconsciously balling your fist, you turned around and rushed towards the men who wouldn't even notice you were still there.

"Haha, maybe he's getting too old for this. Better retire already. That man is not fit for this type of work anymore."

Breathe, Y/N, don't do anything reckless...

"Please refrain yourselves from saying such things" you exhaled through gritted teeth as you placed a firm hand onto both of their shoulders.

"Slayers and swordsmiths need each other to make it work. Neither of them are more or less important", you preached to teach them some basic morals. "Everyone here works incredibly hard, so don't you dare belittle people who spend their entire lives in this village making weapons for your protection!"

"But-"

"But what?!"

You wanted to yell at them, but instead grumbled with a gruff voice, intimidating for your standards even. "You got the nerve to complain when you're not even Hashiras. I find this to be annoyingly pathetic."

Raising an irritated eyebrow at them was enough to scare them off, only a faint "We're very sorry!" audible when they ran as fast as they could.

Suits them right, you thought.

Haganezuka may be a bit blunt and had an issue with regulating his emotions, but you admired the passion he put into his work. He was certainly a good guy, and did not deserve to be belittled like that.

"Huh" you uttered to yourself, "I didn't mean to scare them off. But young people nowadays..."

A crackling noise startled you out of your pondering. It was the sound of a branch being stepped on, and soon enough you found the source.

"If you run now, consider your proposal rejected!" you called after a fleeing Haganezuka, who you had just caught spying on you from behind a tree.

How long has he even been there? Goddamn, this man has zero social skills...

"Haganezuka, please...I need to ask you this: Why me? How long have you-"

"...because- you're distracting." The swordsmith had his back turned to you as he answered out of a whim, but not that it mattered. With the mask on you couldn't decipher his emotions either way.

Now what's that supposed to mean?! Should you knock some sense into him?

"I don't know since when, but you've been keeping my mind occupied."

Those words had escaped his mouth faster than his mind could catch up on, and ultimatively the usually rather quiet man began speaking from the bottom of his heart.

"In the morning I wake up and think about how you would have risen earlier to open your store. When I go for lunch, I wonder what you have to eat. When I see kids eating sweets, I think about how you probably gave them away for free. When I go to sleep, I imagine you already prepared for another day as you get ready for bed."

He paused, and even through the sounds of nature you could hear his fastened pants underneath the mask.

"Even when I am working on my swords, I still think about you." Something like that had never happened to him, that something is equally - no, more important than his work.

"It's so irritating and annoying. I wanted to stop thinking about you for so long already, but I never could. Then I thought, I might as well just get it done and confess to you. Get it all off my chest."

"I expected you to reject me right away..." His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally turned around. "But then you didn't respond, and told me to let you think about this."

Haganezuka's voice was clearly shaking, and he was stumbling across his own words. "Do you know what that did to me? That you didn't outright reject someone like me, and now even defend me from being insulted?!"

Your eyes widened as the man built himself up in front of you, raising his blistered hand to the mask covering up his face to tear it away just a second later.

He...had incredibly kind eyes.

Not at all what you had expected him to look like, but certainly a handsome man.

Long raven hair cascaded over his shoulders, accentuating the sharp edges of his face. His furrowed brows were more fitting for someone like him, almost making you laugh if the situation wasn't so severe.

And - is Haganezuka really blushing right now?!

"You gave me hope" the man now spoke with a calm voice, in huge contrast to the almost desperate expression plastered on his face.

"So now take a good look at how this hope affected me - the hope that I can make you mine."

#demon slayer #kny #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka / reader #haganezuka / you #self insert #writing #fanfiction

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unspoken-blossomed-feelings · 2 years

Text

{Someone is never prepared for the time their heart breaks.}

>>> Jisung, Minho & gn!reader | ft. Jisung's girlfriend

>>> Angst

>>> wc: 917

>>> Warning: None (I think? But please let me know if I should add something.)

> January, 2019.🌱

The truth sometimes could be harsh. Yet, it was way better to know the real reason behind something that occurred rather than believing something only to find out that it was a lie. At least, that is what you liked to believe, and you could have sworn you stood by that thought after seeing how the truth once again came full force to crash against someone.

None of you had the intention to eavesdrop on the conversation Jisung was having with his girlfriend. However, Minho and you had planned meeting with him that day, and both of you found yourselves staring awkwardly at each other, wondering whether it would be better to leave, or to stay in case Jisung needed you once the conversation came to an end.

"I just don't understand... Were you going to leave without even telling me?"

"Look Jisung, I know how it looks but... I really didn't know what to tell you. I believe this will not work out in the end, and I just don't want to hurt you. You know I appreciate you a lot. We've known each other most of our lives, and then we've been together since we started high school. So, it's really difficult for me to see that the plans we made will not be possible anymore."

"But why? Are you listening to what you're saying? You are giving up on us without even trying!" Jisung raised his voice, shocking him and the girl in front of him due to his outburst. He had never raised his voice like that. "Sorry, I just... Tell me... Is it something I did? Surely we can talk it out, right? You said it yourself, we've been together for so long... Yet, at the first difficulty you're trying to run away."

"I just... Feel like it's not the time for me to commit to a relationship? There're many things I need to do, and I don't have enough time for that," she said, a shaky breath escaping from her, "But it's totally not because of you, Jisung, I swear! If I had more time available I would totally do my best to get this to work, but... I don't think I can now."

"Wouldn't it be better if we take some time then? Maybe... Maybe that's what you need, and then you'll be fine... We'll be alright..."

"I'm sorry, Jisung. I can't promise you that I will feel ready to be with you in a short period. Nor how long it would take me... I can't make fake promises, I'm trying to be honest here with you... It's hard for me too, you know?"

At some point during the conversation, you had decided to drag Minho away from Jisung's apartment to go to the grocery store. It seemed wrong to stay there without him knowing, even when he must have known that you were going to arrive on time to pick him up.

After buying some things that you considered could come in handy, both of you headed back to Jisung's apartment. A deep sigh left you, knowing fully well that you probably would not be of help, but Minho's hand on your shoulder reminded you that at least Jisung would know that both of you were there for him if he needed you.

You arrived right on time to see the door opening, Jisung's no-longer-girlfriend walking out with two suitcases and a box between her hands. She seemed surprised after noticing the two of you standing outside, but she simply nodded her head and kept walking, leaving the door open for you.

Minho was the first to walk inside, handing you the bag he was carrying before heading towards Jisung's room. It was not hard to know where he was, specially when his crying could be heard from the entire place.

Curled up on the floor, right next to the wardrobe, Jisung was leaning towards a now half empty place. Only his clothes was taking up half of the space, and the other half was completely out of belongings. His hands were clenched, as if the next thing he would do was punch whatever appeared in front of him.

Trying not to disturb him, Minho kneeled in front of Jisung and brought the younger of your group towards him, to rest his head on his chest. Jisung's hands tightened and the sobs only got louder.

"When did you get here..." He tried to talk between sobs, his eyes finally open, allowing him to see that both of you had made your way into the apartment that was only his since that day. "I'm so-"

You sat right next to Minho, one of your hands caressing his hair out of the place while the one carrying a tissue went to dry his face.

"Shhhh... Talk when you feel ready, now feel free to let go what's inside. Cry for as long as you need, and don't you dare apologize to us. You didn't do anything wrong, Ji."

For the very first time, Minho and you were seeing the guy you met at the Café a couple months ago no longer as the bright and cheerful person you knew. He was broken, and you wished there was a way to avoid what had occurred. It was bound to happen at some point, you were aware of that, but you could not help feeling bad about it.

It was in that exact moment that you swore you were going to protect Han Jisung.

unspoken-blossomed-feelings🌱

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #gn!reader #han jisung drabbles #han jisung scenarios #han angst #han jisung angst #stray kids angst #Lee know #Minsung #lee know scenarios #lee know drabble #han #Han jisung

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bf-skz · 1 year

Text

24 to 25 days of SKZMAS | December 15th - Seungmin

pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

genre: meeting by chance

synopsis: Seungmin works as an HR assistant for JY Publishing. He is invited to help interview the new candidates for an open position and he is susprised to see an old friend. The very same old friend that they had a crush on back in college. Could this be fate?

warnings:-

words: 831

15th day of SKZMAS

December 15th

Today is the day that Seungmin has been looking forward to. It’s your second round of interviews. Seungmin made sure to put on his best shirt in the morning to leave a good impression on you. He has been longing to talk to you again, but unfortunately he didn’t ask for your number. He could have easily taken it from your CV but that wouldn’t really match with the company’s policy. It probably would have been a tad bit too creepy as well…

You knock on the office door and wait patiently. You would be lying if you said you haven’t been thinking about Seungmin these past days. The way he grew into a real man… you know it’s been way too long since you two were as much as acquaintances, but you would like to think there could be… something. You are older now, after all. More confident in who you are, and also what you want.

“Good morning.” Seungmin greets you with that sweet smile of his. “Good to see you again.”

“Good morning.” you bow and look around in the small office. “Is it the two of us today?”

“Yes, I will be sharing some boring law things about working and rights.” Seungmin jokes. “I honestly think the CEO thinks that the HR doesn't have enough work cut out for them.”

“Maybe I should've applied for a position there.” you smile at him, glancing down at the thick pile of papers. “Are you sure we have to do this?” you smile at him prettily. That always worked for you when you wanted to get him to do something… you don't really expect it to work now.

“I believe you already know most of it.” Seungmin grins. “But I also have the offer here that you should probably consider.” he says, flipping to the last page of the paper stack.

“Theeeen how about we go through the offer, you take that suit jacket off so I can see you properly and then we discuss what we missed out on in the other's life in the past few years?” you ask with a cute tilt of your head, watching him for a reaction.

“You haven't changed one bit.” he sighs but compiles, taking off his jacket as he begins to tell you the offer. “So next to the competitive salary we offer full health care and cafeteria benefits as well as travel allowances.” Seungmin explains and he catches you staring. “Do you like it so far?” he lifts a brow.

“Oh, I love it.” you say with a little smirk, taking in all the details of his face, then his shoulders and chest and hands. “Please, do go on.”

“You get extra paid leaves if necessary and free weekends, something you didn't have at the previous place.” he says quoting your previous interview. “Plus completely free, up-to-date technological devices are provided.”

“That sounds wonderful.” you say, actually addressing what you hear now because wow, a place that treats its employees decently? Unheard of.

“So, will I see you more on the office premises?” Seungmin asks with a hopeful smirk, not hiding his feelings at all.

“I'd hope so.” you nod, smiling back at him. “I wouldn't miss out on my opportunity here for the world.” you add, wondering if he will catch the double meaning.

“Excellent. Then how about lunch together? My treat.” Seungmin adds as a matter of fact.

“You didn't change either.” you chuckle, but obey, getting up to get your coat. “Or, well. Someone has definitely put on some muscles.” you add as you sideye him.

“Compared to the wimp I used to be, this is nothing. Wait till you see Jisung.” he mentions.

“Oh, he works here, too?” you ask with a smile and you wait for him to walk around the table. You place a hand on his upper arm and he immediately flexes his muscles under his crisp white shirt. So cute. “Also, you were never a wimp. Don't you dare insult my taste like that.”

“Your taste?” he mumbles in surprise. “Are you saying you had a crush on me?”

“I might have.” You shrug, smiling at him sweetly. “You were so cute and smart, funny and just overall a great friend. Of course I would fall for you.” you tell him, and to his disbelieving look, you add. “The amount of times I imagined making out in the back of the lecture hall… wait, I shouldn't say stuff like that at your workplace!” you giggle, even though there is no one around to hear you.

“Um, yeah, let's discuss this another time.” he says, voice hitching and blushing to deep red as he leads you out of the building towards his favorite diner.

You don't respond, but suddenly, you feel stupid. Did you say too much? Gosh, is it possible that you misread all the signs and made him feel uncomfortable. Why do you always have to fuck it up?

to be continued...

#kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids #skz #seungmin au #seungmin fic #stray kids au #skz fic #skz au #stray kids fic #24 to 25 days of skzmas #skzmas #seungmin x reader #mymercury #yourandromeda #bf-skz

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shuamorollss · 2 years

Text

008. an unwanted invitation

SYNOPSIS: Yn had always wanted to be a famous chef, so she entered a well-known cooking competition. Park Jeongseong, your competitor and the son of the famous Chef Park, sabotages Yn's dish, allowing him to win. What would happen if Yn discovered that Chef Park's son had cheated? Will they be rivals for the rest of their lives, or will this be the beginning of a new friendship mayhaps? or something more than that?

ALTERNATIVELY: Jongseong was threatened by Y/n's pleasing dishes so he sabotages her meal to achieve victory.

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS — not proofread. yn's parents having favoritism, getting compared to, neglection (not mentioned but implied), just yn's parents being really shitty, innacurate experiences of being a lawyer, please tell me if there are more things i should add !

You opened the door to your house— well, your parent's house. It's been awhile since you've been here, you weren't fond of the memories from here and you definitely do not want to remember them again.

The living room was quiet, so quiet that you could hear the lowest volume of your footsteps, the antique grandfather clock at a far distance, and the dim lit living room that made it difficult for you to make your way to the dining room door.

You walked carefully until finally reaching where you should be. you deeply sighed before reluctantly twisting the knob, expecting your siblings already at the table and your parents.

And what awaited you was exactly that.

All eyes were on you. You didn't know what words to say at that moment so you muttered a sorry which everyone read from your lips as you sat down beside Hayoung, a slightly far distance from your parents and your brother.

Looking around at the table, no one has seemed to start eating, well… they were certainly waiting for you.

The food was already placed on the table, so by the time you sat down your mother immediately grabbed the spoon and fork to start feasting. Hayoung and Hwarang did the same so you just joined in.

The dinner was quiet, it's always quiet for the first hour. You know one of your parent's mouths will start to speak up about whatever goes on in their children's lives; and they always ask you for the last, or maybe not ask you at all.

" So… Hwarang..? How was your day? " Your mom finally spoke, from what you expected. Hwarang chewed and swallowed his food fast before he could reply. " It was okay. I've been in the firm for the whole day. "

Your mother hummed in response, her head now facing Hayoung, " What about you? "

" I'm okay too. Still reading for my first case. It's kind of difficult but I can handle it. "

" Don't worry sweetie, we've been through that as well. " She replied reassuringly. You felt sudden daggers going through your chest after you heard your mom in that tone also catching that slight smile on her face as she talked to your big sister. You were more used to her high pitched passive aggressive voice whenever she talks to you, so it did hurt considering you have never heard your own mother telling you anything reassuring to you.

Your eyes were on the food you were consuming, though you could sense your mother immediately shifting her gaze to you.

And you couldn't be more nervous as ever.

You were expecting a How about you? How's your day? as well, but that never came out of her mouth.

She just looked back at her food and continued eating, not even taking notice of you at all.

Like you weren't even there.

Hayoung's eyes kept darting her gaze to your mother then to you, definitely uncomfortable as you are in this sudden made atmosphere.

" What about yn? mom? " Hayoung interrupted the awkward silence filling the room.

Your eyes widen in shock, rapidly facing your gaze at the woman beside you.

" No no I don't think it's import— "

" Hayoung's right. How was your day, yn? "

Your chest tightens, so was your grasp on the spoon you were holding, though you still managed to keep a calm demeanor.

" It... It was fine, just the usual studying and cooking. "

" You know your mother told me about that cooking competition you joined... " Your father started going in the picture.

You nodded in response, then taking a bite of your food.

Mostly it was your mom who does all the talking, so hearing your father talking literally sets the bar up too high on the anxiety level. Because everyone in that room knows that what comes next will not end well when the man starts speaking up.

You didn't care at that point, you were used to being scrutinized by your parents. Glancing at your two siblings, it seems like they were more stressed and scared than you are.

" You placed second… "

" I mean, you did a pretty good job cooking food multiple times that day. "

You were praised.

It always starts with praise.

" I mean… Second place though? "

called it.

" Dad, second place wasn't that bad. Right, hwarang? " Hayoung intervened, his gaze quickly transferring to the male eating across the table. Your brother, hwarang just gave a slow nod in response, unable to speak with food in his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, you didn't want to cause a scene. You were thankful Hayoung was there with you, but you didn't think that her words would just shut them up just like that.

They have a lot more to say than just… that.

" Sure of course it wasn't that bad. But remember our deal? "

" Why does the deal matter to you guys so much? " You raised your head to see a frowning, glaring man beside your brother.

The whole area was quiet, all eyes were on you. You didn't want to cause a scene once more but you couldn't take it, you felt like you had a say in everything. Of course they were talking about you. you had to defend yourself at some point.

and everytime you defend yourself, you end up being the bad guy.

" Yn… we just care for you okay? " your mom replied.

" Care for me? You guys made a deal with me. If i don't graduate with a degree you guys will disown me. Where's the care in that?! "

" I'm just… I'm trying my best, mom… dad. " You added, lowering your head.

" See this? This is why we shouldn't have made her do what she wanted. "

" Dad, i don't think it's like that! " Hayoung intervened once again, noticing your anxious state.

" Hayoung, please stop. You know everything would be better if that little bitch just became what we all are. Lawyers! If you weren't such a spoiled brat you should've been working in our firm! "

" Dad… I think that enou— " Hwarang finally went in, attempting to put an end to whatever words that might come out of the man's mouth next.

" No no.. Yn will never learn to love her family. She never will. "

" If only Subin was our daughter instead I guarantee all of you that we wouldn't be in this shit argument right now. "

That was your final straw.

Subin… It's always Subin.

You love Subin as a friend, you two have been friends your whole life, of course they liked her. Although you were sick of getting compared with her from time to time by your parents ever since you started college.

You get why they like Subin.

She meets the Song family standards.

She's an aspiring lawyer, that's just it.

She's something your parents want in a child. Someone like them.

It crushes your heart to know that your own parents, the one who brought you into this world, the ones who took care of you and raised you. Does not care about their children unless they become something they want and expect them to be.

You weren't that said child.

You force yourself to not care about their smacktalks but it just hurts. From the people who are supposed to be the most supportive turns out otherwise. they're not at all supportive, not to you.

No one dared to talk back after your dad's lashing. All of you felt the need to just stay silent and not put more fuel to the fire. It was the best to have made that decision.

You wonder why your mom has not said a word during that, you figured that maybe she really doesn't care.

All of you spent dinner in another series of silence. You finished first and immediately left the residence, wanting to just get out and never come back. Though that wasn't certain… Time will come once again for you to return to this household, which you hope to not expect any more in the future.

a/n: Meet Song family !!!... a not so great family tbh 😶 sorry for the sad chapter and no jay screentime. But it's gonna happen in the next one. + new character on the next chapter (she's a peach). AND YESS i hv everything in my new phone rn So working on it won't b as tough anymore!! I hope u all enjoyed this chapter (haha) ❤️❤️❤️ and Get well soon Heejayke ☹️🙏💞

taglist! @enhacolor @wonyosparkle @butterflyy-ningg @vantxx95 @2bbang-hoon @blessed-sky @uhsakusa

#ficscafe #enhypenwriters #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen smau #jay smau #jay x y/n #jay x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen imagines #jay imagines #jay scenarios #enhypen scenarios #park jongseong smau #park jongseong x reader #enhypen #park jongseong #jay enhypen

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astriefer · 3 years

Text

To Real Friends, Till the Reel End | PART TWO

Summary: A lesbian and a gay trying to chill at a party. That's it. Really.

Word Count: 2503

Warnings: None

It's a collection friendship-themed one-shots/drabbles. The first part is somewhere but I can't find it so I'll add the link when I do :) I don't want to change the order, so have fun with the second part for now!

part one part three

“True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable.”

— David Tyson

"Again, hiding behind champagne glasses and a stoic mien?"

Alastair turned toward the source of the voice, finding no other than familiar brown eyes on him. "And I thought I'd be safe here."

"You are never safe from the power of friendship," Ariadne Bridgestock - or rather Kamala Joshi - said as she swooped into the chair next to him. The gesture was elegant, her silks moving with her in an impressive arch. Alastair had seated himself where he was at the beginning of the evening - with one of his nicer attires. Eugenia had implied he put effort because Thomas was attending. Alastair dismissed it and insisted it's due to the event. Which he had no idea what it was being held for.

"Or the power of a woman trying to escape suitors inviting her to dance," propounded Alastair, causing Kamala to laugh. "Have you found no new women to lay your eyes on?"

"Well, the selection is not particularly plentiful. Anna is there with her family, as always," Alastair didn't miss the bitter tone that hoard in Kamala's voice. But it was lighter each day. It was hard to miss fashionable and proud Anna in the crowd, surrounded by her family. Her brother and cousins were laughing and mingling around her, and she seemed oblivious to the attention the two young Shadowhunters paid her. Matthew Fairchild, who engaged in conversation with Anna, did notice. He shot them an obscure look, leaned in, and whispered into Anna's ear.

Kamala had a distant look in her eyes as if she remembered a past she could not reach again. Alastair promptly ignored the fact that they were the ones now being observed. "Well, I'm not a judge of women, but I'm not sure Miss Townsend would appreciate your remark," He attempted. It worked, and Kamala turned back to look at him.

Kamala cleaned her throat and regarded her hands before raising her chin to meet his eyes. They were no longer far away. "Well, I daresay my taste is less bland than those English folks."

Swiftly enough, they were deep into conversation. Alastair was never a person of big crowds. He didn't need many people, just as they did not need him. But those who were held close to his heart always were different. It was easier to be himself - the way he hadn't been a very long time. When Alastair devoted all of himself to them and opened his heart, they did not stomp on it. They cradled it with care and appreciation and accepted all the broken parts across it.

"How could you escape the horror that is girls gossiping about young bachelors this time?" Alastair asked. Every social occurrence he attended, a group of young ladies were crowded, waiting for the gentlemen to sweep them to dance and talk. He's seen some eyes on him, even though Alastair knew his reputation proceeded him whenever it comes to suitable marriage material. Not that he was interested in getting married. Or girls. Yet, sometimes he marveled at how desperate they seem to dance with someone.

"I wager on 10 Sterlings you wanted to be in my place, so you could hear all they blather about Thomas-"

"What about Thomas?" Alastair inquired, far too quickly for it to be nonchalant.

Kamala eyed Alastair mischievously. "Well, isn't it delightful how lively you become at the mention of our handsome fella?"

Alastair groaned and pressed his lips. "I wouldn't," he spoke equitably as he held his chin up. "And Thomas isn't interested in any of them, so I don't see why to make myself sick with-"

"Jealousy?"

Alastair glared at her. "Socialization."

"Oh, big aloof Alastair," She smiled at him cheekily. "Always so rational." She knew it's not true. Not when she had to stop Alastair from confronting Anna the day she told him about their relationship. He had held his dagger and proclaimed to want a 'face to face, adults dialogue.' Kamala had not bought it for a second. "When would come the day you-"

Kamala stopped abruptly and swore under her breath. If there were anyone near to hear her, she would have gotten scandalized stares. Yet, they were in a faraway corner of the ballroom, and the only person to detect her swarm of words was Alastair. He merely quirked an eyebrow.

"There," she huffed and patted her skirts in dismay. She tilted her head imperceptibly. "To your right."

Alastair examined the crowd. He saw two figures heading in their direction. He looked back at Kamala but could see them in the corner of his eyes. He prayed whatever ploy they have it wouldn't involve chatting with the two of them. He was having fun.

Kamala gave him a light kick under the table. Play nice, she mouthed at him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Mr. Carstairs, Ms. Bridestock," greeted Thoby in a sickly pleasant tone. The two men came to a halt right in front of Alastair and Kamala. And while her face was positively blank, he noted the strain in Kamala's shoulders by her adopted surname being used.

Alastair had to remind himself glaring and rolling eyes at people is considered rude. He kept his features stiff and bowed his head in greeting. For a few seconds, none of them filled the awkward silence that settled in their little group. That, until Jarred Gladstone spoke up.

"It's a fine evening, isn't it?"

"Certainly," Kamala replied, and there was a frosty note in her tone. Hidden behind a sweet smile, the only reason Alastair detected it in the first place was due to how well he knew Kamala. "The Herondales do magic whenever it comes to how to throw a party."

They hummed in response and went to talk about the last enclave meeting. Alastair used all his willpower not to stare at them and ask why they neared them at the first place. He knew, of course. But it was fun to see them struggling to keep the conversation going.

How far would it last until they decide to cut to the reason for their approach? Alastair mused. Until then, he entertained himself with their countenances to his dry answeres.

It was shortly after, Jarred shook his hand impatiently. "How come both of you were yet to dance tonight?"

Alastair raised his eyebrows at Kamala in what was meant to convey, is this what their best white men can do? However, he replied: "The right opportunity didn't strike us."

What he truly wanted to utter was, are you inviting me to dance? But he knew none of the partners of the conversation would appreciate it. It was an all too perilous territory to joke about.

A line appeared on Thoby's forehead. "What?"

Kamala flashed a wide, fake smile at him. "So many people on the dancefloor, you see."

The music shifted to a familiar one. Dancers cleared the way to new ones, Kamala caught the first opportunity before anyone else could speak up and said, "Oh! Alastair promised me this dance," just as Jarred fixed his jacket and asked, "Will you accompany me to a dance?"

Everyone stared at the other. Only the music playing accompanying the chatter around was heard. None of them uttered a sound.

"Ah." Jarred's face fell.

"We will be going," Thoby dived in to help his friend. Kamala rose up from her seat.

"Yes, you wouldn't want your fiancee waiting," Alastair murmured as he departed. It was nicer than saying, aren't you engaged, Mr. Baybrook? Why should you have your eyes on the unmarried single fellows?

They stepped away together from the two men. When they were swooning around on the dance floor, Kamala commented. "You could've been nicer, Alastair."

"What's fun in being nice?" he spun her in her place effortlessly, every step in tune with the beat.

Kamala rolled her eyes and retorted, "You can benefit from not being broody and cold all times a day."

"You think I'm cold and broody?" asked Alastair with a hurt look on his face. The ounce of distinguishable teasing in his voice made it clear it was just a joke, so she went along.

"Me? of course not," she patted his arm. "You're just very, awfully bad at common manners."

"My manners are perfectly fine," sniffed Alastair. Kamala moved and stepped on Alastair's foot. He glanced at her in a jolt of surprise. Kamala was a good dancer. Which means it was intentional.

"What was that for?" he inquired.

"Don't dispute what I say."

"Dear Lord. Your manners are just as bad as mine."

Kamala battled the smile that threatened to spread on her face. "You have no proof."

"My aching feet is enough of evidence."

"Don't be a fusspot!"

Alastair gaped at her. "I cannot believe you just called me a fusspot."

"I just voiced the truth," objected Kamala, failing to stifle her laugher. "And I am glad we agree, you need a re-learn about manners. I can be your teacher."

"Don't think yours are much better," he countered.

"Oh?"

"I see how it is," Alastair teased. "You chose me as an easy getaway from your bothering suitors."

Kamala averted his eyes. "Perhaps so."

"Rather cunning, I must say."

"If it comes from you it is a great fluttery."

They both chuckled. Alastair gave one last offense, "Using a person as a shield from an unwanted company doesn't sound very well-mannered, is it?"

"Oh, but you don't mind, do you?"

Perhaps she didn't expect his gaze to turn earnest, but Alastair couldn't help it. They talked low and quiet before, but now he whispered. "Of course not. Helping each other avoid undesired throng is included in our friendship terms."

Kamala observed his shift of tone, her soft smile touched with honesty. She leaned her face a little closer. "And I'm immensely grateful for that."

Alastair felt fuzzy inside. He was astonished when he felt tears prickling the concern of his eyes, so he backed away slightly. They both stopped at the end of the music. Dancing partners moved out as new ones stepped into the dancefloor. Kamala peeked around her and saw Anna has disappeared from the hall. Jarred Gladstone was glaring at them and quickly turned away when their eyes met.

"Another dance?" Alastair asked. His voice was slightly thick with emotion. Kamala just grinned and nodded as they adjusted to a new starting pose, not addressing the tears Alastair held back.

For a little, they just danced in comfortable silence, only the music filling the air. Words seemed so useless sometimes. Because when you knew someone's soul, there was no need to say much. If you learned a map of their heart, you could navigate through it and be content in the knowledge your presence is enough. Upon time silence reigned and enveloped the both of them, words weren't needed to fill it. Kamala could recall a handful of times it was just the two of them. At Cornwall Gardens, with Risa to watch the two from afar. At patrols. At walks and visits they took to wherever their heart told them to go. They could recall the gestures of care and love that were evident in the silence they shared.

Alastair was trapped in his own thoughts, it seemed. After a particular swift move, Alastair broke the quiet around them. "I never noticed how long this song is."

A pair of golden-brown eyes fixed on his face. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "That desperate to escape me, are you?"

Alastair rolled his eyes. "I find sitting in a dark corner with my book more pleasant than dancing with everyone's eyes on me."

"And that is where I come into the picture," Kamala laughed. "One of my tasks is to make sure you suffer at least the needed amount of social interaction during events."

Alastair huffed. "Where exactly did you bring it from?"

"Oh, that is included in our friendship deal as well."

The dark-eyed boy studied her for a few moments. "We should write a book," he advised. Kamala would have clapped her hands if she could.

"Lovely! Friendship Guide of 1904, written by your loyal, Stairstairs GrumpyFace and-"

"And a rising dresses-shredder."

"Rude," Kamala scrunched her nose, but her shoulders shook in the force of her contained laughter and betrayed her.

"I just voiced the truth. And I told you never to call me that." He complained. Kamala smirked at him in that way she sometimes did, full of carelessness and joy. While he would never admit it, his chest felt warm when she looked at him that way. She seemed happy, and Alastair reflected that happiness.

That was nice to have a friend like her, Alastair mused. Easy-going and kind as she was, with the hint of impishness in the tilt of her smile. Their sort of understanding felt different, more grounded one may say, than others. It had held something inside it that other companionships he had, how very little they were, dearth of. An additional thread between them. Similar marks, knowing eyes. Their other friends could not see it. They never could. Kamala was the spirit of changing who burst down into Alastair's life and refused to leave ever since. Not that he complained.

Their bond consisted of mutual understanding, the sort he craved desperately in the past. He had never imagined it'd come as naturally as it was to him. Calm as raindrops and warm as the burning wood crackling in a fireplace. At times it was as if Kamala knew what his thoughts were. And in return, he was given to know hers. When the silence surrounding Alastair filled with banter and laughter, his feelings bubbled at his chest from the force of his adoration held for this woman. Kamala Joshi was a new star lighted up in his almost starless sky.

The last note of the song played. "Let's head back to our seats. I have had enough of the humdrum English music and dance for one night."

Kamala couldn't help but agree. Then she added, "If I recall properly, calling you in silly names was explicitly stated in our friendship contract. Stairstaris."

"You are unbelievable," he cut in and made his way to the table he'd left before. Kamala followed him laughing.

She put into effect her most graceful smile. "We can spend the rest of the night creating funny names for each member of the enclave." They've played that game before when they were very bored. Alastair had tried hard not to laugh in an enclave meeting that occurred the day after. When he was spoken to, he almost snorted because of the silly nickname Kamala had glued to who called him.

"It would be nice," Alastair agreed and then looked outside the window of the ballroom. The stars were climbing in the black canvas of the sky. "But a nice walk in the garden would do just as well."

Kamala's smile widened.

----

Thank you for reading this far jsjs it's not my best writing but it's at least something after a few months with only drafts //0^0//

Taglist: @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @ary-es @justanormaldemon @itsjusta-j-really @queenlilith43 @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @afunkygoodtime @liasan-stuff @bipercyjacksonrights @blackthorngirl14 @take-the-train (sorry if you didn't want to be tagged!! tell me if you don't want to be tagged in future works!)

#if there are warnings I should add PLEASE tell maybe I didn't consider something as triggering #alastair carstairs #kamala joshi #kamala & alastair #the real friend group #the last hours #tlh #chain of iron #tsc #chain of gold #the shadowhunter chronicles #chog #thomas lightwood #eugenia lightwood #my posts #my writing #my fics #writing #There are Friends There is Family and Then There are Friends That Become Family

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lyak12 · 2 years

Text

You’re doing great

Summary: Nat is new to the team and making a mistake affects her more than anybody thought.

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word count: 1,3k

Warnings: sleep deprivation, let me know if I should add any

A/N: Here is my second fic. Thanks to @goldenempyrean for the idea! If you have anything you’d like me to write please send in a request! I don’t bite and I’ll do my best to fullfill it quickly. Also thanks for all the love on my first fic! I’m really glad you guys like it!

Nat was still fairly new to shield. You were both send to kill each other but you decided against taking that shot and so did she. Instead you brought her in and she defected to shield. It has been a bit of a bumpy ride, especially since Nat keeps mostly to herself but if someone would be considered close to her it’s you.

It has been one of the first missions Nat has been on together with the rest of the team as she makes a small mistake. Nothing fatal, no one got hurt or anything but it still got talked about. None of you thought it was a big deal, you’ve made mistakes like that almost every mission, especially in the beginning. You didn't think Nat would think much about it but boy were you wrong.

Nat was not used to make mistakes and since she was still partly in her red room mindset she threw herself into training. Working herself harder and harder to never make that same mistake again. Where she came from mistakes would end with painful consequences and she didn't want that.

At first you didn't notice but soon you could see Nat pushing herself to the extrem, training harder, longer and more often. You could tell she’s exhausting herself, so one evening you brought her dinner to her room, having not spend much time with her all week.

As she opened the door you could tell that she just came back from another session in the gym, once again working herself almost to the point of exhaustion. „Hey, we haven’t spend much time all week so I figured I make dinner and we can maybe watch a movie or something?“, you asked hopeful. She looked at the food and saw that you made her favorite dish, pasta Alfredo. A small smile played across her lips as she lets you in. Cuddling up on her couch you put on a movie and just chat a bit.

You were happy she ate.

„You’ve been training a lot this week, make sure you don’t overwork yourself. Everything okay?“, you asked softly but you could see her closing off immediately. „I'm fine, everything is okay, don’t worry“, she said softly but you got the memo to let it go.

You could tell that she was lying, being able to read her a little but you weren’t going to risk the trust you build by pushing her to tell you what’s wrong.

It went on for two weeks, Nat continuing to work herself harder and harder and you could tell that she was exhausted. It pained you to see her like this, she'd work herself to the bone if you couldn’t get her to stop. You kept an eye on her, gently trying to nudge her into taking a rest, maybe taking a day off but without any success.

Slowly you were at a loss at what to do. You didn’t want to get on the wrong side with her, especially since you did not only have a slight crush on her. You would never act on your feelings though, pretty sure Nat didn't feel the same way.

What you didn't know is that Nat did feel the same way but all of the feelings she felt for you were all new to her. It confused the hell out of her and to drown those feelings out she worked herself even harder.

The others didn’t notice, they were not very close to Nat but you did. But since there was nothing you could do without her closing off completely you just had to watch. At least you could keep an eye on her.

Until Fury send you on a three day long solo mission. The worry about Nat didn't leave your head for one second. And as you came back exhausted and sore you knew why.

Nat was at her breaking point, it was clearly visible to you. The dark circles under her eyes let you know that she barely slept while you were gone and as you saw her walking into the kitchen she held onto the wall slightly to keep herself upright. Her strong and flawless front was crumbling right in front of your eyes. Talking to Tony she keeps messing up names and as her eyes landed on you she asked „Hey Maria ehh Y/N how was your mission?“.

That was it. No matter what would happen between you and Nat now, you needed to step in.

Walking to her you held her by the arms softly to keep her upright as you look into her unfocused eyes and say „It was good. Nothing special pretty boring actually“. Your eyes moved to Tony as he shot you a worried glance, seeing how out of it Nat is.

You needed to get her somewhere more private so you just wrapped your arm around her shoulder and guided her to your room. Making her sit down on your small couch, you can tell she’s slightly disoriented and confused barely, having realized you moved her to your room away from the others.

Getting her a bottle of water you sat down next to her and said „Nat you gotta stop pushing yourself this hard. You need rest, you can barely keep yourself upright right now“. „I have to get better“, she mumbled resting her had in her hands. That’s when you realize what’s all this about, the small mistake a couple of weeks ago.

You gently place a hand on her cheek and make her look at you and listen. „Listen we all make mistakes and we learn out of them. I know this was your way to deal with things before but it's not necessary anymore, Nat. Listen to me when I tell you that nevertheless you did great on that mission. Working together as a team takes time not you working yourself to the bone. You deserve to just rest sometimes, Nat. You're doing a great job", you said softly looking deep into her eyes,. You could see a flash of relief in her eyes but could also tell that she didn’t believe it fully yet, it would take time, she’d need to get used to it. „Thank you“, she mumbled softly and gave you a small smile.

Nat was exhausted, you were tired and in desperate need of a shower but you weren’t willing to let her out of your sight yet. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower now and then we’ll watch a movie together”, you said and there was no room to argue for nat. You could see a look of amusement in her tired eyes as she just accepts the plan.

Grabbing your things for the shower and a change of clothes for Nat you point your finger at her, hand her the clothes and said “You’ll better still be here when I come out of the shower, Romanoff”. A soft tiny smile was playing on her face as she nodded and you quickly went to clean up.

As you came out of the bathroom she sat curled up on your couch in your clothes barely even awake still. She of course woke up as you sat down next to her and turned on the movie but you could tell she wouldn’t last long.

You wanted nothing more than to take her in your arms and cuddle her, let her sleep on your chest but you didn’t want to overstep. However soon enough Nats head landed on your shoulder as she go comfortable and finally fell asleep, letting herself get some well deserved rest. You couldn’t help but smile bright, finally starting to feel at ease with her resting next to you. You rested your head on hers and fell asleep yourself, just happy to be close to her and that she finally gets some rest.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fic

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fablesofkitkat · 3 years

Text

(short) pov: being fubus with the Haitani brothers

warning: ⚠️ smut⚠️MINORS (UNDER 18) DO NOT INTERACT.

NOTE: AGED UP to 18 characters

take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting

-Taylor Swift

Rindou flicks his hair, the blue streaks on his blonde hair was mesmerizing. Ran is holding you in place, your legs apart as the younger brother takes his time in leaving a trail of kisses all over your body. Ran is playing with your chest, cooing your name while he leaves hickeys on your neck. The Haitani brothers didn't have any sort of rivalry sure, but Ran covers Rindou's hickeys, biting the discolored spots with sick fascination.

You moaned when Rindou finally gets there. Kissing the entrance and you flinched when his teeth rubs the nub. A shiver runs down your spine and your toe curled. Your hips jerked but Rindou grips it down hard, leaving another handprints on your thighs. Ran only chuckles when he hears you whine.

"Rindou– you're a cruel bastard–" Your complaint is swallowed by Ran, his tongue dancing with yours, messy and hot, it has you gasping and drooling against his mouth. You barely took a breath when he goes for another open-mouthed kiss. You try to part from his mouth but he brings a hand on the back of your head, it's getting hard to breathe with the way he's hellbent on swallowing your tongue.

"You're so cute." Ran whispers before leaning forward again, catching your bottom lip with his teeth. He tugs hard, puncturing your lip.

You cried at the pain. Your eyes watered as you cursed. Not another mouth sore! You just had them healed and here comes another. Before you could complain, Rindou captures your whine, licking the blood on your mouth and it only makes you groan. Your right hand snakes on the back of his head, running your fingers through his short blonde, blue streaked hair.

Ran then pulls your head back. Hard. You cry out in pain. It cuts the kiss between you and Rindou short.

"I'm cruel? Ran-nii is worse than me." Rindou kisses the corner of your mouth. "He might be whispering sweet nothings in your ears, cooing at you, telling you you're a good girl while you take me but he likes to see your pretty tears. Not that I don't want the same thing."

You cry out sharply again when Ran pinches your n– Rindou takes a finger in. Your hips jerk upwards but this time, Ran grips your thighs harder than Rindou. Kami, your body looks like a twisted work of art by the Haitani brothers. The bruises. The hickeys. The bitemarks. Just seeing it gets them hard.

Ran kisses your cheek, proceeding to nibble on your ear. "Did you like my little brother's finger inside you?"

You shook your head.

"No? Something bigger?" Ran teased.

"Please." You begged.

Rindou adds another finger in while his other hand is stroking your face. "If you don't kiss Rindou for the next 10 seconds, I'll consider it."

Your mind is in a haze but you felt relief a little because you can withhold kissing the younger brother for a few seconds.

Ran's hand makes his way down there to the bundle of nerves. He pinches your clit, making you arch your back, and the action closes the small distance between you and Rindou, your lips accidentally brush Rindou's lips.

Ran and Rindou simultaneously stop. You whined, crying now really. They've been edging you for almost an hour. Fcking jerks. "Ran, please, please, please." He only gives you a lazy smile. You turn your head to the other. "Rindou? Please?"

"Too bad you couldn't help your slut tendencies, huh?" Ran presses a kiss on your shoulder as it shakes. You're so exhausted, they keep bringing you up and up and up, only to stop. Fcking stupid! Fcking unfair!

"Just like you couldn't help but dress like a slut tonight, right Ran-nii? Going round like that, attracting too many eyes..." Rindou kisses your throat, and then your collarbone.

"Not my fault..." you couldn't help the whiny tone.

"Ah, so it's theirs?" Ran grabs your face in one hand, gripping your cheeks tightly. "Then, maybe me and little brother should go kill them all."

You squeaked. "No!"

"No? Then, better keep us company or we'd get bored and commit a massacre because you couldn't help but dress like a little slut."

---

AN:

I did not choose the playlist. The playlist chose me.

---

NEXT PART ->

#haitani x reader #haitani brothers #haitani ran headcanons #haitani rindou x reader #ran haitani #haitani rindou imagines #haitani ran imagines #tokyo revengers fanfiction #haitani rindou x you #haitani rindou x y/n #haitani ran x y/n #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran x you #haitani smut #tokyo revenger imagines #tokyo revenger smut #haitani ran smut #haitani rindou smut #haitani rindou

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folkwhorerain · 3 years

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy (Wanda Maximoff x fem reader)

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem reader

Summary: reader is a shy and insecure Avenger whit a crush on Wanda, but she never made the first move on the sokovian. What if, during a party, finally something happens between the two of them?

Warnings: angst, reader being insecure, language (I think?), alcohol and sexual tension (feel free to tell me if I should add more).

English is not my first language, so bare with my grammar please, lol. This is my first fanfiction ever so forgive me if it's not anything special or it is lame.

I got inspired by "Jealousy, Jealousy" by Olivia Rodrigo, so I suggest you listen to it while reading, if you want.♥️

You hated them. You hated Tony's parties.

Don't get me wrong, you enjoyed the Avengers company, but parties were definitely not your thing. You always felt... out of place.

You were fine with chatting with the team during this day when you spent some time together, but when parties where that huge like tonight's one, all you wanted to do was staying in your room.

The fact is that you can't help but compare yourself to the others. You never felt enough and you were intimated by Tony's friends and the other heroes. You were just... You. No one special with no cool superpowers, you were good at hand to hand combat and you were really smart, but that was it; you always thought that was lame. Like that wasn't enough, you were the newest recruit in the team. The Avengers all welcomed you well and you grew attached to all of them, especially Natasha, but still, you didn't feel like that was enough for you to be considered "the cool Avenger", and you were still private about your feelings and emotions; when something was wrong the only answer that you had when they asked you what bothered you was "it's nothing". But it wasn't nothing. You felt an outsider in the team, you felt like you weren't enough for them and the worst part is that you knew it was all in your head, but you couldn't help it.

The first person that always comes to your mind when you think of someone cool is Wanda. Her powers affascinates you and you loved her determination. You can't say you two are close, but she always treated you well and she respected your boundaries, that's why now you have a crush on her and that's part of the reason you didn't want to go to the party. Seeing her well dressed while smiling to people who weren't you and while Vision was trying to get her attention would only make it worse.

You considered staying in your room while scrolling your social media, not having any strength to get up and get ready, especially when you were still in your bathrobe and your thoughts were only about a certain witch. However you knew Natasha would've dragged you out of the room if you wouldn't come so, after a few curses and annoyed groans, you threw your phone on the pillow and started to get dressed.

You didn't want to get the attention to you, people would start a conversation and tonight you weren't into it at all, so you opted for a green skirt and a black, cropped sweater and a little bit of makeup. Nothing more.

I'm already so sick of this bullshit, you thought to yourself, then you took a deep breath and went downstairs.

–

As you expected, the biggest room of the Stark Tower was filled with people you didn't know, but you were sure they were mostly Tony's friends.

They were all so confident with their drinks in hands, perfect combed hair and fancy dresses worth millions of dollars.

You weren't nothing like these people: you didn't get why people would spend millions for pieces of cloth. It was a waste of money, but how you wished you saw it differently, maybe you would be one of these apparently happy people with a lot of friends, and not the weirdo of the group with a lack of confidence so evident you couldn't even enjoy a relaxing event.

A few tears tried to escape your eyes, but you wouldn't let them. Steve was watching you and, from the look he was giving you, he already sensed something was off with you; so you did what was best and faked a smile, which he returned gladly before he went back to his conversation with Bucky.

You felt like a creep standing in the corner of the room doing nothing, so you started looking around searching for Nat. After a few second you saw her talking, or better, flirting with Bruce at the bar while she had a Martini on her hand.

You frowned sympathetically. Cute. He really likes her a lot, you thought seeing Bruce embarrassed and intimidated by the widow.

Suddenly a waiter asked you if you wanted a glass of wine and you accepted, maybe a little alcohol would help you get through this more easily. You took a sip and enjoyed the feeling of the wine in your throat.

“This is ridiculous.” you whispered.

“What is ridiculous?” you heard someone ask you.

You turned to see who it was and that's when you saw her: Wanda was smiling at you with a curious expression on her face.

You blinked a few times, amazed by the girl in front of you: she was wearing a short, black dress, and her ginger hair was loose on her shoulders. She decided to put on a little bit of makeup and a red lipstick. Not like her typical style, but you liked her anyway. She was always so beautiful.

You shook your head, realizing she was waiting for an answer. "Uhm, parties, I guess.” She nodded. “I mean, Tony's events are always too exaggerated.” you added before biting your lips, clearly embarrassed.

“I know how you feel.” Wanda agreed. “I always have to try so hard to fit in during things like these.” She chuckled while looking around the room.

“Well, at least you're trying.” You said before giving her a dry laugh, looking down at your glass.

The ginger tilted her head sympathetically. “Well, maybe that's the problem.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... trying too hard is the problem.” She explained. “If you feel like you have to try so hard it becomes unbearable, maybe that means that the thing you're doing is not good for you.” She added before biting the inside of her cheek.

You simply hummed in agreement and took another sip of wine, too intimated by her beauty.

Don't think something awkward. She can read minds. Don't think how beautiful she is- shit. Stop thinking.

“If you'll excuse me, Vision is looking for me.” She said with a smirk on her face before leaving you alone again.

You watched her walk away, analizing her every move. God, how you wanted her to be yours. She was not, of course. Why would she be with someone like you? She could have Vision and every other man in this room, so why would she choose a girl like you? Speaking of the devil, Vision approached her with a few guys and she gave him her brightest smile.

You watched all the interaction, still in the corner of the room.

He was so confident with his perfect posture and his good manners. He would be the best for her. He's the kind of man, or synthezoid, or whatever, that could always reassure her and find the perfect words to make her feel better. He would try and cheer her up and find the better jokes to tell, just like he's probably doing right now. In fact the sokovian was laughing at something he said and her beautiful laugh echoed through the room.

You felt jealousy rush through your veins.

“I wanna be him so bad!”

All the people in the room turned to look at you with puzzled expression.

Your eyes went wide when you realized you practically yelled what you wanted was just a thought so, without a second thought, you rushed out of the party and went straight to your room.

You slammed the door and let the tears escape. You took off your make up and headed straight to bed, overthinking what just happened, screaming in your pillow.

I always ruin everything!

You didn't expect you would've said that out loud and right now you didn't expect to hear someone to knock on your door. You didn't answer, though, you kept your head buried in the pillow. It was probably Natasha who wanted to talk about what happened and you definitely weren't going to say a word.

The door opened anyway and you groaned in annoyance.

“Listen, Nat-” You started to say but stopped immediately when you saw it wasn't the russian spy, but Wanda.

“Hi.” She greeted you with a shy smile. “May I sit?” She asked pointing the bed.

You composed yourself and nodded shyly. “Yeah.”

Wanda gave you a swift smile and sat next to you, crossing her legs on the bed. Your breath itched when you felt your knees touching. You two have never been this close and the situation was making you nervous, thing that didn't go unnoticed by Wanda considering the fact that you were playing with the ring on your index finger.

You never noticed but Wanda knows you very well. She knows your moves, the way you play with your hands when you're nervous, the way your eyes shine when you talk about your interests or the way you are quieter than usual when you're sad.

The truth is that Wanda liked you very much and she knew you liked her too. She didn't want to tell you 'cause she wanted you to take courage and say it first and, to be fully honest, she was scared. What if your crush was temporary and you would eventually get bored? What if she loses you just like she lost her parents and Pietro? She would never, ever accept it.

“So... Why did you run away?” She asked like it wasn't obvious you just yelled in front of everyone.

“Are you seriously asking, Wanda?” You snapped before you could stop yourself.

She looked at you with sad eyes before looking down at her hands. “Sorry…”

“No, no... Don't apologize.” You whispered. “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn't have… God, I'm pathetic.”

You threw your head in your hands and sighed. I'm so sick of myself!

“Why are you sick of yourself?” The sokovian asked you before placing a hand on your knee.

You looked at the hand and then at her.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have read your mind, but sometimes your thoughts are really loud.” she chuckled, starting to rub her thumb on your knee. You were speechless, all this interaction was making you crazy. You craved more of her touch and now, more than ever, you wanted to kiss her. However you pushed those feelings aways and started to open up to avoid thinking about something inappropriate. “I'm just… me. I mean, I'm not special.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked raising an eyebrow, her hand never leaving your skin.

You took a deep breath. “Wanda, come on! Tony's friends are so cool, he's loved by everyone, Natasha is a badass russian spy, you have these amazing superpower. Thor is literally a God, for fuck's sake!”

“You compare yourself to the others too much. It's not healthy, Y/N.” She sweetly stated wiping away a tear from you cheek.

You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying her touch, but then you came back to reality. “I know, but I can't help it. The others seem to be so confident and happy, and all the girls at the party... Fuck, they're so pretty-”

"Beauty is not your lack.” She interrupted you smirking, her hand still on your cheek.

“I- I just wish I was them... I wish I had the courage Vision has.” You admitted, looking down.

“Why him?” The ginger asked placing two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her in those piercing green eyes.

“Because I'm so jealous he gets all your attentions and I don't just because I'm too insecure.” You said it in a whisper, almost inaudible, but Wanda heard you and you knew judging by the smile on her face.

“You want my attentions?” She asked leaning in.

Her face was so close to yours that it was hard to breathe. You could smell her perfume and that alone was making you want her more. You had the urge to kiss her and touch her and taste her, but right now Wanda was waiting for a response so you simply nodded, not trusting your voice.

“You already have them.” She admitted, making you frown in confusion. “There might be a hundred people in the room, but I would always notice you and only you, Y/n.” You were speechless, partly because of her confession, partly because she was so damn close to your face it made your heart race fast, and before you could realise, she kissed you.

Her lips were so soft against yours and her hands were in the right places. However, after a few moments, you realized you froze and didn't reproached the kiss. Wanda broke the kiss, a disappointed look on her face.

“I'm sorry, I thought you liked me t-”

Before she could finish her sentence, you kissed her. You kissed her with so much confidence it surprised both you and Wanda.

Your right hand was on her neck and the other was on her waist, pulling her close.

You felt her smirk on the kiss and the hand that before was on your knee now was up your thigh.

“God, this skirt was making me crazy the whole night.” She breathed out, making the hand go higher and higher where you needed it the most.

Before you could realize you still had your party outfit on, Wanda started caressing slowly your inner thigh, making you gasp. Hearing the affect she had on you, the ginger bite your lobe before whispering something that made you shiver.

“Let me show you all the attentions I have for you, babygirl.”

alright, that was it. I know it's not good, but I had this idea the other night and I just had to write it.

Feedback is appreciated. <3

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #marvel #mcu x reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #black widow #thor odinson #steve rogers #marvel cinematic universe #comics #wandavision #Vision #paul bettany

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tealeafgrimm · 2 years

Text

Learn to live again

George Weasley X Reader Words: 1.4k Warnings: mentions of death, loss, grieve Summary: After Fred's death, nothing is the same any more. How do you go on living when the person you shared your whole life with is no longer there? George is confronted with this question and you try to help him. A/N: I feel really bad for posting this after last weeks post was about Fred 🙈. But, I still hope you kinda enjoy it. Also, I would like to become more considered to trigger warnings, so if you think I should add some, please feel free to let me know.

Dying was part of life. Dying was normal. Human. Grief was part of life. You were aware of that. It was not the first time you had lost loved ones. But this time it was different. No long or severe illness, no beautiful long fulfilled life. And it was not only your own grief that you had to deal with.

The question whether your life would change after Fred's death had not even arisen, because the answer was obvious. Of course, it wouldn't be the same. You were also aware that George would be the most affected. What you only realised later was how difficult it would be for you to be there for George. Not because you didn't want to be there, but because you didn't know how.

For the first two months you felt like you were walking on eggshells. You wanted to give him time to grieve without making him feel like you weren't there for him. When he locked himself in your bedroom, you didn't try to stop him. Instead, you made sure to leave food at the door before going about your own daily routine.

When you woke up at night to George screaming and crying next to you, you didn't try to comfort him with empty words. Instead, you wordlessly took him in your arms and silently wept by his side.

Little by little, however, you had to go on with your lives. As difficult as it was for you. To make work without Fred as easy as possible for George, you had given up your previous work with the ministry. What was left of the Joke Shop was rebuilt with hours of effort.

"It feels so wrong," George whispered as you entered the shop together on the morning of the reopening.

"I think it's good for you. It was your dream. His dream. He would like it," you replied to your boyfriend, taking his hand in yours.

"I hope you're not angry with me. But I changed something in the shop last night." With an uncertain smile, you pulled George towards the tills. On the wall behind the counter, Fred beamed at you out of a huge photograph. Out of the corner of your eye you could see George trying to suppress tears. After a few seconds he hugged you, hoping you could feel the gratitude and love he felt for you.

As more time passed, your lives became more normal. Even though it wasn't easy, you tried to bring back the smile that was constantly on George's face prior to Fred's death. It was mostly little things you could do to bring out the smile. And with every laugh and every smirk, the 'old' George continued to shine through.

Eight months after the final battle, you surprised George with tickets to a Quidditch match of the newly formed English national team. George was thrilled. The last time he had played Quidditch himself was before the pink toad had banished him and the last match, he had seen live had been overshadowed by the actions of the Death Eaters.

"Did I tell you I love you?", beamed George as you presented him with the tickets.

"Hmm...maybe once or twice," you replied smirking, tilting your head. Taking your face in his hands, George gave you a long, deep kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." And yet you did know. Quidditch had always been something he had shared with Fred. And watching a game, feeling the atmosphere, would bring him a little closer to his twin. If only for a few hours.

The hardest day, however, came in April. His birthday. Fred's birthday. The day that from now on would forever stand for the fact that something was wrong. That one was living and ageing while the other was missing. You could feel the tension emanating from George days in advance. You knew he dreaded the day. This one day that had always bonded Fred and him more than anything else. For the first time you didn't ask George what he wanted to do that day. What cake, what presents. Molly had made it known to you a week prior, that she insisted that the two of you would come for dinner. It was hard for her too, but she wanted to maintain a bit of normality.

On the first of April, when you woke up, George was no longer lying next to you. His side of the bed cold. The flat was quiet and you realised he was probably already at the shop trying to distract himself. Even though you didn't know what George's reaction would be, you decided to bake him a little birthday cake. Not giving him anything just felt wrong.

Hearing the front door open, you lit the candles on the cake with a flick of your wand. With a smile on your face and the cake in your hands, you waited in the kitchen doorway. Not a minute later, he was standing in front of you. Upon seeing you, cake outstretched in his direction, congratulations extended, he did not return your smile. His expression was unreadable. Your own smile fell and you set the cake down on the table.

"George?" you whispered, taking a step towards him. Carefully, as if you feared he would run away if you moved too quickly, you put a hand on his shoulder. The moment your hand touched him, he seemed to awake from his petrified state.

"What is this? What do you think you're doing?" The anger in his voice and the volume with which he addressed you caught you off guard.

"I-I don't understand what you...I just wanted...your birthday. I just wanted to cheer you up. Nothing big, just a cake." You had expected that he wouldn't want to celebrate his birthday, but you hadn't expected such an outburst.

"And you think something like this makes it better. This is supposed to cheer me up. When HE'S not around."

"George, I know this is hard, I..."

"YOUN DON’T KNOW ANYTHING! STOP TRYING TO MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER! NOTHING IS GETTING BETTER! NOTHING! YOU KEEP TRYING TO FIND SOME KIND OF " ENJOYMENT " FOR ME! DON'T YOU REALIZE THAT NOTHING IS GOING TO CHANGE! THE ONLY THING THAT WOULD BRING ME JOY WILL NEVER COME BACK! SO STOP IT ALREADY! YOU ARE ANNOYING!"

George was breathing heavily, tears burning in his eyes. Infuriated, he looked down at the floor in an attempt to keep them from falling. Without luck.

You didn't know what to say or do. With your mouth open, your face pale and your eyes wide, you stood in front of him and didn't move.

And then George fell to the floor in front of you. Sobbing, trembling, helpless.

"I-i-it, I'm s-o-o-o sorry..." The words were difficult to understand between his sobs and his hands, frantically trying to stop the tears.

Within a split second, you were sitting next to him on your apartment floor. Your arms wrapped around him and George buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands ran through his hair and you began to rock your body back and forth, hoping the movements would calm him. You didn't know how long you were holding him. Eventually his breathing became steadier, the hot tears falling from his face onto your skin stopped and George lifted his head.

"I'm sorry. I never should have yelled at you..."

"It's all right. I'm right here. I know today is especially hard. I just want you to know that I'm always here for you, okay?" One hand wiped the last tears from his cheek while the other rested on his forearm.

"I still shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You're trying so hard and all I do is yell at you." Ashamed, George took your hands in his, brought them to his lips and kissed them several times.

"I love you," he whispered after a few seconds and leaned over to give you a proper kiss.

"I love you too George," you replied, returning the kiss.

"And to make up for it, I want you to eat a piece of cake and praise my baking skills, okay?" With that you stood up, held out your hand and pulled George, who was smiling by now, up.

Dying is part of life. Grieving is part of life. But learning to live again is also part of it.

#harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasly x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley #reader insert #one shot #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #damiano david imagine #damiano david #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 5

You snag exclusive fan meet tickets, but as you shake hands with your favorite idols, something strange happens…

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x Reader / Yoongi x Reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x Reader

Here we gooooo. I have a special place in my heart for Yoongs, I think this might be my favorite handshake yet. Enjoy the craziness!

Warnings: death, blood, guns, stabbing, fighting, bondage, drunk sex, rough sex Yoongi and y/n are just two kinky idiots in love, ANGST so much angst why, let me know if I need to add more I know it’s dark.

Word Count: 10.6k

“So you think if I touched her, it would happen to me too? Is that why-” Taehyung turns to a defeated Jin.

“I don’t know.” He can’t stop thinking about you, his body hurts, his chest hurts.

“I want to try, this is so unfair.” Taehyung whines.

Namjoon sighs, “Well…”

You hear a knocking at the door. Your legs felt numb. How long have you been sitting here? You were too lost in your thoughts, reliving moments that weren’t yours.

“Hello? Unlock the door.”

You know that voice. No way.

You’ve listened to his solo songs on repeat so many times, his deep voice and sharp tongue playing in your ears for hours at times.

For lack of better judgment, you decide to stay silent. You slowly unlock the stall door trying not to make a sound as you tiptoe to the door. You rest your ear against the wood hoping to hear something. You consider maybe it was just another delusion. There is just no way.

“We know you’re in there.” You flinch from the door, the idol’s voice is as clear as day.

“I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do what you think I did..I-I don’t even know what I-I just want to go home. Please...” You put your palm on the door, a superficial gesture you know won’t make a difference, much like a nod to a person over the phone, and rest your head on the door waiting for his response. There is a long silence.

The weary idol stands in front of the bathroom door. He should have let Namjoon handle it, he thinks, why did he volunteer? When security came to tell them you had locked yourself in the bathroom, it brought up old memories he didn’t like thinking about, it made him want to help you. So before anyone else could, he volunteered to get you. But now he felt inadequately prepared, he should have just let Namjoon handle it.

He gestures to the security to give him some space. He rests his head on the door and sighs, instead of reaching for the door handle he rests his hand above it.

“Can I please come in? Open the door, it will just be me, I promise.” The idol switches to Korean, hoping you understand him. “I just want to talk to you. And then you can leave.” Actually, he doesn’t know if it will be that easy, but at this point he would tell you anything to get you to open the door.

He hears the slow scrape of metal as the lock turns. He gives security one last look to stay back before opening the door. You shuffle back quickly as the door opens and in walks Min Yoongi of BTS.

Yoongi shuts the door and locks it again. You try to give him space, but he advances towards you. So you keep giving him space and he puts his hand up in surrender, like someone would when approaching a scared animal.

“Hello.” He greets you in English. This was a bad idea.

“H-Hello.” You both face each other awkwardly.

This was the last thing you’d ever expect to happen, standing alone in a bathroom with BTS’s Suga. You feel like you’re burning up, you wonder how you haven’t managed to pass out as the rapper watches you in silence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I freaked out. I’ll just go home, I promise I won’t ever talk about what happened. I-I mean, I don’t know what happened, nothing-“

“It will be okay. Breath.” He speaks in English to you again. “Take a deep breath. Count to ten.”

You’re shaking again. He’s being so nice to you, it makes you want to cry even more.

“C’mon, count.”

You start counting in shaky Korean, glancing over at the rapper who tries to hide a smile at the way you recite the words like a school child taking a test, you finish and feel like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, your own lips curving upward as you begin to relax.

“Do you understand me when I speak Korean?” Yoongi says in Korean. You nod.

“Do you understand me when I speak in English?” The rapper nods back. “Most of it, yes,” he confesses.

You stand there awkwardly too scared to speak, gripping the sink counter to steady yourself, your reflections stare back at you in the bathroom mirror. The rapper looks perfect in his button down and styled hair, you on the other hand-

You laugh, “Oh god, I look horrible.” You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face to get rid of your dried tears.

“No you don’t.” The rapper leans on the counter looking at you, grabbing a paper towel to hand to you. He is making it very hard for you to pretend he’s not there.

You watch him through the mirror’s reflection, “Thank you.” The words barely come out of your mouth. You turn around and lean on the counter beside him, making sure to keep your distance. ‘This is the weirdest night of my life,’ you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

The two of you stand there next to each other in silence for a painfully long time.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hand palm side up and gives you a sideways glance. “I owe you, don’t I?”

You stare at his hand, study the silver rings around his fingers.

“...A handshake.”

“What?” You can only gawk at him.

“You paid all this money for handshakes from all members...”

That was not what you expected. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You grip the counter tighter, “I don’t want to, really, it’s okay.”

“I insist.” You can hear the frustration in his voice.

“No...It’s okay. I won't hold it against you.”

Yoongi frowns, slowly lowering his hand, feeling stupid. How is he supposed to get you to touch him?

He chews on his bottom lip and sneaks a glance at you again. Against all his instincts, when he realized he had another chance to see you, he took it with no question. You scared him and yet he felt himself gravitating to you. Everything that transpired had given him so many questions, and you were the only answer. “Please, I want to know-I want to know if it’s true.” Yoongi pauses, “I just want to understand why I feel the way I do being around you.”

You realize just how close the rapper stands next to you, your shoulders almost touching, had he moved closer and you didn’t even realize it? Did you?

You glance over at him, he looks so vulnerable and lost, nothing like the intimidating idol who stood in front of you at the fanmeet. He seemed so untouchable, now he’s asking you to do just that. You want to give in, you think it’s the least you can do for him, and then he’ll realize his mistake and let you go home.

You brace yourself and push away from the counter behind you, turning to face the rapper.

“Okay, but you’ll probably regret it,” you whisper, extending your hand.

Yoongi goes to grab your hand but you move yours just out of reach before he has a chance to, “Don’t say I didn't warn you...” Yoongi nods to you. He grabs your hand.

“Can you let go of me already.” You whisper as Yoongi holds you in a death grip.

“Yeah, let’s just blow our entire cover.” Yoongi hisses. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. Yoongi doesn’t do field missions, his talents are long range. Away from people, especially you.

“And can you stop looking at me like that, you’re supposed to be acting like my wife,” he warns lowly in your ear, you think he’s going to dislocate a finger the way he’s squeezing your hand. Yeah right, like you would ever marry a man like Min Yoongi.

You’re annoyed. Annoyed at the man next to you, annoyed they required you to have a male partner at all, like you needed a babysitter to do your job. On top of it all, it had to be him.

The gala you walk into is being held for top diplomats and politicians from all over the world. You let Yoongi pull you through the crowds as you scan the room for your target, a corrupt delegate who has a swath of information that could be useful to the state. You pull on Yoongi’s arm to get his attention, “Your left, 9 o’clock.”

He pulls you closer before you can advance on the target, grabbing your chin to face him instead, to anyone else it would look like a romantic gesture, for you it’s just another tactic Yoongi uses to keep you leashed to him. “We should make sure there aren’t any threats first.”

You’ve never been a woman to accept the cages men tried to confine you to, you have claws and you know how to use them. You lean into Yoongi, you can feel his body stiffen as you press your chest against his. You place a kiss on his cheek, bringing his arms around you until he gives in and grips your body instead, “That’s your job isn’t it, let me do mine,” you give him your best smile, but your eyes show him your true emotions as you glare at him with hatred. And with that, you were able to slip away from Yoongi’s grasp.

You drop your suitcase onto the only bed in your small hotel room. You know you needed the sharp shooter to complete the mission, but why did you have to share a room with him too? And why do they keep assigning Yoongi to you? You’re a top agent, you could easily complete this mission with an amateur, anyone but the smug sniper who is making his way toward you now.

“We need to be on site at 23:00, so go do something while I sleep.” The agent starts unbuttoning his cuff, paying you little attention.

“So I’m not supposed to get any rest?” You cross your arms and frown at the jaded man in front of you, “What the hell am I supposed to do while you’re getting your beauty sleep?”

“Not my problem.” Yoongi is sleep deprived and more irritable than usual. “You slept on the plane ride here, I know because your snoring kept me up the entire flight.”

You feel your face go hot with anger and embarrassment. “Well, I’m not leaving. This is my room too!”

“Do what you want! I don’t care.” the sniper yells. He needs to sleep so he can keep you safe, he thinks, ‘ungrateful brat.’

He moves past you shoving his shoulder into yours. In your anger, you shove him back. He turns around glaring at you, then decides to shove you again, this time with his hands. Yoongi is stubborn, but you’re more stubborn, you push him again, and now you’re in a shoving match with your own partner.

“Will you stop!” he yells, pushing you so hard your back hits the hotel wall.

“You first!” The next time you push your hand into his shoulder Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you hand forward, slamming his chest into you and crushing you between his body and the wall.

He glares down at you, his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Why did he do that? ‘Ugh idiot,’ and now you're thinking about his lips, the thoughts make you glance down. ‘Fuck, why did I do that?’ He catches the movement of your eyes.

You stand trapped against his strong frame, you think about elbowing him away, sweeping his feet and knocking him out for daring to test you like this, but you needed him at the top of his game for tonight. You squirm in his grasp while he stares down at you with an unreadable expression.

Eventually, when you feel like the pounding of your pulse might give you a heart attack Yoongi removes himself from you and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. You hear the shower start. ‘Why does it have to be him,’ you wonder, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You decide to go grab some food. There’s a pit in your stomach, it must be hunger you think.

---

You walk the perimeter of the house, leaving the man you coaxed into bringing you into his home asleep in his bed. The sleep sedatives you laced in his drink made sure he wouldn’t bother you while you search his mansion. You had to work quickly and quietly.

“Two guards, headed your way.” Yoongi’s voice comes through in your earpiece, letting you slip into an empty room undetected.

“Clear?”

“Clear.” Yoongi’s deep voice crackles in your ear.

You make your way down the third floor hallway until you reach a large door.

Yoongi watches you through heat sensor binoculars. “There are five guards behind that door, do not engage.”

“I guess I’m getting warmer then.” You remove the knife around your thigh. “Do you have a clear shot on any of them?”

The sniper sees three windows, two blocked almost entirely by a curtain, the last only slightly covered, the situation was not ideal. “Negative. You’ll have to push them to the far open window so I can get a better shot.”

You look at the large windows of the hall you stand in. “Do you have a clear shot on me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You smirk, “You ruin your perfect record? Doubt it.”

You knock on the door, ignoring Yoongi hissing in your ear, “So much for the element of surprise.”

“This is not the bathroom!” You stab the first guard in the neck. As he falls, clutching his throat and spluttering for air, you hug your body to the wall. When the next guard runs out you kick the pistol out of his hand. He fights against your advances, he’s strong and trained, but even then one can only take so many stabs to the body. The rest of the men advance on you, two drop, you see the bullet holes in their skulls.

“Thanks-” the last man lunges at you, putting you in a chokehold. He’s tall, he lifts you up and you lose your footing. You swing your knife, blade piercing his arms, but his hold on you stays. You kick in his grasp, your legs make contact with the wall and you both go down.

“I don’t have eyes on you. Get him in my sight!” You’d like to yell at Yoongi that that’s exactly what you were trying to do, but the guard’s hold on your windpipe makes it impossible. You aim your knife for his sides until his grip on you lessens. You roll off of him and start crawling, hoping he falls into your trap. He grabs your leg, you use the momentum to twist your body and kick him in the chest, before he falls on his back, he’s already dead. You can always count on Yoongi to never miss a headshot.

“Like I was saying, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse. Yoongi scoffs in your ear.

As you work to open the safe you’ve located, you hear Yoongi’s voice again, “Get out of there now! Twelve guards headed your way!”

“Just twelve?” You grab the dead mans’ guns and barricade yourself in the room. You pull every curtain you see down and fall to the floor just in time as gunfire fills the room.

Yoongi watches you take the men down one by one. You move in a chaotic dance around the room, there’s a preciseness to your movements, and also a wildness in your actions. You’re like a feral tiger, eating your targets alive. Yoongi’s impressed. The sniper lines up shot after shot, giving you as much cover as he can offer. He tries to keep your bloodshed to a minimum, you set up the pins, he knocks them down.

He is more than happy to deal the final blow. As he adds another tick to his total body count, he hopes you’ll be okay. Physically, he knows you’ll be fine, but mentally, he worries about you. Memories with you after similar missions still haunt him, the quiet anguish that fills you after every big bloodbath. It’s become a ritual to spend nights together after a mission, neither of you able to sleep soundly, you’d often wonder out loud to Yoongi if the dead men had wives or children, ask if it bothered him, ‘destroying families.’ It didn’t, if he’s being honest, they were horrible men and their families were probably better off without them in his eyes, but he knew it bothered you.

So, he doesn’t mind killing for you, it’s not because he cares about you, no, it’s just easier to get through missions that way. He would rather have everyone think you’re a tiger, Yoongi knows the truth.

Yoongi pulls you back, concealing your bodies from the advancing enemies. You look at him questionly. He places a finger to his mouth to keep you quiet. He signs with his hands, ‘two,’ ‘ahead,’ ‘you wait,’ ‘I’ll go around.’ You nod in agreement. You wait, straining your ears to hear signs of struggle. You hear footsteps running towards your direction. You grab the enemy and knock him out before he can make a sound. Yoongi is pulling you away, handing you a black bag you assume is full of data your agency so desperately wanted. You make a quiet getaway, grateful you can hide in the shadows and follow Yoongi to your escape: a boat that can get you to international waters. You stretch and watch the night sky as Yoongi starts the engine. “I didn’t die.” you hum.

“You say that like you’re disappointed.”

You snort, kicking the bag you and Yoongi risked your lives for. You turn to him, “Thank you, comrade, you saved my life.”

Yoongi shuffles uncomfortably, you’re being pleasant and it’s weird. “You’re welcome.”

“We make a good team, hmm?”

You sit on Yoongi’s workbench. In his space. The two of you work in silence as you put together the pieces of your handgun. He cleans the parts of his sniper rifle. He hands you the last piece of your weapon, it’s easier working here with him, his office is quiet. He doesn’t try to make small talk with you, you hate small talk. Your days are not “good.” You’re sick of using your body to lure in your targets, having to do things more than what you’re comfortable with on multiple occasions to complete the mission. But as a female agent, sometimes you think that’s all you're good for, and they would kill you if you tried to leave now. Escaping and living a quiet life without the man who sits next to you, not being able to protect him, you don’t want that either.

You hop off the table, Yoongi had also gotten up from his chair to grab more rags and you collide into each other. He grabs your waist to steady you. You bodies press against one another. You hold your breath. As his strong hands move you to the side, he mutters a sorry.

Yoongi is livid. He is slamming drawers and yanking open cabinet doors as you slowly make your way to sit onto the medical table. The safehouse is empty except for you and him.

“Are you insane or just stupid?” Your partner advances on you hastily, a medical kit in his hands.

You roll your eyes, “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” The blood seeping from your side and over your fingers betrays your words.

Yoongi yanks your hand away and grabs the tattered corners of your blood covered shirt and rips it. You try to stay stoic as you sit in front of him in only a bra while Yoongi works to clean and bandage your wound. His actions are so aggressive your body jerks back and forth from his movements. He pulls a bandage particularly tight and you yell, glaring at him. He glares back at you.

“You could have died.” Yoongi says softly. He keeps his eyes trained on your wound, adding the image to the list of reasons on why he doesn’t get close to people.

“And you would have died.”

His hands drop to the medical table as he cages you in. His dark eyes bore into yours, you hate how it makes you feel: vulnerable. “Don’t risk your life for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

---

“Tell me how much you want me.” Your partner’s low voice whispers in your ears. You think you’d rather die.

His fingernails scratch your scalp as he grabs a hold of your hair and yanks back, pulling you against his front. Your hip digs painfully into the dresser in front of you, as he pushes his body closer to yours. Your face feels tight, the pain burns your scalp, a reminder that you still can feel something. Everything in your life makes you feel numb, but Yoongi makes you feel alive. You hate how addicted you’ve become to his touches.

“If you don’t say it, you won’t get anything,” he tuts, tightening his hold on your hair and a moan escapes you. He pulls your head back and places soft kisses on the column of your neck.

Yoongi waits, his lips attached to your neck as he grinds his hard erection into your ass until you lose yourself to pleasure, unable to take his teasing any longer.

“I want you.”

“I can’t hear you.”

You grind your teeth, “You’re pushing it.”

Yoongi grabs your breast, “Tell me, kitty.” His rough hands on your body is exactly what you want, makes you drip with arousal, but you’ll never tell him that. Instead, you move your hands behind you and grab at his hard erection.

“I can’t seem to remember what I was going to say, do you?” You run your hand down his length and squeeze, his hold on your hair loosens ever so slightly as his breathing turns shallow.

He’s used to your stubborn nature by now, but this kind of fight is something you’ll never win. Yoongi grabs your wrist and holds your arm in place, twisting your arm in a lock and bending you over the dresser. You struggle against him, as he opens your legs wider with his own. “You know kitty, you’re not invincible. Always ready to start a fight. If you’re not careful, someone might decide to teach you a lesson.”

You can see him out of the corner of your eye. He normally looks so composed, but the way he stares down at you so hungrily, he looks wild, eyes blown wide by lust.

“And is that you?” you laugh, grunting as he pushes down on you, grabbing your other arm and locking it behind your back. The weight of him against your back increases, stealing air from your lungs. His low voice whispers teasingly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “Do you want it to be me?”

Yoongi stands, watching you struggle against his hold. He knows it would be easy for you to get away from him if you really tried, and the knowledge that you’re submitting to him in your own stubborn way makes his body hot and dick throb. He squeezes your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your center. You’re so wet, your underwear drenched in arousal. He bites back a moan, pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing deep circles into you and forcing a whine to escape your lips. He lifts up your skirt, yanking the wet fabric of your underwear down to your thighs. Then his touch becomes slow and teasing. He runs his fingers along your slit, drenching his digits in your essence and bringing them to his mouth. You taste so good, fuck he can’t get enough of you, Yoongi is going to wreck you.

You watch him licking his fingers, the erotic scene making you clench unsatisfyingly around nothing. “Please…” you whisper, the sight of him had broken down your walls.

Yoongi unzips his pants and pulls himself out. He takes no more time, plunging into your heat suddenly. You shudder, it feels so good to have him inside you. He finally lets go of you to grip the flesh of your hips, slamming into you over and over. The force of his thrusts takes your breath away, as your body shifts up and down against the hard surface of his dresser.

With every thrust you feel the tension in your body uncoil, you never want this to end, you’d rather drown in the pleasure he’s giving you then come up for air and deal with the pain of your life. “You feel so good-fuck me harder!” The words leave your lips without thought. You don’t want to feel anything else but his bruising touches, you don’t want to think of anything else but him.

Yoongi grips your shoulder with one hand, moving your body to meet his thrusts as his pace becomes brutal. Your entire body vibrates with pleasure as he manhandles you. You pulse around him as you let go. Yoongi goes faster, using your body to climax, you let yourself moan freely, losing yourself to the pain and pleasure of overstimulation. You can feel him filling you up as he shakes against you.

Your world comes back into focus as you gasp for breath, your body slumped against the desk. “Is that all you’ve got? Hardly a lesson.” Yoongi laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle. He lifts you up and throws you onto the bed. You land with a huff.

---

The silence is deafening as you lay across from your partner. The twin bed in the cheap motel room you share makes it impossible for either of you to have your own space. Neither of you can sleep, and you’re both too tired to complain about the situation, so you stare at each other in the darkness, the neon lights outside your window bathe your faces in soft hues of blue. The cheap sheets scratch your skin, you can feel the hard edges of your gun underneath the old thin hotel pillow, but the soft fabric of Yoongi’s long sleeve shirt feels nice against the back of your hand. You absentmindedly brush your hand against his arm, your fingers play with the baggy material, rolling the fabric between your fingers. Yoongi places his free hand over yours to stop your actions. You’re too tired to question him, nor do you want to break the silence. Yoongi’s features are calm, his hardness is all gone tonight, when he relaxes you think he looks quite soft. Tonight Yoongi doesn’t look like a trained killer at all, his messy hair frames his face and his usual cold eyes radiate warmth. You study each other through half open eyes. Eventually, Yoongi closes his eyes, but doesn’t remove his hand from atop yours. “Go to sleep,” he grunts.

You take a deep breath out. You focus on Yoongi’s steady breathing, trying to keep your heavy eyes open, scared of what you’ll see once you close them, faces of the dead petrified corpses that always reveal themselves against the darkness of your shut eyelids. You study the soft features of your partner instead, able to memorize the details of his face while you’re so close to him. You think of him until sleep takes over.

---

You groan in pain, not ready to open your eyes to the morning light. Your throat is sore and dry, and your entire body aches, especially a certain part of you, the realization snaps you awake. You realize you’re not alone in your bed, you open your blurry eyes to a head of jet black hair. A man sleeps on your naked chest, you can feel his lips against your breast as he quietly snores. You realize his messy locks, the slope of his nose and contours of his muscular arm are all familiar to you, because he’s not a stranger at all. Memories of last night come back to you slowly.

Images of your partner offering you his bourbon, and you gratefully accepting. The pleasant conversation you had together, no arguing or superfluous challenging, just meaningful stories and gentle banter. You remember your partner’s flushed face, the timid smile he tried to hide against his glass, his dark eyes pulling you in. The drunker you became the more you gravitated towards him, until you were pressed up against him, moaning against his lips as his tongue explored your mouth, and you begging him to fuck you. No no no no no.

A wave of mortification and humiliating arousal hits you. You shove your partner off you.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi’s head is pounding, and your punches are not weak. It’s too damn early to be fighting with you already, Yoongi thinks. He pins you down, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He yells, not understanding why you’re here or why you suddenly decided to attack him.

The way his hands pin your wrists brings on another wave of memories that invade your mind and makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. He looks down at you and notices the purple bruises littering your neck and chest, your chest that is absent of a shirt, and your very naked body, against his very naked body. He let’s go of you in his shock. You scoot away from him, pulling the bed sheets up to cover yourself. He stares at you, mouth wide open, trying to place the pieces of last night together. “Oh fuck.”

“This will never happen again.”

His eyes scan your body as his hazy mind replays the events of last night, his face goes red at thoughts of you writhing under him. Yoongi was so desperate to explore your body, make you moan his name. He prays you were too drunk to notice how badly he wanted you. “Never.”

---

You spot three guards in front of the door, ‘a little excessive,’ you think. You grin to yourself as you run through every possible take down you can use against them. They’re big men, and big men always underestimate women.

Yoongi sits patiently, the blindfold doesn’t permit him to see, but he smirks to himself as he hears the sounds of struggle outside.

He hears the door open and close, feet circling him. He struggles against his restraints. Suddenly he feels a weight in his lap. The blindfold is pulled off and he meets your self satisfied face smiling at him.

“Took you long enough.”

You pout. “I should leave you here.”

You press your lips against his. Pulling him close by the hair. He grunts into your mouth. You press yourself down on him, grinding into his hardening length.

Yoongi struggles against his restraints, wanting to pull you closer to him. “Untie me.”

There’s a glint in your eye as you pull away from him. You kiss his neck instead, sucking hard on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“You’re going to regret not listening to me, kitty.” Yoongi growls.

You laugh against his skin, working to undo his belt. Yoongi groans as you grip his length.

“I thought you were supposed to be rescuing me.”

“I am,” you lick your lips, “but then you had to go and let yourself get tied up.” You hop off his lap and kneel between his legs, Yoongi flexes his arms against the ropes, watching you intently. You bring the head of his shaft to your lips and kiss. The chair shakes as he pulls against his restraints groaning, you give him mercy as you suck him into your mouth, enjoying the way he struggles to keep his composure.

“You’ve had your fun,” he tries to hold in his moans, “you’re going to get yourself captured too because you're such a needy slut for my cock.” He thrusts his hips up, making you choke. It doesn’t deter you, as you press yourself deeper, your nose against his stomach, he shudders and the ropes dig into his wrists as he pulls harder against his restraints.

You pull off of him and look at him with a smirk. “I took care of the guards.” As if you already know Yoongi's next words you say, “I took care of all the guards.” Bringing your mouth around his length again, you suck him hard. You suck him down until you gag, over and over again until you can feel him swell, close to release, and you pull away. If looks could kill, you would have been added to Yoongi’s headcount. You jump to your feet and start cutting away the ropes that bind him.

“I’m untying you only because we are running out of time, not because you asked me to.”

He grunts, thinking of all the ways he’s going to use your body. “Noted.”

When free, Yoongi brings you into a crushing kiss, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Dangerous girl, you deserve to be punished.”

---

You allow yourself to rest against the cold concrete floor, making yourself comfortable in the dirt and grime. Your muscles are sore, and you’re tired. You’re tiredness doesn’t just come from surviving the mission, you’re sick and tired of it all. You were the first to make it to the scheduled rendezvous point, maybe the only one left. You hear footsteps and turn to see your partner jogging towards you, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he’s winded, skin covered in dirt from his hasty escape. When he sees you, he runs over to you, his eyes scan over your body but he doesn’t touch you. Your clothes are drenched in blood, but it’s not your own. You look like the walking dead, and you think you deserve to die, you’re a monster.

Yoongi sprawls out next to you, massaging his sore muscles. “If you had let them live your identity would have been compromised.” He knows you had no choice but to kill them. “You did what you had to do to complete the mission.”

“Stop talking, please.” You stare at his dirt covered face, you’re glad he made it out alive, and you wished you hadn’t. Your target had brought his wife and daughter, the agency didn’t warn you, or maybe they knew and didn’t care. You think about the love they must have had, so great he couldn’t be apart from them, and you not only took their lives, but took that love and destroyed it. You knew you were a killer, but you never thought you’d be a villain. You reach for your partner’s hand. He grips you tightly, his fingers are black with dirt, yours are stained with blood. You feel the weight on your chest become even heavier. You wonder if he could ever love you like that, you wonder if you’d just end up destroying that as well.

You lay asleep in Yoongi’s bed. His fingers run along your arm that rests on his chest. During the twilight hours, while you drift off to another world in your slumber, Yoongi allows himself to fully love you. He intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses the soft skin of your wrist, wrapping his arms around your sleeping frame. He let’s himself pretend you’re not in each other's company only for convenience, but because you love him as much as he loves you. He shouldn’t love you, love is too dangerous for people like him, love is a risk too big to take. But until the sun comes up again he gives in to his weaknesses. When you wake, he’ll be strong for you again, he’ll be your shield and protect you from everyone including himself.

---

“So you don’t want to work with me anymore?” You barge into Yoongi’s workspace. He keeps his face emotionless, choosing to ignore you.

So you press on, “I’m with Petrov now, I didn’t request a new partner, so it had to have been you. Why? Answer me!”

Yoongi leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “You’re overreacting, he’s new, they probably want you to show him how it’s done-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“There’s a good reason-”

“You’re lying, you’re doing that thing with your hands when you lie!” You yell.

Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, his anger getting the better of him, “Fine, maybe I don’t want to be your partner anymore!” You stay silent. “You’re reckless, you never listen to me, you almost died on our last mission. I’m...I’m tired of worrying about you.”

Your chest tightens in pain, his words sting more than any blade or bullet you’ve ever taken. You try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at you. ‘Coward,’ you think. You scoff, “Fine...Good...I don’t want to work with you either.” You turn on your heels to leave.

“Wait!” Yoongi stands from his desk and rushes after you. When you refuse to listen, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Please, stop,” he whispers in your ear.

You place your arms over his, let his warmth envelope you. You don’t understand him, he’s holding you like you’re about to break in his arms, but he’d let you go off into a mission without him? How could he do this to you? You thought you were a team, you thought you were...friends. You used to feel safe in his arms, now you just feel betrayal. You bite your lip, your sadness turns into bitterness, your bitterness into anger.

You dig your nails in his arms until he hisses and lets you go. You give your partner one last look before exiting his office, you give him one more chance. If he takes it, you’ll find a way to forgive him, to fix whatever it is that made him angry enough to break the bonds between you. But he stays silent, his silence speaks volumes, “Like you said, you don’t have to worry about me any longer. I'm not your problem anymore.” You slam his door shut.

Yoongi’s body is shaking. He slams his fist against the door. He rests his forehead against the wooden surface and swallows down the growing pressure in his throat, processing everything that just occurred. He made the right choice, this was for your own protection, he wouldn’t allow you to care more about his life than your own, he knows he’s right, so why does he feel so sick?

Your reputation precedes you, the tigresse, a top agent. You pull off impossible missions. Maybe it’s because you just don’t care if you can finish the job or not, you’ll choose the riskiest plays, find yourself in the most dangerous scenarios; you’ll choose the more daring escape route, and because of that people are afraid of you, even in your own agency. No one wants to work with you for too long, and you don’t want them to either, so you finally get what you wanted, to work alone. You’re at the top, all alone, there’s no congratulations in your line of work, no happiness.

Yoongi doesn’t have to worry about anyone anymore, even himself. On missions he used to view his sniper rifle as an extension of himself, now he feels just as cold and hollow as the barrel of his rifle, he’s become an empty killing machine. He can’t sleep at night, he wakes up to nightmares of you dying over and over again. Eventually, when he can’t take it anymore, he convinces his superiors to let him act as your backup without your knowledge, they only allow it because you’ve become too valuable to lose. He still can’t sleep at night, slowly losing his mind in solitude, trapped in a cage of loneliness by his own doing. He becomes a shadow, a ghost, making sure the legacy of their best agent survives.

You search for cover, the bullet holes in your body make every movement slow and painful. The holes in your leg keeps you on the ground. You pull yourself through the sea of dead bodies as bullets fly through the air.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, you start to aim your pistol.

“What are you doing here?” The gunman ignores you as he pulls your bloody body into his arms and runs.

Yoongi watched you from his post get shot, one, two, three times until he couldn’t take it anymore. When he couldn’t protect you from a distance anymore, he left his post, his decision as instantaneous as a traveling bullet.

He hides you and him, holding you close, looking over your wounds. He tries to put pressure on the bullet holes, but there are just so many. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I was supposed to protect you.”

You touch his face, you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cold fingers, he’s real. “You’re here.”

Yoongi’s trained ears listen to the gunfire as it becomes louder, a sign he needs to move again. He reloads his assault rifle, heaving you up to your feet. You groan as more blood gushes from your wounds. Yoongi uses his assault rifle to make another path for you and him. Your ex partner drags your body along, hiding again to reload.

“You need to save yourself. I’m not going to make it.” You say as you cough up blood. Yoongi pulls you up again, ignoring your words, refusing to accept he can’t save you. As he runs a stray bullet hits his shoulder and you both go down. Yoongi shoots to where he thinks the bullets came from, but his shoulder makes it difficult for him to aim.

“Stop! You can’t die too!” You aim your pistol at the two men advancing upon you from Yoongi’s blind spot. You manage to shoot one, but your blood loss makes your vision hazy and your aim too wide. The second man’s bullets hit Yoongi’s side. Yoongi adjusts his rifle and takes quick revenge. He doubles over in pain.

You grab his hand, your breathing is too shallow to tell him all the things you want to say. “Save yourself...”

“And leave you again? Never.”

Yoongi holds you until you take your last labored breath, and holds you still, until his own blood loss becomes too much.

---

Yoongi doubles over, crashing into you. You try to hold the rapper up, but you are faring no better, your body shakes in phantom pain. His entire weight is on you, you move against the wall for support as both of you try to catch your breath, his head leans on your shoulder, and he groans in agony. You grip his arms. Should you push him away? But you don’t want to. You want to pull him closer. You grip his arms harder, frozen, your mind and body remembering, remembering everything, and it takes every last bit of your willpower not to react.

Finally, after your breaths have settled, he steadies himself on his feet, still pressed against your frame. He lifts his head, you can feel his breath on the side of your face. He laughs weakly against you, “I don’t regret it.”

“What-“ his eyes pierce through you. You realize he hasn’t moved away from you still, you stare back into the idol’s eyes, it all feels so familiar, too familiar...

His nose brushes against your cheek, you hold your breath at the sensation, it’s so familiar. His lips ghost over yours and when you don’t pull away Yoongi presses his lips firmer onto yours.

You feel electricity in every vein, to the tips of your fingers, to the ends of the hair. Emotions that felt like distant memories scorch through you. Your legs buckle.

Yoongi had only meant to give you a quick kiss, just to see how it would compare to his wild memories, but the feelings that came over him overtook every sense of reason left in him. He deepened the kiss. You pulled him closer to you, it was automatic.

He felt his sanity slipping away with every inhale of your scent, a sprouting desire burst through him, a need everlasting lifetimes, it made him desperate to devour you. He pushes his leg in between yours to hold you steady when he feels you falling against him. You yell against his lips, his touch is too overwhelming and you feel yourself slipping away, you try desperately to stay in the moment, remember who you are to him actually. You push him away to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-“

You both jump at the pounding from the door. “Both of you need to come out now.” His voice is muffled, but you’d recognize the distinctive cadence of the BTS leader anywhere. Yoongi mutters words you don’t understand. You yelp as he grabs your hand, leading you to the door.

Namjoon is greeted by the sight of his bandmate and you looking particularly guilty as you leave the bathroom. The way Yoongi holds your hand does not go unnoticed by the leader.

You walk in between the rappers, security following behind you. You can tell Namjoon is annoyed, the way he glances at the nonexistent space between you and Yoongi and clenches his jaw. What are you supposed to do, not hold Min Yoongi’s hand? The firm hold he has on you is the only thing that’s keeping you from falling apart into an anxious puddle on the floor. So instead you spend the walk mentally screaming at yourself.

Namjoon opens an unmarked door and walks in, Yoongi follows directly behind him, pulling you along. You realize where you are as five more pairs of eyes meet yours.

They are all staring at you. You want to run and hide. You move behind Yoongi instead. He hasn’t let go of your hand, and every man in the room notices it.

Namjoon goes first, “We all need to talk.”

---

“So now do you admit it!” Jimin looks between Yoongi and you with a frown.

“He promised he wouldn’t touch her.” Jungkook whines to Namjoon.

“I didn’t promise. I said I wouldn’t...I changed my mind.”

You listen to the group argue glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder, you make eye contact with Jin. His eyes are still red, like he hasn’t stopped crying. For the first time since he grabbed you, you wanted to let go of Yoongi’s hand. Jin is the first to break away, he turns around, overwhelmed. Your face is still perfectly clear in his mind. Your words replay like whispers in his ear, ‘find me.’

You break away from Yoongi and address everyone.

“Uhh, I don’t know...” you start, “I don’t know how any of this works, or why it’s happening in the first place. But it is happening right? It happened to you too?” You look around at their faces, you look into Jimin’s eyes, “You saw me too, I was with you, you looked different, but deep down, it was you.” Jimin shifts uncomfortably under your eyes, he feels his chest tighten at your words, “and you saw me in her too.” You turn to J-Hope. “Right? Please tell me I’m-” you whisper the last part, “I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Hoseok answers you immediately, looking at you with a guilty expression.

Jungkook is nodding up and down at you rapidly.

“I was with you..” Jin walks over to you, but stops before he gets too close, “It felt so real...I was there with you on the cliff…” his eyes are so sad it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“How is this even possible…” Jimin speaks up, “I just don’t understand.” Jimin looks upset. He doesn’t want to believe any of this, none of it makes sense to him.

You can see the pain in their faces clearly. You feel like you’ve done something horrible. All you wanted to do was meet your idols and thank them for making your life better, but you ended up making their lives worse, and you don’t know how or why.

You rub your eyes before you start crying again, “I’m sorry. I should go home, it’s-" you check your phone screen. “One thirty in the morning?! I should leave!”

You jump as the room fills with protests from the men. They all quickly stop as soon as they start. You all stare at each other.

Namjoon takes charge. “How did you get here? We can have a driver take you home! We have to go to the hotel now, before you go home, we can finish talking there.” There is a finality to his words.

You stand there wide eyed, ‘hotel’?

---

So now you sit alone in the back of a large car with four managers. They have given you forms to fill out. A stack of papers full of NDAs. You felt like you were signing your life away. You wanted to tell them to take you home, but you stayed silent, you didn’t want to cause anymore trouble.

You follow the managers through the hotel into an elevator, to the top floor. They lead you into a massive penthouse and shut the door behind you. Jungkook is already inside waiting for you. He’s still in his fanmeet clothes, the other men were still showering and changing, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you again, for a chance to be with you alone.

You stand in the center of the room, unsure of what to do. Alone with the idol, your nerves skyrocket again.

Jungkook slowly makes his way closer to you. He stands in front of you, mirroring much like the way he stood in front of you at the fanmeet, his arms rock nervously by his sides. He bends down a little bit closer to you, and offers you a lopsided smile. “Hey beautiful.”

You shut your eyes, you can’t bear to look at him, you can’t accept that he just said that to you. His words make you ache inside.

The idol waits and gives you space, feeling shy. You can’t take it, his words throw your thoughts into a whirlwind, you want him back, you want what you had together again. You and the idol are worlds apart, but the Jungkook you had felt when your hands touched, he was your entire world.

“Please.” You beg him, offering your hand to him. You don’t know what you’re asking for, you don’t know what touching him will accomplish. You feel just so alone, exhausted from fighting against everything you’re feeling, Jungkook all but gave you permission to give in.

He smiles at you, places his palm against yours. It feels so good, so warm. He clasps his fingers around yours, reaches for your waist with his other hand and pulls you against him with one fell swoop. You already know why, you wrap your free arm around his neck and hold him to you. You can feel his heart beating wildly against you, you know he must feel yours as well. He rests his forehead on yours. It’s there again, that spark that explodes inside you, threatening to detonate all your sense of reason. Neither of you move, frozen in dance. He begins to hum a tune, a tune that pulls a smile from you-

The door opens and you jump to sit on the edge of the couch, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.

The rest of the group files into the large hotel room, they are all changed into more comfortable clothes. They look clean and refreshed, you realize just how tired and achy your body feels, you want to take a shower too.

Namjoon gives the youngest a hard look, “You didn’t change. You were in here the whole time? After we said we’d speak to her all together. How long were you alone with her? I told you-“

“I arrived only a couple minutes ago, nothing happened.” You interject, feeling the need to defend the youngest member.

Namjoon looks at you surprised. “Your Korean is good.”

You start to feel shy again, “Not really,” you speak in English instead.

“Okay, so let’s figure this out.” Namjoon starts, “Jungkook, do you want to go first?”

“Wait!” Taehyung interjects, “I thought-Joon don’t you want to hold her hand?”

You stiffen. Namjoon goes red, “I-first let’s gather information.”

Taehyung goes to stand. You recoil in your seat. You turn to Namjoon, pleading, “I can’t-I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Tae-”

“Says you, you already got to touch her-”

“And that’s why I’m telling you not to do it-”

“No one is touching her-”

“Joon, can you please talk some sense into them-”

“Can we please focus-”

“If you get anywhere near her I’m punching you in the face-”

“Can we all just calm down-”

“I’ll punch you in the face-”

“No one is punching anyone!”

“I thought we were supposed to be talking this out, not starting fights-“

“I knew this was a bad idea-”

“How am I supposed to talk it out when I don’t even know what it is-”

They all talk so fast and over each other you can barely understand anything they are saying, but you know it’s not anything good. This is getting nowhere. “I-I’m so tired, I should really go home. I need to shower. Today has been...a long day.”

“You can stay in one of the rooms! We have the whole floor-Ow!” Jimin hits Jungkook in the shoulder.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom.” You feel trapped again. You go to stand and you feel a hand tug on yours, it’s Yoongi. “Take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You should at least rest before we take you home.”

You bite your lip, looking around at the men. Jungkook looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“....Okay.”

“I’ll take her!” Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook speak in unison. They look between one another. Jin, stands up, “I’ll take her.”

You silently follow him out, hearing the boys start conversing again behind you. You stay behind him as he walks down the hall. Your face heats up again as you stare at the idol’s back. Is this really happening to you? You should leave.

Jin takes a keycard out of his pocket and opens the door, holding it open for you. You walk in, it’s smaller than the other room, still larger than any hotel room you’ve ever been in. Jin picks up the suitcase from the middle of the room.

“I’ll find another room to stay in.” You feel your chest tightening again at his words. “Rest now, y/n, and then we can get to the bottom of this in the morning,” he smiles down at you. His eyes linger on you, about to speak again but he decides it’s better to wait.

You tug at his hoodie as he goes to leave. “I…” you want to tell him not to leave you alone, “I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Oh, I can give you some of my clothes!” You bite your lip as you watch Jin set his suitcase on the bed and rummage through his clothes. He pulls out a collection of hoodies, shirts and pants, way too many clothes for one sleeping outfit.

“Thank you…” you walk with him to the door. He lingers there with you.

“This...this is a good thing.” You cock your head to the side, Jin pats your head, “I found you after all.” And with that he leaves you to your thoughts.

---

After showering you feel so much better. You stand in your towel, looking around at the room. 'This must be a dream,' you think. Your hands run over the stack of Jin’s clothes. This stack probably costs more than all the clothes you’ve ever bought in your entire life, you think. You sigh and pull on a shirt and sweatpants, and decide to throw on a hoodie too for good measure. You start to laugh as you look at yourself in the hotel room’s mirror. You’re sure you're going to wake up tomorrow and this will all be a wild dream. You’re about to settle into bed when you hear a knock.

Jungkook stands in the hallway. He stares at you with wide eyes before looking at his feet. “I brought you clothes to wear.”

“Oh,” you look at him shocked.

“I see someone already gave you theirs,” he looks crestfallen.

“Yeah, Jin took care of that.” You pull on the strings of the hoodie in embarrassment.

“Oh well for tomorrow morning, you can wear this.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Jin gave you enough clothes to cover an entire week. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“Okay...good.”

You hold your breath. You want to keep talking to him. “Your English is good, you sound like an American now.”

Jungkook smiles, too shy to meet your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You can speak in Korean too, I understand. I am not that good at speaking it, but I guess now is the best time to practice.” You laugh. Jungkook nods at you, his smile growing wider.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” He winks at you. You feel your heart tighten at his words.

“Jungkook!” He turns back around. “Um, sweet dreams.”

Jungkook looks you over. “Can I?”

“Huh?” He steps closer to you, you stay still. He reaches his arms out and wraps them around you in a hug. His head rests on the top of your head as he holds you close to him. It feels like you remember, his embrace feels the same. You grip onto the material of his long sleeve shirt. He holds you closer. All you can smell and feel is Jungkook.

Jungkook holds you close to him. He doesn’t know how to feel. His heart aches in anguish over the thought of losing you again. He doesn’t want to let you go.

In his arms you feel so safe, you relax against him. A wave of sleepiness crashes over you. Jungkook helps you into bed.

“I’ll come get you in the morning.” He runs his hands over your forehead. The intimate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you're too tired to react. Your heart is full. Is this what true love feels like?

---

You stretch in your bed. Your muscles ache, you feel good after a night's rest. You snuggle into your pillow, it’s so fluffy and soft, softer than you’re used to, you pull your covers closer to you. You notice the large sleeves of your hoodie, and your sleepiness drains away. It’s not your bed, and that’s not your hoodie. You sit up, looking around the unfamiliar room, you feel like you’ve been doused with cold water. Everything from the night before comes back to you. You pull the covers over your head, so much for a good morning.

You grab your phone. You have a text message: ‘call me when you get home <3’ and two missed calls. You bury your head into the pillows. You're about to call back when there is a knock at the door.

“One minute!” You change into Jungkook’s clothes, a black long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you decide to change your pants for one of Jin’s joggers.

“Hey!” You expected Jungkook to greet you, this was not who you expected.

"Hello." The deep voiced singer stands in front of you. You stare back at him. He walks into your room and takes a seat on the bed. You close the door behind you and walk over to Taehyung.

“I’m so sorry about last night! I would have never touched you without your permission. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m so sorry. I just-I just needed to find out. I have to. I know you’re scared, I’m scared too...Jungkook and I talked last night and he told me what happened, he said it was more than just memories, it’s like...an awakening. I mean, that’s so cool. If we had another life together, wouldn’t you want to know? Please y/n, I feel like I’m going crazy not knowing-“

“Speak slower please, I’m still a beginner!” You laugh.

“Sorry! Please y/n, please. Before the others wake up.”

You sigh, sitting next to him. “I think Jungkook is leaving out very important information...”

You continue, “We not only lived, we died.” You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around you, “I’ve lived and I’ve died 5 times now. It’s horrible, it’s heartbreaking, it’s not something you can just forget.”

Taehyung sits quietly. “Do you regret it?”

You bite your lip. Do you regret it? You feel it still, the warmth of their love for you. The way they loved you, the way you loved them. Would you give that memory up? Even the lingering feelings in your body are stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your lifetime. Could you let it go now that you know what you’re missing?

Taehyung presses, “Jungkook says he's happy it happened.”

You inhale sharply. You have to make him see. “Jungkook died in my arms. He died after we tried so hard to run away together.” Taehyung eyes widen. “He was murdered...” You shudder, Taehyung stays silent. “Is that the kind of ‘awakening’ you want?”

He raises a hand to his mouth, stroking his chin. “He didn’t tell me about that...” And then he says something that makes your heart stop. “And he still said he's happy it happened, that he doesn't want to forget about you y/n.”

“Please, I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

---

Uh-oh the boys don’t want to let you go now! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it! It’s kind of cool, all the different worlds. I neverrrr thought I’d write an actiony spy enemies to lovers AU ever, trust. I had to get a lot of help with all the specific terminology, like me - guns - what - totally clueless, I just hope I did the story justice.

Hopefully this tides you over for awhile because we have a problem...I don’t remember anything about Tae’s handshake! Cries. I know what’s supposed to happen, but I also have no idea what happens lol. I know movie, but not movie name, if you get what I’m saying. Please bestow some patience on me for the next chapter. Asks are always open, maybe you can give me some inspiration! <3

#bts soulmate au #bts fantasy au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #bts enemies to lovers #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst

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