#if you’re triggered by the text please tell me what to tag
bananahkim · 14 days ago
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Shit she probably heard while growing up
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r-indou · a month ago
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CHARACTER(S) ken ryuguji baji keisuke ran haitani rindou haitani takemichi hanagaki
CONTAINS fem!reader + fingering + exhibition + face fucking + creampie + readers a cheerleader & the principal’s daughter + semi public sex: school parking lot + baji being a mommas boy & an asshole </3 + masturbating (m) + degrading + baji calls you a bitch + takemichi being a perv <//3 + implied non-con recording + i uh-south & wakasa being fucking teachers💀 + humiliation + orgy + word count: 1.5k +
AUTHORS NOTE everyone’s aged up
TAGGING @kineren @sanosexual :,)
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+ “think it’s cute suckin’ that stupid lollipop like that in front of me? laughin’ all loud with your dumbass friends,”
+ all you did was stare at him for a quick moment from the back of the class while sucking on your sweet cherry flavored candy! how were you supposed to know ken would start spamming you with texts in the middle of your teachers lesson, telling you to lie and ask to use the bathroom asap or else you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week straight.
+ “you wanna suck on a damn lollipop? don’t worry, i’ll give ya somethin’ to suck on, somethin’ much better,”
+ draken takes his heavy cock between his hands, slapping it against your face a few times, your tongue lolling out as you feel yourself become a puddle beneath you.
+ he grabs hold of the back of your head, his thick length entering your salvated mouth, jaw suffering as you try to take his massive size.
+ with his balls resting against your chin, you lift up your hand to hold the rest of his shaft, attempting to stroke him as you gag every time he brushes the back of your throat with his tip.
+ kens groans grow louder every time you moan around his cock, the vibrations triggering his orgasm.
+ the words ‘take it take it’ are being repeated off his tongue as he continues to fuck your wet mouth while filling your throat up with his warm seed. it’s too much for you to take in all at once, your tears mixing in with the cum that trickled down from the corners of your lips.
+ “actin’ like a cockhungry slut in class. swallow every drop and show me,”
+ “thought you were a smart girl. but i got an A- because of you when i said i wanted an A+. shit got my mom pissed off,”
+ you should be fucking lucky baji brought you to that one staircase in your campus that’s always ignored and empty to fuck your brains out before lunchtime.
+ with every punishingly hard thrust he pounds into you has you bumping forward, hitting your stomach on the metal railing you held onto for support, his swollen tip hammering your sweet spot repeatedly.
+ “b-baji please! ‘wanna cum so bad… please lemme!”
+ heavy tears welled up into your glossy eyes as you stutter out, begging for permission to cum with a dazy head.
+ “you’re funny if you think i’m lettin’ you cum. but you know- fuck- you know what…your projects lookin’ real nice, think it’s missin’ a little something,”
+ gasping at those familiar words, you feel a low groan escape bajis parted lips while he pulls his throbbing cock out of your hole. with a puzzled expression drawn on your burning face, you look behind your shoulder to see keisuke swiftly jerking himself over your history project you wasted your hard time and sweat on for the last three weeks– milky ribbons of his seed splattering all over it as he chuckles at his cruel action.
+ “have fun presenting this shit in front of the class, bitch. what excuse are ya gonna give this time, huh?”
+ “mr. terano! can i please use the restroom? it’s an emergency,”
+ sure, call it an emergency, ‘michi. an emergency to jack off in a stall in the boys restroom to a photo he himself snapped of you bent over picking up his pencil that accidentally kept falling in the direction of your desk.
+ and to his luck, the third floor bathroom’s all empty, so he can make as much noise as he wants.
+ shorts distorted at his ankles, his precum stained boxers sit low at his hips as he spits into his palm before giving his hard cock clumsy strokes until he quickens his pace.
+ phone in one hand, he’s zooming in into the picture to where your ass was– getting a clearer look at your cute lace panties you wore under your teasingly low school skirt to which he used his poor imagination to visualize them off your body.
+ soft sets of whines and moans echo through the empty bathroom, blending in with the wettish sounds of him fisting his length, sweat forging onto his forehead as he clutches his free hand around his phone before banging the plastic toilet paper dispenser beside him, bottom lip tucking in between his teeth to remain himself from being so vocal.
+ ‘michis face grows hotter, squeezing himself harder with his eyes shut tight, picturing it’s your tight cunt clenching around him and giving him this sinning pleasure.
+ your names tripping off his tongue a million times until he starts babbling nonsense as he shoots his load onto the stalls door– cluttered spatters of his cum layering the flat surface wishing it was your pretty face he got to paint.
+ “princess couldn’t wait till after the game, huh? jus’ had to get fucked before she goes out there to cheer,”
+ the slippery surface of rindous cars hood had your fingers gliding all over it, leaving visible patterns of your fingerprint smudges along the bonnet.
+ you two should be ashamed of yourselves… fucking out in the open air at your high schools parking lot for anyone to see. so what if this was the staff side of the parking? doesn’t make things better. at all, actually.
+ “g-god please rin… s-slow down, gonna cum!”
+ rindou’s grunting at the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your tight hole, moaning out numerous curses breathily, his nails digging into the exposed skin of your hips, and your cunt sucking him in so well, almost like you were made just for him.
+ he knew he hit your sweet spot once he heard that porn-worthy moan of yours you do every time his sensitive tip gazes your cervix.
+“oi! shut up– you’re fuckin’ loud. gonna get us caught, but you want that don’t ya. want everyone to see
+ with a few more strained moans that pull from your throat, you’re creaming a mess all around him, eyes hitting the back of your head as you pant, feeling you your thighs burn and wobble.
+ and in a matter of seconds, your velvety walls are soon filled up nice and full with his thick cum, seeping out to drip down your inner thighs.
+ “i’ll be taking these panties for later. so get goin’, hope your little pussy starts leaking while you’re out there cheerin’ and shit for everyone to see.”
+ “ay, mr. imaushi! y/n here wants to read this page, let her will ya?”
+ eyes gaping out in a flash, your shaky hand reaches down to rans wrist, striving to pull his fingers that were practically splitting your hole open out of you, attempting to squeeze your thighs together.
+ but rans fast– his free hand hitting yours away with a quick smack as he holds in a wicked laugh.
+ all you do is stare blankly at the words from your textbook that was set in front of you, praying for something inconvinent to happen so your teacher can move his attention from you. do you know which paragraph you're supposed to be on? are you on the right page? is this even the right fucking textbook?
+ “something the matter, y/n? can you not find the page we’re on?”
+ rans pace quickens purposely to see you struggling and embarrassed, his long fingers curving inside your convulsing cunt, fucking you with his digits as the tapping of your feet began to speed up, fighting the urge not to grind your lower bottom against them.
+ “yeah, y/n, what’s wrong? looks like you’re on the right page. ‘think you might need a pair of glasses or something,”
+ your face was on fire, feeling every students stares fixed on the two of you. you’re pinching rans thigh initiating him to quit it, but he kicks your foot with small force before scooting in closer to his desk with a stupid smirk curved up onto his lips.
+ ran had you so far on edge, all you could do was stutter under your breath and ignore making any eye contact with your teacher, who’s standing in front of you letting out a deep disappointed sigh.
+ “okay-no need to be rude, ran. and y/n, stay after class for me, alright? your recent behaviors have been very concerning.”
+ and after your teacher walks off and your classmates get over staring at you two, rans savage laugh rings through your ears, turning your head quickly to see move his free hand lifting up to his face, bringing it over his thin lips as his index and middle finger form in a ‘V’ shape before sticking out his tongue and licking the air in a lewd manner– keeping that damn smirk plastered on his face.
+ “spread her open, ‘michi. lemme get a good look at that pussy,”
+ takemichi does as draken says, pulling your frail legs up and spreading them far apart with your knees poking your chest, your back staying plunged against his firm torso. draken gets closer to your fuck out state, bringing his phone closer to capture the sinning view of your oozing cunt– all the mixtures of their loads dripping down to stain the bedsheets.
+ “what’da guys think the principle will say if we show this at tomorrow’s assembly? show the whole school how his precious daughter gets her cute uniform dirty and takes seven cocks in one night,”
+ they’re foul laughs crowd your bedroom as you sniff up your runny nose, a sulky pout pulling on your pretty face before you’re turning your head away from the phone.
+ “shiiit, sounds like a great idea, ran. n’ let her tell everyone how much she loves whoring herself out, too.”
+ ‘michi drops your legs before fixing his posture to sit both of you up straight, his fingers playing around with your precious folds before laying harsh slaps on your puffy clit.
+ “repeat after me, baby. say, ‘daddy raised a big’ol slut who likes to whore her cunt out’ and how ‘bout you squeeze your tits for ‘em- yeah, just like that,”
+ draken hovered over you, his phone now inches away from your hapless face, filming the absolute wreck that you were before you repeat bajis words to his phone.
+ “m-my daddy raised a big’ol slut..who likes to whore her cunt out”
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mizunetzu · 10 months ago
omg i’m so excited i like,, spam read all of your writing and now i can request,,, anyway, could i request maybe something similar to your Tanaka x femboy reader, but with Oikawa? like he mistakes him for a girl and maybe flirts with the reader a little bit and the reader i just like ,,”you do,, you do realize i am a man correct” and hijinks ensue?? sorry if this is too vague i suck at describing things. lotsa love your writing is literally my favorite 💕
Omg wait Oikawa??? And femboy reader??? Hijinks???? Take me now—
Oikawa x reader - Oikawa Tooru Goes Both Ways
⚠️warnings - reader is mistaken and referred to unintentionally as a girl. I assure you, this is a male reader. Femboy reader, if that triggers you.
Pronouns - male, he/him
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Oikawa couldn’t help but stare as a...rather cute girl stepped into the gym.
“Oi! Shittykawa! Focus!” Iwaizumi was about to hurl a volleyball at Oikawa’s head when he caught sight of where he was staring. He looked from the newcomer, back to Oikawa’s eyes tracing their form up and down.
“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa held his breath as he pointed subtly. “Who is that?”
Iwaizumi looked over back to the intruder. Sure enough, some girl with (h/c) styled hair stood at the foot of the door awkwardly. They weren’t sporting the school uniform, instead wearing a skirt with a cafe apron tied around their waist. Oikawa recognized the cute logo on the somewhat dirty apron as the coffee shop he’d visit on days he wasn’t particularly busy.
All in all, this stranger was incredibly attractive.
Eventually, coach Irihata emerged from the storage closet, and motioned the stranger over. The stranger perked up, pulled out a slightly-wrinkled paper from their back, and timpered off into the office.
Oikawa sighed dreamily. “Iwa-chan...is this what I think it is? Are we fiiiiiinally getting a cute girl manager to manage our team?!”
He draped himself over Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “Aaaaah~! I’m so happy~! And it’s such a cutie too!”
“Get off me, dumbass. You have like...millions of girls throwing their panties at you, literally all that look like her. And you go for the one who decides to join our club?”
Oikawa huffed. “What’s so wrong about that! She’s cute! And she looked so shy standing there...aaaah, I’m swooning just thinking about wrapping her up in my arms-!”
“I’m saying,” Iwaizumi bonked Oikawa on the head. “If you manage to get with her, then break her heart, or at the very least make her uncomfortable, she’ll have to see your annoying face all day at practice, and then she won’t wanna be manager anymore! Because she has to see you!”
Iwaizumi pinched at Oikawa’s scalp. “I want a cute girl manager and to have them actually stay! And who knows? We get brownie points if it’s not another one of your fangirls trying to get in your pants by joining the club!”
“Ow! Mean Iwa-chan, bad!”
“I’m not a damn Pokémon-!” Iwaizumi was about to kick Oikawa in the back, before letting himself simmer down and take a deep breath. He lowered his legs, and turned towards the office door. “...I’m gonna go look at that girl’s application and see what class she’s in. Maybe we can, I dunno, make her a welcome basket of fruit or some corny shit like that.”
“Let me come with you-!”
“No! You’ll just scare her away, and you have cleaning duty! All you need to do is take down the net, and I’ll meet you outside when I’m done. If you be good, I’ll tell you her name.”
Oikawa thought about it for a second.
He disappeared to take down the net from the poles. Iwaizumi sighed, and walked towards the door. They were the only two left in the gym, as they were in charge of cleanup for the day, so no one else but him should be in the office. Well, minus the new girl and coach Irihata.
Iwaizumi slid open the door. “Yo.” He greeted. He looked around the room, only finding coach Irihata.
“...Didn’t someone come in here with you with an application form?”
Coach Irihata chuckled. “Oh, yeah,”
“He just wanted to drop in his member application before his part-time job made him go back to work.”
Iwaizumi froze.
“Yeah, he wanted to join the club as a (Position name). He’s not confident about his jumping or spiking abilities, but he claims to be really dang good at digging and receives.”
The two looked at eachother in silence. Wasn’t she-well, he—wearing a skirt? Now that he thought about it, everything about him looked like...well...a him, minus the skirt. Iwaizumi dashed to the table and picked up the application resting there peacefully.
‘(L/n) (Y/n) - 2nd year, class 4’
‘Position - (Position name)’
Iwaizumi scanned the page. He wanted to doubt this was the ‘cute manager’ they laid their eyes on, but they even had a school photo clipped onto the corner of the paper. Sure enough, that was him. His eyes eventually landed on something printed on the middle of the page.
‘Gender - male’
That proved it. The ‘cute girl manager’ Oikawa was just fawning over turned out to be a guy. And their future teammate, no less. Iwaizumi wanted to laugh in Oikawa’s face.
“Is there something wrong, Iwaizumi-kun?”
“Pfft-no! N-no, sirrrrr....” Iwaizumi set the paper down and walked out the the room, doing his best to keep in his snickers.
Oikawa jogged up to him excitedly once he stepped out of the gym. “So? Did ya find out her name? Her class? Is she our manager?”
Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say something, before letting his mouth clamp shut.
“Nah, coach said I couldn’t see it.”
He watched as Oikawa deflated, trudging his way over to the club room to change and go home. Iwaizumi did his best not to bust out laughing on the spot.
This should be fun.
“No, you stalker.”
“But Iwa-chaaaaaan!” Oikawa whined. “Why not?! Practice ended early, and we could use some coffee! Come buy coffee with me!”
“You just wanna use me as an excuse to see that bo-that girl who came into our club yesterday, idiot! That’s stalking! You’re acting like your little fangirls!”
Oikawa pouted, and Iwaizumi prayed he didn’t catch him on his little slip-up. He turned around, walking off out of school gates. Oikawa dejectedly trailed behind him.
“I’m going home. Don’t bother me if it’s about that manager again—“
Just then, a text tone pinged from Iwaizumi’s pocket. He stopped mid-sentence, fishing out his phone and opening his messaging app.
‘Mom - no ones going to be home because we have to go out real quick. The house is locked, and you left your spare keys with me again. Go out and have fun with Tooru-kun before I come back!’
Iwaizumi deadpanned. Oikawa had his chin resting on his shoulder, with a shit-eating grin Iwaizumi didn’t even have to look at to know was there.
“Yeah, Iwa-chan. Listen to Mrs. Aina and hang out with Tooru-kun for a bit. We can go to the cafe and hang out like your she said, Iwa-chan~”
Iwaizumi pushed past Oikawa bitterly. “Don’t... fuckin’... call my mom by her name... dumbass... stalker... Shittykawa...” he grumbled as he trudged his way in the direction to the cafe. Oikawa let out a small “Yay~!”
Hiding behind the big, laminated menus the cafe provided, Oikawa kept glancing over to the cashier-area to try and find (Y/n). Iwaizumi deadpanned, sitting back in his chair nonchalantly.
“You’re acting stupid.”
“I’m being sneaky.”
“You look more suspicious than if you were to act like yourself.”
“As if you would know!” Oikawa whisper-yelled to Iwaizumi, momentarily letting his menu fall flat. “I’m trying not to get caught, unlike one of us-!”
Oikawa and Iwaizumi froze. Oikawa rigidly turned to the voice, while Iwaizumi almost fell back in his seat.
There stood the boy—well, the ‘girl’, in his work apron, this time, up close. Oikawa could see the detail in his eyes, the way a few of his hairs fell onto his face and stuck because of the small layer of sweat on his forehead, even taking in the small kitty hair clip resting in his hair.
“Hu...huaai...” Oikawa breathed out. Iwaizumi bit his lip. If he started laughing now, Oikawa would tell his mom he was bullying him again.
“Hello! I was wondering if I could get you two anything to drink! No worries if you aren’t ready to order yet.”
His voice had a soft tamber to it, a warm, welcoming aura that fit the vibe of the cafe perfectly. Iwaizumi could see how Oikawa, and probably other people, could mistake him for a girl. Especially with the way he dressed and carried himself as evident to yesterday’s practice.
Iwaizumi tilted the menu infront of him up a bit. “I’ll get a small black coffee. Whabout you, Oikawa?”
When he got no response, other than the hum of acknowledgment from (Y/n), Iwaizumi looked up. Oikawa was staring dumbly at (Y/n) again, and seconds later (Y/n) was caught under his gaze. He stared back awkwardly, waiting for Oikawa to say something or at least order something, until he suddenly jolted up in pain.
Iwaizumi dug his heel deeper into Oikawa’s foot. “Say something, dumbass! Stop staring!” He hissed, covering his mouth from (Y/n) in petty attempts to mask their conversation.
“Ow! Ow! I’ll get a peppermint tea please-! Stop it!”
(Y/n) scribbled down Oikawa’s order, smiling patiently as he did. Iwaizumi removed his foot. There was a beat of silence, until Oikawa smoothly rested his chin on his hand.
“Soooo, (L/n) (Y/n)-chan, is it?” Oikawa said, as he peered at (Y/n’s) name tag. “Pretty masculine name for a cute girl like you~”
Iwaizumi choked on his spit. (Y/n) tilted his head to the side, looking up from his notepad to peer back at Oikawa.
“What...did you say?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head cutely. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I think (Y/n) is a cute name~”
Iwaizumi didn’t know if he wanted to die from laughter or embarrassment. He was going to pop a vein trying to keep in his cackles.
“Ah. It’s the clothes, isn’t it?” (Y/n) mused. He took a step back, looking at his rather-feminine clothing choices for the day. “I understand why. I get that a lot.”
“...What does your clothes have to do with your name?” It was Oikawa’s turn to sound confused. Iwaizumi let out a few haggard, stifled snickers at his dense expression. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow.
“You...” He pointed at himself with his pen. “You do realize I’m a man, correct?”
Oikawa choked. His eyes widened as his smile cracked a bit. Iwaizumi had to hide his face in his jacket to prevent himself from bursting out into hackles. Oikawa gave a nervous smile.
“Aha...haha...funny joke..”
“I’m not joking, though...” (Y/n) smirked. He wouldn’t deny that seeing the faces of people flirting with him after he told them he had a dick was a guilty pleasure. “Want proof?”
(Y/n) grasped Oikawa’s wrist, tugging it forcefully, and moving his apron to the side. He brought it down closer to his groin until Oikawa sputtered and flailed on the table.
“No! I-I believe you! I-I can see it from here—I don’t need to touch it-!” Oikawa shrieked. Iwaizumi clutched his stomach from laughing too hard, already given up on keeping it in. He snorted loudly, choked on that snort, and erupted into a series of cough-laughs.
By the time Iwaizumi’s laugh turned into the kind where no noise came out-but it hurt in your stomach anyways—Oikawa was laying his head on the table, embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled along.
“You knew, Iwa-chan! You knew!” Oikawa hissed, holding his poor, abused hand. “You set me up for failure!”
“You did that to yourself.” Iwaizumi said between breaths. “He’s actually gonna start attending practice as a (position name) starting next week. We don’t have a manager after all.”
“And you got my hopes up for what?!” Oikawa cried out, making Iwaizumi snort again. (Y/n) raised his eyebrows.
“Oikawa thought that when you came to drop your registration form in yesterday, that you were signing up to be a manager since he thought you were a girl. I saw your form though, so I knew but this guy here didn’t.”
Iwaizumi nudged at Oikawa, who was hiding his face in his hands. “You better be nice to him, though. He’s your new captain starting next week.”
“Ah! How fun! Having my new playboy captain flirt with me before I even join the club. ” (Y/n) mumbled, as he scribbled down something else in his notepad. Iwaizumi heckled when Oikawa whined with his head down.
He didn’t raise his head back up until a slip of paper was placed gently on top of his head. He heard a “I’ll go get your drink ready.” From (Y/n), before he looked up and noticed he was gone. He caught the slip of paper falling off his head as he sat up.
“What’s that?” Iwaizumi said lazily. Oikawa was staring giddily at the paper. He turned the paper around smugly, holding it up for Iwaizumi to read.
‘Call me. If you’re feeling fruity, that is. (xxx)-xxx-xxxx. -‘(Y/n)-chan’’
Iwaizumi stared at the neat handwriting, then back at Oikawa’s smug face.
“...Were you not just listening? He just tried to make you touch his dick? He’s a dude?”
“Eh. Cute girl, cute boy, he’s still cute~” Oikawa dreamily sighed as he watched (Y/n) make his tea behind the counter. “I’d still hit it till he breaks~”
“Says you.”
Oikawa earned a sharp thunk to the head.
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hotdogwillex · 8 months ago
come back to me // i.l.
masterlist | taglist
your best friend moves to a different country and leaves you behind. when he comes back, what happens then? (3.6k words)
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“You’re moving… to Paris?”
You stood in disbelief, your brain spinning at a million miles a minute as you tried to process the words coming out of the boy’s mouth. Isaac Lahey, your best friend since middle school, your next door neighbor, was telling you that he was moving to France. With his dead ex girlfriend’s father. Tomorrow.
Allison’s funeral hadn’t been over for more than an hour, he was still in his suit, and he was already making plans to leave.
“Why?” Your voice wavered, and you were sure the heartbreak was plain on your face.
Isaac had been your best friend for years. You had grown up next door to him, and when things got to be too much he would sneak up to your window. He never told you where the bruises or mild frostbite came from, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. You stayed silent and protected him from his father as best you could without taking direct action.
Everything had changed last year, when Isaac took the bite from Derek. He had shown up on your doorstep after the first full moon with yellow eyes and sharp claws, shaking like a scared puppy. Of course, you had accepted a while ago that you would stick with Isaac through anything. All of a sudden, you were thrown into the world of the supernatural, having to deal with kanimas, druids, and (scariest of all) Derek Hale.
When Derek took in Isaac, you tagged along, inviting yourself to the pack. Derek protested at first, but it soon became clear that wherever Isaac went, you would follow. And, of course, since dealing with one werewolf pack wasn’t enough, you were then introduced to Scott McCall and his pack.
And then Isaac started following Allison around, leaving you in the dust with strange new friends who weren’t sure what to make of you. Your sole purpose was to be there for Isaac, but all of a sudden he didn’t need you anymore. By that point, Scott and Stiles had already adopted you, so it seemed like you were stuck with them, having to watch Isaac and Allison moon over each other.
You had been in love with Isaac for years, but watching him with another girl was the only thing that made you realize it, and of course, you were far too late. He was head over heels for Allison, something that had been a slap in the face for you to realize when he knowingly got himself electrocuted for her.
You had gone to see him in the hospital, only to find Allison asleep next to his bed. You left that night without seeing him, a strange mix of loneliness and resentment in your chest. It was hard for you to dislike Allison: perfect, brave, Allison Argent who was adored by everyone even though she had a very violent (although short lived) “I want to kill everyone” phase. Everyone loved Allison, and now Isaac did too.
And then she died in Scott’s arms after sacrificing herself to take down the nogitsune. It was a random Thursday, and all of your lives had suddenly been changed forever, because Allison was dead.
Her funeral had happened that weekend, and here you were, standing in your driveway while Isaac was breaking your heart.
“There’s nothing left for me here,” he was saying, awkwardly stepping back. There was a sleek black car waiting on the street, no doubt Argent waiting to whisk him off to the airport.
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of your lungs. “What about Scott and Derek?” you asked, desperately trying to convince him to stay. “What about me?”
“That’s not enough anymore,” he replied simply, as if he had planned out this exact scenario in his head and practiced what to say.
“I’m not enough for you?” your voice wavered again and you cursed yourself for being unable to stop your eyes from watering.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N,” Isaac sighed, nervously glancing back at the car waiting for him.
“No, it’s not,” you were angry now, at Isaac, and Argent, and even a little bit at Allison. “It’s about you, Isaac. Just like everything else in my life for the past two years.”
“I never asked you to do any of that.”
“You didn’t have to!” your eyes were wide as you searched his face for any trace of emotion, but his features were blank. “I thought you knew that we were in this together. Always.”
“Well, not anymore,” he stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m freeing you of your burden. You don’t have to babysit me anymore,” he spat the words out like venom, turning around and heading to the car.
“Fine, Isaac! Leave!” you yelled at his back. “That’s what you’re good at anyway!”
He climbed into the car without looking back and Argent sped off, leaving you standing pathetically in your driveway, tears rolling down your cheeks. You watched until the car was nothing but a speck in the distance before you headed inside, collapsing on your bed. As you laid there, you slowly realized that you were still in the black dress you had worn to Allison’s funeral.
“Liam!” you yelled after the freshman, sprinting after him through the woods. The lights and music of Lydia’s party flash in the distance as you run from the house, your human stamina nothing against the werewolf speed of Liam and Scott.
By the time you catch up to them, Liam has gained on Scott, and the two are fighting in a blur of claws and fangs. You cursed under your breath, regretting every decision you’ve made that brought you here. As if teenage boys weren’t bad enough, now they had supernatural powers.
“Liam!” you screamed as loud as you could, hoping to draw him away from Scott long enough that the other boy could restrain him. Liam’s head shot up, focusing on you with yellow eyes.
“You suck at lacrosse!” you yell, attempting to trigger his anger issues. If he attacked you, Scott would be clear.
Apparently, your lame insult was enough to provoke him, and Liam abandoned Scott to jump at you full force, claws outstretched. You shut your eyes tightly and willed Scott to hurry up as Liam made impact with you, claws tearing at your collarbone. You reached up and gripped the new werewolf’s shoulders, keeping his fangs from tearing open your throat.
Your head slammed against the ground as his claws strike your face, slicing your cheek. In the distance, you saw Scott finally get up, heading to your rescue. In the meantime, you spent all your energy focusing on keeping Liam away from any of your major arteries.
All of a sudden, there was a flashing light that burned your eyes and sent Liam into a tailspin. He howled in pain, and in an instant he was ripped off of you. The beta scrambled into the woods, and you blinked the residual flash out of your vision in order to focus on the boy standing over you.
“Scott?” you groaned, reaching for the boy’s outstretched hand.
“Hey, Y/N,” the voice made your blood run cold. You knew that voice, but had never expected to hear it again. You pushed yourself up and scrambled backwards, out of his reach.
“Not happy to see me?” your savior tilts his head with a soft smile.
“What are you doing here?” Scott’s voice pulled you out of your stupor, and you followed his line of vision to see Chris Argent standing with a bow in his hand.
“I got your text,” he smirked.
Scott’s jaw dropped, and then dropped even further when he saw who had rescued you from Liam. He moved quickly, looping an arm around your waist and helping you stand. You leaned against him, still trying to put as much distance between you and the other boy. Unfortunately for you, Liam had slammed your head against the ground with werewolf strength, so you stumbled as you tried to stand.
“Y/N, you’re hurt,” the softness in your savior’s voice filled you with a kind of anger you hadn’t felt in a long time. He reached his hand out again, attempting to support your other side. You slapped away his hand before it could get closer to you, clinging to Scott.
“I’m fine,” you protested, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground.
“Y/N, look at me,” he begged, stepping closer. You couldn’t help but recoil into Scott as the other boy moved into your space. “Please.”
You swallowed hard and finally let yourself look at him properly. Your eyes scanned the forest floor until they found his shoes, bright white and clearly new. You took in his jeans, dark blue and free of tears, and his shirt, a plain gray long sleeve. He never did know how to dress.
You braced yourself and finally looked at his face, meeting his bright blue eyes that were full of worry. His jawline was still strong and defined, but his skin had a healthier glow to it now. His blonde curls had grown longer, hanging below his ears.
“Hey, Isaac,” Scott smiled.
You clenched your jaw and patted Scott’s shoulder. “Can we get Liam so we can go home please? Or, actually, I might need to visit Deaton first.”
“Yeah,” Scott reluctantly let go of you. “Can you help her?” he asked Isaac.
“No!” you stepped backwards suddenly, stumbling into a tree, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs again. “I’m fine, see?”
“Stay right there until I get back,” Scott instructed, and then turned to Argent. “Make sure she doesn’t run away?”
Argent nodded, and then Scott was gone, headed in the direction of Liam’s faint growls.
“Here, kid,” Argent sighed, pulling out a first aid kit. “Let me clean you up a bit.”
You nodded, and let yourself sit on the forest floor, tilting your head up so Argent could wipe off the dirt and blood.
“What were you thinking, taking on a new werewolf like that?” Argent shook his head. “He could’ve killed you.”
“Yeah, well, if he killed me then he wouldn’t kill Scott,” you grumbled. “Besides, I was just distracting him so Scott could get an advantage.”
“Some distraction,” he sighed again, tending to the deep slashes on your chest.
“Y/N, you could’ve been killed,” Isaac cut in. “You can’t put yourself in danger like that.”
“Since when are you in a position to tell me what I can and can’t do?” you spat out, wincing as Argent applied hydrogen peroxide to your wounds.
Isaac reached your side in an instant, reaching for your hand. You pulled back before he could touch you, knocking against a low branch.
“I think it’s best if you keep your distance for now, kid,” Argent spoke kindly, something you had never heard from him before, especially when talking about you.
Isaac moved back, his eyes full of hurt. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were hurting his feelings.
“Y/N?” this time it was Liam calling your name, following Scott back to the group. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, buddy, I’m okay,” your voice softened at the sight of the beta rushing to your side, his eyes frantic as they took in your injuries.
“I did that to you?” Liam gasped, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you took his hand. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“You need stitches,” Argent replied gruffly.
“Okay, I’m mostly fine,” you managed a laugh and reached out to wipe a tear away from Liam’s cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” Liam sniffled, grasping your hand tightly.
“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “But if you want to do me a favor, I would really like to go home.”
Liam nodded and helped you stand, Scott rushing to support your other side.
“Y/N, let me help you,” Isaac spoke up, the sound of his voice reopening the deep wound in your heart.
When you said nothing, Scott turned back to him. “Sorry, man.”
Scott and Liam deposited you in Stiles’ Jeep and went back to find the rest of your friends. By the time they came back, you were fast asleep in the passenger seat.
“So,” Stiles leaned against your locker. “Isaac is back.”
“That’s cool!”
“What, uh, what happened?” you glared at him, but he pressed on. “Like, when he left. Did he say bye to you? Why are you so mad at him?”
“He came to my house less than an hour after Allison’s funeral and told me that I wasn’t enough for him anymore, and that he was leaving,” you gave him the long story short, not wanting to rehash the conversation.
“Ouch,” Stiles opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off by the locker next to yours swinging open.
“Hey!” it was Isaac, smiling brightly. “Chris re-enrolled me here! And looks like I got the locker right next to yours, Y/N.”
Stiles let out a low whistle. “Well, uh, I’ll leave you to it.”
As he moved to walk away, you gripped his wrist. “Actually, Stiles and I have first period together! Let’s go, Sti.”
“We do?” Stiles’ brow furrowed, and you dug your nails into his wrist. “Ow - I mean, yeah we do! Let’s go, don’t want to be late!”
The rest of the school day was miserable. Isaac had almost all of his classes with you, and insisted on sitting as close as possible to you. He had even started following you in the hallway. It got so bad that you ducked into an empty classroom between periods to get some breathing room.
“L/N! What the hell are you doing in here? This is my break period,” Coach Finstock glared at you.
“Uh, hiding?” you winced.
“Oh,” he squinted at you for a moment, and then shrugged. “As long as you don’t bother me, you can stay as long as you want. Those friends of yours are hooligans, you deserve a break.”
You managed the rest of the day just fine, and decided to hide with Coach during lunch again, ignoring the texts from Lydia and Scott asking where you were. After Isaac left, you were a mess. You didn’t want to interact with any of the pack because they reminded you of him, so you kept to yourself, ignoring anyone who attempted to contact you. This lasted a few weeks until Lydia had showed up at your door, saying that just because Isaac had left you didn’t mean the rest of them did. Knowing Lydia, that also meant that she missed you, so you reintegrated yourself into the pack.
Scott and Stiles stuck to your side and you, Lydia, Kira, and Malia formed a sort of sisterhood. Allison’s loss was still felt every day, but the six of you rallied around each other, becoming an unbreakable friend group. Except now that Isaac had rejoined, you wanted to stay as far away as possible.
“Y/N?” Isaac’s voice came from the doorway.
“Lahey?” Coach exclaimed. “Didn’t you move to Germany?”
“France, Coach, and I’m back now,” Isaac smiled. “I was in your class this morning.”
“Huh,” Coach sat back, clearly still confused.
“Y/N, can we talk?” Isaac crossed the room to sit in front of you.
“What is there to say?” you rolled your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “When I left -”
“Yeah, Isaac. You left,” you stood, gathering your things. “I wasn’t enough for you, remember?”
You walked out of the classroom, leaving a stunned Isaac and an even more confused Coach.
The next few days were almost as bad. Isaac had promised to stay out of your way until you were ready to be around him, and your whole friend group was walking on eggshells around you, careful not to bring him up. He had also started leaving notes in your locker, but you never read them.
A week had passed before he showed up outside your window, the way he always used to when you were younger. The nostalgia cracked the wall around your heart just enough for you to take pity on him and let him in.
“I’m sorry,” he said, tumbling to the ground. “I was a dick to you, and I’m sorry.”
“Hm, which time?” you smirked, leaving the window open behind him.
“I didn’t mean it,” Isaac blurted out, starting to pace the room as you watched, seated on your bed. “I just - everyone I love dies. My mom, Cam, Allison… I couldn’t let that happen to you.”
“So you broke my heart and left the country?” you pushed down the butterflies that flew up at the word “love”.
“I couldn’t stay,” he sighed. “Everywhere I looked, everything I did, she was always there. A reminder of everything I’d lost, everything I could lose. I knew if I stayed, I would keep losing people. I would lose you.”
“You did lose me,” you reminded him. “After everything we’d been through together, you tossed me aside like none of it mattered to you. We haven’t spoken in over a year.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he stopped pacing and sat beside you, his knee pressing against yours. “If something happened to you, I don’t know what I would do. When I came back and saw Liam attacking you, I saw red. Argent told me to wait, but I couldn’t. I had to get to you.”
“I had that handled,” you grumbled, even though he was right.
“I’m stupid for thinking you would’ve been happy to see me,” he continued. “When you pulled away from me, it broke my heart all over again.”
“All over again?” you finally met his eyes, and let his hand fall over yours.
“It broke my heart to leave you, Y/N. You’d always been there for me, I didn’t know what to do without you. Everything in my life, every horrible thing, I had you to help me through it all. It made things seem less horrible. But in Paris, without you, I had nothing but my own grief,” he ran his thumb over yours comfortingly. “I came back for you. Argent told me about Scott’s text, and I knew I had to go. I had to see you.”
“It’s been over a year, Isaac. You don’t call, you don’t write. What am I supposed to think?”
“When I left, I knew I had to hurt you. If I was out of your life, it would keep you safe. Y/N, I…” he faltered, looking at the floor.
“What?” you prompted him, gently squeezing his hand.
“I always had a crush on you,” he laughed softly at himself. “When we were younger. But I knew you would never feel the same. And then, with Allison, everything happened so quickly. Her heart was always with Scott though, I could tell. And mine was always with you.”
The room fell silent after that, your head ready to explode. Isaac had moved back from France to tell you liked you? It made no sense.
“Why now, Isaac?” you studied him for any change of emotion. “What about protecting me?”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned from this week, it’s that you’ll run headfirst into danger for anyone. You have no self preservation instincts,” he smirked. “I mean, you let Liam attack you so Scott could get the upper hand. You’re reckless, and a little crazy, but that’s what makes you special. I mean, there were times that I would’ve definitely been dead if you hadn’t been fighting next to me.”
“So, what now?” you sighed. “You abandon me for over a year, and then come back and want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid,” Isaac’s eyes darkened and he shifted to stand. You tightened your grip on his hand to get him to stay.
“It would be stupid,” you couldn’t help but smile. “But I do feel the same, Isaac. Well, I did. It’s a little confusing right now.”
It was true, you were extremely confused. You loved Isaac, and then he left, and you hated him. You’d spent so long resenting him for leaving, and now he was back, and your heart wasn’t sure what to make of it. You were mad at him, but you also missed him more than you thought was possible. And, annoyingly enough, your feelings for him were still there.
Isaac sat in silence, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly. His eyes searched your own for answers, and the nervousness on his face made him seem younger somehow, as if he was still the Isaac from childhood who would climb through your window and sleep at the foot of your bed.
The only thing you could think to do was lean forward and close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips gently against his. Isaac reacted quickly, relaxing into your touch and leaning in closer. You pulled away after a moment, savoring the way his lips instinctively curled into a smile.
“I missed you,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.
“I missed you too,” he replied, his eyelashes brushing against your cheek. “Are you sure about this? You wanna try?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “But we’re gonna go slow. Very slow. You still have a lot of making up to do.”
“I know,” he agreed. “How about I start with this?”
Isaac took your face in his hands and closed the distance again, kissing you slowly and sweetly.
“Okay,” you said as you pulled away for air. “That’s a good start.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but you covered his lips with your own, pulling him back in for more.
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lay-z · 4 months ago
thy who plays foolish games, shalt garner foolish prizes | 1
MCU | dark!Stucky x f!Reader | 18+
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» previous chapter/s ; masterlist
Summary: It all starts with an innocent crush, and your passion for teasing and banter. You don’t mean anything by it, really. However, unaware of what you’ve started, the consequences will soon catch up to you.
Warnings/Info: Though this chapter does not contain smut or fits the following warnings, the story will be 18+ only! For good measure. I mean it; don’t come at me if you read it despite the trigger warnings, and not liking what you’ve read, please.  | TW:dark content | eventual dub-con/non-con; stalking; gaslighting; explicit sexual content&language; cussing; smoking/drinking
Tags: @sweetdreams25​ @nichia88-blog​
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You look up from your laptop screen, utterly perplexed, when a Starbucks cup is placed on your cluttered desk with a thud.
“One Venti Pumpkin Spice latte just for you”, Miss Pepper Potts, your new boss and CEO of Stark Industries, smiles down at you triumphantly, one perfectly manicured hand on her hip.
“Oh my gosh, how’d you know? Thank you!”
You adjust your reading glasses with a sheepish smile and roll your eyes with a satisfied hum as you take a sip of the heavenly brew.
“I don’t want to sound creepy, but you post a lot on social media” The strawberry blonde waves her smartphone in the air. “the fall season aesthetic of your Instagram profile is so pretty, and then I just had to put two and two together”
“I’m that basic, huh?”, you chuckle nervously; internally embarrassed by the fact that your boss knows about your social media accounts. Could it be a warning? Her telling you to watch out about your posts in a roundabout way. But Pepper has been nothing but incredibly nice to you, it’d be out of character for her to think that way; perhaps you are just overthinking again.
“Hey, I finished your schedule for the next six weeks, by the way. I’ll let you know about any changes ASAP if something comes up”
“Ugh, thank you! Your precursor had messed it up completely before she left” She gesture at the clutter of papers and folders on your desk. “which explains all this. I’m so sorry you have to fix it”
You click your tongue and wave her off with a smile. “Don’t apologize, Miss Potts, I’m so grateful for this opportunity”
Her phone starts ringing, Pepper looks at the screen and back to you with an apologetic smile. “I have to answers this, sorry. Enjoy your coffee and call me Pepper! I’ve told you that already, Y/N”
You thank her again as she leaves, and the clicking of her high heels echoes down the hall as she disappears into her office. The backrest of your luxurious office chair gives in as you sink into it with a heavy sigh. Your gaze roams over your desk, and your shoulders slouch when you think about the remaining paperwork for today.
Another sip of coffee gives you the motivation you need to tackle what you’ve started. Three hours, tops, and you’re free.
Your own phone buzzes and the screen lights up with a preview of a text from your best friend. You barely use your phone at work since you want to keep up a good impression, but whenever you’re sure Pepper is busy, you sneak a quick look.
Friday, 8pm. Chillout at my place! I got two bottles of that Rosso Nobile red wine you like. Bitch, you in?
You snicker to yourself as you answer Mya’s text with a simple thumbs up.
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You’ve just sorted the last documents into the proper folders and with your arms akimbo, you look at your clean desk with a satisfied sigh. Even better, you’ve managed to finish it 23 minutes short of three hours. Time to go home.
Your phone vibrates and the screen shows P. Potts; with pursed lips you swipe your fingertip over the screen to answer the call.
“Hey, Y/N, I got something for Mr. Stark to sign but I have to be in a conference call in 5 minutes. Could you get them from my office, please?”
“Uh, yes, sure”, you answer as you pack up your bag with the phone clenched between your cheek and shoulder.
“Thank you!” Pepper hangs up and you smirk to yourself as you make your way towards her office. Mister Stark, she said, as if their relationship is a secret. The large door to her office is cracked open, but you knock anyway before stepping inside.
Pepper is sitting at her desk, a document in her hands, and when she notices you, she greets you with a beaming smile.
“Thank you, Y/N! I swear it’s the last thing I ask of you today, you can be off as soon as you have his signature”, she explains to you as you approach the desk. She puts the documents in a black folder with the company logo on it, and hands it to you.
“Take it home with you and just give it to me tomorrow, I know he’ll forget it in his workshop if he keeps it” She rolls her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose as her phone buzzes.
“Will that be all, Miss – uh, Pepper?”
Pepper winks and nods as she puts the phone to her ear. You wave goodbye as she starts talking to whoever is on the phone with her, and you close the heavy door behind you as you exit her office with the folder in your hands and the strap of your bag on your shoulder.
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You practically skip down the long hall way towards the elevators and as you step inside, you scan your work ID on the black screen next to the buttons and push the one taking you to the level of Tony Starks workshop afterwards. The door closes and you sway back and forth on your feet in anticipation.
Sometimes you still catch yourself wondering in awe how lucky you were to score a job as Pepper Potts personal assistant at the new Avengers Facility. You’ve never admitted it, not even in your job interview, but you’re a major superhero geek. The first time you met Tony Stark in person, he landed in front of you in his Iron Man suit when Pepper was showing you around the facility.
And don’t even get started on Captain America…
On your third day of work, you were casually greeted by none other than Steve Rogers himself as you hurried to the elevators. It was 7 in the morning; you nearly fainted.
Since then, you’ve gotten way more comfortable at your workplace. Hell, you could even say you and Steve have developed a somewhat flirty relationship, on your part at least. He always has a compliment for you, a polite comment, or a friendly greeting, and you’ve rarely seen anything sweeter than Captain America’s bashful smile after you give him a compliment in return. If only you could run your hands through his soft, dark blonde hair, just once, and you’d truly be happy.
You can hear the booming sound of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid as you approach the workshop.
Tony is engrossed in some holograms, stuff you couldn’t understand even if you’d try, and yelling wouldn’t be enough to get his attention, so you walk up to him and wave the folder around until he turns his focus on you with a quirked eyebrow.
The music quiets down, you don’t know how he did that, and he rolls his eyes as he spots the folder.
“I told her I’d sign it later. Did she sent you down here just to get my signature? What time is it anyway? Shouldn’t you be off, kiddo?”
He snatches the folder out of your hand and scans the papers haphazardly before holding his palm out to you.
“All right, Miss Moneypenny, pen, please”
You wrinkle your brows at his nickname, rummage through your bag while his intense gaze is on you, and hand him the elegant Stark Industries pen you’ve gotten from Pepper on your first day. He looks at it and the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement as he finally signs the three documents.
“Pepper told me you’re doing great at your job so far”, he says as he hands you back the folder and pen. “Are you happy at Stark Industries? Everyone treating you right?”
You nod eagerly, intimidated by his casualness. “Absolutely, Mr. Stark, thank you, uh…for asking”
A deep voice interrupts you, and you’d recognize it anywhere.
“Capsicle”, Tony greets him with a smirk and puts his arm around your shoulders. “have you met Y/N already? She’s Pepper’s new assistant”
Steve Rogers stands leaning against the doorframe, and you wonder how long he has been standing there. His navy-blue button-down shirt is rolled up to his elbows and you let your eyes roam over the veins in his muscular arms until you force yourself to stop. He smiles innocently at you and nods.
“Of course, I have. Good to see you again, Y/N”, he greets you politely, and the way your name rolls off the tip of his tongue makes your heart skip a beat.
“Hi…Steve” You give a small, awkward wave and feel your cheeks heat up. Tony snickers as he lets go off you and goes to shut down the holograms.
“Tony, team meeting in five. We have some issues to discuss”, Steve informs him, but Tony waves him off.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Hey, Cap, be a gentleman and escort this lady to the elevators, hm”
You grip the straps of your bag tighter as you thank Iron Man internally. Bless this man, this wonderful, wonderful man.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, you have a meeting soon”, you decline, faking bashfulness, fully aware that a man like Steve Rogers would never accept this answer, and you’re right.
Steve shakes his head with a smile and nods his towards the hall. “Nonsense, come on”
“Atta boy”, Tony mutters absentmindedly, now focused on another task. “See ya, Y/N”
You follow Steve down the hall and inhale his scent deeply as you walk next to him. He smells like aftershave, hair gel, and tangy body wash; overall just heavenly.
“So, do you have any plans for your evening?” He clears his throat and stuffs his hands inside his pockets. “Perhaps with your boyfriend”
You snort and apologize when he furrows his brows at you with a smirk.
“What’s so funny about that?”
“No, it’s just – I don’t have a boyfriend”, you answer sheepishly as gaze up at him. He hums in acknowledgement and his jaw clenches.
You two approach the elevators and your stomach drops a little. How could you get your hopes up and think Captain America would ask you out on a date? Pathetic.
You press the button, the silver doors open swiftly, and you step inside with your eyes focused on the floor.
“Well, have a good night then. Thank you for walking with me”, you say and try to keep the sour undertone out of your voice. However, as the doors try to close again, Steve holds them open with one hand.
“Y/N, wait”
Your heartbeat speeds up as you watch Steve scratch the back of his head awkwardly, searching for words.
“I was wondering if…if you’d like to, I don’t know, have a drink with me?”
You stare at him dumbly; lips parted a little as you process his question.
“Only if you’re up for it, of course, I mean –“
“Yes!”, you blurt out suddenly, too loud, and too eager at that, and Steve’s lips pull into a smirk. “I mean” You clear your throat and shrug your shoulders. “yeah, that’d be…nice”
The doors try to close again, but Steve stops them once more as you scribble your number on a piece of an old grocery store receipt. Your hand is trembling ever so slightly as he takes the paper from you, and even the delicate brush of his fingertips over your own sends shivers down your spine.
“Text me the details…or call, whatever you prefer”, you chuckle nervously as he shoots you a lopsided grin.
“I will” He steps out of the way, so the doors can close eventually. “Have a good night, Y/N”
You grab the straps of your bag with a beaming smile. “You too and have fun at your meeting”
Steve waits until the doors close, and when they do, you brace yourself on the elevator door for support, breathing rapidly. Your knees are weak, your stomach is in nervous knots while butterflies are going rogue.
Captain America just asked you out on a date.
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jawritter · 26 days ago
Fight For Me
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Chapter 9
Summary: He found you in his darkest hour. There was something about this man that just wouldn’t let you leave him alone. He needed you, almost as much as you needed him. Sometimes, even the strongest people out there needs someone to fight for them too.
Warning: ** Heavy Trigger Warning!** Male R*pe. Implications to male r*pe. Injuries because of assault. Language. Recovery from r*pe, Mention of broken bones. Pain, blood, lots of blood. Language, fear, emergency situation. drug use.   Flangst. Dealing with the aftermath of rape. Jensen’s in his head a little bit. Language I think? But with me that’s a given isn’t it? LOL.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Nurse!Reader
Word Count: 2264
Beta’d By: @deanwinchesterswitch, whom I could not have done this without, she’s put in so much time in this series, and I couldn’t thank her enough! 💜
Help line for Male R*pe Victims!
(If you are someone you love has been a victim of Male sexual assault, and need someone to talk to please, please do not hesitate to call. There are people out there that are willing to help, even if it’s just to listen! YOU’RE NOT ALONE!)
A/N: THERE WILL NOT BE A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES!! You can find it here on Tuesdays and Fridays posted at 7 PM (CST), and well as my Library at the same time @jawritterslibrary This fic was requested by a nurse, how wishes to remain anonymous! This fic was not written for the glorification of R*pe, or it’s victims, but instead to help get a glimpse of the reality that comes from such a violent act! Please be respectful. Please know this is a dark fic, and it’s heavy. Feedback is golden. Please do not copy my work! Thank you all so much for your support. It means the word to me.
My Masterlist Buy Me Coffee         My Patreon  Series Masterlist
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The flight to Austin wasn’t an unpleasant one, as flights can sometimes be. You only had one layover, and that wasn’t a long one, so you got back to Texas somewhat earlier than planned. There were no delays or any other holdups, and you were both able to navigate the airport without much trouble. Thankfully, no fans were swarming about wanting pictures and asking questions, which was Jensen’s biggest fear. 
He knows that what happened to him has been well-publicized and that everyone is aware of what he went through, or at least has a sense of it, but he isn’t ready to face that reality yet, and you don’t blame him. 
Jensen gasps, seeing Jared sitting on the front stoop as he turns into the driveway of his home in Austin. He parks the car in the garage and has barely shut off the engine before getting out of the vehicle. You had contacted Jared as soon as the flights had been arranged and texted him a couple of hours ago with your new arrival time so he’d know when to be there. 
It has been months since the pair that had once been joined at the hip daily has seen each other, and the way they practically run to each other like a couple of kids makes you smile. 
The genuine smile on Jensen’s face makes you glad you told Jared that the two of you were headed to Austin, that Jensen was coming home. Jensen needs this. He needs to be surrounded by people that love him and are ready to support him through the whole, long, difficult recovery process. 
Recovering from the physical trauma isn’t the hard part, not really. No, it’s recovering from the mental damage; that’s what will take the most work. That’s one reason why you wanted to get him back down here, just as badly as he wanted to be here. You can tell he is already more relaxed and at ease later in the afternoon as he sits on the back patio with the fire pit roaring in front of the three of you, a beer in his hand, and his best friend by his side. 
You offered to give them some time to talk alone, but they had both insisted that you stay. Jensen likes having you close, and Jared said that he wanted to get to know you better. Jared never asks Jensen about the attack, and you have to commend Jared for that tremendously. That would be the first thing most people would want to talk about, but Jared? No, he just wants to sit and have a beer with his brother. Jared is funny and easy to get along with, and you are thankful that he seems to like you as well. If you are going to be in Jensen’s life, then Jared is a big part of the package. It’s a bit of a relief too. You’ve become very protective of Jensen; maybe a bit overprotective if you are honest with yourself. So it’s comforting to know that there is someone else who cares about him as much as you do.
By the time Jared leaves, it is late. Jensen walks Jared out to his car, and you are finally able to take a good look around what will be your new home for the foreseeable future. It’s undeniably a far cry from the little apartment you left back in Toronto. In fact, it is a bit overwhelming. You have only seen places like this on television, and you have never pictured yourself actually living in one. It feels somewhat surreal. 
Jensen isn’t the only one that has gone through some significant changes. While not on the same scale as what he has gone through, you hadn’t given much thought to the upheaval in your life until you sat down on the oversized sectional in the center of the family room while Jensen went to take a shower. 
Thinking back on the past few weeks, you wouldn’t have altered the course. If you had to do it all over again, you’d do it just the same as long as you ended up with Jensen. He has quickly become the most important person in your life, which is perfectly okay with you. 
“So, what do you think?” Jensen asks as he sits next to you on the couch, lacing his fingers with yours and looking around the room. 
“It’s impressive,” you tell him honestly. “It’s definitely going to take some getting used to for me.”
“Thank you for coming down here with me,” Jensen says earnestly. “You’ve given up so much for me, and you’ve never once complained.”
You bite down on your lower lip as you look into his jade eyes. He looks relaxed and content, at home, in his own space, seemingly feeling safe for the first time since you met him. To you, it was not a  sacrifice. It was the right thing to do. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Jensen. There’s no other place I’d rather be. Besides, if we end up taking this relationship to the altar, I can get on one of those fancy, rich, desperate housewives shows. Every girl’s dream,” you joke, causing him to throw his head back and laugh in earnest. One of those full-body laughs you have only seen him do on TV. 
“You know what? I think I’m going to take you out on a date tomorrow. That is if you want to go out on a date with me?” Jensen says, taking you completely by surprise. He’s not shown any interest in being out in public since you found him in the hospital. 
“Of course I want to go out with you,” you tell him, and the boyish smile he gives you makes your heart leap in your chest. “Only if you’re sure you’re ready to go into the wild again.”
Jensen licks his lips, his eyes traveling over you as he shrugs. 
“I’m home now. I feel safer here. Granted, that feeling may be nothing but an illusion, but I’m okay with it because I feel better now that I’m here and away from Canada. Besides, I’m finally feeling more like myself now, and I want to take my girl out to dinner. Maybe even go down to the boardwalk before reality kicks us in the ass, and I have to start therapy and physical therapy.”
Your eyes widen, and you turn to speak, but he puts his hand up to stop you. 
“It’s okay, Y/N. I heard you on the phone making the appointments. I know I need help. I know I need to talk to a professional. That doesn’t make it any easier, but I also know I’d never do it if you weren’t pushing me to do it. I’m not mad.”
“I was going to talk to you about it tomorrow after you rested some, and if you refused to go, I was going to cancel the appointment, but Jensen, I’m going to be there the whole time. I promise I’m not going to leave you alone,” you tell him, and he brings his lips to yours to halt your worrying. 
“Hey, honestly, I’m not upset about it. I mean, I don’t look forward to any of it, but I know it’s what I need to do, and I’ve accepted that fact. Knowing you are going to be there helps. If you weren’t planning on being there, I probably would have refused to go.”
You adjust to lay your head against his shoulder as he grabs the oversized throw on the couch and drapes it over the two of you. Neither of you says anything for a long moment, not wanting to disturb the calm, comfortable atmosphere surrounding you. 
In the silence, you can almost hear the wheels turning in Jensen’s head but let it go. If he wants to talk to you about whatever he is thinking, then he’ll talk. Until then, you aren’t going to force anything out of him. He’s had a long, busy day, and one hurdle at a time seems like the best course of action right now. If you get in a hurry or push him, it might set him back. 
He agreed to go to therapy, and that in and of itself is enough of a win tonight because as much as you could be wrong, you feel more confident that it will help him process what happened to him and move the healing process along. 
“Jared asked me if I’d like to pop in on the set of Walker this coming week,” Jensen says after a while, breaking the stillness around you. “He thinks they want to give me a guest role since I’m going to be in Austin for a little while.”
You turn to look at him, and his eyes are as distant as his voice sounds. 
“Well, how do you feel about working again?” you ask him, and he shrugs before letting go of the breath he was holding. 
“Honestly, I don’t know. Part of me wants to get back on the horse again. Then part of me is afraid I’ll get triggered by something stupid and have a panic attack in the middle of filming a scene or some shit,” he reveals, playing with the blanket between his fingers as yours trace the words on the front of his Led Zeppelin shirt. 
“Well, think about it this way. If something happens, you have Jared right there with you, and if someone should have an issue with it, that is their problem. You’ve been through a lot Jensen, and you’re putting more pressure on yourself than anyone expects of you.”
“As stupid as this sounds, I don’t get why it’s taking me so long. Why can't I just bounce back? It was sex. Males and Females. Same-sex partners. People have sex every fucking day. I- I didn’t want it, and yeah, what I went through was… terrifying.” You feel him start to tremble and gently squeeze the hand still entwined with yours as you place your other hand over his heart to try and help calm him. “They did…” he briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head, “things to me that went beyond unwanted sexual activities, but the physical injuries are all but healed. I don’t understand why I can’t get past it and move on.” Jensen looks at you, and haunted green eyes plead with yours to help him find the answer, causing your heart to break anew for him.
“Jensen, what those monsters did to you wasn’t just about sex. They tortured you; they took your choice away from you; they screwed with your head as well as violated your body.” You run your hand up his chest to cup his jaw and stroke your thumb over his cheek. “You don’t just bounce back from that. No one can. Rape isn’t something that you can just brush off as unwanted sex. It leaves a scar, and sometimes it takes a long damn time to let go of what was done to you, and that’s okay.”
“I feel so weak and afraid all the time now,” Jensen says, stopping to chew on his lower lip. “I know I’m probably trying to move on too fast, but fuck, I don’t want to be stuck like this forever.”
“And you won’t be,” you assure him. “That’s why I think talking to a therapist will help you. You need to talk to someone who understands the effects of the trauma you went through and knows how to help you deal with your feelings. There’s no shame in asking for help or needing to talk about it, and it sure doesn’t make you weak.”
“I know that, but it’s hard to convince myself of that if it makes any sense,” Jensen says, yawning as he adjusts the blanket tighter around him. 
“You’re tired. Let’s get you to bed,” you tell him, standing up, gripping his hand tighter, and pulling him to his feet. 
“You know, the master bedroom has a perfect view of the lake from here,” he says, leading you down the hallway and to the bedroom, swinging the door open widely and ushering you into the room. 
He’s right; the view from here is breathtaking and definitely something you could get used to. 
“You know, with a view like this, I don’t think I’m ever going to leave this room again,” you tell him as you make your way to the large windows facing out over the water and the backyard. 
Jensen hums, coming to wrap his arms around your waist and turn you to face him. 
“It’s overrated,” he says, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I like this view much better.”
Jensen brings his lips to yours in a slow, sweet kiss that has you melting against him. God, you could get used to this being a daily occurrence. The feel his lips on yours, his arms around you, it’s all you’d ever need again; you are sure of it. 
 “Come on,” he says, taking your hand and pulling you towards the large, soft-looking bed in the middle of the room. “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, plus our date tomorrow night.”
For the first time since that fateful night at the hospital, you both have something to look forward to, and it feels amazing. You hope this is the start of something new, something better, moving on to a new future—one without so much pain. 
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Forever Tags: 
Jensen and Dean’s Babes:
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maddiwrites · 10 months ago
Breathe With Me
Pairing: JJ x Reader
Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.
Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll. 
Word Count: 3.5k
WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!! 
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
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It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.
Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?
One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas. 
The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought. 
You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.
Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner. 
You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.
John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.
Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first. 
To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning. 
A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead. 
Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.
Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences. 
When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time. 
As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”
“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.
You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?
“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”
When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”
“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags. 
“You have your phone?”
You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid. 
Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement. 
As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes. 
“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”
“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.
“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it. 
“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”
The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of. 
Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”
Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought. 
“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”
“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.
Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different. 
“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump. 
“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him. 
“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him. 
“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.
Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified. 
Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards. 
“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.
“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”
“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”
The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating. 
“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting. 
“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”
Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”
JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”
“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”
“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one. 
Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”
JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster. 
Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”
You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach. 
It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night. 
A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.
About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back? 
But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his. 
“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”
“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”
Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive. 
You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.
“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally. 
“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises. 
You shake your head. “No.”
“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper. 
“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”
You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”
“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope. 
Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”
“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.
“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip. 
“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to. 
“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”
JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you. 
“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.
“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.
John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.
“Where do you think?” JJ says.
When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”
“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”
“You can’t,” Kie says.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”
“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”
JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.
“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.
“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.
“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.
Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second. 
JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”
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thisbeatchachinglikemoney · a month ago
We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2
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Part 15 of the Boys with Luv series
Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS
Summary: The members help Y/N through her recovery
Warnings: Mentions of rape, self-harm and suicidal thoughts, domestic abuse, kidnapping, PTSD flashbacks
Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles, @aclowe13, @cherryxholland, @potaetopic​​, @dustyinkpages, @njrwifey, @slut4matsukawa, @xyahrinx, @donghaesgirl91​​
AN: This is going to be quite a sensitive chapter, containing topics that could trigger some people. Please proceed with care. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!
Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16
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“Hyunjin?” Y/N called from her bed. It had been four days since she had been discharged from the hospital into the care of her younger brother and it had been over a week since she had seen her soulmates. Hyunjin had not allowed them to see her as he was convinced they had ulterior motives with her since they had allowed Jackson to kidnap her. He had gone as far to tell the doctors of the hospital that he was not comfortable with any information regarding Y/N’s wellbeing to be shared with them and had stationed Changbin outside the door to stop them entering the hospital room.
“Yes, noona?” Hyunjin popped his head around the door. He was holding a tray with some juk. Y/N wrinkled her nose. The rice porridge was the only thing she had been given to eat since she had come home. It was becoming quite boring.
“You do realise I am allowed to move around, right?” She reminded him, wanting to see something else other than the four walls of her childhood bedroom. 
“You do realise you are recovering from major surgery?” Hyunjin raised his eyebrows as he set the tray down on her desk. He leaned against it, one of his legs crossed over the other. 
“I’ve got about a week of recovery left. They discharged me for a reason, Hyunnie.” 
“I just want to be sure you’re okay, noona. You’ve been through a lot and I’m not entirely sure you’ve fully processed it yet.” Y/N was silent. Yes, there had been nightmares were she was back in that room, tied to the bed while Jackson raped her. But there had also been the dreams that were good. Dreams were she had been spending time with her brother, and with her soulmates. But she knew that she would not be able to have a physical relationship with the boys for a while considering what had happened to her. They would just have to take it slow, which was why she was slightly grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t allowing them to see her. Less chance of a mental breakdown over a hug or a kiss. 
It had taken almost a week for Hyunjin to be able to hold her hand and hug her. The first time he had done it she had screamed and cried until the doctor relaxed her with a sedative. But she still longed for her soulmates presence.
“Please, Hyunnie, let me see them.” She pleaded. “You can be there in the room as well as any of the boys you want to be there. I just need to see them.”
Hyunjin sighed and moved over to the bed, sitting down. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, noona. What if you have a panic attack over them trying to kiss you?”
“I have you here to calm me down, don’t I?” Y/N reminded him. “And besides, I’ll do my management techniques that my therapist taught me. He can’t hurt me anymore. I just need to remember that.”
Hyunjin leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Fine. You text them and tell them to come over in an hour or so and I’ll get Changbin hyung and Chan hyung to come over as well. And maybe Lee Know hyung.”
“Okay, Hyunnie. Thank you.” Y/N smiled at her brother and ruffled his hair. Hyunjin stood up and handed her the food. 
“Eat up.” He set the tray on her lap. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so to see how you’re getting on.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Y/N looked down at the juk and sighed. “Why is it always this?” She whined before beginning to eat.
An hour later, Y/N was propped up against the headboard of her bed with many pillows surrounding her and one of Hyunjin’s hoodies on. 
“Noonaaaa!” Changbin said excitedly as he entered the room followed by Chan and Lee Know.
“Hi, noona!” Lee Know waved as he sat on her desk chair. Chan stood behind him, leaning against the wall.
“Hi, Y/Nie.” He smiled. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes I am, thank you Chan oppa.” Y/N replied. “How’s being idols now?”
“It’s good.” Lee Know said. “Fun.”
“That’s good.” Y/N said. “I’ve listened to your guys stuff, it’s really good.”
“Thank you.” Changbin said. He was sat on Y/N’s windowsill seat where she used to sit and read when she was younger. 
There was a comfortable silence for a while before Y/N heard several sets of footsteps on the stairs. 
“They’re here!” She exclaimed excitedly. Hyunjin walked into her room, shutting the door behind him. She frowned at him and tilted her head.
“Are you completely sure you can handle this?” He asked.
“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure. And if I need you, you’re next door. I’ll text you or something.” She reassured him. “So, you four, out. Let me see my boys.”
“If anything happens, anything at all, just let us know. We are right next door.” Hyunjin said as the four of them left the room. 
“I know, Hyunnie.” Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath to steady herself and calm herself down. There was a soft knock on the door. She cleared her throat. “Come in.”
“Baby girl!” Her Hobi was there with a huge smile on his face.
“Hobi!” He came into her room and gently made his way over to her. “Where are the rest of you?”
“We’re going to come in one at a time to let you adjust and everything. We want to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” Hoseok explained, kneeling down next to her bed. “How are you?”
Y/N reached out her hand which Hoseok took. She had missed feeling him. “I’m okay. Healing slowly but I’m okay.”
“That’s amazing, baby girl. I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” Hoseok said.
“I missed you.” Y/N felt tears prick her eyes.
“I missed you too, baby girl.” Hoseok’s eyes looked all over her face, softening even more. “Oh, please, don’t cry, baby girl. It’s okay.” Y/N sniffled and grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. Hoseok watched her for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Can I hug you?”
He’s not Jackson. Not Jackson. This is Hoseok. Jackson can’t hurt me anymore. She reminded herself. 
“Please.” She said. Hoseok stood up and climbed onto her bed, pulling her into his arms.
“There we go.” He said as he maneuvered them gently into a comfortable position. Y/N burst into tears again having missed this feeling so much. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. I’m here.” He played with her hair and stroked her back. 
“I needed this.” She whispered, her voicy croaky from the tears. 
“I know, baby girl. I know.” Hoseok’s voice was soft. “I needed this too.”
There was a knock at the door. Y/N looked up from her spot on Hoseok’s chest and saw that Seokjin was stood in the doorway.
“Oh, sweetheart.” His face filled with sympathy when he saw her crying. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re happy tears, Jin oppa.” Y/N sniffled. “I didn’t realise how much I had missed you until I saw you.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart. So much.” Seokjin took hold of her hand and rubbed the back of it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” Y/N said. “I’m not a hundred percent where I was before yet, but I’m getting there.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Jin said. “Can I join the cuddle?” Y/N nodded and Hoseok lifted her up slightly and rolled onto his back so Jin could lie next to them. He then placed her on both of their chests so she was lying kind of in between them on her side with Hobi behind her and Jin in front of her. They were both holding hands on her hip. 
“Hi,” Y/N whispered. She was quite close to Jin’s face.
“Hi sweetheart.” Jin said reaching up to push some hair out of her face. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You are, baby girl.” Hoseok agreed. Y/N blushed and hid her face in Jin’s shoulder, causing the pair of them to chuckle.
“You definitely are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, baby.” Came a voice from the door.
“Joonie oppa?” She lifted her head up and saw Namjoon stood with a huge smile on his face, showing his dimples.
“Hello, beautiful baby. How have you been?” Namjoon stood awkwardly by the edge of the bed not really sure what to do. 
“I’ve been better, if I’m being totally honest. But I’m getting there.” Y/N replied.
“That’s good, baby. We will all help you get to where you need to be.” Joon said.
“Join the cuddle!” Hoseok said happily. 
“Ok, hyungs move up and go on your sides.” Namjoon instructed. “And then I’m gonna lie in the middle with our pretty little baby in my arms because I’ve missed her so much.”
“I missed you too.” Y/N smiled, moving to let Namjoon lie down. Once he was comfortable she carefully laid down on top of him. She had gotten her stitches out and the wound had healed but it still hurt a little bit if she moved too quickly, and she still had the fear she would somehow rip it open.
“Cuddles without me?” Jimin’s voice rang across the room. Y/N could picture the pout on his face. She looked over at him. Yup, there it was.
“You’re cute, Jiminie.” Y/N cooed, making him smile at her.
“Not as cute as you, though.”
Y/N opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the others agreeing with him and not allowing her to say otherwise. 
“Are you okay? I was so scared.” Jimin asked, crawling onto the bed and lying next to her on top of Hoseok, who let out a small grunt when Jimin flopped onto him.
“I’m okay. Getting better, Min. I’m not completely there yet, but I will be.” Y/N promised, making Jimin nod in understanding. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“I’m glad you’re back in my arms, princess.” He said softly.
“I’m glad too, Min.” Y/N said, staring into his eyes. 
“Baby bear!” Taehyung exclaimed, bounding into the room.
“TaeTae!” Y/N smiled, sitting up, her legs on either side of Namjoon’s stomach. She opened her arms and made grabby hands at him. Tae climbed on Jin and hugged Y/N tight. She heard him inhale deeply on the top of her head.
“You’re okay. That’s so good. I’m proud.” Taehyung said, his deep voice rumbling through Y/N’s body. 
“Yeah, I’m getting there. Still a bit jumpy.” Y/N explained, making Tae hum in understanding.
“I get that, darling. I understand.” Tae said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He froze. “I’m sorry if that was too far.”
“It’s fine, Tae. Honestly. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Y/N reassured him. He pulled away and looked her in the eye to make sure she was comfortable.
“Okay, baby bear. Okay.” Taehyung settled down on top of Jin, who groaned as he shifted his weight along Jin’s stomach.
“Tae, I love you, but ow.” Jin complained. 
“Love you too, hyung.” Tae leaned up and kissed Jin’s lips. “Yoongi hyung said to let you know that he thought it would be best if he and Jungkook were alone with Y/N.”
“Why?” Y/N was confused. She tilted her head to side and glanced at the boys in front of her.
“It’s easier to let him explain, baby.” Namjoon said, sitting up. Y/N slid into his lap.
“Is it bad?” Y/N chewed on her lip.
“It’s okay, baby girl. They’re both okay. They just both really, really missed you.” Hoseok replied, reassuring her. 
Taehyung and Jimin clambered off the bed after sandwiching her between kisses to her cheeks. Jin followed with a kiss to the top of her head, with Hobi close on his heels, leaving a kiss to Y/N’s nose.
“It will be okay, baby. I promise. Some things happened while you were gone, which they want to talk to you about. But I promise you, it’s okay.” Namjoon said. Y/N nodded and got off Namjoon’s lap.
He kissed her forehead after he got off the bed. “I’ll see you later?”
“Of course, baby.” He said. “We’ll all go home and watch a movie or something.”
“Okay.” Y/N nodded, watching Namjoon’s retreating figure make his way out of the room and into the hallway. 
“Jagiya? Can I come in?” At the sound of his voice, Y/N eyes filled with tears. She had missed all of the boys, but Yoongi was her first soulmate. They had a special connection that none of the others had. 
“Yoonie.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. She got up from the bed and ran into his arms.
“Jagi. Oh, my God. Y/N.” Yoongi murmured into her hair, walking them into the room. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” Y/N confirmed. “Still a bit jumpy at certain things and have slight PTSD, but I’m okay.”
“That’s okay, jagiya. Fucking hell I missed you.” He pulled away and studied her face. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful.” He whispered, a hand coming up to cup her cheek. “So pretty.”
“I missed you, Yoon.” Y/N said, rubbing his shoulder. 
“I missed you more.” He said. Y/N looked up at him, taking in his cat-like eyes that pierced into her soul every time they looked at each other. His eyes dipped down to her lips. He paused and cleared his throat. “Can I...?”
Y/N hesitated. Jackson had never actually kissed her the entire time she was there, so she should be fine. And she wanted him to. That meant something, surely. Her body was telling her to, so she would be fine.
“Yes.” She breathed. Yoongi leaned down and connected their lips together.
Y/N waited with baited breath, unsure of what was about to happen. 
And then she felt it.
The fireworks.
Sparking and bursting inside her stomach. She smiled into the kiss, her hands coming up to curl into the hairs at the base of Yoongi’s neck. 
They both pulled away breathless. Yoongi was smiling lovingly at her, trying to catch his breath. 
“Fuck.” He murmured, a hand stroking her cheek. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N’s heart filled with dread. “What happened?” Yoongi was silent, looking down at his fingers. “Yoongi. Tell me.” She demanded.
“The night you were taken something happened between me and Jungkook.” He began. Y/N’s heart stopped. Had they broken up? Had Jungkook left them?
“Where is he?” She asked, needing to see him. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s not good, jagiya.” Yoongi had tears in his eyes. “He-” His breath hitched in his throat and he started to cry. “It’s all my fault.”
“What’s your fault? What happened?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arms around him. “Yoongi? Where is he? You’re scaring me.” Yoongi buried his head in her shoulder and kept saying he was sorry. “Yoongi, love, please tell me what happened.”
Yoongi took a deep breath to calm himself. “The night you were taken, Jungkook and I got into an argument. I told him that Jackson taking you was his fault and that caused him to hurt himself.”
“Fuck.” Y/N was shocked. She never thought Yoongi would be like that. “Why would you say that to him?”
“I was upset and angry and scared and I wasn’t in my right mind.” Yoongi explained. “I thought you were going to die. You said you would kill yourself if he ever took you again and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”
“Yoongi...” Y/N was still slightly angry at him for exploding at Jungkook like that, but she could understand where he was coming from. “I’m okay. I’m here. Just please, don’t ever do that again. Stuff like that it’s... damaging.”
“I know. There’s only two things I regret in my life. Hurting him like that and allowing Jackson to get close to you.” Yoongi said. 
“I want to see him.” She said. Yoongi nodded and left the room for a second, returning with a scared looking Jungkook.
“Koo.” Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and ran into his arms. He let out a breath of surprise before hugging her back.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating. Y/N felt her heart break. While she had gone through something horrible, it was clear Jungkook had too. And she knew that it would take some time for both of them to get through it, but at least they had each other.
84 notes · View notes
faevi · 8 months ago
Scenario: NSFW. (Part Two of Elevator Scenario.) You spend the weekend with Levi Ackerman. Mutual feelings blossom further and turn into a passionate night.
Word Count: 17,000+ words. That's right, 17,000. I died.
Note: I hope you all enjoy it. I worked hard on this one, even though there's still always room for improvement. I wrote it all on my phone--. I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts (whether in tags or messages) and reblogged, etc! In the end, I just want you all happy and be horny for Levi. Also, special thanks to Grammarly, thank you pal'.
Content / Trigger Warnings: modern!au. brief eating of food, mentions of overthinking / insecurities, emotions. NSFW (minors, dni!!). soft dom!levi unprotected sex, body worshipping, blowjob, cunnilingus, spit, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia, dumbification, light bondage, very messy sex, squirting, breast play (? like light slapping etc), borderline masochist/sadist mentions, possessiveness, mentions of pain (nothing too extreme! wowow pussy aching & light slaps), marking, brief sub-drop, aftercare. lots and lots of feels.
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Your hands tremble with nerves, eyes fixated on your figure in the mirror. You still couldn’t process any moment since the late night in the elevator. Hell, even the exact moment when Levi’s slender fingers were angled so perfectly and rubbing against the sensitive spot until you practically squirted. You’ve never done that before and you felt both embarrassed by the mess and hooked on the older male completely. At least he seemed pleased that he’s the reason for your best orgasm yet. Your feelings only blossoming further for the older male on how he treats you and looks at you. You exhale out softly, thinking back on the past two days.
For the next two days before the weekend, everything was back to normal. It left with you doubts, wondering if it was just a fever dream where you couldn’t contain your fantasies anymore. At work, he was back to just staring every time you were near and you’d feel your cheeks feel hot, walking by fast. He never made a way to talk to you or touch you. Did he want you or was it just lust acting that night? You were beginning to overthink until on Friday afternoon, he invited you into his office.
You close the door behind yourself as you entered, remembering his content when it comes to privacy. As your arm wraps awkwardly around your body to try and hide, you watch as Levi’s eyebrow arches up, looking at you thoughtfully. He could read you like a book and yet, he didn’t speak his thoughts directly, waiting for you to open up to him. He was never a fan of pushing. He’s adjusting his watch and clears his throat.
“Would you prefer that I pick you up in the morning for the entire weekend or perhaps the evening?”
You look up instantly, feeling a slight ache in your neck for moving too fast. You look at him with subtle fondness, keeping your voice quiet.
“You still want to spend the weekend with me?”
“Of course I do. I mean what I say. Were you having doubts?”
Levi seems gentle when he’s asking, even if he tries to hide it with an expressionless face, eyes staring into your soul.
“You just haven’t made effort to talk to me so I thought..”
“I just wanted to be careful, Y/N. Work is still important for both of us. You seem to overthink a lot.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—.”
“It’s natural. No need to apologise. How about this, I’ll message you more often, mostly out of work because I can’t distract you too much. I’m not a technology person but I’ll always enjoy talking to you.”
Your heart melts from his words. Indeed, he’s not really into technology, it’s often the one thing that co-workers joke about when Levi struggles and curses under his breath to keep his composure but you always found it endearing. It’s not that he’s terrible with it. He just appreciates life out of the screen. Your gazing at him as he’s glancing at emails to papers neatly stacked on his desk. He’s willing to talk to you even further but you wonder if he wanted to.
“Only if you want to, Levi. I’d hate for you to use something you hate.”
The corners of his lips curl up to form a brief smile, resting his chin on his palm as his elbow rests on the desk.
“I want to talk to you. I confess I’m not used to— this but, I can’t keep ignoring it. Though, I might prefer hearing your voice instead so forgive me if I call you sometimes. Now, morning or evening?”
It’s a sign that he doesn’t want to continue, only hoping it eased your troubled heart and it did, so quickly. You’re aware that Levi is never the openly affectionate type but he’s honest and prefers to show he cares through services and words. Even though he’s not talkative, he still wants to with you. You hum, playfully tapping your chin as you think of the options. You admit to loving the idea of spending the entire weekend together but something is telling you to stick with the evening. Maybe so you could put even more effort into looking pretty for him.
“Evening. You know, I can just meet you there— I can use public transport or an uber.”
“Tch. No, I prefer driving you myself. I’ll pick you up in the evening then. I look forward to seeing you then.”
Your cheeks feel hot once more, nodding your head as you inch towards the closed door, smiling warmly.
“I look forward to it, too.”
Once you left and walked back to your desk, you lied rather naturally to your co-worker, telling them that Mister Ackerman had queries about the meeting on Monday. You feel your phone buzz against your thigh and wiggle your phone out of your pocket to quickly check, eyes widening at the message.
[ Levi Ackerman. ] : You look pretty today.
[ Levi Ackerman. ] : Focus on your work.
You pout at his last message and set your phone down, feeling giddy from his compliment, oblivious to Levi peeking through the office blinds to watch your reaction. His lips curl up to form a small smile, endeared by your pout and his cheeks feel warm from his actions. It was spontaneous, never really the type to either message or speak compliments so easily but for you, it comes out naturally. Still. Levi is firm on himself and won’t message during the shift again, walking back over to his desk to finish his paperwork. You both work with the tiniest curls to the corners of your lips.
You snap out of your thoughts, frantically shaking your head and the palms of your hands patting at your cheeks. “Focus, focus! He’ll be here soon.” You mumble, knowing that Levi will always be a punctual man. You stare at yourself in the mirror once more. Today you went out to buy something cute and found this black dress. The straps are thick over your shoulders, the fabric hugging comfortably around your breasts, split in between to show some cleavage but still more on the modest side and the black fabric flows out, finishing above your knees. The chest part of your dress is made out of a lace pattern and the lower. part is made out of silk. You wear thigh high stockings and a pair of black heels.
You can only hope that Levi likes the dress you chose, pairing it with a necklace that rests between your collarbones and your choice of makeup is lingering on the natural side beside the red lipstick and mascara. Wanting to feel confident in yourself, you place your hands on your hips, giving a small twirl and admire the flow of the dress. You feel pretty and it shows when you smile at yourself.
Not wanting to be cold, you shrug on a black coat and begin to button it up when you hear the small chime of your doorbell. Oh— He’s actually at your door? Usually dates just text that they arrived and you meet them at their chosen vehicle. You swear your hands begin to feel clammy, grabbing your bag for the night that also has a container of cookies you baked, not wanting to go empty-handed.
“Coming!” You call out loudly, closing your bedroom door before you begin to walk quickly down the hallway, heels clicking on the wood. You open the door to meet face to face with Levi. Wow. You only saw him yesterday and have his gorgeous visuals painted permanently in your mind but it’s like you almost forgot when he takes your breath away. Levi is wearing a suit, buttoned up to hide the ironed shirt and the black-tie tightened in place, the slacks he’s wearing having no signs of creases.
Levi’s hands are holding onto a bouquet. The bouquet containing a variety of flowers, all in different shades of red. He didn’t like the idea of just roses but strongly believed in small gestures like flowers for a female he’s become to care for, even when he tried to deny it for so long. His grey eyes look you up and down, the coat hiding your dress but you still looked so stunning. He clears his throat, hoping to not come off as awkward. This is all new to him after all. He’s always been alone and content with it.
“Y/N, gorgeous as always.”
His voice is soothing and you both lean in, his lips brushing against your cheek. Maybe others would laugh at how proper the pair of you are being for a night together but, you both wanted to show you care in your ways. “These are for you,” Levi states, handing over the bouquet. He’s smiling softly for a moment, eyes holding fondness once more as he watches you smile shyly and almost hug the flowers without crushing them. “They’re beautiful. Let me just put them in some water and then I’ll be all yours.”
Levi hums in response, leaning against the open door frame as he watches you disappear down the hallway, eyes lingering on your heels. They make you taller than him when usually you’re roughly the same height but he doesn’t care. He’s never been insecure in his height. Once you were in the kitchen, you fill up a vase to gently set the bouquet in, smiling. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow, pretty flowers.”
You set them near the window where the sunset is filtering through the blinds and make way quickly to Levi, not enjoying being away from him. The dark-haired male moves aside as you lock up your door before he carefully takes hold of your hand, lacing fingers together. He’s never one for public affection but he missed the warmth of your hand. He reasoned silently that he knows it’d make you happy and it’s not exactly a huge public setting. You smile, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and pleased to feel how his hand feels in yours, allowing him to guide you out of the apartment complex and towards his vehicle.
You let out a low whistle of approval from seeing the sleek black car and he snorts quietly, opening the passenger door. You’re bold enough to press your lips to his cheek, grinning at the sight of the light rosiness before you settle into your seat. “Tch, cheeky.” He mutters, closing your passenger door before walking around to open the driver’s side and settles behind the wall. He glances towards you, buckling himself in. “Not starting until you’re buckled in.” He says, prompting you to feel like some school girl with a crush from the way your heart thumps fast just from him showing he cares about your safety. You obediently click yourself in and lean back into your seat.
Pleased with himself, Levi twists his keys until the gentle purr of the engine is heard. Not wanting you to be in any form of danger, he double-checks his mirrors, keeping his foot on the break before he shifts gears and you had to force yourself to look away and not admire his hands in action. He smoothly pulls out onto the road, making sure to move when it was safe to and presses down on the pedal for the speed to steadily pick up.
Most people tend to be lazy with driving and only have one hand on the wheel but of course, you notice that Levi uses both of his hands like everyone is taught to in the first place. He’s so proper in everything and you find yourself liking that about him. One of the many things that are attractive about him. You can only hope one day you can watch him drive without a suit jacket on. You snort, amused by your almost ‘fangirl’ way of thinking, shifting your gaze away.
He raises an eyebrow in question, eyes focused on the road. Levi is a good driver, always complimented for his quick reflexes. Hell, even his driving teacher said he could be a professional race driver if he wanted to be. It didn’t appeal to him. Levi glances towards you. “What are you thinking, huh?”
Levi asks, flicking the blinkers to signal that he’s turning before he does.
“You’re just really hot.”
Levi scoffs out of amusement from your words, shaking his head. “I’m doing absolutely nothing but driving and yet, I’m hot.” He states, trying to understand but is quick to accept his answer of being too old and you can only giggle, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. “It’s the driving that’s hot. Though, next time, skip the jacket and just roll your sleeves up. Girls go crazy for that.” You tease, tilting your head. Levi rolls his eyes, continuing to drive. “I’m only interested in one girl and if that is something she likes, so be it.”
His response is smooth and unintentionally flirty but it still makes you rest your hand over your heart? puffing out your cheeks. Wow. Anything he says could make you instantly swoon. Levi is smug, his gaze feeling hot on you before he focuses back on the road, driving with ease through traffic. It took everything in him to not place his hand on your thigh and give a squeeze, wanting to feel the warmth through the sheer fabric of your stockings. He wanted to so desperately but, two hands on the wheel.
You watch as his knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the wheel, adjusting his posture. This sparked some confidence in you. You slowly extend your out until your hand is resting on his toned thigh and giving a firm squeeze. His lips press together, steady gaze focusing on the road but you could feel the way his leg slowly inches upwards as if he’s trying to lean further into your touch. Nails drag along the inner stitchings of the thigh area in a teasing manner before you pull your hand away, grinning to yourself.
“Tch. Brat.” Levi mutters with affection, once again trying to play off his squirming as simply adjusting. Levi finally pulls into an underground parking area of a wealthy building, driving slowly until he turns with ease into his private parking spot, no need to adjust. ‘Of course, his parking skills are perfect.’ You think to yourself. He unbuckles his belt quickly, pulling himself out of his seat and you watch him with a hungry gaze, wanting to soak in as many memories as you could. With your seatbelt undone, Levi opens your door, grasping onto your hand to help you out, keeping you steady.
Levi grabs your bag with his free hand, long fingers of his covering your hand and he smiles softly. “Let’s head inside, don’t want you to feel too cold.” The dark-haired male begins to pull you along in the direction of the elevator and presses the button. He glances towards you, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on your red lips and a low whine escapes you, only wishing to be kissed already. It’s like you’re both playing a game of who can survive the longest without it. It’s not that either of you is only thinking of sex. You like each other but, kissing is nice.
Eventually, the elevator doors slide open and you both step in. You watch as he presses the highest floor button and you hum softly. “No offence to elevators but I’m going to be annoyed if it breaks down like the other one. The restriction sucks.” You pout slightly and Levi laughs quietly, resting his hand now on top of your head.
“Acting like you didn’t enjoy the idea of being caught, huh?”
“Hmph. I enjoyed every second of it. As I’m sure you did. I’m sure they have a blast watching the tapes.”
“They can’t. I paid for them to erase it. I stood there and made sure it was erased. I don’t want anyone else to see you like that... Just me.”
Your lips form a small ‘o’ from hearing his possessive words. Possessiveness. It’s always been a weakness of yours, especially if it’s not toxic and just belonging to someone. Levi wants you to himself and you’re ready to give him everything. Besides, you both know you respect each other’s independence. You just didn’t like people interfering.
You chose to stay silent and he happily accepts that he knows you were affected by his words in some sweet way. The elevator doors open and you notice that there are only two doors. Both completely clean and one leading to stairs. The other is his front door and he walks over to it. Levi unlocks the door before opening it, allowing you to enter first. You step inside cautiously, surprised when the lights slowly turn on from recognising movement.
It’s a huge, open space. The ceilings are way up high and windows reach the ground to the ceiling in the dining area. The lounge room is taking up most of the space and the entryway to the kitchen is leaving an open space. Someone could easily sit in the dining area and talk to whoever is in the kitchen. It’s just all very modern and gorgeous. Especially with how everything is spotless and it’s like even decoration is perfectly placed.
That’s Levi and you adore it. You briefly glance at a hallway that must lead to other rooms and soon feel his hands dragging up slowly along your arms, coaxing you to turn around and gaze at him instead. “May I?” He asks quietly, the tips of his fingers now lingering on the knot around your coat. Your cheeks feel warm from how close he’s standing. You could almost count all of his long lashes. You press a chaste kiss to his chin. “Of course.”
His touch is so light and cautious. Not in the way that he’s afraid of hurting you. He just wanted to take his time. Both hands slowly undo the tie around your waist until finally, he begins to part the coat, sliding it down your arms. His breath hitches sharply from finally seeing the gorgeous dress that hugs around your chest and flows out. He gazes for a long while, blindly hanging up the coat before unbuttoning his suit jacket, happily drowning in your beauty. You could have worn something casual or basic and you still would have easily left him breathless and dazed.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Levi says, slender fingers grazing along your side, appreciating the silky feel of the fabric before the same fingers curl around your waist and pull you in with ease. His other hand cups the side of your neck, guiding you to look at him and your heart clenches at the stunning sight of a genuine smile appearing. “Beautiful.” He repeats before pressing a soft kiss to your painted lips.
Your heart could have exploded into fireworks from how fast it was racing. You wrap his arms around his neck instantly to pull him in, completely under a trance from his plush lips. He hums in response, pulling you closer in his embrace as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, lips moving slowly and savouring the much-needed kiss.
Levi pulls away and he scoffs lightly from seeing your pout. “Cute but, not going to work, pretty girl. It’s time I cook you dinner.” His hand strokes once down your hair before he begins to walk towards the kitchen and you happily follow, grinning wide. Your heart exploding from the kiss and now your entire being bursting with joy. He’s going to cook you dinner.
“You’re cooking for me? Wow, what did I do to score such a gentleman?” You sigh out dreamily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He playfully clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shrugging as he rolls up his sleeves to reveal his forearms. Levi then grabs the apron and it left you swooning even further, not realising it could even be possible. He wears an apron as he cooks, tight around his small waist. You watch rather intently as he washes his hands.
“Does spaghetti and garlic bread sound good? Would you prefer something else?”
He asks in his usual way too calm voice, turning the oven onto pre-heat before his hand lingers over the pantry doorknob, waiting for your response patiently. “Spaghetti sounds perfect. Is there anything I can help with?” You ask, not stepping into the kitchen just yet, afraid you might intrude on some personal space. Levi didn’t like the idea of making you cook on the first date night but he hesitates on rejecting when he looks over to see your natural pout and puppy-dog eyes. A new weakness has formed.
“...You can pour in the pasta once the water is boiling. Put an apron on and don’t hurt yourself.”
You grin widely, feeling happy from his warning and walking carefully in your heels until you’re next to him, grabbing the apron to put on along the way. You stand in front of the new pot of water, waiting for it to boil. As you wait, your eyes linger on Levi’s gorgeous hands expertly cutting up different herbs and vegetables that he needed, neatly arranging them on the board before he quickly slides in the tray that contains the garlic bread into the oven. Levi moves to stand next to you, setting a pan next to the pot and turning it on. His grey eyes shift onto yours, blindly sprinkling oil across the pan surface. He clears his throat, speaking carefully yet honestly.
“I’m happy you came over, Y/N. Giving me time to properly get to know you. Even though, since day one I already knew that I’d be wrapped around your finger, despite ignoring it.”
A low whine escapes you, only wishing you could give affection but he gave you a mission: the pasta. You avoid his piercing gaze out of shyness, carefully pouring the pasta into the boiling water. The corners of Levi’s lips twist to form a knowing smirk, using the wooden spoon to separate the mincemeat in the pan, waiting for it to be cooked.
“I’m sorry I thought you hated me—. I just think I tried to latch onto something because I was scared that if I embraced my attraction and— developing feelings for you, I’d end up hurt. Sorry for the bratty attitude, too.”
You grumble out quietly, feeling a little sheepish. Your breath hitches when you feel his warm palm pressed against your lower back, smoothing over gently before he loosely hugs your waist. His presence alone is dominating, taking everything in you to fight the urge to fall completely into his arms. He’s confident and you adore that. “It’s alright, I ended up putting you into place in my special way. I’m no artist who is perfect with words, Y/N but, I’ll be here to reassure whenever it’s needed. I don’t plan to hurt you, I’m too hooked up on you.”
Your knees are quick to feel weak from his sweet words, gripping onto the counter the stable yourself as you continue to stir the pasta. No one has ever looked at you before like Levi does. You’ve only ever felt pain from terrible experiences but he was here, looking at you and not minding the idea of you needing reassurance whenever your mind is too quick to think something. Levi’s free hand pats the top of your head, his fingertips gently rubbing against your scalp. “It’s alright now.” He mumbles before focusing on cooking once again.
The silence is comfortable. You’ve always been someone who was rather scared of being surrounded by silence, preferring to have sound and people talking but, silence feels right when it comes to Levi Ackerman. He helps you appreciate and see the beauty in being able to just stand there, next to each other and not needing to always talk.
You watch him in action. You assumed he enjoyed cooking and your biased mind is only thinking about how he makes himself look even more attractive by pouring in pasta sauce (looks already home-made) and sprinkling herbs across the surface. So deeply focused, unbothered by the strands of his silky hair that falls over his grey eyes. You smile to yourself, pleased that you get to admire him over the weekend.
Levi’s hand grips onto your waist, gently guiding you aside before he carefully scoops up one of the pieces of pasta, letting it dangle as he lightly blows on it before taking a bite, testing to see if it’s been properly boiled. “Mm, good. I’ll give you an A+ on the pasta stirring skills.” He jokes, grabbing the handles of the pot and pours everything into the strainer that sits in the sink. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were smiling, simply watching as he uses tongs to scoop up the spaghetti, arranging it neatly in two bowls before pouring the completed sauce over the noodles, sprinkling herbs as a garnish on top.
You follow obediently once more as if you’re a lost puppy latching onto the older male. You walk into the dining area, finally noticing that it’s already set up with pure white tablecloths and serviettes neatly folded with cutlery arranged straight. He sets the bowls down, one at the head of the table and the other next to it. “Wait.” He stops you from sitting down, standing behind you as you stop yourself from sitting, cheeks feeling warm when he swiftly unties the apron, carefully pulling it over your head before he pulls out your seat. “Th-Thanks.” You couldn’t help but stutter and Levi feels rather pleased with himself to be able to easily fluster you with small gestures. The dark-haired male helps push your chair in, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head.
It was something that came so naturally and that’s why it left the quiet male feeling a little flustered himself, confidence lingering but still avoiding eye contact briefly. He finds himself yearning for you and even though he’s never been overly affectionate, he just couldn’t stop himself. “Let me collect the garlic bread. I won’t be too long, love.” He murmurs, squeezing your shoulders before he returns to the kitchen, swiftly stacking everything into the dishwasher after a quick rinse before finally, using oven mitts to pull the tray out and prepare the garlic bread.
You wait patiently, heels mindlessly tapping on the floor and gazing at the meal before you. It looks perfect and you’re not surprised. You glance up when Levi sets the garlic bread in the middle and settles down in his seat. Naturally, your heart flutters, remembering the kiss to the top of your head. The veins in his forearms are visible as he stretches his arms, gazing at you rather intensely. “Waiting for permission or something?” He asks teasingly, picking up his fork.
You huff quietly but still wait. You rather like the idea of receiving permission from the older man. “Eat, Y/N. We’ve cooked well.” He finally grants, twirling spaghetti with his fork and slurps up some of the noodles. You mimic him, eyes widening from the taste of the spaghetti. It’s delicious. The saltiness of the dish the right amount to not leave your face scrunching, enjoying the lingering tomatoey taste. He’s studying your expression, hoping for something good and trying to ignore how he’s fixated on your beauty.
“Holy crap, this is amazing!”
Levi snorts from your choice of words, resting his forehead against the back of his hand, happy for your approval. You both continue to take your time with the meal and talk. You learn new things about one another. How he likes cats. How you enjoy curling up with a good book, just like him. That neither of you has a preference for sweet or savoury; both are nice. You even learn that neither of you drinks alcohol. You didn’t see the appeal and would rather stick to what you already like. He heavily prefers tea, which you knew was a given since he always made cups of tea at work.
Both of your bowls were slowly starting to become empty and your chairs close to each other as possible. Levi found the courage again to rest his hand on your thigh beneath the table, thumb caressing over the sheer tights once more, eyes never leaving your visage. It leaves you squirming in your seat, yearning for more of his touch. His gaze almost becomes heavy with desire. Desire to have you in any way possible in life. At one point, his hand came up to cup your chin, the same thumb cautiously wiping away the sauce that lingered around the corner of your lips.
“Time for dessert. I’ll be back.”
You perk up a little, smiling. Levi is truly spoiling you tonight and you’re happy to try anything, though you’re finding yourself more eager to spend the night with him. To simply be in his arms because you remember how he held you in the elevator briefly, leaving you to feel safe for once in your life. Levi carried the dirty dishes and of course, stacked them away into the dishwasher. Usually, he prefers to wash dishes himself but there’s no time. He wanted to spend every minute with you.
It didn’t take him long to return. A soft gasp escapes your lips from seeing a slice of the most beautiful cake before you, noticing the swirls of chocolate cake mixed through with the vanilla, small puffs of cream along the top. “Did you—?” You ask, noticing that Levi’s hands are gold so it wouldn’t be surprising if he did bake something. It prompts a rather sad sigh from the older male, settling down into his seat. “Sadly, no. I didn’t have time to bake. I do love the idea of you eating anything I make but this will have to do. It’s from this cafe I visit often for tea. It’s lovely.”
You hum in response, only picking up the dessert fork when he picks up his own and finally, you taste the cake. It took every ounce of you to stop yourself from moaning dramatically just from the heavenly taste of the sweet cake filling your mouth. The texture of the cream mixing with the cake is so smooth, melting in your mouth and almost leaving you in a trance just from how good it was.
Levi huffs a little, taking a bite of his own. “Is this better than my spaghetti or something? Tch.” He mumbles quietly and it prompts you to giggle, wondering if he was jealous. It’d be cute if he was, after all. “Definitely not. Your spaghetti wins the competition this time but it was tough.” You scoop up the last bit of cream, oblivious to the bit that smears across your bottom lip but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Levi.
He’s staring, quietly setting down his fork. “Y/N..” Levi murmurs, dragging his chair closer until your knees touch. It leaves a shiver running up your spine, tingling at the back of your neck and itching to be touched by the man. His palm cups the back of your neck, the tips of his long fingers threading through the hair at your nape before he pulls you in for a tender kiss.
It leaves you weightless. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his dress pants, arching towards him so naturally as you drown in the sweetness that is Levi Ackerman. His wet tongue easily drags across your bottom lip to collect the leftover cream before his teeth latch onto the lower tier to give a teasing tug. You wanted it to last for eternity but, he pulls away.
“Do you want to—“
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
“Y/N. Don’t be so quick to say yes, I could have asked if you wanted me to murder you.”
“If that’s how I go, it’d be a blessing.”
“Oh my god, brat.”
Levi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose but he couldn’t stop himself from your silliness. You laugh, nose scrunching slightly before you stand up, pushing him back against the chair before you gracefully swing your leg over the other side and sit down, easily straddling his lap. It causes your dress to inch upwards, exposing your soft skin above the ends of your thigh-high stockings but not far enough, your body being a tease for the older male with the hot gaze. He’s staring directly down at your thighs, admiring the supple flesh and how nice it must be to squish them with his firm grip.
The tips of his fingers drag along the thick outline of the stockings, tongue darting between his lips. His mind feels intoxicated, drunk off the thoughts of you finally beneath him and to have time to properly make you feel good. A better version of heaven that a slice of cake could never give. “Do you want to go to bed? Would you prefer to watch television? I don’t watch much but..” He trails off, wanting to hear your answer.
You truly adore the vision in your head. Being able to curl up in his arms and mindlessly watch some film or documentary but, if you were going, to be honest to yourself... You didn’t want to wait anymore. Levi has been a gentleman. How he handled you in the elevator, though some may not agree that such behaviour was gentleman-like; it was in your mind. He always waited for consent and handled you with care despite the dominating roughness that lingered. He gave you pleasure. He even dropped you off at home. The way he was reassuring and would go out of his way to message you, show his intentions of wanting you. How he picked you up, gave you a gorgeous bouquet before taking you here and cooking dinner. He’s the epitome of being a gentleman and everything you want in a man. He could reveal a sadistic side in bed later on in the future and you’d adore it just as much because he respects you and already shows that he just wants you relaxed and happy.
There’s a sense of nervousness in his gaze, anxious about your eyes and even if he tried to hide it, you could see. “Let’s go to bed, Levi. I want— I want to go to bed with you.” Your voice is a mere whisper in the night, your cravings to touch him growing deeper, desire festering in your gut. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him in close. “You can touch all of me. Can I touch all of you, as well?” You ask, your warm cheek leaning on the top of his tilted head as he leans towards your neck, breathing in your alluring scent so deeply.
He’s endeared that you asked for consent, as well as giving it. Usually, people tend to look past the need for verbal consent but it’s something Levi always adores hearing. Permission to give everything to each other. His hands slide along your sides, ghosting along your ass cheeks before he cups just beneath them, easily hoisting you up and guiding your legs to wrap properly around him. You could have gotten whiplash to know he could carry you as if you were weightless. You always worried about your weight but he’s strong. You never really knew it since the majority of his toned and beautiful muscles hide behind office clothes but you always assumed he regularly works out. The thought causes a whine to escape your lips.
“Yeah, you can touch me. Always, my darling.” Levi hums, gazing at you with all of the adoration in the universe in his steel-grey eyes. The pet name makes your heart flutter and you hug him even tighter, squeezing your legs around him as you cling. He snorts quietly, not minding that you’re clinging. He finds himself liking it. It makes him feel wanted and needed by you.
Your cheek rests on his shoulder, fingers curled around them from the back and red lips naturally pouting. You briefly admire the paintings on the walls as he walks towards the master bedroom. Levi flicks the lights on once he carried, quickly adjusting the lighting so it’s not too bright. It’s soft and perfect for the mood. “Mm, suits you.” You comment, a smile hidden in your tone as you look at the rows of books, to the circular table and chair near the tall windows and door that leads to a balcony. You could already picture him sitting there, drinking a cup of tea and enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun on his skin.
“Yeah? I like things organised, you know that.” Levi says, finally lowering you onto the queen-sized bed, hand resting on your back to make sure you’re not dropped too harshly. Him treating you like some princess for the first. A night together only leaves your heart soaring. You would be happy with anything he gives you. Happy with whatever he’s in the mood for and one day, you could show him that you’ll easily fulfil any fantasy of his. You do love being his princess already, though. Even if you wouldn’t dare whisper the confession so he could hear.
His arm wrapped around your waist hoists you further up onto the bed until your head is sinking comfortably into pillows, strands of hair fanning out across the surface of the clean sheets. Levi turns his head back, quickly unlacing his dress shoes and letting them drop to the carpet floor before he finally turns to look at you.
“Wow..” Levi whispers to himself, fingertips ghosting along your bare legs. Dragging up along your calves and around to your thighs, dipping to the inner area. Your dress is bunched up between them, covering the lace panties that already begin to feel damp just from having his piercing yet warm gaze on you. You shyly look away but he cups your chin, guiding your face back so you meet his eyes.
“You know before you came into my life..”
Levi pauses, hands now dragging up your covered stomach, not be daring just yet to pull the dress up. He’s worshipping you. The short male was going to take his time with you in and out of the dress you bought specifically for him. It leaves you light-headed but still focusing, eager to hear his thoughts.
“Everything was black and white. Until I met you, Y/N. Now all I see is colour.”
Your eyes glaze over with unshed tears, heart-thumping fast against your chest. Levi’s hand is pressed there, fingers splayed out and he could feel every beat against his palm.
“Life is beautiful with you in it. Let me show you.”
There were unspoken words still. Levi has never viewed himself as a hopeless romantic. He’s logical. Always about reality but when you walked in, all kinds of thoughts blossomed in his mind, plaguing with beauty. “Levi..” You whine out softly and he smiles for a moment, his free hand tenderly cupping your cheek and thumb grazing lightly over your lower eyelid, wiping away the few tears.
His lips connect with yours and you bring up your right hand to the back of his head, fingers dragging along the soft undercut before threading through his hair to tug on. Levi groans quietly, his tiers slotting in between yours with ease and both of your lips move slowly against his and your bodies are crushing against each other, desperate to feel one another. The short male knows how to kiss you until you’re breathless. Your lipstick is smearing across your lips from the eagerness, neither of you cared. Lips moving so slow yet deep as he devours the kiss, his daring tongue dragging between your lips before you willingly part them and he licks in.
It sounds wet and it causes your heart to race. His tongue dragging over every inch of your wet cavern, mapping out everything as if he never wants to forget. His own hands brushing along the sides of your neck, down along your shoulders and then down your arms. A featherlight touch and leaves you shivering. The kiss becomes desperate for you both. Firm enough to feel the slight ache and fast. Levi pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting.
He always adored the way you looked so completely fucked already just from a kiss. Levi plants a kiss to your once more swollen lips, coated in his saliva. “Beautiful.” He mutters, taking hold of your left leg to guide up onto his shoulder. Levi’s hands drag along the stockings, pressing a kiss to your inner ankle before easily unhooking the clasp of the heel, tugging the shoe off and discarding it to the floor. You watch him with clouds of lust over your eyes, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous male, who only takes his time.
Levi does the same for your right leg, hooking it over his shoulder, kissing the inside of your ankle before discarding the shoe. Hands rubbing up and down the tights as he stares at them, fixated.
“Do you like the stockings?” You ask through a soft voice and he smirks slightly, nails grazing along with the fabric. “Oh, I adore them.” He responds, fingers hooking into the left stocking. “But, for tonight, I want to strip you bare and see you. Will you allow me?” He asks, waiting. You nod your head frantically, squirming on the sheets.
“That’s my girl.”
You groan quietly, feeling you could explode from your giddiness just from that sentence alone. Your legs are resting over his shoulders still but it doesn’t stop him from finally tugging the first tights down, exposing your smooth flesh, there are faint stretch marks across your thighs and he could see them properly, sparking insecurity. Levi removes the last of the pair before easing your legs back down onto the bed.
His fingers brush along the faint marks and he shifts his gaze to your face. “I especially love these. Good thing I got rid of the tights.” Levi says as your hands shyly cover your face. You feel fingers instantly around your wrists, tugging your hands away. “No hiding.” Levi orders with a quiet yet firm tone and you nod wordlessly, face feeling hot.
Pleased with your obedience, he leans down to kiss you once more, the weight of his body leaning against you. “Levi, you already make me feel so good.” You mumble against his lips, thighs squeezing together. His lips press along your jawline, nipping at the flesh before his tongue drags slowly along the shell of your ear, whispering.
“That’s all I want. In and out of the bedroom.”
Your fingers curl around his tie that’s between your bodies, playfully tugging. “You have nothing off. Unfair.” You huff, beginning to loosen it. Levi rolls his eyes but there’s a smile lingering on his lips. Quietly, he pulls it over his head but, instead of discarding it, he loops it around your wrists and tighten, leaving you to gasp out of surprise and unable to pull your hands out as his grip stays firm on the other end.
There’s something that ignites in you. The urge to try bondage with this beautiful man one day. Properly. You keep your tied hands against your chest. His lustful gaze shifts to the bound hands before they close, his wet tongue dancing lightly across your bare neck between open-mouth and hot kisses. “You’d look so pretty in rope, Y/N. Just a thought.” He teases, warm breath fanning across the saliva and leaves you shivering. Levi knows the power he holds over you now and he uses it with ease. He kept his hold on the black tie and you could only shift, enjoying the feeling of the fabric digging into your wrists. He’s nipping harsh enough to allow small yet dark bruising to appear across your neck, littering with the possessive marks down to your exposed collarbones.
Levi briefly checks on you, wanting to see if there are any signs of pleasure and that you weren’t uncomfortable. You definitely weren’t. Your eyes closed and swollen lips parted as you pant. A sight he’s growing to love. He truly loves to worship you. As his goddess from his version of heaven. The flat of his tongue drags across your collarbones, gently blowing air until you’re whimpering. He lets out a content hum and the tip of his tongue dips between your breasts and drags down teasingly until his tongue meets fabric.
The dark-haired man pulls away, now kneeling between your spread legs and a hum of approval escapes. You looked adorable with your hands bound by his tie, lips pouting as you only want to touch him in return. Deciding to be lenient on this special night, his finger wiggles between your wrist and the tie before pulling until it loosens, throwing it onto the floor.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl, I guess I can please you a little.” Levi teases once more, knowing full well that it was going to be an immense amount of pleasing later on. His long fingers come up to the top button of his shirt and finally, he begins to unbutton. Slowly. Ever so slowly and you could have ripped the shirt if you weren’t being so obedient right now, heart thrilled with the praise.”
You watch as his toned chest is exposed at first, looking like the perfect place to rest your head on and succumb to sleep. Then, his chiselled abs appear; looking so firm from regular workouts. “Hell—“ You cut yourself off, being in absolute awe and breathless as he tosses his shirt aside.
Levi cocks his head to the side, waiting. The smirk on his lips is tugging at your heartstrings. He’s personally always viewed his health as important, though he never really worked out just for a gorgeous figure. It was just a bonus that he doesn’t often think about. “You’re so hot and I want to touch you, please.” You quietly beg, hoping the puppy-dog eyes would do the trick as your fingertips brush along the lines of his abs.
“Not yet. I like making you wait. Getting all needy. It’s still my turn.” Levi leans down to press kisses along the valley of your breasts and there was no time to complain before you’re shivering from his heated touch. “Lean up.” He commands and you immediately oblige, lifting your upper body and share a kiss with the older male as he unhooks the tiny clasp before slowly unzipping the dress.
Levi pulls away to watch as the straps fall off of your shoulders, the dress pooling down your waist and revealing the lace bra that just covers up your sensitive nipples. He exhales out slowly, taking in the sight as his hands slip under the dress, waiting for you to lay back down so he could wiggle the dress off of you, leaving you left in only the lingerie set. The lingerie is black, so the wet patch on your panties is barely visible, squirming when you feel the fabric ride up between your cheeks.
He’s staring for a very long time, hands rubbing up and down slowly and he’s in his world, admiring your body that he only wishes to kiss every inch of, leave you whining for more as you arch up into his touch. “You’re so beautiful. Leaving me so speechless, I just want to do everything for you.” Levi mutters and you bite down on your lower lip, not having the patience to allow him to strip you off completely.
So, your arms reach behind your back, grasping onto your bra as you slowly unhook it, still staring up at him and noticing how his grey eyes seem to darken. The straps drag along your arms and finally, you expose your breasts to the male that you have been dreaming of for months. “Fuck..” He mutters under his breath, shifting himself to lean over you as his hands cup your breasts to give a tender squeeze.
Heaven. He is in heaven as he appreciates the softness of your breasts, thumbs caressing just around the edge of your areolas. You couldn’t hold back the soft whimper as he makes contact with your sensitive buds and he takes that as an invitation to wrap his soft lips around the left nub to suck teasingly on, pinching the right one and twisting slightly. He feels his cock throbbing against his briefs, causing him to groan quietly from the ache.
His wet muscle swirls around the left nipple, sucking briefly and peppering kisses against it. He wants to take his time with worshipping your breasts alone, enjoying the way your fingers thread through his hair to harshly pull on. He scatters kisses across your left breast, trailing over to the right and sucking on the supple flesh to allow more bruises to blossom, wanting to mark you up completely.
“O-Oh, Levi. Pl-Please.”
You stutter out weakly between moans, your legs loosely wrapping around his waist to pull in. His hips are angled down and you could feel the way his crotch is press against your inner thigh and so you shift your leg to rub against his throbbing erection, causing him to nip at your right nipple as he groans out softly. You’re in complete bliss, long lashes fluttering before your eyelids close, focusing on his touch.
Levi’s tongue drags along the bud, hands pressing on the sides of your breasts to squish them together, making you arch your back and shivers spreading across your body. Your hair was already messy from your squirming. You lost count of the minutes of how long he spent just kissing and groping your breasts, hands moving to massage them gently and causing your pussy to feel so wet. It’d probably cause a damp spot to appear on his pants too if he just angled himself a bit further.
The short male finally pulls away, sighing out hard. His lips look swollen and glistening from his saliva. Levi looked like the one completely fucked out now, chest rising and falling with each pant, completely wrapped up in his addiction that is you. The air of the room is against the saliva across your breasts, making you shiver even further from the pleasant coldness. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in for another kiss and he obliges, kissing you deeply with all of the need he feels for you.
Gracefully, you roll both of you over until you’re sitting on top of him, only wearing your panties. “Y/N..” He calls out softly, hands resting on your thighs and squeezes. “You can give me more pleasure soon but it’s your turn now.” You reason with him and he couldn’t deny your touch any longer.
“Tch, how could I deny what you want, love. Such a princess.” He murmurs, not being the type to use pet names regularly but with you, they fall from his lips so easily. “My princess.” He corrects himself, the muscles in his arms flexing for a moment as he stretches. You shift until your covered pussy is directly against his covered cock and slowly, you roll your hips forward and coax a moan out of the gorgeous male from the sweet friction.
Your hands are ghosting along with his beautiful figure, wanting to map it out with your touch to remember and he is the most beautiful you’ve ever met, You bend over to press a chaste kiss to his lips, slowly licking into his open mouth and flicking your tongue against his before you trail kisses to his chin and then along to the right, nipping at his sharp jawline. He slowly breathes in, trying to keep himself composed despite the desperation to release his erection from its confinements.
You couldn’t help but giggle now that he’s the one at mercy, biting firmly on his pale flesh, sucking hard enough to produce your possessive marks, scattering them across his neck and chest, tongue soothing over the subtle pain the bite marks left behind. Levi’s fingers brush through your hair, pulling as he arches up into your touch, muttering curses beneath his breath. The flat of your tongue drags across his nipples and you whine from the surprising tug on your hair but only encourages you to tease him further, kissing over them and suckling gently before you leave a trail of wet kisses slowly down his chest, pressing your face against the abdomen and breathing in his comforting scent that almost lulls you to relax if it wasn’t for how needy you felt.
Finally, your mouth makes contact with the top of his belt and your body is laying between his legs, glancing up to see the dark hickeys that spread across his upper body and you admire the masterpiece that is Levi Ackerman. Levi breathes in deeply once more as he watches you unbuckle his belt, dragging the strap through the buckle until it becomes undone. You hoist yourself up for a moment, wiggling down his ironed slacks, licking your lips at the sight of the obvious bulge, whimpering softly.
“I bet you have the prettiest cock, Levi. I can’t wait to feel it throb in my hand and taste it with my mouth. ‘m feeling so needy for you.”
You purr out softly and his gaze is hot on you, never daring to look away. The back of his hand caresses your warm cheek before firmly gripping your chin, voice soft and full of adoration for you.
“Show me what you can do.”
The words send shivers up your spine, tugging his pants off completely and kicking them aside. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning down to nuzzle your face against his bulge, feeling his cock twitch beneath the thin fabric and it makes you tilt your head to drag your tongue flat across the entire length of it, leaving a wet stripe behind on the briefs. “God..” Levi mumbles in awe at the adorable sight.
He lifts his hips with ease when your fingers hook beneath the elastic, hissing in response when you playfully snap it against his flesh, watching a light shade of red appear from the contact. With no patience left in you, you finally slide his briefs down until his thick cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach.
Oh. You were right. His cock is beautiful. It was big but not scarily huge. Long enough that you know it will fill you up in all the right places. Beautifully thick and slightly curved with protruding veins. It also looks clean, especially with his pubes neatly trimmed around the base. Something stupidly rare among the male beings. You love that he cares so deeply about hygiene and keeping clean.
“I was right.” You purr once more, wrapping your fingers around the base of his thickness and feeling it pulsate within your snug grip. Pre-cum is already leaking at the rosy tip. He’s gritting his teeth to prevent himself from making sounds as pleasure surges up through his body from finally feeling something. You slowly stroke upwards, admiring the weight of his cock in your hand, thumb rubbing in circular motions around the sensitive tips and he finally slips out a moan of your name.
Your heart flutters from the sweet sound. “Lube?” You ask gently and he manages to gesture towards his drawers. You lean over to open it, grabbing the small bottle of lubricant. You wanted this to be as pleasurable as possible for him, squeezing a generous amount onto your hand. “I hate being impatient but hurry.” Levi huffs and you quickly wrap all of your fingers around the base. You begin to steadily stroke your hand along with his throbbing cock, your hold nice and snug. The lubricant easily covering the length and making each stroke dry of painful friction and leaving Levi melting into the mattress.
Levi has always been sensitive and easily wrapped up in pleasure. He keeps his head tilted back on the pillows and focuses completely on the warmth of your hand surrounding his cock, leaving water-based lubricant dripping along the length of it. You bite down on your lip, feeling blessed to be able to witness him visibly relax and all thanks to the pleasure that you give. Your wrist flicks with each stroke, gliding your hand up to the very tip and down towards the base. Unable to control yourself, you lower yourself until your tongue could swirl around the head of his pulsating cock. He groans in response, gazing at you beneath his half-closed lids, chewing on his lower lip.
His stomach is taught when his body tenses as he prevents himself from shivering. You continue to swirl your tongue around the head and pressing teasingly against the leaking slit. You faintly taste saltiness mixed with the sweetness of the lubricant before you finally wrap your lips with faint marks of your lipstick, around the head of his cock.
“Fuck, Y/N..” He breathes out softly from the wet warmth of your mouth and you bob your mouth at a slow pace still, not daring to pick up the pace just yet. Your head tilts forward as you slide your lips down to meet the top of your stroking hand, lips dragging as you move back up along his cock, now steadily moving to match the strokes of your hand around the base of his cock.
You slurp up the saliva that threatens to seep out the corners of your lips, spitting it directly onto his cock for that brief moment you pull your mouth off, only to wrap your lips around too eagerly and hungrily, move your mouth along Levi’s throbbing cock. The wet sounds become audible the quicker you move, feeling his fingers tighten their grip on your hair and causing you to whine in response to the pain, only loving it as it’s a reminder of how succumbed he is to the ecstasy of your lips. You keep your jaw slack, pushing further and further until the head of his length presses against the back of your throat. He moans from feeling the velvety feeling of your wet inner cheeks rubbing against the sides of his cock, your tongue pressed flat against the underside.
You don’t have much experience yet and so you gag around his cock as his hips automatically buck and he pushes briefly on the back of your head, not daring to force his cock further in without discussion. His grey eyes roll back, lips parted as he breathes heavily. You swallow around his cock, feeling the ache in your jaw but not wanting to pull away. You rather love having your mouth stuffed full of Levi’s cock. You gag every time you bob your mouth down, one hand gripping onto his toned thigh and the other cupping his balls to give a massage, fondling gently. Your thighs clenched tight as your clit throbs, desperate for some kind of touch to your wet womanhood.
“Fuck, alright— Y/N.”
He groans out loudly, stomach feeling tight and toes curling as finally he feels that familiar urge to release but he pulls on your hair, your lips dragging along the thick cock before there’s an audible wet pop, a string of saliva connected from the head of his cock to your parted lips. You pout, wanting him to cum in your mouth. Saliva is dribbling down your chin and he finds that there is one kind of mess he loves at the moment and that’s you. Spit. Cum. Sweat. He’d love it all.
Your panting heavily and body is already feeling like jelly and he guides you on top of him, one hand cupping the back of your neck and his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against his beautiful naked body as he kisses you deeply, not phased by the taste of his pre-cum mixed with lube and spit. You melt into his embrace, cupping his chin.
“Such a good girl. You did so well.”
You mewl softly in response to his praise, the words tattooed on your mind forever as you kiss him once more. Levi seems pleased, still hazy from his pleasure and god did he want to paint your throat white but he didn’t want to finish before you. He will always hold himself off. You try to angle yourself until the head of his cock is pressed against your panties, pouting. “Please, just wan’ be filled up by you.” You plead but it falls onto ears that refuse to listen to your adorable pleading.
“Oh, love. I’m not done with you. You only paused it all.”
Swiftly, he turns you around and you gasp out of surprise, finding that you’re laying on your back once more, gazing up at him. He smiles softly, cupping your cheeks as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, puffy from so much kissing. He takes his time as he kisses back down, pecking over the hickeys, down the valley of your breasts once more and teasingly pinches your nipples, causing you to whimper and arch up into his touch. His hands are ghosting along your sides, caressing your stomach that he presses more kisses, leaving them wet until finally, he’s the one between your legs. Both hands are firm on your inner thighs, forcing them to stretch and stay in place. Levi’s nails dig into the flesh of your thighs and you enjoy the slight sting of pain they provide.
You choke out softly when his fingers drag along your covered womanhood, feeling hot with both the embarrassment of how wet you sound but also how Levi reacts. He reminds you of a beast that has been starved for a long time, ready to swallow you whole and drown you in rapid waves of ecstasy. “You’re drenched. Are you that easily turned on from attention and sucking my cock?” He teases and leaves you stuttering and searching for words but the filth he says only drives you further down the rabbit hole.
Levi is versatile when it comes to bedroom activities. He loves to worship and bring you joy but if he’s able to tease you with a brief visit of his sadistic side, he will. He finds it cute to see you all frazzled and simply whining, arching for his touch. The corners of his lips curl up into a smile, content that he can drive you to the point of dripping so much with barely touching your pussy.
Not wanting to wait any longer, Levi’s pearly whites latch onto the hem of the lace panties, hands slipping beneath your figure to encourage you to lift your hips before he begins to drag down the panties with only his teeth and a little bit of your wiggling. Only Levi could make such action look so graceful and out of this world. He takes hold of the panties with only his index finger and holding them up and your hands almost flew up to your face too high as you realised that they were almost completely wet from your juices. In your defence, you were wearing them for a long ass while as he kissed your body, leading to his cock shoved down your throat.
Levi hums, flicking them onto the floor before he’s laying down on his toned stomach, arms wrapping around your thighs from beneath, hands tenderly massaging the soft flesh. The dark-haired male leans in close until he begins to leave a trail of featherlight kisses along your inner thighs that quiver in response. “The most beautiful, Y/N.” Levi whispers as if only wanting you to hear and not the world. Just for your ears. Intimacy is blossoming so easily between you both. So natural despite Levi not usually being the type to give it out so easily. For you, he’d give you the world.
Levi thinks he’s selfish, though. Giving you the world and yet, wanting to take you. Take you completely and make him his. Devoted to you and so incredibly possessive. Even though, he tries his best to hide it. If only he realised that to you, he is your world and you selfishly want him to yourself, as well.
A small smile appears when his soft lips drag along the faint stretch marks. Nearly anyone could get them and yet society shuns it. Not Levi. He wanted to remind you that every part of you is breathtakingly beautiful. His tongue slowly drags up closer to your dripping pussy, dipping between the area where your thigh meets it. So close but not enough. You huff, trying to angle yourself but he pulls away, repeating the delicate kisses across your other exposed thigh. Your fingers brush through his hair, pushing it up to expose more of his undercut; something you always found beyond attractive.
His right-hand ghosts over your other thigh and lightly slaps against the flesh, causing a sting to spread across and causing you to moan out for him, pulling on his hair firmly. Nails dig into the flesh before dragging up towards your womanhood and finally, he touches you. Two of his fingers dip between your slick folds to slowly spread and his breath hitches. You’re so wet. He watches as the wetness makes contact with the tips of his fingers and he rubs them against his thumb, admiring how slippery it feels. You watch intensely, eyes holding fire of lust as he smirks, bringing them up to his lips before he sucks the juices loudly off of his fingers, groaning in response to the taste.
“So damn sweet..” Levi comments before bringing his hand back to your cunt. Slender fingers drag slowly up and down, the tips between your folds and you feel your hole clench with the need to have something inside of you. You whimper quietly and suddenly your body jerks as pleasure surges through you, his thumb pressing down against your sensitive clit and rubbing gently in a circular motion.
You feel shivers race up your spine, body relaxing into the bed and toes curling. Levi keeps his eyes on you, drinking up your reactions as his fingers continue to tease along your folds before his index finger slowly presses against your entrance and eases in with the help of your slick. Your walls squeeze around his finger and he pumps it in and out at the same old pace, trailing kisses down your pussy until the very edge of your folds.
His eyes flutter close as his tongue dips in to gently flick against your pulsing clit, groaning at the sweet taste. His wrist turns with each push and pulls of his index finger, the middle finger now teasing around the edge of your entrance. You’re already wrapped up in pleasure as a whimpering cry escapes your bruised lips.
“Pl-Please, more!”
He obliges quickly. Levi’s switches out his index with both his middle and ring finger, fingering you slow and deep. The pads of his fingers rub against your warm, velvety walls and his tongue laps at your clit, flicking quickly before he drags long stripes from where his fingers are, up towards your clit that throbs with pleasure. You’re already slipping away and drowning in this heavenly feeling that he blesses you with.
Goosebumps appear along your arms and you’re shivering, weakly pulling on his hair, nails dragging along his scalp. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Levi groans against your dripping cunt, slurping up your juices hungrily and not bothered by how filthy he must seem in the moment. His fingers inside of you stretch out slightly, curling to find that sweet spot once more that he found so easily after work.
He found it almost instantly and knew when your upper body almost jerks upwards and gasping loudly. It’s overwhelming, always being sensitive to the pleasure but happily getting drunk with it. His lips twist to form an open-smile smirk, angling his fingers to continue to rub against that sweet spot inside of you, coaxing your orgasm further and further closer. Levi shifts his face down until his tongue can wiggle into your stretched hole with his long fingers, his moans causing pleasant vibrations.
Moans never stopped leaving you and whimpering cries are ripped out of you, head tilting to bury into the pillow. You feel his tongue dragging across the shallow walls of your pussy, still happily slurping up your juices. He’s ravishing you completely, wanting to paint your reactions in his brain for eternity. “Le— I need to—“ You try to warn him but he didn’t seem to care.
In fact, he wants you to cum. He wants you to cum and squirt all over him again except this time on his face. People always pictured as someone who hates any kind of form of mess. It’s not true. The mere idea of the girl he adores making such a wet mess is appealing to him. He handles it with ease. Sex is dirty. It’s sweaty. It’s wet. He loves it all. It’s natural. The only thing he hates is not being able to clean up after finishing. He wouldn’t be able to just lay there in the mess and ignore it. He wants both himself and you to feel clean and proper afterwards. So yeah, he’d love it if you made a mess on his face. The dark-haired male brings his tongue back up to swirl across your clit, fingers rapidly thrusting into you, consistently rubbing against your g-spot and pushing you further and further until you finally orgasm.
The fingers that were pressed into you, swiftly pull out as you felt your pussy clenching and your clit pulsating further than before. You did squirt. Harder than ever before and you didn’t think it was possible. It was messy as your juices spurt out from release, landing in heavy drops and splattering on the lower half of Levi’s face. He’s panting softly, not giving your body time to recover from your first climax before he’s burying his face between your thighs that now clench firmly on either side of his face.
You’re more sensitive than usual and so as his tongue drags thick stripes across your cunt, you choked back a sob, almost delirious from the amount of pleasure that continued to crash over you in waves. Your body trembles in the bed, muscles jerking and it’s like your breath is completely knocked out of your lungs from Levi’s relentless behaviour.
He didn’t care about your cum dripping from his face, only very content that he could make you squirt when he felt like it but what he loves? Overstimulation. Oh, it’s beautiful to him. The idea of making you come over and over, getting completely lost and even your cunt throbbing with pain from the repetitive orgasms. Levi lets out a low growl, tongue teasing your clit before trailing down to your clenching hole and he pushes his tongue past the rim of it, licking up along your walls.
It sounds incredibly wet but you found yourself turned on from experiencing an apparent starving man devouring your pussy even through the first orgasm. You’re panting heavily, weakly pulling on his hair, strands of your sticking to your temple thanks to sweat. “Levi, pl-please, I’ll—“
“I want you to.” He cuts you off gently, words muffled by his mouth pressed eagerly onto your cunt, lapping at the ribbed walls of your womanhood. You had no control this time. How could you? He’s pushing past what you usually handle naturally and god, you’re in heaven. Levi so badly wants to feel your tight heat wrap around his cock and squeeze but he wants to make you orgasm once more.
It only took a few minutes and you genuinely tried to hold it back but you’re wrapped tight around his beautiful fingers and he can tug at the strings, making you climax as many times as he pleases. You shudder hard, your mind wiped clean and only seeing stars for a moment as you orgasm. This time, it wasn’t as messy because he wasn’t stimulating your g-spot for some time but it all still felt so good, leaving you feeling hot and like jelly, barely able to move your shaking muscles.
There’s an ache behind this orgasm this time but you embrace it, finding that you rather love the pain wrapped up in the sweet pleasure of an orgasm. Your muscles are difficult to move and you naturally flinch from his tongue once more dragging up the folds of your cunt. Even with your mind-wiped and feeling completely fucked out, you wanted to finally feel Levi inside of him. You were still feeling so damn needy for the older male.
Levi kneels up, one hand giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze and the other rather casually wiping his face clean of your mess that still threatened to drip. The dark lust that clouds over his steel-grey eyes are matching yours. You both want more.
“You make me feel so good..”
You slur out quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck and he easily obliges when you pull him in. Levi presses a heated kiss to your lips, feeling your legs wrap around him and his hand glides up your leg, squeezing the side of your ass.
“My dumb baby. I adore that you already look so fucked and it’s only going to continue love. Do you want to continue? Not pushing you too far?”
Your heart flutters from the fact that he checks on you, even though you’re already trying to angle yourself to rub on his throbbing cock that you twitch against you.
“No condom. In me. Now.”
You attempt to command through a pout and Levi couldn’t help but snort, appreciating your attempt but he pulls away, making you lay completely on your back.
“No condom. Are you sure?”
“No! Wan’ your cum buried inside of me. Want it to drip out! Please?”
You ask with a sigh, ignoring how your body feels so weak yet so warm. You desperately need him inside of you, eager to push for a third orgasm since no other man has done that for you before. Let alone actually made you come. Levi bites back a groan, already picturing the pretty sight of your cunt dripping with his white sticky mess. His long fingers curl around the base of his cock and he shifts himself to kneel between your quivering thighs properly.
He pushes his hips forward, teasingly dragging his lubricated cock between your folds, gazing at your face when he slaps the first inch or so of his cock against your overly sensitive clit a few times. You gasp at the contact, hand coming up to grip onto his shoulder, nails digging harshly into the flesh. You whimper, addicted to the pain and Levi is memorising your cute reaction from such an obscene gesture. Levi may not be in his sadistic headspace but at the back of his mind, he could already see fantasies build-up of slapping your pussy directly and watching you squirm and whine from the pleasurable sting that leaves your pussy throbbing.
Now isn’t the time for that. He smiles softly, completely in awe of you. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance.
You’re flattered that he’s asking once more. Levi is always the gentleman, even though such hot and heavy moments. Just checking on you one more time. You nod your head eagerly and finally, he pushes the bulbous head of his cock past the tight rim of your hole and thankfully, the sting of the stretch is very subtle and you didn’t mind the ache of your overstimulated pussy, feeling completely relaxed beneath him.
Levi’s head falls forward, brows knitting together and eyes closing tight, lips parted to allow a moan to fall out from feeling the warmth of your pussy finally wrapping around the thickness of his cock, slowly as he takes his time pushing into you. You squeeze around his invading cock, feeling it stretch you out. Your juices as well as the lubricant making him slide in with no painful friction.
Levi completely bottoms out inside of you. His throbbing cock completely inside of you and he lowers himself against you, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other tenderly stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. You whimper and he gently shushes you, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips, not bothered by the smeared lipstick. “You feel so good, Y/N. So tight for me, hm?
A shaky breath escapes him, pressing you further against the mattress and he takes hold of your hand, lacing his long fingers with yours and giving a squeeze. It sort of grounds you despite your head being up in the clouds, tears sticking to your long lashes. Finally, Levi is filling you up and you were when his thick and beautiful cock could fill you up in the right places. The velvety walls slick with your wetness squeezes tight around his cock and pulling him just that tiny bit further. His thumb caresses your hand and both of you simply melt into the moment, feeling connected more than ever before.
His other hand cups your cheek, half-lidded gaze fulling of longing and you just know that you belong to him. Completely. His name carved in gold across your soul. Levi leans forward to press another kiss to your lips, slowly pulling his hips out and managing to stop himself from moaning too loud when your wells cling onto his cock, dragging. As if your body responds on its own and refuses to part.
“So fucking heavenly. Warm and tight, Y/N. Love being inside of you and filling you up. Going to fuck you so good, hm? Make you come again, can you handle that?”
His filthy words are magic to your ears, the same set of words buzzing in your mind and you whimper, tightening your hold on his hand that is linked with yours. “Take me, Levi. Swallow me whole and keep for eternity.” You whisper breathlessly and Levi accepts that as the sign to continue.
Levi fucks into you slow, wanting to savour the addicting feeling of your pussy clamping around him and the wet sounds that fill the empty space of the room. The dark-haired male is kissing along your neck once more. You could feel every pulsating moment of his hard cock when he slides in and out of you, hips moving gracefully with each thrust. Your mouth hangs open as broken moans escape, completely delirious and almost exhausted because of your previous orgasms.
It brought tears to your eyes and Levi thinks you look so pretty, enjoying the sight of the tears gliding down your warm cheeks. “Pretty. Such a pretty girl.” He grunts quietly, tongue dragging flat across the tears, collecting them and swallowing. You purr out his name, eyes barely able to keep focus but god, you love the feel of his cock fucking into you; fucking you dumb.
“Mm, fuck. My girl looks completely fucked out, hm? I’ll take care of you.”
It’s like his filter is off once he’s thrusting into you and you didn’t mind at all. You wanted to be the reason behind him momentarily losing his control. “Fa-ah!” He read your mind and snapped his hips forward, pushing all of his cock back into you, stretching you out and leaving you trembling. Your laced fingers with his become undone and you wrap your arms beneath his shoulders, nails dragging down his back.
All you could think was his name. Over and over. You could feel that it felt like your version of heaven despite the slight aches from your previous climaxes but that’s it. It was all feeling it. You couldn’t even form coherent sentences as he fucks faster into you; fast and deep. Always hitting the right spot that causes pleasure to surge through you. The sounds of his skin slapping firmly against yours joins your cries of ecstasy, sobbing with tears still appearing.
You didn’t want him to stop. He didn’t want to. Levi hisses quietly from feeling your nails break the skin of his back and leave faint scratch marks. His masochistic side thrilled from the sting of pain. “That’s it, love. Fuck— Doing so well for me.” Levi’s groan drags out, head tilting back for a moment when he feels your walls clench along with his pulsating cock.
The dark-haired male gazes down at you, tenderness sneaking through the clouds of lust. He never thought of himself as attracted to the idea of breaking someone in from too much pleasure and having them babbling between tears and moaning his name but now, it’s becoming one of his favourite things to do easily. Levi’s hands grip firmly onto your hips, holding you down and drags his cock slowly out of you until only his leaking tip is in, juices dripping from his cock already before he slams into you, watching as your breasts jiggle with each hard impact of his thrusts.
You turned into a completely fucked out, a dumb girl who couldn’t do anything but enjoy every wave of pleasure crashing over you, bringing you closer to your third orgasm. Somehow you managed to hold it, biting down on his shoulder weakly but he pushes you back down, a brief kiss to your forehead. Such a sweet gesture that doesn’t line up with the hard movements of his hips.
“Good girl. Nearly— Nearly there.”
Levi breathes out his praise heavily, sweat against his temples and his abdomen tensing as he holds back his own orgasm as well, not wanting to finish just yet. He’s too addicted to you. Levi is completely addicted to how the velvety ribbed walls of your pussy are dripping and clenching to his long cock that drills into you. His thrusts are relentless, one hand coming to cup your right breast and squeeze harshly, slapping it lightly to watch the soft tissue jiggle even further.
Your eyes go almost cross-eyed as you look up at him, saliva dribbling down your chin as you whimpered out his name, barely able to roll your hips to meet each of his direct thrusts, his cock easily going in deep and he’s grunting every time he thrusts forward, balls slapping against your ass. It’s filthy and raw but the intimacy between you both is still there, gazing at each other out of fondness despite you feeling like your head is empty and fucked out. The squelching sound only adds to the filthiness, feeling his hand cupping your chin and fingers digging into your cheeks.
He slurs out softly, drunk off of the feeling of your pussy and you obediently open your mouth, eyes appearing glassy. Levi leans in close, dragging his tongue into your wet tongue lazily before he pulls away slightly. He gathers the spit in his mouth before he spits it out into your wet cavern. You let out a pleased mewl before you swallow his saliva, giggling between your moans.
He’s smiling at how delirious you’ve become, grunting as his hips stutter for a moment when you squeeze around his cock once more as if wanting to milk his cum straight out of veiny cock. “Cu- ah, nn—“ You blabber out, your stomach feeling hot and tight with the need to orgasm, barely able to hold onto him, arms weak and by your head.
“Come for me, Y/N.”
A shiver runs up your spine and once more you melt, body feeling like jelly. Your walls spasm around his cock, repeatedly clenching with your clit throbbing. Your body feels numb and you could barely keep your eyes open from the orgasm, feeling so, so good and floaty but it hurts, not used to coming multiple times. You like it. You like it a lot.
The feeling of your slick walls squeezing around his cock is enough to send him over the cliff, crashing down into his ocean of pleasure. He’s shuddering, biting down on his lip to muffle the moans that drag out of his chest. The short male is hunched forward until his forehead is pressing against your shoulder, his slow thrust now sloppy as he finally releases inside of you, the hot sticky cum painting your walls and filling you up.
You whine softly when you feel him pumping inside of you, weakly holding onto him still and you both slump against the bed. Your hair is messy and tangled with sweat, your body feeling warm and it took everything in you to not fall asleep right there from exhaustion. Levi’s hand is soothingly rubbing along your side, warm breath fanning across your neck as he mumbles reassuring praises.
Levi stays inside of you for a good few minutes, lips brushing against your jawline. The silence is comfortable once more, something you embrace easily. “Don’t fall asleep, love.” He whispers, gazing at you with warmth. The tears on your face are dried up, eyes droopy and you manage to smile. You’re slowly coming down from your third high, nuzzling against him and your thoughts now becoming more clear.
You wonder if you did well. If he enjoyed it as much as he did because for you, this was the best sex you’ve ever had. Yeah, it was a little filthy and raw. You’re both littered with hickeys and you eagerly swallowed his spit when his soft tone commanded you to. It was sloppy and the sheets are wet with your mess and even so, everything felt so perfect and even romantic. He was beautiful the way he worshipped every inch of your body, letting you feel wanted for once. Levi treated you with respect, something you never had.
Tears appear once more, both relief and doubts washing over you and Levi pull back slightly when he heard your sniffling. Ah, you were experiencing a minor sub drop after coming down from your high. It’s natural for something like this to happen. He smiles softly, cupping your cheek as he presses reassuring kisses to your lips. His reassurance always came in small gestures and services but for you? He’d give you the world.
“My good girl, you made me feel so good. You must be so tired but we need to have a bath, hm? Nod if you understand.” His thumbs brush away the tears and he slowly pulls his now soft cock out of you, noticing how some of his cum dribbles out of your entrance.
You nod your head and he guides your arms to wrap around his neck, clearing his throat. Levi is coming down from his high, feeling rather dirty with how he lost control so easily with you in bed. It’s not that he would ever scare you but it’s not like he thinks daily of spitting into your mouth and teasing you with words of filth. Still, he enjoyed it all immensely.
Levi is naturally quiet, easily scooping you up when your body felt like jelly, his grip on you is firm. His grey eyes hold adoration for you, walking towards the bathroom and flicking the light on to reveal the modern bathroom, spacious and clean. He presses his lips to your forehead, setting you on the counter.
“Y/N, listen to my voice, okay? Let me take care of you. I want you to remember that I enjoyed it all. I’m going to prepare the bath, okay? I’m just a few metres away.”
Levi drags a fresh towel over your lap to try and keep you warm, giving your hand a light squeeze. You feel thankful that he’s using his words despite not being much of a talker. He’s reassuring you in so many ways that the sniffling is quiet now and you’re starting to feel content, remembering that you both had fun and connected.
The dark-haired male briefly pushes back his hair, walking over to the bathtub and turns on the taps, adjusting the temperature. “Still in the clouds?” He asks, preparing a bubble bath with soft scents of lavender and vanilla. It relaxes you. Not really in the headspace and able to speak coherently, you laugh softly.
“I’m not, I’m okay. I’m sorry I— cried after. It just hit me out of nowhere.”
Levi hums in response to your words, setting some supplies near the edge once the water has filled up the tub. He walks over, hands resting on either side of you, making you meet his gaze. His eyes aren’t wavering.
“Don’t apologise, Y/N. Such a drop in headspace is natural. Especially after a first time with someone. Your head begins to think if the other person enjoyed it as much as you. Did you enjoy it?”
Your cheeks feel hot, nodding your head.
“I enjoyed it as well. Did anything make you feel uncomfortable?”
“No, but I feel kind of embarrassed for liking things so much. It’s like— society says it’s not normal.”
“Tch. We all have our kinks and some of them can appear even through vanilla-like sex. It doesn’t matter what they think. We’re two consenting adults.”
You couldn’t help but bite back a grin. He’s always been so subtle with his opinions but strongly logical. It makes sense. You sit in silence and watch Levi grab a wipe. One hand cupping your chin to keep your head still before he begins to clean your face, wiping the makeup off carefully, along with the dry tears. Levi discards the wipe into the bin and hoists you up, carrying you gracefully over to the bath and carefully lowers you in. Always so gentle. Good thing that he didn’t make you walk since you practically felt like you were made out of jelly. Levi steps over the ledge and lowers himself into the water behind you, legs spread out next to yours and he sighs out softly.
You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet his. Something blossomed in your chest, causing you to speak up. “I care for you, Levi. I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Your voice is soft and this time, Levi’s heart is fluttering and he almost felt shy. “Tch, turn around.” He jokes, forcing you to turn around before he grabs a soft cloth. Levi begins to lather you up, washing you clean of sweat from your upper body, grateful you couldn’t see the smile that lingers on his tiers or the rosy tint to his cheeks.
You lean back into him, finding his touch to be so light and you wrap his free arm around you, resting your chin on his forearm. He obliges. “I care about you, too. Y/N. Thank you for tonight. I’d like to see you even more. Not just for sex.” His words are steady and honest, flowers blooming in your chest from hearing them. You’re falling for him. You have been for a while now but such words shall not be whispered just yet, wanting to see this relationship grow, just like he wants, too.
Levi’s hand dips beneath the water and he washes between your legs, careful as he feels you tremble, knowing your pussy must still be aching from overstimulation. Not wanting to be the only one cared for, you manage to wiggle around in the bath with Levi’s help, watching his brow arch in question.
You grab another cloth and begin to wash him down, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. Levi finds himself enjoying it. He’s always been happy being independent but maybe, he could open up to this. It’s comforting and... Levi has never had comfort before.
“Who knew you could speak such filthy words, Levi. I was swooning!”
Levi’s eyebrow twitches and he scoffs, amused by your words.
“Who knew you could suck cock so well, Y/N. Would love to train that gag reflex out of you but you sound so pretty choking on my cock.”
You pout playfully, continuing to scrub him clean before using your wet hands to brush your fingers through his hair, admiring how thicker strands fall over his eyes.
“Just wanted to be your good girl.”
“You are my good girl. Close your eyes, back around.”
Your heart is racing, pleased with the possessiveness. You obediently follow his orders and move back around until you’re unable to see him, closing your eyes. He guides your head back and you soon feel warm water being poured over your head, wetting your hair. Levi squirts some shampoo into his hands before he begins to rub, coating your hair in the shampoo that smells like coconut. The scents in the air coaxing you further into a relaxed state. His fingertips massage against your scalp, dragging his fingers carefully through. Levi notices some knots and so not wanting you in pain, he washes out the shampoo, fingers dragging along your hair until he hears the squeak. Perfect. Squeaky clean.
You hug your knees to your chest, waiting patiently as he squirts conditioner into his palm and soon lathers it into the ends of your hair, fingers dragging through. The male grabs the comb and begins to carefully brush out the knots. His touch is so featherlight, applying pressure on your scalp to prevent pain as he brushes some of the knots out more firmly. “Perfect.” Levi murmurs once the comb glides all the way through and you feel giddy that he cares so much about your wellbeing.
Levi washes out the conditioner and finally, wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close against his naked body. You feel so safe, snuggling into him. You both stay like this for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the bath.
Eventually, he pulls away, hands rubbing your biceps. “I’m going to change the sheets. I’ll be back to help you out, okay? Call for me if you need me.” Levi presses a kiss to the top of your head before he stands up, grabbing a fresh towel for himself, quickly ruffling up his hair until it’s only damp, drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his hips. Your eyes linger on the v-line and hum in approval. Levi leaves the room.
You call out instantly and he’s quick to poke his head in, frowning.
“You okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just missing you.”
His face deadpans before his eyes are rolling. Still, a smile is starting to creep onto his visage.
“Nn. Feels good.”
Levi leaves this time and you sink further beneath the water, closing your eyes. Levi still didn’t want to leave you for too long, not when you’ve been vulnerable and besides, deep down, Levi enjoys pampering and providing aftercare. Not that he’d say it so loudly.
He strips the bed of the wet sheets, throwing it into the basket for tomorrow’s washing before he pulls open his drawers, grabbing a pair of boxers and PJ bottoms. The towel is thrown into the basket as he tugs on the boxers, tucking himself in before the bottoms slide up his legs, deciding to skip the shirt for today. Levi grabs fresh sheets (always having plenty on hand) and begins to make the bed.
He has years of experience in making the bed because it’s done within minutes, not a crinkle can be seen. Levi smoothes out the blanket on top before he walks quietly down the hallway, quickly checking that you were okay and then visits the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of cold water from the fridge, a packet of crackers and puts them on the dishwasher to finally wash their dishes once everything was in. It’d drive him crazy if he left it till morning.
He sets everything on the bedside table, silently concerned for leaving you for minutes too long. Levi’s steps are quiet, making his journey back to the bathroom to see you. Your arms are crossed on the edge, staring into space with a dreamy expression. He’s relieved to see you happy, squatting down in front of you. His hand firmly cups the back of your neck, bringing you back to reality. Levi couldn’t help but admire your beauty, eyes grazing over the bruises across your body from his kisses.
“Ready, love?”
Levi takes that as a sign, grabbing a new towel and not the one he used on you before. This one is huge and as he helps you out of the bath, the towel could almost wrap you up twice. With a smaller towel, he delicately handles drying your hair, keeping you leaning against the closest wall, leg easily slipping between yours to keep you upright. You’re blushing, silently happy with how he handles you so gently and carefully. Once you found yourself dry, his arm wraps around your waist, slowly guiding you back into the bedroom.
The bedroom looks brand new again, even noticing that your clothes are neatly folded on the chair near the window. “Sit.” Levi points to the bed and you automatically sit. You watch as he grabs a pair of another set of his boxers and a shirt, gaze lingering on his upper body. How did you get so lucky to score someone so gorgeous?
He changes you quietly, helping your tired body move and once you were in an oversized shirt of his and boxers, he easily hoists you over as if you weighed nothing, tucking you into one side of the bed. You whine, patting aggressively next to yourself and Levi snorts, changing the light source to the one on the bedside and finally, you’re both in his bed after a long night.
Levi coaxes you over to the middle of the bed, uncapping one of the bottles. “Have a few sips for me, Y/N.” You melt in his tender voice, watching him tip the bottle and you swallow a few mouthfuls of water, quenching your first. Levi drinks from the other bottle, holding up the crackers in question. You shake your head and bury beneath the blankets. Levi watches you, eyes full of so much longing when you weren’t looking.
Your fingers curl around his pants, tugging. Levi obeys you this time, huffing as if he’s annoyed from being told what to do but he’s happy to slide further under the covers until he’s lying next to you. One arm is wrapped around your waist to pull you in, his legs tangling with yours and keeping you linked with him.
Your eyes were starting to feel droopy, exhaustion from the night activities trying to lure you into slumber. Levi wasn’t helping with his soothing caresses, moving you until your head rests on his chest, tucked beneath his chin. You couldn’t deny how happy you feel to be touched so much by him in privacy. You know it must be difficult for him at first, not so used to physical affection but Levi... He’s starting to crave it more and more. It will always be subtle and in silence, no one else around but you like it. You like having your world with Levi Ackerman.
“My heart bleeds colour for you, Y/N.”
His voice is a whisper and you slowly pull back to gaze into his eyes. You sense vulnerability from the older male. This is special. Something only Levi could want to give. You know it’s difficult for him to express such complex emotions but, he wanted to. A sigh parts from his lips, brushing hair out of your eyes. These words are only meant for you to hear. It’s something so different. Something you’ve never heard of and maybe to some people, it wouldn’t make sense but to you, it does. It makes perfect sense. You’re the reason for the colour seeping out of his heart finally and brightening up his now blooming world. Your world. He’s your world.
“Thank you, Y/N. For bringing colour into my grey world. Is there anything else you need?”
You smile warmly, shaking his head and lean up to press a long kiss to his lips, pulling away.
“Only for you to know that your name is carved into my soul now.”
You whisper, fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. Levi chuckles, finally pulling to lay on his back, guiding your head back to his chest, happy with your words.
“Go to sleep.”
His soft voice easily lulls you, nuzzling into his chest and breathing in his scent. Your eyes close and you fall asleep in the arms of the man you’re devoted to. Your chest is rising and falling peacefully. Levi’s own eyes are droopy but he watches over you for a few minutes. Fingers brushing along your arm, gaze so tender. He could drown in you and he’d let himself sink. The male knows that this isn’t something he could deny any longer. He once was scared. Not anymore. With you, everything falls into place perfectly. Levi sighs out softly. His arms wrapped protectively around you for the night. Levi plans to wake up early to prepare breakfast for you. It's needed after such a passionate night, filled with raw emotion and sex. His chin rests lightly on top of your head, the steady beat of his heart could be heard, even in your peaceful slumber. Levi couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. For once, Levi could fall asleep, too. Insomnia went for the night. Content with everything between you both.
© 2021 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — FAEVI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, or claim my work as your own. Do not promote any of my work on any forms of social media without my prior consent.
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writemywaytoyourheart · 9 months ago
Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B
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Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader
Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst
WC: 5.1k
Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder
Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia
summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 
Previous → Next
"Excuse m-me, sir."
Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.
You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.
"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.
Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.
When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.
What the hell is this?
"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.
Jungkook swallows thickly.
On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.
He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.
But you aren't outright telling him that you know...
What the hell does he do now?
You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."
He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.
"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.
"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.
You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.
Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.
He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.
You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.
"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.
Damn, she's nosy.
Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.
"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.
After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.
The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.
"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"
Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.
He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.
Shit, she's fast.
Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.
 "What?" He snaps.
You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.
"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.
Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."
"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.
You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."
Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.
You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."
 I know.
"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.
"What's y-your name?"
Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?
Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?
He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up. 
You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think. 
"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.
You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________
Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.
When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.
There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.
He's never been caught.
Not once. 
He's never even been close to getting caught. 
In and out, one and done.
That's how it's always been for him.
Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.
"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.
Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.
"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.
It's impossible.
He can't quit.
He just needs to get it over with tonight.
No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.
Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.
He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________
When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip. 
Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina. 
You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^
Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play. 
After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you. 
Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO
You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately. 
"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.
"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.
"Is he cute? Is he single?"
"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that." 
You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity. 
"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear. 
She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"
"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?" 
You nod, then remember she can't see you. 
"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"
Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"
"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?" 
You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute." 
"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head. 
"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin. 
You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"
You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."
You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon. 
You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched. 
You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg. 
You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow. 
You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you. 
Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________
Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul. 
He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head. 
A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid. 
Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it. 
He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home. 
He's going to finish this. 
When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure. 
He slides the last bullet back in, then-
The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment. 
Gosh fucking damn it all to hell. 
You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him. 
You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash. 
"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.
You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"
Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."  
You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?" 
Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk." 
"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best." 
"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea. 
"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him. 
The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.
"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger. 
"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"
He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley. 
"Miss ___! Is that you?"
Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now. 
You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"
Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."
You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!" 
Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"
He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse. 
"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."
Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good. 
Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you. 
Great, just great. 
"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh. 
Jungkook forces a smile onto his face. 
He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job. 
"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely. 
"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away. 
But he remains stoic. 
You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"
"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away. 
"Of course." He mumbles. 
This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted. 
"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___." 
"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile. 
Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time. 
"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street. 
The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more. 
When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath. 
"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh. 
Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging. 
You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."
Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.  
When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles. 
He turns back to you, biting back another sigh. 
"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips. 
"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner. 
You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day. 
It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him. 
You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________
Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly. 
He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed. 
Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness. 
"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly. 
His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by. 
Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.
 The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world. 
Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex. 
A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.
He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.
When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________
Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear. 
It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you. 
You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you. 
"Good morning, ____." 
"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet. 
Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly. 
Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work." 
"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later." 
He waves as you turn and hurry into the school. 
Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________
"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home. 
A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day. 
The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door. 
The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there. 
You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses. 
You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away. 
Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook. 
You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.
Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it. 
"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in. 
You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"
He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"
What did he say last week...?
"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."
"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps. 
You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"
Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off. 
"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."
The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me." 
You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it. 
When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before. 
The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina. 
You blink a few times, then you start making your way home. 
"Going home so soon?" 
You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.
A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly. 
He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."
You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"
Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious. 
"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."
At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine." 
"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to. 
"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong. 
"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. 
You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?" 
Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"
You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."
Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."
The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food. 
Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line. 
She acts like a kid. 
He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway. 
You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink. 
"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."
"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.
You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag. 
"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly. 
Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"
"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little. 
"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food. 
You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first. 
"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly. 
You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year." 
Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"
You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"
"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite. 
"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely. 
Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff." 
You smile, "That's a g-good job."
He nods, finishing off his last bite. 
"It pays the bills."
Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is. 
No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.
Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.
This is gonna be easier than I thought. 
a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one
271 notes · View notes
elysianslove · a year ago
what he doesn’t know; oikawa tōru
requested by anon; ❝ The anon that requested the Oikawa scandal ✨bless✨ them. Can I request a whole scenario with that plot?? But like they’re at a game and the reader spots Oikawa and he texts her while she’s next to Ushijima and she makes an excuse to leave and they meet somewhere and ALMOST get caught. ❞
synopsis; your heart belongs to one man, but your body another. based off of this thirst i received. 
pairings; oikawa tōru x reader, ushijima wakatoshi x reader
genre; smut, angst (at the end)
warnings; cheating, public sex, choking, degradation, humiliation, creampie,  barebacking, rough sex
note; i, in no way, condone cheating. i find it really, really disgusting, and i would never wish it upon anyone. this is purely fictional. if it bothers or triggers you, please don’t read! both oikawa and ushijima are above eighteen here. 
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━━   as not only shiratorizawa’s boys volleyball club’s manager, but also as the captain’s girlfriend, it’s not an odd occurrence to see you walk into the large gymnasium by his side, your small hand in his large one. you’re a constant by his side, a calming, steadying presence, and as you pass by the other teams, you offer his hand a reassuring squeeze, one he doesn’t necessarily need, but one he accepts nonetheless. 
as he leads you and his team throughout the hall, towards the stands where they’ll stay until they’re called upon to warm up, the different teams from the various schools in miyagi seem to shrink and shrivel in fear by the intimidation that drifts off of them in waves. even you can’t deny it. all your boys are tall, strong and capable, and with endless victories on their backs and around their necks an attestation to it. 
all but one team.
it’s not surprising seijoh’s boys face them head on, what with the fact that the multiple defeats they’ve faced have only hardened, thickened, their skin, sharpened their determination and strengthened their will to fight. it’s admiral, really, even to you. but what’s especially impressive is their captain’s gaze on you, unfaltering and unwavering as you pass him by. and when you look up momentarily, eyes meeting his, all he does is relax, arms crossing defiantly. heart beating unsteadily in your chest, you look away. 
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minutes later you find yourself seated by your boyfriend, you lift your legs up to cross them, placing your bag on your lap to avoid flashing anyone with your skirt as you hold your phone close to you, aimlessly scrolling through it. to your right is ushijima, biting into an apple, only half listening as tendō rambles to him and semi. glancing at semi’s face, you’re not entirely sure you want to listen in on the conversation, and you’re about to steal away your boyfriend’s attention, your mouth opening, hand coming to rest on his arm, until you feel your phone vibrate. 
meet me behind the gymnasium, now
your mouth hangs open as you stare at your phone, at the text message, at the sender. 
“did you want to say something, love?” ushijima asks, eyes curious. 
uncertainly, you shake your head, pushing your phone into the pocket of the jacket you wear. “n-no,” you stutter, offering him a lopsided smile. “i just have a little bit of a headache, so is it okay if i head to the nurse’s office?” 
he softens, smiling lightly. “of course,” he replies. “i’ll come get you when you’re needed, but please rest well.” 
rising to your feet, you place your hand on the back of his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “just text, it’s okay,” you tell him, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. at the sight of his endearing smile at your actions, your heart twists, stomach upset, but you push it down, skipping over tendō’s outstretched legs, and heading to the alleyway you’d spotted on your way here. 
when you arrive, he’s already there. 
oikawa tōru, captain of the boys volleyball team of aoba johsai, leans suavely against the brick wall, shadowed by the tall building. his hands rest in his trainers’ pockets, and he barely flinches when he hears your feet hit against the gravel beneath, approaching him. 
“took you long enough,” he greets you, and you bite back an eye roll. “what excuse did you think up this time?” 
god, he infuriates you. everything about him pisses you off so much. from the way he stands, the way he carries himself to the way he talks, the way he speaks to you, his attitude, his voice, his stupidly soft hair and irritatingly charming smile and his annoyingly dazzling eyes. and most importantly, worst of it all, you hate how he makes you feel, you hate how despite it all, you still want him, still crave his hands on your body, his fingers pulling at your hair, his lips marking your neck, his nails digging into your hips as he thrusts into you. 
you want to punch him in his stupid fucking face. but you can’t, exactly. so you do the next best thing. 
stomping over to him, you quickly grab at his face, effectively shutting him up as you press your lips against his, harshly. his words are muffled against your mouth, and he’s only taken aback for a second before he’s taking the lead. his hands come up to grip at your wrists, roughly snapping them away from his face, before one large palm finds its way to your throat, wrapping it around and pushing you, forcing you to stumble towards the wall he’d just been leaning against, pressing you against it. 
as always, the build up is quick, sinfully so. he kisses you open mouthed, unabashed, shamelessly, his tongue licking against yours. it can’t look worse than it sounds. but even though it’s so lewd, it’s also so fucking hot, and already, your hips are pushing towards his, searching for any sort of friction. 
“fuck,” he curses, pulling back, his hand tightening around your throat to keep your lips parted. “fuck you’re so needy.” 
you pant helplessly, hands fisting at his shirt, desperately pulling him to you. “please say you’ll fuck me,” you gasp out, effectively having him press his hips against yours. 
he giggles, leaning forward, hovering his lips over yours, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as his eyes scan you, your face, your body. “yeah,” he finally decides. “i’m gonna fuck you stupid.” 
his free hand travels to your waist, down to your hips, to your thigh, which he urges you to lift up. mindlessly, you do, lifting up a leg and wrapping it around his waist as his hand strokes along your skin, dipping past the hem of your skirt, trailing and ghosting upwards, up, up, up until his fingers brush along your clothed slit, teasingly stroking the drenched piece of cloth. 
“my god,” he taunts. “you’re this wet already?” he presses his fingers harder, stroking to your entrance, then back up to your clit, and your chest heaves, your face twisting away from him. he doesn’t let your eyes leave his for long, following your gaze as it tries to turn away from him. “you’re this wet for another man?” his hand loosens on your throat, allowing your head to fall forward to rest on his shoulder as finally, finally, he pushes your panties aside, fingers pressing against your entrance. you choke on your breath, leaning more into him as he sinks two of his fingers deeper, curling them as he presses them inside. “you’re this responsive to someone that isn’t your boyfriend?”
“tōru,” you gasp out, hands gripping at arms as he fucks you faster with his fingers, as you try to rock your hips in time with his movements, as his thumb finds your clit and rubs at it in tight, harsh circles. “tōru, tōru, tōru.”
“crying out my name instead of his,” he tuts, allowing you to press yourself more against him, his hand falling entirely from your throat and rising to the back of your head, fisting your hair and lifting you up. your eyes are half-lidded, your lips trembling, swollen from the kisses he’s given you, your moans so sweet, sweeter now that he can see you, see what he’s doing to you. “you know what this makes you? being like this, for me? moaning my name, begging for me? hm?” 
fuck, you’re so close. so, so close. his fingers, long, curled inside of you, pressing against all the spots you need him to, sloppily fucking you, and his words, the humiliation of it, and his voice, so near you, taunting you like this, and the way he grins at you, so smugly, so confidently. it’s all too much. 
“a fucking slut,” he finally says, and the coil within you snaps, spreading a fire along all your nerves. “yeah that’s it; cum for me.” the leg that’s wrapped around his waist falters, but you tense, pressing it tighter around him as your body shakes and shudders, as he fucks you through your orgasm, as you choke and cry and plead. 
when you settle down, you find your hands are already pawing at his shorts, tugging at the waistband. there’s a tent formed, his dick no doubt hard. pressing lower, you palm him through his shorts, shakily muttering, “please, fuck me.” 
he laughs lowly, his sticky hand coming around to grip at your hip, and obediently, you straighten up, arms wrapping around his neck. he tugs at his shorts, his boxers as well, with his free hand, pulling them down and freeing his cock, allowing it stand stiff against his stomach, leaking from the angry, red tip. the simple sight of it makes your mouth water, and one hand unclasps from behind his neck, reaching down for his cock, but all he does is swat your hand away. 
“i can do that myself,” he sneers, gripping his cock tightly, stroking it firmly from the base to the tip, twisting his wrist to collect the precum and smear it along himself. “think i know how to fuck you by now.” 
you whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you lean up on your toes, trying to press your hips closer to him. his hand momentarily leaves his cock, which bobs up as he frees it from friction, before his fingers find your panties again. he grabs at the crotch area, and with one, harsh pull, a sharp tag, you hear the snap and stretch of the cloth as he tears through it. “perfect,” he praises, fingers pressing against your slit for good measure, before he finally grabs his cock, and pushes himself closer to you. 
“wanna be full, please,” you whisper, and he hums, tapping the head of his cock against your clit, watching in amusement as you shiver. “we don’t have all da—“
he’s sinking inside of you slowly before you can think, before you can breathe, his cock stretching you. oikawa’s different to your boyfriend in so many ways, at least when it comes to fucking you. where ushijima is fast and diligent paces, oikawa is smooth, harshly slow, and you manage to feel him everywhere, all at once. and although your boyfriend’s cock is larger, whenever oikawa bottoms out, you feel him in your throat, because he makes you see stars in ways ushijima could never. of course, there’s guilt residing inside of you. how could you not feel that way? but it’s so easy to forget, with the way oikawa’s pushing into you now, with the way your cunt clamps down on him so tightly that it has him moaning, has him gasping, so, so prettily, in a way ushijima never does. 
oikawa looks just as beautiful fucking you as he feels.
the hand on your hip smooths down your thigh to the back of your knee, steadying your leg against him as he manages a pace, one that leaves you trembling, crying out, “more, more, more.” he fucks you till you’re breathless, till you see, hear, and feel nothing but him. he fucks you till your legs ache and your back is sore and your mind is numb. he fucks you till you can cry out nothing but his name. he fucks you so mean, hips snapping against yours so tauntingly, mouth so filthy as he calls you his pretty little whore. his, his, his. you’re all his. 
“gonna cum for me?” he wonders, voice strained and you nod, urgently, because yes, yes, for him. beneath your shirt, your tits bounce, nipples grazing against your bra. your skirt is bunched up and you can feel your panties only tight around your waist, the threads dangling helplessly. “fuck, look at this messy cunt. drooling all for me.” he’s right, he’s right. it’s all for him. the way your cunt is dripping and drenching his balls and your thighs and god, fuck, please don’t let it get all over your skirt. 
his fingers find your wet, sensitive clit quickly and he rubs uneven circles, so rough and sloppy as he fucks into you. as your body tenses with the oncoming orgasm, your cunt clenches around him, tightening and gripping his cock tighter. “fuck, keep— keep doing that,” he urges, and you do, you try, because of how gorgeous his broken voice had sounded. your cunt squeezes around him as he brings you closer and closer, and just as you tip over, his hand tightens like a vice into the flesh right by your thigh, so harsh that you’re sure it’s gonna bruise, and with a shout, he cums. 
fuck, he’s cumming inside. it feels so good. 
“tōru,” you sob. “tōru, fuck, so full.”
“yeah,” he sighs, the muscles in his thighs spasming slightly as he fills you up, as he rides out his high, using your pussy. “yeah, so full of my cum.” 
the phone in the pocket of your jacket is vibrating, but you can barely feel it through the aftershocks of your orgasm, still processing that you can feel as his cum trickles out of you when he pulls out, and the way your cunt still tightens around the tip of his cock when he pushes it inside to ensure you’re stuffed well even with how sensitive you are.  
as he stuffs his now soft cock back in shorts with one hand, he lifts up the leg around his waist, spreading you open, eyes focused on your cunt. “make sure to fuck him tonight, yeah?” he jokes, laughing, and you roll your eyes, desire for him now seeping away, irritation returning.
just as he lowers your leg to help you stand on two feet, your phone buzzes again and you reach for it, hand traveling up to smooth out your hair as oikawa himself fixes himself up. 
how are you feeling? i hope that you’re resting 
we have warm ups in thirty minutes by the way 
darling do you need me to come get you? 
or you can sit this one out if you’re still not feeling well
with a sigh, you slump against the wall. 
“is it him?” 
looking up, you find oikawa observing you with a curious gaze, arms crossed. you never understand why he’ll always ask questions he knows the answer to, questions he doesn’t want answers to. you only give him a nod, before your fingers are typing out a response. 
i’ll be there in 10 mins, love
“why won’t you leave him?” 
you scoff. “i love him oikawa,” you reason as you lock your phone, shoving it back in your pocket. and you do. you love your boyfriend, more than anyone could imagine. 
oikawa sighs, uncrossing his arms and pressing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “no you don’t.” 
with a frown, you reply, “who are you to decide that?” 
he’s suddenly much closer. 
he fixes you with a gaze, responding, “if you really loved him, you wouldn’t be here right now. with me.” 
his eyes are honest as they meet yours, and you suddenly feel the need to shrink away, to cower away from his gaze, to hide from it. it pains you every time you agree to meet him, every lie you say, every excuse you make, and yet you still do. you still lie, you still pretend. you continue to give your body to another man, willingly, and then spend the night in the arms of another, in the arms of your lover. and it’s why you know, deep down, that oikawa is right. you wouldn’t be looking for something in oikawa if you didn’t think ushijima wasn’t complete. not for you, at least. you desperately want to love him. he’s so kind, so gentle, so passionate, so strong, so caring, so charming, and so in love with you. 
“please,” you say, one hand reaching to settle, to rest, against his chest. “please give me time.” 
he sighs. “i’m not going to wait around forever.” 
it’s like a strike against your cheek, a punch to your gut, an arrow through your heart. you realize, in that moment, that you’re a victor in no scenario, in no situation. all you’ve done is dug yourself a hole that you can’t clamber out of. so with a pale face, you numbly nod, gaze looking no longer at him, but through him, and then you turn away. 
maybe— maybe you just weren’t made for this. 
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end note; was gonna make this pure filth but i thought, why not add a little bit of,, spice <3 i hope that everyone enjoyed this! and please, don’t cheat on your partners. it’s so cruel. spare them the hurt and the pain and their precious time. 
430 notes · View notes
randomshyperson · 8 months ago
Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Sorry for your loss - Part III "I will get better"
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Serie Masterlist here || Part II| | Read on AO3 
Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.
Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.
Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5
Chapter III - I will get better.
Your mother has an insinuating look on her face when you wake up after hearing noises of voices and walk to the kitchen, finding her sipping coffee on the table. With Wanda.
"H-hey." You greet clumsily, your sleepy brain had completely forgotten that the redhead was in your house.
"Good morning honey." Your mother said, her gaze following you all the way to the cupboards and as you served yourself. "I was just telling Wanda how I've been suggesting that you schedule a coffee so we could get to know each other, and what a coincidence it is that I come home and find her lost in my kitchen."
You yawn, shrugging your shoulders.
"Yes, fate is incredible." You mumble sarcastically, and your mother laughs lightly patting you on the arm as you sit down next to her at the table. "Did you sleep well, Wands?"
The redhead looks up at you and smiles as she nods. You stare back for a moment, but feeling your cheeks flush, you look away to your coffee.
"How was your date, Mom?" You ask next, not missing the opportunity to tease her.
"How was yours?"
You choke on your coffee, and your mother laughs. You don't risk looking at Wanda after that joke. But your mother is quick enough to change the subject.
"I need to talk to you about something, by the way." She comments stretching her arm to reach for the work case she left on the empty chair at the table. "Darcy came by the store yesterday afternoon, looking for you."
You frown in surprise, turning your head to look at your mother. She rummages through the files inside her bag, and then pulls out a red folder, handing it to you next.
"What's this?"
"Your contract."
You blink in surprise, and then open the folder. Running your hand over your face momentarily, you sigh.
"Honey, give it a try." Your mother pleads touching your shoulder. "You are so talented honey. It would be so nice if you would write again."
You laugh humorlessly, running your hand through your hair. Taking a deep breath, you close the folder.
"I'll think about it."
Your words are far more than anything you have done regarding work in many months, so your mother lets out a contented exclamation and gives you a kiss on the cheek, making you laugh.
"Now, let's change the topic, okay?" you ask clumsily, making your mother laugh. She straightens up in her chair, and you look at Wanda quickly, blushing at the fond look in her eyes in your direction.
"Tell me, darling, what do you do?" Your mother asks Wanda. You go back to eating, holding back a giggle. You knew that now your mother would interrogate Wanda the same way Pietro did you, but she was far less subtle than the man was.
Several minutes later, Wanda managed to evade questions when she said she needed to go home, and you nudged your mother lightly in the ribs to get her to leave the other woman alone.
You stood up, grabbing the pots and pans from the table to take to the sink before walking Wanda to the front door while your mother pretended to read the newspaper while watching you two.
"Thank you for letting me stay the night." Wanda said at the door. You smiled, telling her it was okay. She hesitated next, and then moved closer, kissing your cheek good-bye. You nodded dismissively as she walked away, a silly smile on your face as you closed the door after she returned to the car parked in the driveway.
"I liked her." Your mother says as soon as you close the door. You give a short laugh, turning to go back to your room and take a shower. "Don't let that one get away."
"I'm not going to talk about this." You tell her with a mixture of embarrassment and impatience, looking back. Your mother laughs, glancing back at the paper.
Non-Reader Pov’s
Wanda sighed as she opened the door to the house. The boys were with Pietro, because they had insisted on spending the night after the party. And honestly, Wanda was so tired that she didn't even argue.
Erik was in the living room and didn't take his eyes off the newspaper when his daughter entered the room, throwing her shoes in the doorway and her purse on the couch.
"Should I ask where you spent the night?" he says with a slight hint that makes Wanda's face heat up, but she just continues toward her own room.
"Please, don't." She asks embarrassed, and Erik smiles, not speaking again.
After taking a shower, and getting dressed, Wanda stared at herself for a few moments in the mirror. You are fine. Everything is fine. She repeated these words a few times before leaving the bathroom.
When she returned to the living room, her father was still in the same position, but this time he lowered the newspaper to look at her.
"Honey, I ended up not meeting the friend you said you were bringing to Luna's party yesterday." He counters and Wanda presses her lips together as she goes to the kitchen, starting to sort the ingredients for lunch. "Pietro told me she left early."
"Yep." Wanda agrees a moment later. "It was my fault really. But it's okay now."
"I'd still like to meet her."
Wanda grumbles in agreement, washing some pots. Erik gets up from the armchair, walking over to the counter.
"There is something else I would like to talk to you about." He continues as he rests his hands on the marble. Wanda murmurs signaling that she is listening, but does not turn around. Her father sighs before speaking. "I need to get back home."
One of the pots slips from Wanda's hand, making a noise, but she catches it before it breaks. With a racing heart, she wipes the soap from her hands and the pot, and then dries her hands with a cloth, turning to look at her father as she rests her back against the sink.
"R-right." She agrees with tears in her eyes, but forces herself to smile. Erik looks at her with concern and guilt, but still stands firm as he says.
"Wanda, it's time." He says. "Charles misses me, I can't stay here forever."
"It's okay, papa." Wanda adds in a hoarse voice. She clears her throat lightly, trying not to despair at the thought of being home alone for the first time since Vis died. "I'll be fine."
Erik went around the countertop, moving closer to his daughter to place his hands on her shoulders.
"You can call me anytime you want." He says tenderly. "This is your home, Wan. You'll be able to make it. I'm sure."
Wanda nods, letting the tears flow. Her father hugs her next, and she responds, relaxing against his grip.
Erik breaks the embrace a moment later, smiling at his daughter before pulling away.
"I need to get things organized." He says. "When Pietro arrives with the boys, tell him I need a ride."
"You’re leaving today?" Wanda asks in surprise, and Erik sighs as he agrees. She swallows dryly, nodding frantically in assent.
Her father turns toward the second floor, and Wanda rests her hands on the countertop, taking a deep breath.
She tries not to be too anxious about the fact that starting tomorrow, when the kids go off to school, she will be all alone at home. Actually alone.
Reader’s Pov
Leaving your monthly appointment with Agatha, after spending an hour telling her about all the progress since you last saw her, you were quite hungry.
You hadn't spoken to Wanda since the day before, but when you thought about texting, you were surprised to realize that she had tried to call you while you were in therapy.
Dialing her number, you waited for her to answer.
"Hey, sorry, my cell phone was off." You say as soon as she says "Hello," slightly worried that it was important. "What did you want?"
" To see you." She says simply, and you ignore your quickened heartbeat. "I...I've been sitting in my car for ten minutes. I can't get into the house."
You frown at Wanda's tearful tone.
"What happened?"
"I just..." She starts half breathlessly. "My dad's not here. I dropped the kids off at school, and I don't...I don't want to be alone."
Your heart breaks for confession, and you shake your head.
"Wands, take a deep breath okay?." You ask her. "Send me your address."
"No, you don't have to..."
"Wanda." You interrupt with a short laugh. "I don't mind, really. Let me help you."
The woman on the other end of the line sighs heavily, and then thanks you. You smile when she hangs up and there is an address on the message app.
It takes about half an hour for you to arrive, and you walk slowly to the car parked outside, tapping the window lightly to attract Wanda's attention.
She is briefly startled, distracted by her cell phone, but smiles when she realizes it is you, then opens the door and steps out to hug you. You ignore the feeling of how good it is to have her against you as you respond.
"Everything okay?" You ask softly, and Wanda denies it with her head as soon as she lets go of you. You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to resist stroking her cheek for a moment before pushing your hand away.
"I can't get in." She confesses with water-filled eyes as she leans against the car. You sigh, standing next to her with your back to the metal. Her hand slips into yours, but neither of you say anything about it.
"Why not?"
Wanda is silent for a moment, and you imagine that she is not going to answer. But she does.
"Vis bought this house for me." She begins, and you resist the urge to wipe away the tear running down her cheek, imagining that your touch might intimidate her into shutting up. "I never...I never thought I would live in it without him."
"Is that why you asked your dad to move in with you?" you question.
"I think so." She murmurs. "I...I didn't want to be alone here. I mean...I have the boys. But they stay with Pietro so much, and there's school and karate, and music class. When Vis was alive, he worked from home, and I always had company." She explains. "Dad is retired so he’s always around, and he didn't mind staying. I don't think I've been alone here in eight months." Wanda sniffles softly, wiping away tears. "But his husband needed him to come back, and Charles is right to ask. Dad can't keep babysitting his grown daughter who can't put her life together."
"Don't talk like that." You interrupt by squeezing her hand lightly. Wanda shakes her head, running her hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. "Wanda?" You call out to her after a moment, and wait for her to look at you. "Do you want me to come in with you?"
She looks at your lips for a moment, but your head is elsewhere, so you just smile. Wanda nods in agreement.
After you help her get the groceries from the car, you wait behind her until she opens the door. Wanda takes a deep breath, and turns the handle.
Her house is very nice. Clean and organized, although the common characteristics of a house inhabited by children are visible. Wanda leaves a paper bag on the countertop and helps you with the one you are carrying, picking it up and placing it next to the other.
"So?" You ask with your hands in your pockets, looking intently at Wanda, who is trembling slightly as she puts away the items in the kitchen. "Wands?"
"I just..." She begins half impatiently. You don't get affected however, standing your ground. "I don't want you to leave."
You let out a short laugh, feeling your face heat up.
"But I need to go eventually." You say shrugging. "But while i'm here, why don't you show me around? I'll spend the afternoon with you until the boys arrive. But someday you'll need to do it alone."
"Like you moving back to your apartment?" She retorts bitterly and you blink in surprise, and Wanda is already assuming an apologetic expression, but you laugh and she looks at you with confusion.
"Ouch." You joke. " All right, smarty-pants. That was mean. But it's okay, I'm not mad." You assure her approaching as you take your hands out of your pockets to raise them to Wanda's shoulders. " Let's make a deal then?"
"I'll keep you company at your place ." You say. "And you help me with my apartment?"
Wanda looks at you a moment, thoughtful. And then she smiles, nods, and circles her arms around you, burying her head in your neck. You don't mind that this hug lasts much longer than a hug between friends does.
You are laughing at a funny story from Wanda's college days when the front door opens and three small children come running in, throwing their shoes and backpacks on the floor. Pietro is surprised to see you too as he walks in and closes the door.
"Look who's here." He comments with a smile approaching to greet you. "How are you?"
"Good, Pietro." You reply gently. "And you?"
"Yeah, it’s all fine." He says looking at Wanda for a second. "Everything okay around here?"
Wanda bites her lip, looking away to the floor before speaking.
"She's keeping me company."
"Because papa's not home." Wanda adds, and it takes a moment for Pietro to understand. He exchanges a look with you, but smiles, squeezing Wanda's shoulder for a moment before the boys join you all.
"Hello, who are you?" One of the boys asks, who hugs Wanda's right leg.
You bend down at his height, extending your hand.
"I'm your mommy's friend. You're Billy right?" You say and the boy looks quickly at his mother before shaking your hand. You shake very quickly and repeatedly without squeezing making him laugh as you tell him your name.
You turn your face to the other boy, hugging Wanda's other leg. "Good to see you again, Tommy. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, thank you." He replies politely, making you laugh.
"Do I know her, daddy?" You heard Luna shyly ask Pietro next as she was hiding behind her cousin Tommy. Pietro smiled, nodding.
"Yes, dear, she was at your party don't you remember?"
"She helped Tommy with his headache didn't she daddy?"
Wanda frowned in confusion, but you didn't notice, your gaze on the child as you smiled. Pietro agreed again, and then Luna approached you.
"Do you want to be my friend?" She asked and you thought your heart was going to melt with such cuteness.
"Of course I do!" You replied excitedly, imitating the hand gesture you made with Billy, drawing a laugh from the girl.
"Let's take her to see our room!" Tommy suggested next, and you let out an exclamation of excitement to play with them. Exchanging a quick glance with the other two adults in the room, you let Tommy and Billy hold your hand and lead you upstairs, Luna following behind.
Non Reader’s Pov
As soon as the children were completely up the stairs, Pietro let out a giggle that attracted his sister's attention.
"What?" Wanda asked.
"Oh, nothing." He replied with a little smile. And only when he and Wanda were in the kitchen, intent on preparing lunch, did he add. "I like her."
"Shut up." Mumbled Wanda with reddened cheeks, understanding exactly what Pietro meant.
The man laughed again, walking over to stand next to his sister and chop some vegetables while she stirred the pots.
"I'll just say one more thing about it, and I promise I'll wait until you feel comfortable telling me." He says and seeing his sister's lack of response, he continues. "It's really good to see you smiling again. I'm glad you're moving on."
"Hey." The man interrupts his sister who looks clearly uncomfortable. He drops the knife he picked up to cut carrots and approaches her, holding her hands.
"There's nothing wrong with that." He says tenderly.
"Stop saying those things." Wanda asks releasing her hands to run her fingers through her hair, sighing as she leaned against the sink, breathing deeply. "I don't... I have the boys to take care of, I don't even have time to think about those kinds of things right now."
Pietro sighs, shaking his head.
"You know what, Wanda?" He begins. "Ever since we were kids, all you've done is take care of someone. You took care of babushka, and mamochka. You took care of me all my life, and then you got married and Vis joined the list too. Then came the twins." He said, and Wanda frowned, not understanding where the conversation was going, but Pietro's firm tone encouraged her not to interrupt. "When Vis died, you needed to breathe, and I really didn't mind helping you take care of the boys. But what about you. Wanda? If you're looking out for everyone else, who's looking out for you?"
But Wanda doesn't know what to say. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, and Pietro sighs slightly, smiling to reassure his sister.
"You've been through hell the last few months, Wands." He adds. "There's nothing wrong with wanting some heaven."
"You're getting so cheesy, P." Wanda mumbles with flushed cheeks, causing Pietro to laugh lightly. The woman wiped a few tears from her face, and sniffled before shaking her head. "Come on, enough of this talk. The children must be starving."
"Yes, ma'am."
They prepare lunch in silence for a few moments. It is only when Pietro hands Wanda the cut vegetables to throw into the pot, that she remembers to ask about what happened at the party with Y/N and Tommy.
"Oh, she ran into him in the office." Pietro counters. "I think he was feeling sick again. I found them in the kitchen, eating some hot dogs. You were lucky to find a girl who does very well with children, eh?"
Wanda smiles with reddened cheeks, nudging her brother lightly with her shoulders as she mumbles at him to shut up.
Reader Pov’s
You sat on one of the twins' beds as they filled your lap with toys.
Doing your best to follow all the lines and get on with the fun, you pretended to drink imaginary tea when Tommy handed you a cup, and made a funny voice when Billy asked you to pretend to be a policewoman. Then Luna asked you to imitate a dragon and you spread your arms, running around the room behind the three of them.
Several minutes later, they got into a game of pretend play and forgot all about you, so you looked around at the posters, not sure if you should leave them alone.
Looking around, your gaze caught the pictures on the boys' dresser, and you smiled as you ran your fingers across the pictures.
You bit the inside of your cheek when you picked up one of the frames, the picture of the whole family in it.
"Careful not to break it." You heard Billy say out loud to you. From the tone, it sounded like something Wanda probably said to him a few times.
"I promise I won't break it." You assure him with a smile, turning your gaze to the photograph.
It is probably the picture of the day when the kids came back from the hospital. Wanda is holding one of them, and a tall, blond man is holding the other baby. They have contented smiles on their faces as they wave to whoever was taking the picture.
"Were you friends with dad too?" Tommy asked suddenly. You were slightly surprised to realize that he had stood up and was standing next to you.
"No, Tommy." You respond by stooping down to his height. "I didn't know your father."
"Did you know he died?" He asked next, shifting his gaze to the floor. You held your breath before letting go.
"Mom said that dying means you don't come home anymore." Tommy said and you felt your heart tighten.
"Yeah, honey."
"I miss daddy." Tommy confesses next, and you feel your own eyes fill with water at the scene. But not wanting to make him nervous, you swallow your emotion and smile weakly to calm him down.
"Yeah, I know you do." You tell him, extending your hand toward him for him to hold if he wants. When he accepts, you squeeze it lightly. "But the people we love never really leave us. When you think of your daddy, you feel a little pain in your chest don't you?" You ask and Tommy nods in agreement. "That's the part of your father in you. The love you feel for him stays inside your chest now. Before, you could spread that love with hugs and kisses and smiles. But now you have to keep it to yourself." You say tenderly, and Tommy seems to absorb your words. Billy and Luna are also listening to the conversation and look at you as they sit on the floor in front of a dollhouse. "Do you understand what I say?"
Tommy nods. "Yes, I'm already five."
You chuckle lightly at the quick response.
"I don't want to keep love in my chest." He grumbles. "I want daddy back."
You swallow dryly, watching the thick tears stream down the boy's face. Your gaze quickly catches Billy's, and he is crying, too.
"I'm sorry, kids." You say reaching out to wipe away the tears of the boy in front of you. "That's how death works. It's not fair, and it hurts. But that's what happens. But you all aren't alone, okay? You can always hug your mommy, and your aunt and uncle, and me too if it hurts too much.”
Tommy sniffles and throws his arms around you. You hug him back, hoping he will calm down. It doesn't take long before Luna and Billy join you.
You want to make them feel better, so you open your arms as wide as you can to squeeze them all together, and wait a few minutes before you make a noise with your mouth like a monster. And it works very well, because the next moment they are laughing.
You let them go so that they run, and you laugh as you chase them around the house. When Wanda yells from downstairs for them to come to lunch, you change direction so that they dash downstairs.
"No running on the stairs!" You quickly warn. "The monster catches those who run on the stairs. You need to go slowly."
The children exchange quick glances and then obey. You pretend to walk in slow motion so that they come down without hurrying. They run again as soon as they get down, making you laugh.
Downstairs, Wanda guides everyone to the kitchen table. You exchange a quick glance with her, putting your hands in your pockets.
"You're going to have lunch with us right?" Wanda asks with a smile. You bite your lip, thoughtfully. "Please say yes." She adds the request making you laugh lightly.
"But then I need to leave." You say with a raised finger in jest, Wanda smiles, nodding in understanding, and taking your hand to pull you into the kitchen.
Neither of you mind the look Pietro casts at your linked hands as Wanda leads you to the table.
Your week goes by very slowly.
At group therapy on Wednesday, Stephen brings games, and it is as much fun as any other time. Before you leave for lunch with Wanda, Stephen asks to speak with you both.
"I have some questions about your checklist." He says as the gymnasium empties out and you guys help him put the chairs away. "I noticed that you crossed out all the questions about grief." He begins, and you and Wanda exchange a look. "But of course it's okay, it's not a script to be followed really, it's just ideas to break the ice. And you guys are making progress, so as long as it's working for you, it's working for us."
"Stephen you are diverting from the subject." You grumble with your hands in your pockets, and the man laughs.
"Sorry." He says as he finishes folding the metal chairs in the corner of the gym. "I imagine you also realize that you have completed the vast majority of your monthly goals. With the exception of one."
You sigh, looking away. Stephen tries to smile to reassure you.
"I understand that this is difficult for you." He speaks again. "And you should also know that it's not mandatory, okay, but I would like you to try."
You swallow dryly, and it takes a moment, but you nod in agreement.
"I will." You say. "But I need time. I'm not going to drive off the first time."
"Don't worry about deadlines." He interrupts. "Find a way that works for you. Besides, you won't be doing this alone."
Stephen gives you both an encouraging look, and you take a deep breath trying not to overthink his request. When he nods in farewell, Wanda holds your hand and stands in front of you.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asks and you smile, running your gaze over her face.
"Only if you stay with me."
She smiles. "I will."
You both walk outside next.
During the following week, you set small goals with Wanda regarding her house.
Wanda is always home alone in the morning, because the kids go to school. And since you don't do anything at home, you come to spend the morning with her.
On the first day, you leave her house five minutes before the time she usually pick up the kids. You smile, hug Wanda goodbye, and tell her she can take being alone for five minutes. She catches up with you at the front door, shaking as she hugs your back. You don't have the heart to leave her alone after that, and you go with her to pick up the boys at school.
On the second day, you try again. Five minutes of solitude. Wanda is nervous as you walk out the door, but she doesn't follow you. You smile proudly as you leave.
On the third day, you leave ten minutes early. And then fifteen. Then twenty. By the third week, Wanda can be alone for hours. On week four, you don't come.
Wanda calls you, laughing and crying, saying that everything is all right. That she can breathe, and that she is not panicking anymore. And you also cry and laugh while telling her that you are proud of her.
You have started writing again by then.
Because you needed to find something to keep you busy while you were at her house and Wanda worked from home with the administration of the flower shop, and she didn't mind you bringing some books and your laptop to try to write something.
For the first few days you just watched television, occasionally chatting with Wanda when she came to ask if everything was okay and if you were comfortable before going back to her study room. But then you run your fingers through the photographs of the house and get an idea about a small story. It's brief, and simple, but it's sweet and the first thing you've written in a long time. Wanda loves it when you show it to her, and you laugh shyly when she puts the paper on the refrigerator door.
You call Darcy the second week you are helping Wanda. Your colleague is happy to hear that you are working again, and even happier to hear that you will accept the contract. It's a quick thing, and the timing is good, just what you need to get used to again. Wanda sets up a second desk in her office and you smile in appreciation, saying that she would get tired of your presence like this, but she assures you that that would never happen. You enjoy having her company while you write.
Soon you tell her that you are ready to try driving again. And Wanda sighs, saying that she is also ready to go back to the flower shop.
You agree that after she drops the kids off at school, she will pick you up at home with her car, and you will go to the flower shop together. And you can try to drive her car on the way back.
"Everything okay?" You ask Wanda when you arrive in front of the establishment. The flower shop is very nice, even from the outside you can tell. It is a small brown building, with many vases and floral decorations outside, and a sign at the entrance. You can see Monica at the counter through the glass but she is distracted by a customer and doesn't notice you two at the door.
"Yeah, I just...I just need a moment." Wanda clarifies looking at you quickly. She takes a deep breath, and then enters.
"Wanda!" Monica greets you two cheerfully as soon as the customer leaves, and you two approach her around the counter. The woman quickly hugs Wanda, who laughs lightly. "I am so happy to see you here again. And look at that, I think even the flowers have cheered up."
You smile at the interaction, letting your gaze wander around afterwards.
Flowers are not exactly something you know well, but you think they are very beautiful. And you absolutely love photographs of flower arrangements, and flowers in nature.
"And how are you, Y/N?" Monica asks loudly, attracting your attention. You take your eyes off the white flower in front of you to smile at her.
"I'm good, Monica." You reply. "It's good to see you again. Is everything okay?"
"Oh, yeah." She says gently fiddling with some vases. Wanda disappears beyond the back doors, probably getting used to being around again. "It's been pretty quiet today, so I've had plenty of time to look around the web page."
You smile in understanding. You knew that Monica had an online store that she and Pietro ran, but you couldn't remember exactly what they sold, so you didn't comment on it. But you were glad to know that she was taking the time to check out the shop even though she was working at Wanda's flower store.
"Are you going to stick around today?" she asks next, and you put your hands in your pockets.
"I don't really know." You reply. "If Wanda stays then I'll stay."
Monica raises her eyebrows suggestively, impressed by your words. You feel your face heat up.
"B-because she's my ride." You clarify quickly, and Monica lets out a chuckle, turning to take a vase in her hands and move it around the place.
"Got it." She murmurs humorously.
Wanda joins you next, her purse was no longer with her, and you figured she was ready to work then.
"Mon, I'm going to stay in the back today, okay?" She says to Monica, who just nods encouragingly. Wanda looks at you hesitantly. "Is it okay if I leave you alone?"
You laugh lightly.
"Don't worry, Wands." You tell her. "I'm here for you. Do what you have to do."
"I'll keep you company, honey." Monica adds with amusement. Wanda laughs, glancing one last time at you before turning toward the office. You look at the other woman next. "Tell me, have you ever tended a garden before?"
You are washing the dirt from your hands when Wanda finishes. She was only inside the small office for at most three hours, much less than a normal workload, but you don't say anything and Monica doesn't care either.
After thanking Mon for teaching you how to grow a garden, you say goodbye to her with a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good rest of her shift, and leave with Wanda from the flower shop. You were anxious because you are going to be in the driver's seat now.
Wanda left the car in the supermarket parking lot at the corner of the place, at this time the surroundings were relatively empty.
You two were standing facing the driver's door.
"Here we are." She said beside you. You took a deep breath.
"Here we are." You repeated her words.
Wanda slipped one of her arms around your waist, hugging you from the side, waiting for you to be ready to open the door. And it took a moment until you did.
As soon as you sat down in the driver's seat, Wanda turned around the car and got in, sitting next to you in the passenger seat.
Your heart was racing, and you were static. When you risked looking down, you had a flash of memories, and your breath hitched and your eyes filled with tears. Wanda noticed, and reached for your hand quickly. You sat there in silence for about forty minutes until you stopped crying.
"Sorry, I'm wasting your time." You muttered breathlessly, and Wanda shook her head, squeezing your hand and raising the other to make you look at her. She stroked your cheek tenderly as she spoke.
"Don't say that. I want to be here and help you." She whispers while wiping your tears with her thumb. "As you have done for me."
You sniffled, trying to smile a little. Wanda just looked at you as you closed your eyes, trying to normalize your breathing.
"Let's try again tomorrow, okay?" Wanda murmurs to you. You gasp slightly, agreeing.
Then you switched places, and Wanda drove you home. You mumbled a thank you, giving the woman a long kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. You didn't notice how she squeezed the steering wheel and her face flushed when your lips touched her skin.
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sunflowervolvimp3 · a year ago
you’re someone i just want around: VII
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Sunflower, my eyes
Want you more than a melody
Let me inside
Wish I could get to know you
Sunflower Vol. 6, Harry Styles
A/N: okay so this part was so much fun to write!! it originally was going to have four more scenes but uh. as we all know. i am very wordy. so the other scenes I have planned will have to be split into what will probably become two more parts and you guys will just have to deal with getting another two chapters 😌 but this part is really exciting because we are getting a lil bit of angst mixed in with harry’s general dumbassery!! love to see it love to hear it!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep cranking out nearly 30k every one to two weeks!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!
ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist
word count: 26.6k
content/warnings: another good dose of denial, Fajita Friday with a side of blended margs, waking up on the wrong side of the coffin, brutal analysis of niall’s non-existent love life, ribeye!y/n x rotisseriechicken!harry, a horrible impersonation of Bob Barker, “are you there, God?  it’s me, harry,” degradation, the violation of worksafe laws through the improper use of a ladder, mild pain kink, alexa, play ‘kiss it better’ by rihanna, and the rise of kinkrry (dir. j.j. abrams)
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As Harry climbs up the stairs to Y/N’s apartment the next Friday night with a bag containing tequila, orange liqueur, and limes clutched within his jeweled hand, there are two thoughts flickering through his mind.  
The first, which weighs more heavily on the vampire, is if Y/N prefers her margaritas blended or over ice, as Harry feels that tells a lot about a person, and it would be such a disappointment to realize now that Y/N isn’t a fan of the blended beverage.  The second, which should weigh more heavily on his mind if he had his priorities sorted out, is how Y/N had managed to convince him to let her cook dinner for the two of them.
In reality, it hadn’t actually taken much convincing on the mortal girl’s part at all.  When she messaged him on her lunch break earlier that day, asking what he was up to that night, Harry had sat up on his couch, drawing Niall and Xander’s attention to him in a confused manner. He’d stared at the message for only three seconds before opening his phone and pressing on her contact name.  The action had come so easily to him that he didn’t even think about hiding his eagerness to speak to her, and instead pressed his phone tight to his ear as the other line rang three times before she picked it up.
“Harry?” Her confused voice rang through his phone speaker, the sound of the bustling cafe apparent in the background. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, love. I just, uh…just wanted to talk to you, s’all.” Harry had replied, shushing the questions he could see hanging off of Niall and Xander’s lips. “How’s work today?  Busy?”
“As busy as it always is on a Friday afternoon.” Y/N answered with a sigh, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips as he heard a loud slurp through the phone, leading him to picture a stressed out Y/N sipping the last remnants of her iced latte. “But I’m over halfway through my shift, at least, so… it’s all downhill from here.  In a good way.”
Harry had nodded slowly, as if the mortal girl could see him through the phone. “I’m glad to hear that.”
His friends, however, seemed to be less glad to hear it, and paused the golf tournament that was playing on TV to stare at him with incredulous expressions on their faces. 
“Who are you talking to?” Niall had demanded, kicking his foot into Harry’s calf with more force than what was necessary. “We’re going to miss the first swing!”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Xander snickered to the Irishman next to him, a devious smirk lighting up his face. “It’s that human he’s been obsessed with for the last, like, two months.  His little plaything.”
Harry had stood up then, flipping the pair off with a pointed glare before turning towards the kitchen, intent on finding some peace and quiet where he could carry on his conversation without having to worry about Y/N overhearing something she shouldn’t.
“I don’t want to take up too much of your break,” He murmured, resting his elbows over the cool marble countertop of his kitchen island that was nearly the same temperature of his skin. “But calling you seemed easier than texting.  I’m free tonight—” He always kept his Friday nights free for her; had she not realized that by now? “So I was thinking I could be at your place around eight?  Or nine?  What works for you?”
And it was then that he had heard it, breaking through the cafe ambient noise that caught Harry’s inhuman ears, and the inquisitive whispering of Niall and Xander in the other room.  As clear as if it were really right in his ear, Harry had heard the sharp intake of breath, the slow exhale that followed, and the melodic voice that he’d become so familiar with, shaking ever so slightly.
“I was, um, actually thinking you could come over a bit earlier.” Y/N had replied, the tapping of her fingertips against her back room’s linoleum table reverberating around Harry’s head. “I got groceries yesterday, and I was going to make fajitas tonight, and I realized I had enough food for two people, and so if you don’t have anything else planned—”
Harry hadn’t meant to cut Y/N off— listening to her nervous rambling is one of his favourite things, and he’d never purposefully forfeit the opportunity to hear it (and that fondness aside, cutting off her speech would be rude)— but shock overtook his body and triggered the response before he could stop it. “You want to cook me dinner?”
“I—” The speaker crackled again, and Harry could practically picture the hesitation wrinkling across Y/N’s face, the caution in her tone a clear indication of how hard she was working to stay upright on the tense tightrope known as their relationship. “Yeah, I do.  I’m not a chef or anything, but my friends and I used to cook for each other all the time, and Fajita Fridays were one of my specialties, so—”
“I would absolutely love it if you cooked for me.” A slow grin had spread over Harry’s face, pulling the dimples from his cheeks in a way that he’d recently noticed only she could. “What time should I be over?  Do you want me to pick you up from work?”
“No, that’s fine.” Y/N had assured him quickly, the breathlessness in her voice leading Harry to picture the light rush of heat that was probably working its way over her cheeks. “You can come over around six, if that works for you…?”
Harry had checked the Rolex hanging off his wrist, which displayed the time of 2:33PM back to him. “Six is perfect.” He’d replied with an airy yet firm voice, nodding to himself once again. “Can I bring anything?  Is there anything you need me to pick up?”
“Oh, uh...no.  No, you don’t need to bring anything.  Just your appetite; I make a lot of fajitas.” The surprise that echoed in Y/N’s voice and the small laugh that followed had drawn an pleasurable ache from Harry’s dormant chest in a way he couldn’t explain. “Thank you for asking, though.  So… I’ll see you at six, then.”
“Sounds good, love.  I’m looking forward to it.” Harry had smiled again, despite no one being around to view it, and continued to smile even after he had hung up and made his way back to the living room, where his two friends had greeted him with an array of exaggerated vulgar motions and kissy faces.
He had waved them off, and though he’d glowered at them hotly and shrugged off their prodding questions, he couldn’t find it in himself to stifle the grin that the human girl’s offer had left behind on his cheeks.  She wanted to make him dinner. Just the two of them. It’d been so long since anyone had gone so out of their way for him like that, he hadn’t been able to help his giddy reaction.
As he reaches the final stair leading to Y/N’s floor of her building, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s pink lips.  He should’ve known better than to call her with his friend present, he thinks, as his footsteps echo around the empty hallway.  The moment he’d plopped back down on his couch, Niall and Xander had ignored his dismissive attitude and proceeded to continue to bombard him with a million questions about her, and a million more digs at his ego when he had later excused himself from their tournament to get ready for the dinner.  Although he’d normally be able to ignore their obsessive inquiries without so much as a second thought, he’d berated himself throughout his entire shower and get-ready routine, the harsh judgement ever-present in the back of his skull as he’d picked up his favourite ingredients for margaritas from the grocery store.  He should’ve known better.
It’s bad enough that he’s toying around with Y/N’s feelings just for his own selfish needs, but every time the topic of Y/N came up around his friends, it ended with the exact same question, just as it had earlier that day.
“So when do we get to meet her?  Like, officially meet her, and not just hear her moaning through your wall.” Niall had asked as he took a sip of his Guinness beer, layering a childish snicker on top of his curiosity.
“Yeah, I’d love to see the girl that domesticated you.  Always thought she’d be fictional, actually.” Xander’s laugh had matched Niall’s as the two of them watched Harry slip a fresh t-shirt over his head. 
A tightness had developed in Harry’s chest then, so tense that it had nearly stopped him from smoothing the shirt over his inked chest. “You don’t get to meet her.” He had replied curtly, shooting the two vampires a stern look. “She’s not something for you two to gawk at, she’s—”
Niall had interjected then, the mirth in his eyes refusing to bow despite Harry’s seething. “Your girlfriend?” 
Harry had stared witheringly at the Irish immortal. “No.  She’s not my girlfriend.  She’s just a friend I have an arrangement with.  An arrangement that will become much more complicated if she starts hanging out with other vampires and notices that there’s something… off about us.”
“Off?” Niall had questioned, grinning cheekily with a flash of his fangs, his blue irises dying blood red. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, mate.”
Pausing in front of Y/N’s front door, Harry takes a moment to swipe his hair back from his face, tousling his curls until they fall into just the right place.  His chestnut locks are beginning to get a little long again (they curl around his ears and tickle the nape of his neck now), but he can’t quite bring himself to cut them just yet; Y/N has a habit of reaching for them whenever he goes down on her, and the sensation of her tugging on his hair is too satisfying to let go of so easily.  As for the rest of his look, Harry has opted to keep it casual tonight, wearing a blue and pink flamingo patterned button down over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, paired with a rust-coloured pair of corduroy pants and his white vans.  If their usual routine is any indication, then Harry will be staying the night, and he’s learned over the years that it’s much comfier to leave the next morning in loose clothes than trying to yank on a pair of tight leather pants in a stranger’s bedroom.  Not that Y/N is a stranger; in fact, he could probably get away with bringing an overnight bag now.  But there’s something so presumptuous in showing up to a dinner date with a bag, and in a shocking— though fleeting— change of heart, the last thing Harry wants is to seem presumptuous. 
Harry raises his jeweled knuckles and raps on Y/N’s door in a rhythmic pattern, straightening his back and leaning against the frame as he waits for the door to open. 
Even through the wooden barrier, Harry can hear the old music floating through the bluetooth speaker that he knows sits on Y/N’s kitchen counter, the sizzling of peppers and onions in a pan, and Y/N singing to herself softly under her breath, the latter of which pauses as soon as Harry knocks.  Instead, it’s replaced with the soft padding of bare feet against the laminate floor, the click of a lock, the removal of a door chain, and the turning of a knob as the door swings open. 
And then Harry sees Y/N, and the sight of her catches the breath that he doesn’t really need. It lodges in his lungs and at the back of his burning throat, causing an odd sensation to churn the pit of his tummy as a sudden wave of heat pours into his cheeks. 
If Harry’s pride wasn’t as steadfast as he likes to portray, he would openly admit that it truly is frightening how just one glance at her can make his entire nervous system flare. 
It’s obvious that Y/N’s been at work all day; her mascara is slightly smudged beneath her eyes, and the ponytail bouncing at the top of her head is loose, with wisps of hair falling out and framing her face.  Her clothing, however, has been changed from her usual work polo and jeans to a cotton bralette that clings to her chest and displays a strip of her stomach that makes Harry’s mouth water.  Her black leggings have mesh cutouts on the side, and while that detail would normally draw Harry’s eyes by default, it’s the multicolour patchwork cardigan hanging loosely off her shoulders that really catches Harry off guard.  Or, more specifically, it’s his multicolour patchwork cardigan that catches him off guard. 
“Hi.” Y/N smiles up at him warmly with the edges of her eyes crinkling, her hands grasping the side of the door tightly. “Six P.M. on the dot, Holmes.  I’m impressed.”
“Solving mysteries isn’t my only speciality.” Harry matches his grin to hers, his dimples making an appearance as his expression grows. “Although speaking of mysteries… I think I just solved the case of my missing cardigan.” With his free hand, Harry reaches forward and tweaks a button on the article of clothing, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s bare tummy when he pulls away. 
A wispy giggle falls from Y/N’s cheeks as she opens the door wider to invite Harry in. “Right, that case.  I was about to call you about it, actually.  We got a big break-through last night.”
“Did we?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he steps into her apartment, shifting the fabric tote bag in his right hand to his left as he squeezes into the narrow corridor beside her. “And what was the big break, exactly?” 
Y/N wraps her arms around Harry’s neck as he snakes his now free hand around her waist, clutching her close to his cool body. “Well, I was trying to go to sleep, and I was cold, so I went searching in my closet for an extra blanket, and found this tucked in the back from when you let me borrow it last weekend.” She explains lightly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Case closed.  Elementary, my dear Holmes.”
“I thought that was my line?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as fond amusement dances through his emerald eyes, his cold palm giving one of her love handles a playful squeeze. “First you steal my cardigan, and now my catch phrase.  What’s next?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Y/N says with a shrug, her smile growing wider with every passing moment as she nudges his chin teasingly with the tip of her warm nose. “I could steal a kiss, I suppose?  That’s a very you thing to do.”
“Not quite.  Usually you’re the one trying to steal one, and I make you ask for it. Beg, even, if I’m feeling a bit meaner than usual.” Tilting his head to the side and shaking it slowly, Harry lets out a long sigh. “You’re losing your touch, Watson.”
“Tragic.” Y/N matches his sigh as she begins to untangle her hands from his hair, but when she tries to extract herself from Harry’s grasp, he just holds on tighter. 
“But for the sake of tradition…” Harry’s eyes fall to the mortal’s lips as he wets his own with his tongue. “How about a hello kiss?”
Despite the usual iciness of Harry’s touch, heat begins to blossom through Y/N’s chest as she tilts her head up to meet Harry’s mouth.  The kiss, unlike many they’ve shared before, is tender, and only lasts for a brief moment before Y/N settles back down on the balls of her feet. 
“Hi.” She whispers, her hands curling around the fabric clinging to Harry’s muscular shoulders. 
“Hi.” The vampire replies easily as he finally releases his grip on her waist, taking a step back from both Y/N and the bashful instance they’d found themselves in.
He allows her to lead him down the entrance hallway and into her living room, drifting behind her towards the kitchen and glimpsing over all the ingredients she has scattered around her counters.
“You look beautiful in my cardigan, by the way.” Harry throws out casually, admiring the way the article hangs off her figure in the most adorable oversized fashion. “If I didn’t make that clear enough before.  And,” the monster takes a sudden deep whiff for emphasis, “it smells delicious in here. Seems like Gordon Ramsey doesn’t have shit on you, huh?”
Although the initial compliment brings a flush of pleasure up Y/N’s spine, she chooses to focus on the latter half of Harry’s comment. “I’d like to think so, yeah.  Dinner is almost ready, if you want to take a seat at the table.  Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Actually…” Harry holds up the bag in his hand and bounces it jestingly, fully bringing it to Y/N’s attention for the first time. “I thought I’d make us margaritas to go with the fajitas.  Really commit to the theme, y’know?”
All of the previous drinks that Harry has made for her float through Y/N’s mind, and her mouth salivates at the thought of drinking another of his incredible creations. He really does have such a wise talent with liquor that she finds herself subconsciously wondering how that had come to be. “Of course; we can’t do Fajita Fridays halfway, now can we?”
“No, we can’t.” Harry agrees with a firm nod, setting the bag down on her small kitchen tabletop and unpacking the ingredients he’d toted with him. “Do you prefer your margaritas over ice or blended?”
The correct answer immediately rolls off the mortal’s tongue. “Blended— I’m not insane.” She states with a scoff, picking up her spatula to stir the pepper and onion mixture on the stove as she bobs her head towards the cabinet at the far end of the room. “The blender is just up in that cupboard there.”
The corners of Harry’s pink lips tug up at her response, and he nods to the girl as he drifts over and reaches for the cabinet she’d motioned to. “Gotcha.” He says, pushing back a few decorative serving platters before extracting the blender sitting on the back of the shelf. “Oh, this’ll do nicely.”
His comment is met with a quiet snort from Y/N, who glances at him from the corner of her eye as she turns her attention to the sautéing chicken in her skillet. “Oh, it will, will it?” She asks sarcastically, her lithe fingers adding pinches of seasoning to the dish. “Are you a blender connoisseur, then?”
“Of course I am, angel.  Y’have to be, to make a half decent margarita.” Setting the kitchen appliance in the counter, Harry studies it with a keen eye, running his fingers over the smooth glass and slightly worn buttons. “It has a little bit of wear and tear, but that’s to be expected; the rest of it seems to be in decent condition.” He unwraps the cord from the base of the blender, plugging it into the wall before pressing the pulse button a few times to make the machine roar to life. “Listen to that engine purr… A blender like this could bring a man to tears.”
“That’s good to know.” Y/N snorts again, shaking her head at Harry’s antics as he begins to prepare his ingredients. “If you need a knife for the limes, there’s one in the block there.  And ice is in the freezer—”
“That’s good to know.” Harry mimics her prior reply with a shit-eating grin on his face, his hand wrapped around a bottle of Don Julio he’d snagged from his bar shelves. “I was about to check the cabinet again.”
With a shake of her head, Y/N steps past Harry to open a cupboard and fetch a serving dish. “Alright, smartass.” She bumps her hip against Harry’s as she passes him, the motion sending a jolt of electricity across the vampire’s pelvic bones. “Keep it up and you’ll lose dessert privileges.”
Although she tries to step away, Harry twists a cool arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her back against his chest as he smudges a kiss over her pulse point. “‘M sorry.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low in an attempt to hide the smile brewing on his face. “I’ll be nicer, then.  I’d hate to lose dessert—it’s my favourite part.”
With his lips over her neck, Harry can feel the exact moment Y/N’s heart rate increases, his ears pricking with the now familiar and adored sound.  Her warm hand cups his over her belly, fingers tracing over the knuckles of his icy touch. 
“I know it is.” Y/N tilts her head to the left, trying to provide Harry with more access to her neck as his mouth continues to ghost over her skin. “So I’d hate to take it away.”
The human girl’s familiar and achingly sweet honey and lavender scent fills Harry’s nostrils as his nose brushes against her jaw.  When he refers to her as dessert, Y/N doesn’t know how genuinely Harry means it. “Alright.  I’ll behave.” He relents, but he squeezes her tummy tightly as his teeth graze her skin one last time before pulling away. “For now.”
When Y/N detangles from the cage that is Harry’s arm, she busies herself with cooking again, doing her best to hide the light sheen of sweat that is beading her forehead.  It’s almost embarrassing, really; despite only being here for five minutes, Harry’s already pulling reactions out of her that she didn’t even know she had.  If she doesn’t get a hold of herself soon, she’ll be on her knees for him before he’s had a bite of dinner. 
With that thought in mind, the mortal forces herself to focus on the tasks at hand, continuing her banter with Harry while making sure to keep the subject matter PG as she plates the food and Harry blends drinks for them.  Her tiny table, which she’s already set for two, is soon filled with dishes containing sautéed vegetables, chicken, and other various toppings, and Harry pours his margarita mix into two glasses before sitting across from her with a curious air. 
“So this is what you and your friends used to do back home, is it?” He asks, crossing his arms and resting them on the table as he regards Y/N with a tilted head. “Fajita Fridays?  Taco Tuesdays?  Meatloaf Mondays?”
“Meatloaf Mondays sound depressing.” Y/N shoots back with a scoff, her hand wrapping around her margarita glass and lifting it to her mouth to take a sip. “We weren’t that pathetic.”
Harry exhales a sharp but quiet breath from his nose once—the beginnings of a laugh— before offering a dry reply. “No, it doesn’t have a very nice ring to it, does it?” He says, watching eagerly as her eyes widen at the first taste of the drink rolls across her tongue. “Do you like it?”
Y/N clears her throat as she lowers her glass from her mouth. “It’s...strong.” Y/N replies slowly, taking another gulp and smacking her lips in an exaggerated fashion. “But yummy.  This is a repeat recipe, I think.” 
The praise warms the pit of Harry’s stomach as he raises his own glass, motioning to the girl before him before bringing the edge of the cup to his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He murmurs, setting his drink back down after taking a sip and letting his eyes roam over the food before them. “So how did you and your friends do this?  Everyone would just reach in at once, or—?”
“Oh, well, we—we used to say grace first, actually.” Y/N admits after a moment, her eyes momentarily flickering to the gold cross dangling from Harry’s neck.  Although his usual cross earring is absent tonight, his pearls out of sight as well, and he’s only wearing his opal and lionhead rings, that familiar cross necklace is present as ever. “And then we’d move everything around the table clockwise from the person who actually led saying grace.” 
Despite Y/N previously mentioning that she’d been a regular church goer in her hometown, this new information sparks an interest in Harry’s mind. “Really?” He quirks an eyebrow as the human girl reaches for a warmed tortilla and begins to spoon her toppings inside. “But you don’t do that now?”
“Nope.” Her lips pop on the final consonant sound of the word. “Did you say grace growing up?” She asks curiously, nodding to the chain around Harry’s neck. “You always wear that cross, so I was just wondering…”
“Oh, uh—yeah. Yeah, we did.” A crease furrows the space between Harry’s brow as he selects his own tortilla, keeping his eyes glued to the food. “My father used to lead it every night.” Although he could leave the comment there and be done with the topic, more words of explanation spill from Harry’s mouth without him realizing how much he’s actually saying, his gaze remaining trained on the way he’s filling his tortilla, almost as if it’s a monumentally difficult task that requires his utmost attention. “I liked to listen to him say it.  My father had a very calming voice; he could be loud and boisterous when he wanted to, but at home, he always kept cool and collected.  It was comforting.”
Y/N notes the use of past tense when discussing Harry’s father, but doesn’t comment on it.  With the knowledge that his mother had passed away in her mind, she assumes the same has happened to his father, and the realization twists her heart in a new and aching manner. “You speak like that, you know.” She tries to steer the conversation into a lighter direction, registering the sadness in his emerald eyes when he discusses his family. “When you’re telling stories about your life.  Your voice is low and even, quieter than usual.  It sounds a bit like a…lullaby, I guess.  Or like— like an audiobook, like someone’s reading some old poetry, or—” Her cheeks flame beneath her skin as she drops her eyes to her plate. “Sorry.  That, um, that sounds strange.”
The outpouring confessions from the girl across from him brings an awed expression to Harry’s face.  He had always assumed his voice was more of a siren song than anything— capable of luring his victims into a false sense of security before he showed his true monstrous form.  But if the stuttering of Y/N’s heart and the brightness in her eyes is any indication, maybe that isn’t quite the case.  She described him as a lullaby, yes, but she didn’t sound betrayed at the thought of him spinning stories in order to keep her pliable under his grasp.  If anything, her words give the impression that she enjoys it.
“I’ve heard stranger.” Harry murmurs after a moment, his unusually bare forefinger rubbing over his lips pensively as he waits for Y/N to raise her head again. “Thank you.  That’s a compliment, really, saying that I sound like my dad used to.”
“Well, I mean, I’ve never heard your dad speak, so take it with a grain of salt—” Y/N forces out a laugh, despite her cheeks and neck still feeling uncomfortably flushed, “—but I imagine it’s similar.  After all, he raised you, didn’t he?”
Harry nods slowly, his mind so wrapped in his own memories that he doesn’t even think about the incriminating answer about to fall from his lips. “He did, yeah, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to speak to him.” He admits, pinching his chin between his thumb and index finger as he lifts his left shoulder in an empty shrug. “Memories fade over time.  Things change.  People change.”
Although she can feel that they’re beginning to breach a more serious topic, Y/N doesn’t pull back like she did in the restaurant.  She rationalizes this action to herself as she sips her margarita and collects her thoughts, saying that it’s just because it’s easier to be honest in her apartment than a brunch restaurant. But the truth of the matter is that the longer she spends with Harry, the more Y/N wants to know him. Really know him, outside of their usual arrangement. 
“That’s true,” She agrees with hesitancy etched into her voice, keeping a measured glance on Harry’s body to read his reaction. “But you can’t have changed that much since you last saw him.  When…” Her words trail off when Harry locks his emerald eyes with hers, but she takes a deep breath and finishes her question in determination. “When did he pass away?  How old were you?”
In the immortal’s mind, the answer forms without any delay.  His father had been the first to go in his family; the combination of breathing in smoke from the forge and his age being four years his mother’s senior had stopped his heart before hers.  The news of his death reached Harry a few days after it had happened, and he had just made it back to Holmes Chapel in time to watch the funeral service from afar.  
Despite his appearance being frozen at twenty-six, as it always would be, Harry was nearly twenty-nine to the day of the funeral.  Gemma had been thirty-three by then, standing with their mother and a tall man by her side, who whispered what her brother hoped were reassuring words in her ear.  His sister's eyes had been nearly a perfect mirror of Harry’s, with the exception of a few crow’s feet beginning to show around them.  And his mother had been dressed in widower’s black, a veil pulled over her weeping face to allow her the bit of discretion that was expected in Victorian times.  Harry had been distressed when he saw the veil, despite expecting it to be there; he’d hoped he could get one more glimpse of her eyes before he had to leave that day.  He had entertained the idea of walking over, expressing his condolences, and compelling her to forget she’d seen her lost son, but the thought had twisted an ache into his chest that had nearly brought him to tears, and—
“I was twenty-one when he passed away.” Harry spits the sentence out, and the familiar lie burns his throat in an entirely foreign way than the thirst he’s used to. “He had lung cancer.” At least, that had been Harry’s assumption after he read up on the disease years after his father’s undetermined passing.  It made sense, given that all the grit and soot from the coal and metal grime had found its way into the air of the blacksmith’s shop, and after slaving away for years in order to keep food on the table, it had also eventually made its way into his father’s system… “It progressed quickly.” 
As he watches sympathy glaze itself over Y/N’s eyes, all he can think about is how undeserving he is of it.  Even though he’s compelled the mortal girl in front of him, gained her trust, been invited into her home, and is kindling a connection with her, all for the simple act of drinking her blood, Harry thinks that this might be the most monstrous thing he’s done yet— paint himself as a victim of circumstance, hiding all the wrong-doings he’s ever committed, and allowing Y/N and her softly-beating heart to feel sorry for him. 
The conversation moves to an lighter tone after that, which Harry does on purpose; the less he needs to tell her about his fabricated sob story, the better.  And, truth be told, he’d much rather hear about Y/N’s day-to-day life.  It’s been so long since he had human concerns, and when he did, his concerns certainly didn’t have anything to do with being betrayed by customers because the cafe wifi was down.  It’s almost amusing to him, listening to her rant about all these insignificant people, and he can’t help the way his dimples begin to peek out of his cheeks as she raises her voice at imaginary customers. 
“So I told him, in my most polite voice, that we were aware the wifi was down, and that we’d called the provider to let them know, and that they were sending someone as fast as they could to fix it. And do you know what he said to me?” Y/N widens her eyes in incredulous disbelief as she takes a bite of her fajita, chewing and swallowing quickly to continue with her story with more emphasis. “Do you know what he said?”
“No, I don’t.” Harry shakes his head in endearment, hiding the laugh forming on his rosy lips behind his margarita glass. “What did he say?”
“He said—” Y/N twists her face to mimic the customer’s expression, dropping her voice down five octaves lower as she speaks with a ridiculous tone. “‘Oh, well, can’t you just fix it?  You work here, don’t you?  What else do you get paid for?’ Can you believe that?” She states the last phrase in her normal voice, scoffing at the memory as she crosses her patchwork covered arms across her chest. “Like, I’m a waitress!  I don’t work at an internet company!  I’m trained to bring you water and sandwiches— which are more cucumber than anything with actual substance—  so it’s not my responsibility to figure out why you can’t load Candy Crush on your phone!”
A snicker finally breaks free from Harry’s throat as he watches Y/N angrily stuff a piece of chicken into her mouth. “Sounds like you had a rough day today.”
“That’s pretty average for me, honestly.” Y/N sighs again, rubbing her hand over her forehead as she polishes off the rest of her second margarita. “Ugh, it pissed me off.  I wanted to shove his phone right up his ass and ask if his wifi connection got better.” A small smile breaks out across Y/N’s lips in spite of herself as Harry stifles another giggle at her witty comment. “But I’ve talked about it enough.  How was your day?  What did you do?”
“I did a bit of work in the morning, nothing too noteworthy.” Harry replies, deliberately keeping his answer vague as he twists his lionhead ring around his finger. “And I was about to watch a golf tournament with Xander and Niall when you called.”
Harry thinks nothing of mentioning their names, but is surprised when Y/N’s brow cinch in thought. “Which ones are Xander and Niall?  Is one of them the long haired one?” She asks curiously, pulling her (his) cardigan off one shoulder as the tequila begins to course through her veins and heat her body. 
“The— no.  No, that’s Mitch.” Harry says slowly, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “How did you know that?”
Y/N feels a spike of embarrassment in her stomach, and shyly avoids Harry’s eyes as she answers. “There was a photo of you with a group of guys in your apartment, in the living room.” She mumbles, tapping her fingers against her newly cleaned plate. “One of them— I think he was next to you in the photo?— had long hair.  Another had blue eyes, glasses… and brown hair, I think?  I don’t really remember the rest…”
Harry hums in the back of his throat, quiet and low. “That was probably Niall.” He guesses, finishing his own margarita and setting the glass down gently. “If I’m thinking of the right picture, then Xander was the one standing next to him.”
Y/N pictures the faces in her mind’s eye, imagining the two brunette boys in the clothing from the photo, slumped next to Harry on the couch of his stunning condo, knocking back pints of beer and plates of nachos as they watch golf on TV.  It seems strange to picture Harry doing something so… normal.  She forgets, sometimes, that he’s a regular twenty-six year old man.  In her head, when she thinks of Harry, regular is the last word that comes to her mind— even when he’s sitting across from her in a casual outfit, doing something as simple as eating dinner while he asks her about her day, Y/N struggles to remember that this man is just that: a man.  
Maybe, she ponders, as Harry stands up with the explanation of making more margaritas falling off his lips, it’s because she’s only ever really been alone with him.  With the exception of the club where they met, and his friends interrupting their weekend a few weeks prior (her cheeks flame at the recalling of the embarrassing memory), Y/N has only ever seen Harry in her own context.  
As the blender whirs to life behind her, the human twists in her chair to catch a glimpse of the object of her thoughts.  Even beneath his opaque shirt, she can see the muscles of Harry’s back flexing as he bends down to slice a lime, squeezing the juice into the top of the blender while holding his jeweled hand underneath to catch any seeds.  When Harry is around her, he’s charming, cocky, self-assured, and— on the extremely rare occasion— vulnerable.  What’s he like around his friends?  
Just as cocky, Y/N is sure; she can’t picture Harry letting go of his signature smirk so easily.  But does anything else about him shift when exposed to different company?  Is there different vocabulary that slips from his mouth?  What about his tone of voice?  Does that change, too, like Y/N’s used to when she was around Bradley, or when she’s with customers?  He mentioned earlier that he’d been watching golf, and that was the last sport she'd ever think he’d have an affinity for, let alone one he’d enjoy enough to make a day out of watching tournaments.  What other personality traits and pastimes is he keeping from her?  If she were to be a fly on the wall while he was with his friends, would she see someone completely unrecognizable in his Gucci boots and translucent shirts?
The sudden lack of noise from the blender snaps Y/N from her thoughts, and Harry detaches the pitcher and carries it to the table, filling her empty glass with a smile. 
“There you are, miss.” He winks at her quickly before filling his own cup and standing back from the table with a grin, his free hand folded behind his back as he straightens his posture. “Now,” He begins, his accent slipping into a more posh tongue as he bows his head lightly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
Despite her worries, a soft laugh rolls from Y/N at his impersonation of a server. “Yeah, actually.” She drops her voice lower again, plastering an angry expression onto her face as she reaches into her cardigan pocket and retrieves her phone. “Your wifi is down.  What kind of restaurant doesn’t have wifi?  Can’t you fix this?”
A loud snort echoes from Harry’s mouth as he sets the blender back down on the counter before sliding back into his seat across from her. “Sorry, love,” He laughs, his regular accent back in its place. “That’s a bit above my paygrade.  I can, however, offer you some compensation.”
Wrapping her fingers around the icy margarita glass, Y/N leans forward, resting her chin on her free hand as she appraises Harry with a kinked brow. “Is that so?” She replies in her regular voice as well, her interest piqued. “What kind of compensation?”
“It’s part of our Friday Night Special,” Harry slides his hand across the table and pushes the baggy rainbow sleeve of Y/N’s cardigan down her arm in order to brush his cool fingers up and down her bare skin. “And it features bottomless margaritas paired with cunnilingus from our most handsome waiter.”
A fluttering warmth begins to knot itself around Y/N’s core, but she does her best to keep her composure as she straightens her spine and glances around the apartment. “Sounds intriguing.  So where’s the handsome waiter?”
Harry’s pillowy lips plunk down into an exaggerated frown as he presses a hand to his chest, his other hand continuing to stroke over Y/N’s forearm. “Ouch, Watson.  That hurt.  Might need you to kiss it better.”
“Oh yeah?” Y/N challenges, lifting her drink to her lips and sipping it slowly. “Where exactly does it hurt?”
Instead of answering her query, Harry simply stands from his chair and rounds the table to stop in front of Y/N, extending his hand to her.  She lays her fingers inside his cool grasp, allowing him to pull her from her seat.  He’s closer than she realized, she thinks, as her chest brushes with his and the intoxicating scent of his cologne fills her senses, only getting stronger as Harry nudges her nose with his own, his lips just barely gliding over her own. The copper specks around his pupils glitz under the muted lighting, electric from the alcohol, from the sensation of her close proximity, and from the ever-present intention of getting between her legs.
When Harry finally speaks, his thick cadence washes over her just as much as his tequila-scented breath, his free-hand tugging suggestively at the waistband of her leggings. “If we go to your bedroom, then I can show you.”
“Mm, is that so?” The girl gives in to his gesture, stepping forward as the vampire begins treading backwards towards their new— though entirely familiar— destination. “You’re gonna show me, then?”
“I most certainly am.” The boy keeps their bodies close, making sure that his lips continue to just barely graze hers as he moves, teasing her nerves into a frenzy. “I plan on showing you over, and over, and over…”
Y/N can’t bring herself to resist the offer.  She’s only human, after all.
The next morning, Harry wakes up tangled in Y/N’s sheets to two surprises: the sheets on Y/N’s side of the bed are cold and bare, and that Harry is actually waking up.  
Although he remembers falling back onto the scattered sheets the night before (after coaxing three orgasms out of Y/N and her coaxing two from him in return), he doesn’t remember drifting off into the sleep he so rarely needs, and because of that, Harry feels disoriented and groggy in a way he hasn’t in a long time.  He does his best to blink the haze from his usually sharp eyes, knuckling at them with his cool fingers as he attempts to get his bearings.
His sleep-fogged mind struggles to recall what had happened after Y/N had fallen asleep.  She’d drifted off easily and quickly, her sweat-soaked body tucked into Harry’s with her head resting in the crook of his neck.  That noted detail sticks out in his memory because it had made Harry pause before biting her.  She’d been so comfortable next to him, and in such an inconvenient position that Harry didn’t want to shift her to drink. After debating with himself for a few moments, he’d eventually decided on an alternative and had lifted her fragile wrist to his lips.
Even half awake, Harry’s lips quirk up at the hazy memory.  He recalls the feeling of her hummingbird pulse thrumming beneath her delicate skin, practically vibrating against his lips as he stamped a kiss over her vein before biting down.  Her blood had a weaker flow there, but that was alright; he’d just sucked a little harder to coax the liquid from her body, feeling his mouth overflow with her welcomed taste as well as with the supernatural chemicals that inject into her system and dull any pain his feeding might cause. He’d been careful to gauge his consumption by the strength of her heartbeat, and when he’d finished, he’d sealed the wound with a bit of his own blood, as usual. He’d made sure Y/N was healed and settled back in his arms before relaxing into the pillows to listen to her breathing, the soft pillows and her radiating body heat feeling more soothing than usual. Somewhere between counting the movement of her lungs and the sun rising, Harry had fallen unconscious.
It’s strange, being up after Y/N.  Harry has grown used to rising before her and making breakfast, or even just coffee, and there’s something disorienting about being in her bed alone, without her inherent warmth and soft skin, and only the ghost of her sugary scent left behind.  He briefly wonders if this is how she feels when she wakes up to cold sheets and no one beside her (although Harry suspects the lack of his frozen body would make the bed a more comfortable temperature), and thinks that maybe he should begin to lay in bed with her a little longer; if he’s going to fake a relationship with her, it should be a relationship where her partner wants to be around her, and isn’t awake before the sun.
And that’s another thing.  The golden orange light of the rising L.A. sun is just beginning to stream through the closed curtains, so what time is it?  It can’t be any later than seven— on a Saturday, no less— and at such an early hour, Harry would expect Y/N to still be dreamily dozing in bed.  What had drawn her away from her comfortable position in Harry’s arms?
As the sun continues to rise, the light begins to streak onto Y/N’s empty side of the bed and, instinctually, Harry begins to reach for the beam, craving the warmth she took with her when she abandoned the sheets.  Instead of the expected touch of heat, however, Harry is jarred by a burning sensation ripping across his icy flesh.
The vampire yanks his hand back in a flash, his face screwing in silent pain as he bites back a yell of anguish, but the damage has already been done.  The tips of his fingers are puckered with red blisters, which throb as he flexes his hand in the safety of the shadows. Harry digs his sharp teeth into his lip harder, forcing himself to inhale slowly through his nose and exhale shakily through his mouth.
It takes a few moments for him to collect himself, breathing deeply with his eyes closed as he does so, and as he counts his own breaths like he’d counted Y/N’s the night before, what should’ve been an obvious thought enters his mind: why had he burned?  He’s wearing his lionhead ring, which has eyes made of those precious crystals that protect his inhuman skin from sunlight, and as long as he’s wearing it, the sun shouldn’t be able to…
Harry’s sight snaps completely open as he jerks forward in bed, his head throbbing from the sudden movement.  When he’d first awoken, he’d attributed his grogginess and dry eyes to sleeping for the first time in weeks, but as Harry’s jade gaze settles upon his uninjured hand, he realizes the truth.  That disorienting feeling isn’t from sleep, but from the sunlight that had begun to seep through the curtains and affect his body, bouncing off the glossy walls of Y/N’s room and reflecting off her picture frames and furniture.  What would normally not be an issue suddenly becomes the bane of his existence, and what usually isn’t able to affect his body immediately does, obvious in the agonizing sweltering writhing through every single one of his dormant arteries. And all because his lionhead ring is missing from its rightful place.
Granted, Harry hadn’t worn most of his rings to Y/N’s apartment the night before, seeing as how they planned to spend the night in, but he’d kept his mother’s opal and the lionhead securely on his middle finger and pinky, just as he always did.  The former brings him memories of his mother, and helps him keep a piece of her— and who he once was— with him in this strange modern time.  The latter had been a rebirth gift from a family he’d rather forget, and if it didn’t keep him from flambéing himself every time he stepped into the sun, he wouldn’t wear it at all. In all honesty, he probably would’ve chucked into Hell, if he could. 
But the reality of his afterlife is that Harry needs that ring.  So why is it missing from his hand?
Cradling his blistered digits to his bare chest, the wounded vampire tosses back the covers, careful to avoid the streaks of sunshine beginning to light up the small room.  His icy chest soothes the burn in his fingers, which are taking longer to heal than Harry would’ve thought, but if the grating itch of his dry eyes is any indication, the effects of the sun aren’t just limited to direct physical harm, but are also stopping his body from healing itself as quickly as usual.
Harry presses his good hand to his dizzy head and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet onto the ground as firmly as he can to center himself, refusing to cripple under the extraneous circumstances. He fishes his grey boxers from their signature spot on Y/N’s floor, slipping them on slowly as even the smallest of movements seems to strain his muscles beyond reason. As the elastic band snaps around his hips, another frightening possibility seizes his body: his mother’s ring could also be gone. He yanks his hand away from his head, and it takes his eyes a moment to focus on the opal ring.  At least he can breathe a sigh of relief about one thing— if his mother’s ring had disappeared, Harry’s not quite sure what he would’ve done.  
And that thought brings his spinning mind back to the present.  His lionhead ring is gone, and he can’t so much as step into sunlight without undergoing intense, insurmountable pain, so how is he going to find it?
Another groan falls from Harry’s mouth as he rests his forehead in his palm, propping his elbow against his knee so he can shield his eyes from the sunlight by hiding in between his legs.  Daylight talismans are extremely rare; he can’t exactly waltz into the nearest Wal-Mart and pick one up.  The crystals that give vampires such cherished immunity all date back to the medieval era, when vampires were considered mythical legends instead of just plain myths, and what few of the crystals are left are hidden deep within old ruins in the remote wilderness of Europe.  If Harry hadn’t been given his shortly after he was turned, he’s not sure he would have been lucky enough to own one.  He remembers Niall telling him how he had to search every night for months before he found a crystal hidden inside a ruin in Wales, and Xander had once recounted the story of stealing his from the vampire that turned him.  Even Mitch had struggled with the crystals before; although his ring had originally been a gift from the vampire that transformed him, he had to crack the crystal in half and set it into a new ring for Sarah when she had met her untimely demise. 
Vampires have been known to beg, lie, cheat, and steal in order to get their hands on a daylight crystal, so if someone managed to sneak in and take Harry’s lionhead ring while he and Y/N were sleeping, then Harry is going to have a fucking hell of a time trying to get it back. 
As the thought enters Harry’s dazed mind, a chill runs down his back, crawling across his spine and down his tailbone in an unsettling shiver as he slowly turns back to Y/N’s empty side of the bed.  If someone— if another creature just like him, who would be the only other person capable of recognizing such a treasure— got into the apartment and took his ring, and found an unconscious mortal girl with the sweetest honey and lavender liquid pulsing through her veins, then…
The sheets and curtains of the room blow in a breeze as Harry jets off the bed, forgetting to control his inhuman speed as he throws the sliding door open and stumbles into the hallway.  More sunlight streams through the windows of the living room, and it’s taking all of Harry’s dulled concentration to avoid the beams as he staggers towards the kitchen.
It’s not until the immortal smells Y/N’s familiar fragrance and hears the beating of her heart, in tune with her quiet humming, that the fear Harry hadn’t realized had tightened his chest flows out of him in one fell swoop.  He does his best to force even breaths in and out of his lungs, watching as Y/N raises her coffee mug to her lips and blows on the hot liquid before taking a small sip.
She’s dressed in his multicoloured patchwork cardigan again, buttoned up to provide her with warmth and modesty, but it slips down her bare shoulder in a way that allows Harry to see she’s wearing nothing underneath it.  Although the cardigan pools around her silky thighs— which are marked with bruises from the night before— Harry can see the tiniest peak of her panties beneath the fabric, and if he were in a better frame of mind, he might’ve noticed how they’re not the pair she wore last night (that pair had been ripped right down the middle in his frantic attempt to get them off).  However, Harry’s eyes quickly settle on Y/N’s hands, which, after she sets down her coffee cup, pick up Harry’s lionhead ring and begin turning it around in her fingers.
When he sees the ring in her delicate grasp, a wave of sheer rage begins to rumble through Harry’s chest, and it takes every fiber of his undead being to keep it at bay as he approaches the mortal girl. “Y/N,” Harry rasps lowly, voice heavy with the exhaustion that his newfound vulnerability has stacked onto his shoulders. He stands in the one spot of shadow near the kitchen counter, trying hard not to glower. “What are you doing?”
When Y/N turns her head to look at him, her sleepy face smiles softly, eyes nearly as bright as the infuriating sun. Maybe that’s why, Harry thinks, it feels like it burns.
“Morning,” She says quietly, her own voice just as sleepy as Harry’s as she picks up a grey cloth from the table and begins to run it over the ring with precision and care. “How did you sleep?”
It’s a simple, innocent question, and Harry knows that, but his mind can’t think in simple and innocent terms right now.  As the light filling the room begins to pound his head even more, Harry’s thoughts revert back to his most instinctual behavior— rough carnal impulse. “What are you doing?” He asks again, his voice lower than before.  He sounds dangerous, and he means to.  How could she possibly think that taking something from him without his permission is fine?
“I’m polishing your ring.” Y/N keeps that good-natured smile on her face as she replies, but Harry can see the smallest waver in it as she begins to sense his distorted energy from across the room. “It was tarnished, and I have a polishing cloth, so I thought I’d—”
“Give it back.” Harry doesn’t mean to snarl the phrase, but he can’t stop himself from doing it as he thrusts out his hand expectantly; it’s taking all his concentration to keep himself from baring his teeth and letting his eyes bleed red. 
Y/N doesn’t fight him on it, and drops the ring carefully into his awaiting hand without letting her warm skin meet his.  She watches with confused eyes as Harry slips the newly shined lionhead ring onto his finger, a breath of relief sighing from his red lips the moment the metal meets his skin. He finishes twisting it into its designated spot, and he feels like he can actually breathe again.
The human girl waits a moment for an explanation from Harry, some spoken word or action to justify the hostility rolling off of him as he clutches the jeweled hand to his chest.  As the moments pass, however, Harry offers no explanation, or anything at all as he takes deep and measured inhales through his nose, as if he’s trying to relax. 
“I’m sorry.” Y/N offers the words quietly, turning in her chair to properly face him with sincere eyes. “I just noticed that it was more tarnished than your other jewelry, and I thought I could—”
“You can’t take my rings from me.” Harry answers in a harsh voice, his face reflecting about as much warmth as stone on a winter’s day. “I thought I’d lost it.  You can’t do that.”
“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats the phrase again, gentler this time as she wraps her hands around her steaming mug.  She had guessed that the opal ring was his mother’s, but like Harry’s ruby ring and initial rings, she’d deduced this lionhead decal was more for decoration than anything.  If it was something important, one would figure that he’d take better care of it.  But it seems she’s not as adept at reading Harry as she’d like to think, because his explosive reaction had been totally unexpected.  For the first time since she met him, Y/N feels uneasy in his presence.  Had she really offended him that much?
The truth of the situation, unbeknownst to her, is that Harry’s reaction is no more purposefully malicious than Y/N’s intentions. Although the ring is back on his finger, and the crystals are beginning to protect him again, Harry’s thoughts are still muddied as he glances around the apartment, carefully surveying the circumstance like the top predator he pretends not to be.  There’s still a throbbing in his skull, and his eyes remain painfully dry, despite the fact that his healing has kicked in and mended his blistered fingertips.  In this moment, Harry feels weaker than he has in centuries; if someone were to attack right now, he wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough to protect himself. How could his aching head afford him any clear plan of attack?  How could his burning eyes show him every approaching danger?  How did he let himself become so relaxed— so stupidly lax— that he didn’t notice a mere human slipping off his most precious and needed object as he slept soundly in her bed?
“I really am sorry, Harry.” Rising from her chair with her quiet speech, Y/N steps towards him, hand outstretched to touch his inked forearm. “I didn’t know—”
Her hot fingertips against Harry’s frozen skin jar the vampire, triggering his fight or flight instincts as he tenses beneath her touch. “No—” He wrenches his arm away hurriedly, the searing graze reminding him of the sunlight that had harmed him just seconds ago, his wild eyes meeting Y/N’s in a feral frenzy. 
Although her chest barely moves, Harry can hear the stuttering breath that the girl sucks in through her teeth, her eyes widening at the severity of his actions. “I’m sorry.” She whispers the phrase again, her fingers jerking back from Harry’s arm in shock. “I…”
The more time passes, the more Harry regains control of himself, and as Harry melds his shattered composure back together, he can see the fear beginning to stain its way onto Y/N’s face.  The uneven beating of her heart pricks his ears, as does the scuff of the floor beneath her bare feet as she takes a step back from him.  When that uncertain fear reaches her irises, Harry is suddenly flashed back to their first date, when he’d been worried that she might be scared of being alone with him, and how delighted he’d been when he realized that wasn’t the case.  And now, as a sick feeling begins to settle in his stomach, he knows he’s blown it. 
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Harry urges himself to relax. 
“No, I’m sorry.” He softens his voice as much as he can muster in order to apologize, rubbing his charred eyes with one hand, hoping they’re still the canopy green Y/N is familiar with. “M’just half asleep still, and I was worried that— I’m sorry.” Harry extends his ringed hand in invitation, desperately craving the warmth of Y/N’s touch now that he’s leveled out, but not wanting to take it unwillingly. He wants her to feel safe enough to give it to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
There’s a moment of hesitation that flickers in her eyes, but it quickly passes as the mortal lays her hand within his. “You didn’t scare me.” She reassures him, but Harry can hear the falseness of her response immediately, and that guarded demeanor only intensifies the nausea rattling inside him.
Is she lying to save his feelings, he wonders, or to make herself look tougher?  No matter which may be the truth, Harry hates that she has to feel the need to lie.  He’d been upset, yes, but he should know better.  And he should know that she doesn’t know better.  She thought she’d been doing something nice for him; she has no idea about the torturous results his ring protects him from.  And she doesn’t know because Harry refuses to tell her— because he refuses to subject her to that perverted knowledge.  This is his own doing. 
“I did. I did frighten you, and I was rude, and I’m truly sorry.” Harry sighs heavily, dragging his fingers through his sleep-tousled curls. “My ring is just— it’s very important to me, and I don’t really like to take it off, so maybe just—just ask next time, yeah?” He murmurs the words in a soothing tone, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles in a poor attempt to make up for the way he’d berated her. “I know you didn’t have any bad intentions, and I’m not angry with you for taking it, but it just scared me when I woke up and it was gone.” 
“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats yet again, and although Harry can feel her melting into his touch, there’s still a hint of uncertainty lingering beneath her words. 
Harry forces a grin on his chapped lips, which he wets with his tongue before speaking again. “S’alright, dove.  No harm, no foul.  And no more apologies, yeah?” He brushes a finger over her cheek, trying his best to put on a lighthearted front for the girl. “It was rather tarnished, actually— needed a good cleaning.” 
A shy smile finally creeps its way onto Y/N’s face, and Harry has to stop himself from breathing an audible sigh of content at both the gesture and the lack of prying about why that ring was dirtier than the rest (the answer to said question is just as simple as it is complicated: it reminds Harry of someone he’d rather forget, and if he didn’t need it, he’d drown it in the deepest ocean he could find— keeping it clean is the least of his concerns).
“How about breakfast, hm?  It’s early, but we could make some pancakes, or—” Harry glances at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, reading the time with surprise before his gaze travels back to Y/N with a confused look. “It’s not even seven yet.  What time did you get up?”
“Around 6:15?  6:30?” She lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, and Harry’s cardigan slips down her arm with the motion. “I don’t really remember.”
With his other hand still squeezing her own, Harry rugs the sleeve of the cardigan back up her shoulder, smoothing it over her morning-cooled skin. “It’s a Saturday, darling.  What were you doing up so early?”
Despite her heartbeat having not quite returned to its usual tempo, Y/N nuzzles into Harry’s touch as he pulls her closer to him. “Couldn’t really sleep, I guess.” Tucking her face into his neck for a moment, Y/N indulges a penetrating inhale, enjoying the remnants of his mahogany and vanilla cologne before stepping back and past Harry to the cabinet.  
Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N opens the door and retrieves a pink flowered mug before sliding down the counter to her coffee maker. “Want some coffee?” She asks, touching the glass of the carafe lightly to make sure it’s still warm. “There’s butter in the fridge, I think, if you want to make your disgusting drink.”
Ignoring the dig at his beverage of choice— which Harry has explained to her, multiple times, has many health benefits (not that he needs them) and just tastes better than coffee with cream— the vampire leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest as his brow furrows over his darkening eyes. 
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He questions, his attention glued to Y/N’s actions as she seems to deliberately avoid his gaze.  He analyzes the dark circles under her eyes, apparent even from just her side profile, and a spark of concern ignites his chest.  Could this be his fault?  Is drinking her blood beginning to take a physical toll on her body?  His blood has been healing her bite marks, but what about her iron levels?  Is her circulation being affected?  Mitch has told him multiple times that drinking from humans is okay once or twice a week, as long as there’s a grace period in between feeding, but Mitch has also never had the same human for as long as Harry has had Y/N.  Have the weeks they’ve spent together begun to unravel her?
When Y/N simply shrugs in response to his question, and offers no other words of explanation, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he steps towards her, taking the now-filled coffee mug from her hands and setting it down on the counter.  He wraps his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, hugging the girl into his chest for a moment to get a gauge on her body’s response.  Her heartbeat stutters, yes, but that’s a usual response to being wrapped inside Harry’s embrace, and it returns to normal after a few beats.  Her body feels just as warm as it usually does, and her chest is rising and falling just as it should be.  Nudging his face into her hair, he breathes in deeply, filling his lungs with her fragrance.  No, nothing smells out of place, and her blood had tasted as delicious and as strong as ever last night.  If she’s having trouble sleeping, the cause isn’t anything tangible. 
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Harry mumbles the words into her hair before lifting his head up, extracting the girl from his arms just enough so that he can see her face. “If something is bothering you and keeping you up, then you can wake me up, too.”
Y/N worries her pillowy bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes become entranced by Harry’s rosemary gaze. “I know I could, but I didn’t want to.  You—” She swallows hard in an attempt to clear the thickness from her throat as her cheeks begin to burn. “You were sleeping, and I never see you sleep.” Y/N’s voice retreats into a sheepish tone at the admittance, her eyes falling from Harry’s stare to the floor between them. “You always fall asleep after me, and you’re always awake before me.  You need rest, too, H.”
While Harry would normally laugh at that simple phrase— at the fact that Y/N doesn’t know how wrong she is— Harry’s dimples remain dormant as he focuses on the concern in her voice. “I—” His voice catches in his throat, and he has to clear it before he can say anything else. “I sleep just fine.  Better, in fact, when I’m with you.” He confesses, his thumbs brushing over the exposed skin of Y/N’s neck. 
And after Y/N has extracted herself from his grip to take a sip of her coffee, after she teasingly groans while watching Harry drop a pat of butter into his own steaming mug, after he begins to crack eggs into a pan as Y/N starts to lay bacon on a baking sheet, after all that, Harry finally realizes what lodged in his throat. It dawns on him just as Y/N slips a pink apron over his bare, faintly hickey-bruised chest to protect him from splatters of grease, giggling to herself as he poses with his hand on his hip and makes a vulgar joke about how this looks like the setup to a cheesy porno. 
The vampire comes to the realization that Y/N takes notice of him. 
She notices when he doesn’t sleep.  She notices his exposed skin that could potentially be burned while cooking.  She notices the expressions on his face, reads the tone of his voice, knows when to press a matter and when to leave it be.  And she’s concerned.  She’s concerned about not seeing him sleep.  She’s concerned about him accidentally getting hurt.  She’s concerned about the swings in his moods, the shortness of his answers.  And while Harry knows her real concerns should be about allowing herself to be in such close proximity to someone— something— like him, he can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at the thought of her worrying about him. 
As much as Harry likes to pretend otherwise, he knows he’s not easy to be around sometimes.  He can be vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He can be selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  His mood can teeter at the drop of a hat, and he changes his mind like the weather on the best of days.  And on his worst of days, sometimes Harry wonders if anyone could care for him, or even stand to be around him, if it wasn’t a necessity. 
Although he’d never admit it, when Harry reflects on his friendships, he can feel a degree of insecurity in the threads that tie him to his crew.  He’s fairly certain that if he and Mitch met under different circumstances— circumstances when both of them were human— they would likely still be friends.  Maybe not as close as they are today, but friends, at the very least.  When it comes to Niall, Xander, and Adam, however… he’s not so sure.  Yes, he cares for them more than he’ll ever care for anyone again, and his loyalty to them is unwavering, but on his worst days, Harry can’t help but wonder if they would be friends if their connection hadn’t been forged on the basis of what they are, and understanding something that no one else can.  If being vampires hadn’t placed them in each other’s lives and sealed them in a bond of venom and blood, would they even have given the others a second thought?  Would any of them have wanted Harry in their lives?  Harry wants to think yes, but it’s not a question of what he wants; the truth is, Harry is uncertain. 
But when Y/N sits across from him with a smear of ketchup on her bottom lip, smiling softly at Harry as he wipes it off with his thumb, and he can’t stop himself from smiling back, he realizes something that’s never occurred to him before.  He’s able to be cared for by someone who is drawn to him for all the reasons humans are normally drawn to each other, and not because they have a mutual understanding of what it’s like to be an other.
Of course, he knows there’s a certain degree of falsity in that; part of his charm and addictive qualities come from what he is, and Y/N, like any other mortal, isn’t immune to that.  But instead of allowing herself to be driven away by the usual uneasiness that pairs with being so close to a vampire for so long, Y/N is leaning closer to him, laughing as he cracks a bad joke, kissing him over their breakfast, and showing evidence that she— against all odds— wants to know him.  And the thought sends a fluttering below Harry’s ribs. 
He wishes, just for a moment, that he could be capable of feeling the same. He wishes he could have the decency to give this girl the proper relationship she wants, or even the decency to break her heart quickly before she gets too attached to someone incapable of seeing her as anything more than a takeout meal.  He wishes he could get to know her— truly get to know her, without any ulterior motives.
But Harry is vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He’s selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  And he has his fangs too deep in this mortal to let her go. 
“Are you sure I can’t pick you up?” Harry slides his phone between his ear and his shoulder in order to snag his keychain from his pocket, fumbling for the right key before inserting it into his locked door. “I can just drop my groceries off and then swing by your cafe, love.  It’s no trouble.”
“No, really, it’s fine, H.” Y/N insists from the other end of the line, her voice nearly drowned out from the roar of L.A. traffic around her. “I already left work, and I’m nearly home.  I’ll be over at your place within, like, forty-five minutes, I think?  I just have to change out of my uniform.”
With his front door now unlocked, Harry grabs his phone from its perch on his shoulder before pushing open the door with his hand full of groceries, stepping inside his apartment and nudging the door shut with his foot. “I know, but it’s a long walk to my place, isn’t it?”
“It’s, like, twenty minutes— practically nothing.  And besides, I have to stop at the post office and mail a letter to my parents.”
The corner of Harry’s mouth quirks up as he rounds the corner to his kitchen, setting his grocery bags on the island before leaning his hip against the kitchen counter, his now free hand braced against the cool marble. “You still send your parents letters?  Can’t you just call them?” He asks, tapping a ringed finger against the stone.
“If you knew my parents, you’d send letters, too.” Y/N sighs into the speaker, and Harry’s inhuman ears can hear the jangling of her keys in her hand.  He can picture her searching for them like she did the night they met, digging into her purse until she’s elbow deep, her tongue tucked between her teeth in concentration.
Despite the distinctive sound of a lock turning, Harry can’t stop himself from asking about her well-being. He’s so used to doing it with his other friends, it slips out on impulse. “Are you home now?  Made it alright?”
There’s a hint of exasperated amusement in Y/N’s voice when she responds. “Yes, I managed to walk home all by myself.  Didn’t even get murdered.” There’s another thud, and Harry imagines her shutting her door, pushing her weight against it to lock it properly. “I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, you know.  I have good instincts.” 
If she’s allowed him to get this close to her, Harry thinks, then her instincts aren’t exactly the caliber she imagines them to be, but he bites his tongue to stop himself from correcting her. “I’m sure you do, darling.” He murmurs the reply as he opens his fridge to begin stocking it with the items he’d purchased earlier. “Oh, by the way, make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes, yeah?  We’re going to be doing a bit of walking later.”
“Right.  And you’re not telling me where we’re going because…?”
“Because surprises are fun.”
When Y/N huffs in response, Harry pictures the girl with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed tightly over her tummy as she gives him an endearing glare. “Not when you’re the one who’s being surprised.” 
Still, despite her protests, Harry hears the rustling of clothing as she pulls off her work polo, followed by the clanking of her belt, the snap of a button, and the familiar rustle of her jeans being peeled off her legs. “You just worry about undressing yourself, alright?  It must be difficult, since you’ve grown so used to me doing it for you.”
“Uh huh.  I’m hanging up now.” Y/N deadpans into the phone, but Harry can tell there’s a lingering smile underneath her flat words. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Alright, doll.  See you soon.” Harry sets a carton of eggs in the fridge before closing it, hanging up the call and slipping his phone back into his black slacks.  
It takes Harry a few more minutes to put the rest of his groceries away in his pantry.  He made sure to stock up on all the ingredients needed to make pancakes at the grocery store, as well as picking up a carton of the fancy pomegranate juice that Y/N had mentioned she was fond of.  In fact, as he was wandering the aisles of his local Whole Foods, he’d found himself seeking out the snacks that he’d seen in her cupboards.  He knows that humans need to eat much more often than vampires do, and seeing as how all the activities Y/N engages in at his condo are rather exhausting and energy-burning, he thought she’d need proper fuel.
After he folds the reusable cloth tote bags he’d brought to the grocery store and puts them back in the pantry, Harry climbs up his glass stairs to his bedroom.  He takes a moment to evaluate his appearance in the full length mirror hanging on the back of his door, sweeping over every detail with a careful eye.  His outfit is alright for what he has planned, he decides; his black slacks and scuffed white vans are comfortable, but more importantly, his white t-shirt embossed with a Hollywood Bowl print that clings to the muscles of his inked arms and broad chest, which Harry knows Y/N will enjoy.  His curls, however, need a bit of tending to, and Harry slinks into his bathroom to add a bit more product to his chestnut locks, getting rid of the little frizz that had developed in the L.A. heat in order to fix his curl pattern.  
As for his jewelry, he leaves on his usual rings: his gold initial pieces, his mother’s opal, his ruby, an engraved band, and his lionhead ring, which shines under the bathroom lights thanks to Y/N’s careful efforts the week before.  Once those are secure, he fastens his pearl necklace around his neck, and fixes the clasp of his cross before slipping a plain gold hoop into his pierced ear.  Once he’s satisfied with his accessories, Harry spritzes his favourite cologne across his body, giving his appearance one more look over as he leaves his bathroom and passes the full length mirror in his bedroom again.  
The Rolex on his wrist tells him that Y/N is due over any moment, and he’s just making sure his Gucci wallet is securely tucked in his trouser pocket when Harry’s ears prick up at the sound of two pairs of feet stomping into his condo downstairs.  It only takes him a moment more to identify the intruders based on their step patterns, and a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he checks the time again before sauntering down the stairs.
“And just what do you two,” Harry calls to his unexpected friends as he rounds the corner of the stairs, his eyebrow quirked in question as he steps down from the last platform, “think you’re doing here?”
“We wanted some change in scenery.” Niall quips sarcastically, emerging from the end of the entrance corridor with his hands in his pockets, shoulders shrugging casually. “And I told Xander you might be shirtless, which got him to tag along. But you’re not, much to his disappointment. Though I do think the way you’re about to burst out of that tee suffices. Isn’t that right, Xanny?” 
“That’s not true!” Xander snaps hotly, his cheeks blazing and glare electric as Niall cackles boyishly, stepping around him and towards the kitchen, like he always does when he walks into Harry’s apartment. The tanned man glowers at the other vampire as he makes a beeline for Harry’s refrigerator, slowly pinning his gaze back onto the owner of the condo. He clears his throat awkwardly before offering a solid explanation for their sudden visit. “Adam cancelled on pub trivia night, so we thought you might be available instead.”
Harry shakes his head with a sigh as he makes his way into the kitchen, as well— mostly to make sure Niall doesn’t reach for any of the expensive liquors he has arranged on his bar shelves; they took too long to collect for him to just allow a single person to down one bottle like a shot— and leans both elbows against the marble island. “Sorry, mate.  I’ve got a date with Y/N.”
“So bring her.” Niall pipes up from the fridge, a stolen bottle of Harry’s favourite beer already in his hand. Harry doesn’t complain— it’s a better substitute than his forty year aged scotch. “She went to uni, didn’t she?  She must be smart.”
“I’ve got better things planned for us than pub trivia with two obnoxious knobheads.” Harry retorts, his lips tugging into a smirk at Niall’s responding eyeroll. “That’s not very romantic, is it?  Taking her on a double date with you two?”
“And that’s not very nice, H. I’m offended you wouldn’t go on a double date with Xander and I.” The Irishman sniffles with fake sincerity, biting the bottle cap off his beer despite knowing that Harry keeps a bottle opener in the kitchen drawer to his right. 
Xander watches the spectacle with distaste, his nose wrinkling as Niall spits the cap from his mouth into his hand. “And I’m offended you’d think I’d date someone who does that.”
“It’s not like you have standards.”
“But then again, no one sets a bar the way I do.”
“The only bar you set for me was potential alcoholism.” Xander mutters spitefully.
“I’d make a great boyfriend.” Niall interrupts with airy confidence, ignoring his friends bickering and taking a deep swig of his beverage, smacking his lips appreciatively. “But humans are too fragile to keep around for long, and most vampires are fucking psychotic. Unfortunately.”
“What about Charlotte?” Harry suggests nonchalantly, hooking his index finger into the cabinet beneath him and fishing for a coaster. He shuts the drawer and skims the item across the top of the counter towards Niall, just in case the man wants to put his glass container down. This is real marble, after all. “She seems pretty tame.” 
Niall glances at the coaster, but doesn’t make any conscious effort to set his drink down. Harry should’ve known; Niall isn’t one to put a pint down until it’s empty, but the possibility is there, nonetheless. It’s not his fault he likes taking care of his home. 
Niall sighs through his nose dismissively, following it with a light rattle of his head. “Charlotte’s too...smart. She’s a bit out of my league, and I feel like she’d get bored of me easily. Also, how would you know if she’s tame or not? You rarely hang out whenever she’s around.” 
“That’s because she hates me.” Harry states flatly, as if it should be obvious. And it should, considering the young woman had not held back on expressing her strong dislike towards the curly brunette. Harry has thick skin and words never hurt him, but Charlotte has a surprisingly vicious vocabulary; if he hadn’t been amused by her anger, she would have come pretty close to genuinely chipping his ego. 
Niall chortles softly. “Well, I mean, you can’t really blame her, can you? You’re kind of a prick.”
“A proper asshole, actually.” Xander chimes in, drumming his digits against the table’s surface and giving Harry a bright, innocent smile. 
The immortal momentarily casts his eyes towards the ceiling in mild annoyance. “Yeah, well, that’s just the way I am. If her and Miss Billy Ray Cyrus can’t handle some dark humor and dirty banter, that’s not my problem. Everyone else seems to like me just fine.” 
“That’s debatable.” Xander corrects. 
“You’re just mad I fucked you once and decided that was enough.” 
“Anywho,” Niall interferes, waving around his beer in order to catch his friends’ attention and prevent a catastrophic World War V, he proceeeds to swivel the topic back onto himself, “like I said, I’d make a great partner. I’m funny, I’ve got a whole shelf full of PS4 games, I like to think my oral skills are pretty decent, and—”
“Have you ever made a girl wet her sheets?” Harry prods with entertained curiosity, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.
Niall pauses mid-sentence with his drink perched to his lips, eyes flitting around thoughtfully as he shovels through cluttered memories of drunken one night stands and fleeting relationships. He relents with a sheepish scoff, shoulders sagging. “...No.”
“Then you’re not as skilled as you think.” Harry remarks passively, titling his head to the side with finality. “And I’m willing to bet Mitch’s next stock of O negative that eighty percent of your hookups probably faked it.” 
“Oi, bet, then.” Niall snorts, grinning around the spout of his beverage as he finishes his sip. He wiggles his brows playfully, squaring his shoulders proudly. “You can’t fake a leg-shake, darling.” 
“A leg-shake?” Harry inquires carefully, pursing his lips to keep from sputtering into pompous laughter. “You mean like this?” He then proceeds to dramatically buckle his right leg, immediately debunking Niall’s ridiculous theory. “Just like that?” 
The Irish bloke’s face drops into a scorned scowl as Xander and Harry break into a round of mocking giggles. He draws into himself with childish pettiness, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “Piss off.”
“Unless she couldn’t walk right afterwards, you didn’t really do what you think you did, Ni.” 
“It seemed pretty real to me!” The blue-eyed boy rebuttals sharply, cheeks tinging bright pink in embarrassment. 
“That’s the point.” 
“This is precisely why I’d never entertain a relationship with you, even as a joke.” Xander pipes up towards Niall, smirking cruelly at his friend’s bruised ego. “I like my orgasms to be real, and I’m not willing to put up an act to spare your fragile masculinity.” 
“Your dick’s probably small, anyways.” 
“Bigger than yours.”
“Is that a challenge? I’ll pull it out right now, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Well,” Harry cuts in loudly, not necessarily keen on watching two grown men compare penis sizes in the middle of his home, “it seems you two have some issues to work out, so the double date is a moot point, anyways.” His jade eyes flicker to his watch again; Y/N should nearly be here, and he doesn’t want these two goons present when she arrives— especially not with their balls out. That wouldn’t be a decent introduction, despite being an unforgettable one. “So I’ll talk to you two later, then.  Thanks for stopping by.”
“Hold up, I practically just cracked my beer.” Niall whines in return, holding up the chilled bottle in protest, leaning his backside against the marble countertop with a decisive motion. “Y’can’t kick us out yet.”
Harry laughs once, the noise sounding more strained than he would like. “Seeing as how I didn’t invite you over, I think I can.” He retorts, tapping a jeweled finger against the table. 
“The blood bag isn’t even here yet,” Xander reasons as he pulls out a chair from the kitchen island, taking a seat and making himself at home as if Harry hadn’t just told him to get the fuck out. “So what's the rush?”
The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickles at the crude nickname, and the older vampire shoots daggers at the younger as he pushes himself off the marble counter. “There isn’t one, except I think hearing herself be referred to as ‘the blood bag’ may make her a little suspicious, don’t you?”
“We’ve referred to her as worse.” Xander shrugs offhandedly, kicking his feet up onto the bar stool next to him.
Harry’s brows furrow as he pushes Xander’s shoes off his furniture, dusting the leather cushion off. “Referred to her as what?  And when?”
Although Xander lifts one shoulder again as a vague answer, Niall smacks his lips loudly once again as he swallows the rest of the beer, and answers in a matter-of-fact tone. “In Vegas, after you ditched us to get your dick wet.  I think Xander called her a fuckable slab of kobe beef, and—”
“I said ribeye, actually.  Nice flavour, but a little chewy.” Xander corrects the Irishman, but has the decency to look halfway embarrassed when he catches Harry’s stony glare. “And it’s not like we’re wrong, right?  That’s all humans are.”
Niall gives an affirmative nod as he sets his empty bottle down on the marble counter, completely ignoring the coaster Harry had slid to him. “Don’t take it personally, H.  Xanny refers to his own dates as McDonald’s Happy Meal Twinks— at least a ribeye steak is expensive.”
“I’m not taking it personally.” Harry mutters the words in a low voice as his jaw twitches, tensing under the sunlight streaming through his floor-to-ceiling windows. “But comments like these are why you pricks need to get out of here before she shows up, or else I’ll be feeding from one of you tonight.”
A beat of silence falls between the three vampires as the palpable tension flowing off of Harry thickens the room.  Xander and Niall glance between each other and Harry, hardly able to hold the latter’s eyes, before Niall offers a small comment.
“I don’t think Xander would mind that, really—”
“Out.” Harry points a jeweled finger at the entrance corridor with a firm motion. “Both of you.  Go bother Mitch.”
He can see the disappointment and frustration that lingers on Niall and Xander’s faces, but neither of them fight him as they rise from their perches in the kitchen and walk dejectedly to the front door.  Harry briefly entertains the idea of walking them out, but decides against it; there’s a strange buzzing sensation rising through his ribs, and he’s not quite sure what he’ll say as he bids his friends— he has to remind himself that, yes, they’re his friends— goodbye.  It’s safer, he thinks, if he stays where he is and cleans up the mess that they managed to leave behind in their short visit. 
He comes to regret that decision, however, approximately three milliseconds after he hears the front door creak open, and a familiar but unexpected voice echos down the entrance hallway.
“Oh— hi.  Sorry, I may have the wrong apartment…?”
Harry freezes with Niall’s empty beer bottle clutched in his hand, his grip contracting so hard that he hears the thick glass begin to splinter.
“No, no, this is Harry’s apartment.  We were just leaving.” The grin on Niall’s face is audible underneath his Irish accent. “You must be Y/N.”
“I am, yeah.” Harry can hear the tiny thread of surprise at him recognizing her in the human’s words, and the even tinier thread of pleasure that undercuts it.  “And you must be...Niall, I think?  And Xander?”
Niall’s smug reply grates against Harry’s frozen skin, even from down the corridor. “Harry’s told you about us, huh?  Only good things, I hope.”
“Oh, I—”
Harry forces his legs to move with inhuman speed, the beer bottle not even having hit the marble counter by the time Harry appears at Niall and Xander’s shoulders. “Hi, darling.” He says through a strained smile, digging his stony fingers into the back of the two vampire’s arms, an unspoken warning of behave. “Y’made it alright, then?”
When Y/N shines a warm— albeit, slightly confused— smile in his direction, Harry wishes that he’d been faster in shooing his friends out the door, because the action nearly knocks the unrequired breath from his chest.  
She’d dressed in comfortable and casual clothes, as per his suggestion, and is standing just outside the doorway in light washed denim overalls, with a black and white striped t-shirt layered underneath, and her familiar cotton candy pink vans on her feet.  But the detail that digs its way to the forefront of his mind— more so than her satin lips, her heated cheeks that are appled with her smile, and the tousled locks that are pulled back from her face in a low ponytail— is the shining silver cross pendant that hangs on a chain around her smooth neck.
It’s a new addition that Harry has never seen before, and while he knows he shouldn’t be surprised— after all, she’d told him how she grew up in a religious town, how she’d attended church, how she used to say grace before dinner with her friends— the jewelry still piques his curiosity.
“I did, yeah.  It’s really not that long of a walk, H.” Y/N replies, flicking her eyes between Harry and his two friends, who are still watching her every move as if she’s a specimen to be observed. “Sorry, am I interrupting…?”
The Irishman with glasses— Niall, Y/N reminds herself— opens his mouth to respond, but Harry quickly cuts him off as he pushes past his mates to take Y/N’s hand and step outside the apartment, fetching his keys and yellow sunglasses from the small side table by the door in one smooth motion.
“Not interrupting anything, doll.  Niall and Xander were just on their way out.” Although Harry is smiling at her throughout the comment, the mortal can’t help but feel like the last phrase was aimed at the pair still lingering in the doorway.
“We were just stopping by to see if we could steal Harry for a last minute trivia game, but he said he was already booked.” Niall answers with an accepting shrug, glancing at Xander next to him, who’s still yet to say anything to Y/N, though he is carrying an unreadable empty expression as he gives the girl a calculating once-over. “Apparently, whatever he’s got planned for you two is more interesting than a few beers and watching Xander struggle to remember all the battles in World War I—”
“That’s not fair,” The brunette finally chimes in, breaking his attention away from her body to meet the blue-eyed boy’s gaze. Y/N is surprised to hear an American accent fall from his lips. “I’m the only one who wasn’t there, so how would I know—?”
“And you two are already arguing,” Harry cuts over his friends’ bickering, shooting them an annoyed glance as he wraps a cool arm around her waist, cautioning them to watch what they’re saying. “Which will only get worse once you get alcohol in your hands, and that is why I’m not going to subject Y/N to a headache-inducing night of torture.” 
Y/N looks up at Harry with innocent interest swirling in her eyes. “I don’t know, H, it could be fun.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as a crease forms between Harry’s brows. “Don’t you think?”
Niall catches Harry’s eye, taking advantage of Y/N’s distraction to cheekily flash him his crimson irises for a split second, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm that only he can detect. “Yeah, Harry. Don’t you think?”
Jaw tensing, Harry bends down to brush his lips over Y/N’s ear, dampening his irritation down into a smooth and silky tone. “Don’t try to spare their feelings, love.  I’ve got something fun planned for us, I promise.” His teeth graze against Y/N’s skin, and he nearly drags his lips down towards her neck until he remembers her stuttering heartbeat can be heard by the other vampires in their presence.
The two creatures gawk at the image before them, utterly baffled at Harry’s unusual tenderness. It’s very out of character for him, that much is obvious. In all the decades Niall and Xander have been acquainted with the Victorian era immortal, neither have ever seen him be so gentle and touchy with another soul, let alone a human. It feels as if they’re looking at some type of warped parallel universe version of the normally stand-offish young man. 
Xander is the first to clear his throat, throwing Harry an annoyed grimace before pulling Niall out from the condo’s entryway. “We’ll see you later then, Harry.  C’mon, Ni.”
The Irishman offers a quick goodbye, gifting the strange girl a frail wave and a parting smile before being half-dragged down the hallway by Xander. Niall wrenches himself free and shoves Xander’s shoulder playfully as they round the corner to the elevator, their quiet voices— no doubt spinning juvenile gossip— fading out of earshot.  The look in Xander’s eyes had been concerning, Harry thinks, but nothing he needs to worry about right now.  If anything, he wants to forget that encounter as quickly as possible, and needs Y/N to forget it, too.
“So,” he pastes an easygoing grin onto his face as he locks his front door, turning to the mortal with a giddy twinkle in his forest green eyes. “Shall we be off, then?”
There’s a lingering look of confusion reflecting back at him, but Y/N doesn’t press the odd encounter as Harry intertwines his icy fingers with her own warm digits. 
“Alright.” She agrees, raising a questioning eyebrow back at him. “And just where are we going?”
“The Los Angeles Antique Mall.” Harry announces proudly when he opens Y/N’s door, extending a ringed hand to help her out of his low-riding car. “Twenty thousand square feet of vintage collectables, artwork, furniture, and anything else you could possibly want.”
Y/N stares up at the massive building in front of them, observing the worn wood facade and the collection of what seems to be (half faded) stained rocking chairs adorning the wraparound porch.  There’s also an impressive amount of wrought iron planters with various greenery scattered between the furniture, with groups of people milling between them as they enter and exit the giant mall. 
“You brought me antiquing?” She asks, an bemused look in her eye as she turns to Harry for an explanation. 
Wrapping his large grasp around her smaller one, Harry nods enthusiastically as he begins to lead her towards the door. “Yeah.  It’s fun, actually.  I’m always up for a bit of a treasure hunt, and I thought, since you’re still furnishing your apartment…”
“You know, now that you mention it… I could use some new curtains for my living room.  Maybe a nice side table.” Y/N allows, stepping over the wooden stairs to the door as Harry tugs her along. “But I’m surprised you like antiquing.  Doesn’t really seem like your thing, if I’m honest.”
A mischievous glint flits through Harry’s jade eyes as he treats her to a grin that’s all teeth. “I’m actually quite fond of antiques, truth be told.  I’ve got a good eye for vintage collectables.  And…” He lazily tugs on the handle of the door to open it, stepping to the side to allow Y/N to walk through first. “Maybe we’ll find a nice painting to replace that god awful tapestry in your bedroom.”
A scoff of indignation falls from Y/N’s mouth as she turns on her heel to punch Harry’s sturdy upper arm, nearly getting too distracted by the ropes of muscle beneath his tight sleeve to give a response. “I like that tapestry!  And, seeing as how you’re either sleeping or fucking me when you’re in said room, I’m a little offended that my tapestry is the thing you focus the most on.”
Harry bites his bottom lip between his teeth.  If only she knew how much time he actually spends staring at it. 
“Well, there’s certainly other things I focus on…” He replies with a casual air, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Y/N’s overalls to cup her ass suggestively, guiding her along the aisles of antiques. “But nothing ruins a post-orgasm glow like poor interior design, sweetheart. S’a bit of a buzzkill, y’know?”
“So is being patronized.” Y/N deadpans, extracting Harry’s hand from her back pocket as a hot flash begins to creep up her spine. “You keep mocking my interior design choices, and your orgasms are going to get a lot less frequent.”
The vampire belly laughs as he throws an arm around her shoulders, the action as natural to him as breathing once was. “I don’t believe that for one fucking second.” He replies gleefully, smudging an open mouthed kiss to Y/N’s temple. 
“You don’t, huh?” The human girl raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to scan the towering racks of oddities all around them. “I wonder if we can find you a vintage fleshlight here?”
“Already got one, doll,” Harry rolls his eyes as he brushes his cool fingers along Y/N’s exposed collarbone, his eyes catching the cross pendant again and brimming with curiosity. “And it’s just the tip of the iceberg that is my toy chest, y’know that—” 
Y/N feels Harry’s arm suddenly tense around her, his muscles contracting as his touch jolts away from her collarbones, his hand flexing beneath the open skylights of the building. “Everything okay?” Y/N asks, all her teasing fading away, replaced with concern as she pauses her steps toward the shelves. 
“I—” Harry flexes his fingers again, slowly removing his arm from her shoulder to examine his hand.  The tips of his fingers are a bright red, crimson burns contrasting against his pink skin, and although it only takes a few moments for the marks to fade, the uneasy feeling bubbling in Harry’s stomach lasts. “Yeah.  My, uh, my hand just cramped.  But it’s fine now, I think.”
Who the fuck, he wonders as he cautiously slings his arm back around Y/N’s shoulders, wears a cross made of, not silver as Harry originally suspected, but polished iron?  
Iron jewelry had fallen out of fashion a century ago, and Harry had never been more thankful than when it did, given how his flesh scorches at merely brushing the metal. When he took his family’s trinkets as a way to remember them before he had to leave, Harry had snuck into his father’s forge in the dead of the night to dip the jewelry in gold that he’d stolen from a local merchant who cheated poor peasants out of their valuables.  It had been a tedious task, and rather dangerous due to the threat of being caught, but it had also been necessary; if he hadn’t taken the risk, he wouldn’t have his sister’s cross earring, or his father’s matching cross necklace.  His dad’s pocket watch, luckily, had been made of silver, and didn’t need a golden bath, but everything else had to be encased to protect Harry’s skin.  
Iron jewelry had been a deterrent to him in the years to come after he was turned; it wasn’t uncommon for him to find a pretty young girl from a village and sneak her away for a night of fun, only to discover an iron chain dangling from her neck when he leaned in to take a bite.  It wasn’t a permanent problem, of course, as there were plenty of other soft places he could sink his teeth into, but it had been an annoyance then, and it still annoys him now. 
Harry does his best to push the irritation to the back of his mind, he really does.  He shows Y/N around the twisting maze of antiques, and does his best to showcase one of his favourite hideaways in L.A.  He points to anything and everything that could interest her, and doesn’t hesitate when she asks him to reach something heavy perched on a high shelf, even if she just wants to examine it out of curiosity.  Harry pulls out typewriters, vintage cameras, tarnished cigarette lighters, and a pastel yellow bicycle with an attached wicker basket from 1941, presenting all of the objects with the enthusiasm of a showcase model on The Price is Right, spouting falsified information about each product in the best impression of Bob Barker he can pull off (“This ancient, rusted bicycle— once owned by the Queen of England herself— can be all yours for just one easy payment of $8.99! Taxes and shipping not included.”). 
And although all of that incites multiple tinkling laughs from Y/N, and lights a glimmer in her eye, and compels her to walk closer and closer to Harry until she lets him sneak his palm back into the backside pocket of her overalls, the mystery of her necklace still eats at the far end of his brain. And it’s that insipid, insistent pest of a thought that causes Harry to readjust his grip on the framed Monet print he’d spotted in the racks (Y/N had tried to deny how much she liked it in order to thwart Harry’s triumphant smirk, but she still asked him to grab it for her with a grumble) and spare another glance to the innocent looking cross resting atop her clavicle. 
“That’s a pretty little piece.” Harry slips into a nonchalant tone with ease, nodding towards the necklace as he navigates the two of them around a corner. “Why have I never seen you wear it before?”
Y/N brushes her fingertips over the iron cross with a gentle motion.  Her fingers don’t scorch with a mere graze of the metal, Harry notes scathingly.  Not that he expected it from someone like Y/N. 
“Because I don’t wear it often.” She replies, lifting one shoulder without a second thought. “It was my grandmother’s— not, like, originally, but she’d owned it, and gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, so I guess it counts as a family heirloom, huh?”
“Guess so.” The vampire murmurs in agreement, prickles of wonder still coasting against his skin. “So what made you drag it out today?” Did you subconsciously realize that your neck needs protection when I’m near? Harry tacks on in his head, his brow furrowing at the troubling thought. 
And at that question, Y/N’s eyes drop to the floor, as if her bubblegum pink vans need an audience for every step they take. “Uh, I was just a little homesick, that’s all.” She mumbles the reply, her shoulders sagging as a dark shadow passes through her usually dazzling eyes. 
Homesickness.  The one human feeling that Harry can still relate to. “I’m sorry to hear that, darling.” He removes his hand from her back pocket to wind it around her shoulders again, mindful of the jewelry in question. “Did anything in particular happen, or…?”
Y/N lifts her shoulders once again as she tucks her hands into her pockets, her posture closing off more and more with every passing moment. “Not really.  I don’t know, I— normally I’m fine, but when I addressed my letter to my parents today, it took me a moment to remember my ZIP code.  It’s the same ZIP code I’ve had all my life, but… I nearly forgot it.” She glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, and Harry realizes that dark shadow is guilt.  She feels guilty. “I’ve been in L.A. for less than six months, and almost forgot my parent’s ZIP code.  I didn’t think that could ever happen.”
Harry hums low in his throat, a noise of understanding and finality.  It’s homesickness, that’s all.  That’s explainable, and understandable, and should be enough information to silence the gnawing irritation in his chest. 
And yet...
“Do you believe in God?” The question escapes from Harry’s mouth before he can even think to censor it, his own eyes widening on his behalf as his grip on the Monet print nearly releases from the surprise. 
“What?” Y/N stops in her tracks, although she nearly stumbles forward when Harry’s sturdy arm catches behind her shoulders as her eyes boggle at him. “I don’t— what does God have to do with antiquing?”
If Harry didn’t have to worry about digging himself out of the whole he created, he’d laugh at the incredulous expression on his lover’s face. “I was just curious, s’all.” He struggles to keep his voice casual, steadying his feet against the wooden floor in an effort to ground himself mentally. “I know you were raised with religion, but you don’t really go to church here— not that church equals a belief, but—”
“Um, I don’t…” Y/N extends her arm to let her fingers graze over the shelf of old lunch boxes next to them, feeling each dip of every embossed cartoon character. “I don’t know.  I don’t really believe in, like, a concept of God— at least, not the one I was raised with.  But I believe in…” She trails off as she attempts to gather her thoughts, chewing on her bottom lip absentmindedly as she searches for the right words. “Something.  I don’t really know if it’s a deity, or an energy, or just coincidence, but… I think there’s something out there that guides us.”
“So you believe in souls.” Harry’s mouth presses into a flat line, his jaw clenching for just a moment as he grits his teeth and then reiterates her previous point. “The thing that allows us to be guided, that is.” 
Or allows her to be guided, Harry thinks bitterly, casting his eyes towards their path ahead of them to avoid Y/N’s prying gaze. That’s really the only reason he’d brought up this entire religion conversation— the only reason he ever brings it up: he wants to know if she believes in souls, because in order to be guided by whatever higher power supposedly exists, one needs a soul.  And Harry’s fairly certain his was stolen from him in 1837. 
“I suppose.” Y/N allows, tracing the embossed lettering of a vintage Wonder Woman lunch box. “A soul, an energy, an aura— they’re all kind of the same thing to me.  The thing that keeps your heart beating.  I don’t think it needs to be tied to a religion; there’s so many different religions, but everyone has a heartbeat, you know?”
Harry nearly laughs out loud at the irony, but manages to stifle the sound into a non-committal hum. “Does your something include heaven and hell, or is that too based in Christianity?” He asks, half out of curiosity and half out of necessity. “If someone were to lose their soul…” He knows he sounds insane asking the question, but it bubbles out of him before he can choke it back. “Would you think them damned?”
The mortal girl stares at him blankly for a moment, her mouth just barely open as she considers his words.  He shouldn’t have asked, and he knows that— he knew it the moment the first question fell from his lips.  But the more they discussed the topic, the more it nagged at him.  Y/N, with all her good nature, her listening skills, and her soft heart, are most certainly bound for whatever good lies in store when a soul actually leaves a body.  Harry, on the other hand… If the monster’s conscience were to ever leave this Earth, he knows it’s not for the metaphorical pearly white gates. And for some reason, that notion bothers him more right now than it has in the last twenty decades.
“Um…” A nervous laugh echoes from Y/N’s mouth, the smile curling the edges of her lips not quite reaching her eyes. “Okay, this topic is way too serious for me to discuss sober.  Can I take a rain check on the damnation questions?  I’m getting Sunday school flashbacks, and living through that once was bad enough.”
Harry wills a smile onto his own face, but the expression is more apologetic than anything as he grips Y/N’s hand in his to tow her down an aisle of antique kitchen equipment. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you with such heavy questions. I guess I just wanted to get to know my partner in justice a bit more.” 
Y/N takes it in good stride, just as she usually does, her smile relaxing the moment she sees Harry’s dimples peek out from his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, Sherlock.  I’d expect nothing less from such an established detective.”
As the pair pass under another skylight, Y/N’s cross glints at Harry as if to mock him. 
Y/N isn’t lost.
To the untrained eye, the mindless path she takes through the towering and twisting rows of the antique mall may seem like the wandering of someone who has no recollection of where they came from, nor where they’re going, but Y/N is adamant that she isn’t lost.  She isn’t, because when she split from Harry to take a trip to the washroom, he’d warned her not to get lost in the internal maze of the mall.  And Y/N, with a glare in her eyes and a scathing remark on her lips, had assured him that she, a grown woman, would be able to find her way back after she was done, and “Honestly, H, just wander a bit.  I’ll be able to find you easily.”
So Y/N isn’t lost, because she refuses to prove Harry right.  He’s already a cocky asshole with a huge ego, and she couldn’t bear seeing that ego enlarge as a triumphant smirk paints over his face the moment she calls him on his cellphone, admits defeat, and asks him to come find her.  She’ll do a lot of things for that man, but that isn’t one of them.
With that in mind, she turns down a corridor of the labyrinth of collectables, trying to find any discernible items that she could use to pinpoint her location in the labyrinth.  The yellow bicycle, maybe, or one of the vintage cameras Harry had pretended to photograph her with, or even the strange five foot carving of Bugs Bunny that she and Harry had agreed is probably possessed by a demon.  A haunted Bugs Bunny could lead her to her destination— or kill her, truthfully, but either option seems preferable over the solidifying future of having to call Harry.
After another five minutes of aimless ambling, Y/N retrieves her phone from her pocket, a grimace crawling its way onto her face as she opens her contacts to click on Harry’s name.  Her finger hovers just over the phone icon, mere millimetres from humiliation, when a few out of place piano notes float by her ears and catch her attention.
Y/N tucks her phone back into her overall pocket as her curiosity takes over, urging her ears to strain towards the distant melody, as well as for her legs to follow. It’s not long before Y/N is walking with purpose again, albeit a different purpose than before.  As the music gets louder, Y/N begins to pick out more details— how the piano notes that prick her ears are slightly out of tune, how the player begins and stops and begins again, dragging out different phrases, speeding through others with no clear intention.  The minor key of the piece makes Y/N feel like she’s walking into a memory as she wades through the shelves of long-forgotten belongings, old photographs of deceased people in Victorian fashions watching while the young woman falls back in time.
The music grows louder as Y/N reaches a dark corridor with wood paneling lining the walls, and a painted sign saying “Music Room” beckons her down the passageway.  She follows with slow steps, and while she knows that maybe leaving the main mall area and losing her way down here isn’t a smart idea, the music that’s beginning to grow impossibly sweet pulls her forward.  Y/N rounds the corner to find the oak doors to the music room swung open, and when she lays her eyes on the figure sitting at the mahogany ground piano, she recognizes the silhouette of Harry’s back and shoulders immediately.
Y/N’s gaze falls from his flexing shoulder blades to his inked hands, the jewels on his rings catching the low light of the room as his lithe fingers dance over the dusty ivory keys.  He coaxes a melody from the instrument without any difficulty, as if the music had been simmering beneath his skin for ages.  Maybe it has, Y/N thinks, as she watches from the doorway with quiet wonder, and although she plans on silently observing for as long as she can, Harry only completes a few more phrases before the music drifts to a halt.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d find me.” He murmurs, clearing his throat of the rasp that had settled in his vocal chords as he played. “Thought I’d be getting a scared phone call any moment now.”
The human girl steps into the room slowly, gliding around to the cut out of the piano and leaning across the lacquered wood. “I wasn’t scared.  And I would’ve found you sooner if you’d stayed put. I said wander a bit, not all the way across the building.” She retorts jokingly, trailing a finger along the smooth edge of the piano. All of the sarcasm in her voice melts right out, replaced by intrigue. “I didn’t know you played piano.”
“I, uh, I don’t.  Not much anymore, anyways.” Harry runs his digits between the keys again, using only enough pressure to dust the top of the ivory covers. “I wasn’t sure I’d remember how, honestly, but this…” He lifts an index finger to brush the dust off the gold embossed brand name. “It looks like the one I learned on, so…”
Y/N takes a seat on the wooden bench next to Harry, her shoulder bumping against his as she leans in to smudge a kiss across his cheek. “It sounded beautiful.” She assures him, noting the hesitation in his explanation. “What’s that piece called?”
“It’s one of Chopin’s Nocturnes, in C-Sharp Minor.” Harry curves his fingers over the keys, as if he’s about to begin again, but then relaxes the digits as he exhales harshly. “I don’t play it as well as— as the person who taught me.”
There seems to be a hidden story beneath those words, but Y/N doesn’t press it; if Harry wants to tell her, then he’ll tell her.  If not… Well, she’d rather not drag a sour memory from him in the middle of an antique mall.  Instead, she drags her fingers over his thigh, rubbing just above his knee in a comforting manner. 
“How long have you been playing?” She asks softly, tracing over a black lacquered key with her free hand.  When she pulls away, her finger is coated in dust, and she wonders how long it’s been since the piano has been touched by someone else.
The corner of Harry’s lips twitch, as if her question is particularly humorous. “A while.” He answers simply, and he tilts his head to the side to press his face against the top of Y/N’s head, inhaling the scent of her favourite shampoo. 
“A while?” Y/N repeats the vague answer to prompt further explanation, but when she gets none, she switches to another inquiry. “Can you play me something?”
The moment she utters the question, Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No, I— no.  I’m not that good, love, and I don’t really play for people.”
Surprise colors Y/N’s voice when she replies, lifting her head from Harry’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “This isn’t the time for false modesty, H.” She says, tapping two fingers against his knee as punctuation. “Since when have you been humble?”
A bark of a laugh escapes Harry’s chest in spite of himself, and he curls his fingers over Y/N’s to move her hand further up his thigh. “I’m not modest!  Don’t insult me like that, darling.  S’not nice.”
“Prove it, then.” Y/N massages over Harry’s inner thigh as she issues the challenge, baiting the vampire’s ego with ease. “Play me something.  Show off a little bit.”
Harry squeezes Y/N’s hand once as a quiet groan twists his lips into a pout. “You’re getting pretty good at manipulating me, y’know that?” He mutters, poising his lacquered fingertips back over the instrument. “Fine.  Do you want something sad or happy?”
Y/N ponders the question as she leans her head back onto Harry’s shoulder, her lips finding the edge of his jaw and pecking his cool skin for just a moment. “Both.”
“Both.” Harry repeats with a snort, shaking his head in exasperation as his hands drift to a new position on the keys. “Indecisive little thing, aren’t you?”
The mortal girl lifts her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, scratching her nails along the fabric of Harry’s pants. “Just play me something.  Please?”
It’s the simplest request with the most complicated implication, but Harry can’t find a good reason to refuse it. 
“This is, um, another Chopin piece.” He feels clumsy in his explanation, struggling to remember the details that he’d once memorized in an effort to seem impressive. “Another Nocturne, in E-flat this time.”
Harry’s fingers begin to dance over the keys, and Y/N listens in amazement as a melody that is both happy and sad begins to spiral out from the body of the piano, wrapping her inside the warmth of the music.  
Not every phrase is even— the more Harry plays, it seems, the more the music phrases, bending and shaping itself around his elegant fingers, rolling with his every movement.  As the music begins to get sadder, however, Y/N notices the change in Harry’s face, and how each phrase begins to get choppier as his fingers stumble their way over the keys. 
Y/N smudges another kiss against Harry’s jaw when his fingers trip up again, squeezing his knee with reassurance. “Keep going.” She murmurs, rubbing his leg lightly as the music stutters again. “It’s nice.”
“I—” The music halts with a jerk of Harry’s hands, which he retracts from the keys as if the ivory burns him. “I don’t remember the rest.” He mumbles, laying his stubbled cheek against the top of Y/N’s head. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.  I really liked it.” Y/N trails her own fingers over the keys, pressing a few of the lacquered notes with idle interest.  The melody she spins out isn’t nearly as nice as the one Harry played, and she laughs at her own expense. “I’m not nearly as good.  I took a few lessons as a kid, but begged my mom to let me quit.  I wish I’d stuck with it.”
“That wasn’t too bad.” Harry’s dimples wink at her as he smiles boyishly, nodding to the keys with false reassurance. “That little tune sounded a lot like Mozart.”
“Uh huh.” The mortal girl rolls her eyes at the lie, bracing her palms against the polished wooden bench before rising from her seat. “Despite that praise, I don’t think I’ll be adding this piano to my shopping cart.” 
“Hm.  Too bad.” Her lover trails his fingers after her, reaching for her hand and intertwining her grasp with his. “It could make a pretty addition to your apartment, I think.”
“It would take up my entire apartment, more like it.” Y/N scoffs as she raps the fingers of her free hand against the side of the piano. “I don’t even think I could fit this in my living room.  Your apartment, however…” She raises an eyebrow as a grin works its way over her face. “You could fit it easily.  You should buy it.”
Harry rolls his eyes as he lets her hand fall from his palm, touching the keys one last time before shutting the cover over the keyboard. “I’m not buying the piano.”
“Why not?” Eyes widening in surprise, Y/N leans onto the instrument, gesturing with her arms the same way Harry did earlier as she shifts her voice to mimic Bob Barker. “It’s made of genuine mahogany, was once played by Beethoven himself, and can be yours, for the low, low price of—” She reaches around the side of the instrument to grab the tag tied around the leg. “Eight hundred and—holy shit, are you kidding me?”
Harry hums in response as he rises from the bench, shrugging his shoulders before crossing his arms around his tummy. “That’s actually a fairly good price for a used piano, you know.” 
Y/N blinks at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find words. “I— okay, yeah.  Sure.  So you should get it, then, if you consider that a ‘fairly good price’.” 
“I could,” Harry agrees, his muscles flexing beneath his tight t-shirt as he reaches to pick up the painting leaning against the instrument. “But I won’t.”
Her brow wrinkling in confusion, Y/N watches as Harry begins to examine the other objects in the room, turning his attention to the book-lined shelves and antique lamps. “Why?” 
The man sighs as he fingers the tassels hanging from a— in Y/N’s humble opinion— particularly ugly lamp. “Because I already have one—”
“You do?”
“—but it’s been in storage ever since I got to L.A. And while I usually love things in excess… alcohol, statement jewelry, orgasms—” He flashes a toothy grin at Y/N. “I don’t think overly-heavy instruments fall into any of those categories.”
“Why is it in storage?” Y/N asks, bemusement laced through her voice.  Before Harry began to stumble through the piece, there was a look on his face that Y/N hasn’t seen very often; a serene air swirled through his eyes, hiding something beneath it that Y/N couldn’t quite make out.  And she wants to. 
“Because I don’t have any interest in playing anymore.  Honestly, darling, I haven’t thought about it in years.” Harry laughs in a nonchalant manner, moving from the antique lamp to the creaking rocking chair in the corner. “Y’can have it, if you like.  Probably do you more good than me.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at the deflection, turning her attention away from the topic at hand. “I’m good.” She responds dryly, drifting over to the floor to ceiling bookshelf bolted to the wall. 
Her eyes trail over the exposed spines of the books, reading over the variety of titles with piqued interest.  The amount of genres she sees is countless, ranging from trashy paperback romance novels to timeless classics embossed in gold.  The farther up Y/N glances, the older the books appear, and she gets more and more curious as she glides her fingers over the rippled covers of the books within her reach.
While the novels climb up the height of the bookshelf to the ceiling, Y/N can only manage to reach halfway up the length she needs to, even while stretching on her tiptoes.  She settles down on the balls of her feet with a pout playing on her lips, her attention turning to the wheeled ladder that runs along bars bolted to the bottom of the shelving unit.  It looks rather old— like everything in the antique mall— and Y/N isn’t quite sure it’ll support her weight, despite her test of gripping a rung and pushing on it.
“Harry, c’mere,” She calls over her shoulder, hands gripping the sides of the dusty ladder as she balances a foot on the bottom rung.
Upon her beckoning, Harry saunters over, the painted print she’d selected still grasped in his ringed hand. “Yeah?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in question. “What is it?”
“Can you help me climb up the ladder?” Y/N nods her head towards the far-reaching shelves, biting her bottom lip with pleading eyes. “I want to see what’s on the top shelves.”
Harry’s gaze follows Y/N’s gesture towards the top of the library wall, a look of trepidation flickering through his eyes. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes,” Y/N answers curtly, lifting her other foot onto the bottom rung before moving from her original step to the next. “And it’ll be a lot easier if you help me.”
Despite his protests, Harry sets down the framed print and complies with the request, grasping Y/N around her waist with firm hands as she scurries up the rickety ladder.  She can feel his fingertips pressing into her love handles over the denim, and it would be a lie to say she doesn’t enjoy it, but she refocuses her attention onto reading over the embossed titles that she couldn’t see from below.
“Y’know, on second thought… take all the time you need, dove.” Harry calls from below her, the smirk evident in his voice as he squeezes her hips once with a laugh. “I’ve got quite the view from here.”
Rolling her eyes, Y/N releases one hand from the ladder to tug a novel off the shelf, examining the half exposed cover before sliding it back into its place. “I bet you do.” She retorts, wiggling her hips just enough to tease him without losing her precarious balance on the ladder.
Although the motion is meant to be a joke, Harry can’t stop the flash of genuine fear that ignites in his chest.  Humans are fragile, he knows, and a fall from the height that Y/N has climbed to could sprain her wrist, or injure her back, or crack open her skull like an egg, or—
“Careful there, Watson.” Harry attempts to disguise the worry in his voice behind a lighthearted joke as his grip on the human girl strengthens. “Wouldn’t want an accident to happen, now, would we?”
“That’s why I’ve got you, Holmes.” A tinkling laugh falls from her lips as she risks a glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight with amusement, before turning her attention back to the old novels. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me, would you?”
There’s a nervous truth hidden underneath her words, and Harry knows it, but that doesn’t stop it from making his skin itch as the casual phrase sinks into his body.  In all his years, however, Harry’s gotten quite good at hiding his emotions, and this is no different.  
Instead of giving a sincere answer, Harry hardens his reply of “F’course I wouldn’t, pet.  Y’can never be too careful.” by letting one jeweled hand drift from Y/N’s hip to her backside, cupping it gently to support her, and taking delight in the way he can feel her body tense beneath his new touch.
It takes Y/N a moment to find her breath again, and when she does, all she can muster is a hum in the back of her throat. “Mhmm.” She sighs, trying her best to refocus on the books lining the shelves in front of her as she climbs higher. “Is that why your hand is grabbing my ass, you pervert?”
“Y’know, that seems to be your favourite nickname for me.” Harry’s smirk deepens as he contracts his hand, squeezing her fleshy backside after she takes another step higher. “I wonder why that is?”
“I wonder.” The flat response echoes from Y/N’s mouth as she pulls another book from the shelf to examine it before replacing it a moment later. “Maybe— and this is just a suggestion, so take it with a grain of salt, but— maybe if you didn’t act like a pervert, you’d get a nicer nickname.”
Although Y/N’s retorts are droll and to the point, Harry can hear the way her heartbeat begins to stutter each time he massages her, and it’s that fluttering rhythm that encourages him to grasp the sides of the ladder with both hands and pull himself up a couple rungs. 
“A nicer nickname, huh?” He breathes in her ear, pressing his chest to her back both to be close to her and to give her more support on the ladder. “Like ‘slut’?” Harry stifles the groan that nearly rolls from his throat when he feels Y/N stiffen. “That’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?”
“I—” Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, Y/N grips the sides of the ladder tight between her hands, her skin stretching over her tense knuckles as Harry’s breath begins to hit her neck. “Maybe. I...I suppose.”
Harry laughs quietly as he takes another step up the ladder, keeping himself braced against Y/N as he begins to smear kisses along the side of her neck, mindful of the iron cross that still hangs there. “You suppose?” He repeats, his tone slightly mocking when he hears the mortal shudder. “What about your other favourites?  Y’like when I call you my pretty little plaything, don’t you?”
The honey and lavender fragrance wafting over Harry intensifies as Y/N’s blood pumps faster and faster, the only sound emerging from the human girl being a quiet whimper from the back of her throat.
“There’s another one, though… another nickname…” Letting his teeth gently graze her earlobe, Harry whispers directly in Y/N’s ear, keeping his voice low and throaty as he does so. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, baby...” He suckles sloppily along her pulsing neck, delighting in the taste of her sweet skin in his mouth. “Remind me what it is?”
Already, Y/N’s breathing has grown ragged, and he waits a moment for the aroused girl to form a response, encouraging her with every nip of his teeth.  Just when Harry is about to ask again, she manages to choke out a reply.
“Whore.” She whispers, the embarrassment in her voice overpowered by the lust running through her veins. “I like it when you call me your whore.”
“That’s my good girl.” A satisfied smile tugs at the edge of Harry’s lips as he stamps a gentle kiss to Y/N’s jaw. “That’s another one, too.  My good girl.  And because you’re my good girl…” Harry snakes his right hand from the rung of the ladder to the buttons of Y/N’s overalls, deftly undoing the side snaps and gradually slipping his hand into the space between the denim and her clammy skin. “You’re going to keep looking for your books while I have some fun.”
Y/N lets out a broken gasp as Harry’s fingertips graze over her cotton panties, and her grip on the railing slackens as a rush of heat falls between her legs. 
“Careful, baby.” Harry cautions her, his left hand wrapping around hers and resetting her grasp on the ladder. “Can’t have any fun if you let go, hm?”
“We—” She twists her head to the side, straining to look over her shoulder and towards the entrance as Harry’s digits dance over the dampening spot on her panties. “Someone could walk in, Harry—”
Of course someone could, Harry thinks, but exhibitionism is so much easier to indulge when one has inhuman hearing that can detect the pounding of an approaching heart from fifty feet away.  He doesn’t disclose this information to Y/N, however, for a number of reasons, and instead chooses to scrape his teeth along the shell of her ear once more, his ruby lips soothing the marks instantly. 
“You let me worry about that, alright?” He murmurs lowly, sliding Y/N’s cotton panties to the side and dragging his index and middle finger through her dripping folds, enjoying how she shivers against his chest. “You just focus on finding the book you want and being a good little whore for me, princess.  Let me take care of the rest.”
When Y/N reflects on this moment in bed tonight, her clammy palms twisting around the sheets as she inhabits the memory of Harry’s mint-scented breath swirling around her as he massages two fingers around her throbbing clit with a teasing touch, one specific detail will stick out to her.  She won’t focus on how her heart is pounding so hard that she feels her chest might burst, or how her fingers shake as she reaches for another book on the shelf, per Harry’s quiet but intent instructions.  The thing that Y/N will remember in wonder and— on some level, self consciously— is how quickly the anxiety that spikes through her veins at the possibility of someone walking in and finding the two of them in such a compromising position bleeds into a high like no other.
Y/N likes to entertain the idea that she’s fairly adventurous, and has been open to a lot of things, especially since meeting Harry, but this— allowing him to finger her in a music room at an antique mall, where any customer or employee could discover them— is something so outside of her character that Y/N can’t think straight.  When Harry first slips his long middle finger inside her slick center, the girl nearly collapses, and Harry’s broad chest braced behind her is the only thing that keeps her upright on the ladder.
“Y’like that, doll?” Harry’s hot breath rolls over her neck as he purrs the words, adjusting his grip on the side of the ladder as his other hand skillfully toys with the human in slow and deep strokes. “Filthy little thing, you are, letting me play with you like this.”
The sinful remark draws a mewling moan from Y/N’s mouth as her head dips back onto Harry’s sturdy shoulder, her hands dropping all pretense of searching for a book and clutching the ladder like she normally clutches her sheets, or the headboard of whoever’s bed Harry has tossed her onto. “H-Harry…” She whimpers, her eyelashes fluttering as he circles his thumb around her clit. “Fuck…”
“You pretend to be so sweet, but you and I know the truth, don’t we?” The vampire sponges another kiss along her throat as he delights in the wet sounds his fingers make, which easily become drowned out by the quiet noises of bliss leaving his lover’s mouth. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”
Y/N nods fervently as she allows her weight to fall back against Harry’s sturdy chest, trusting him to support her as he thrusts another finger inside her. “Anything, H, I—” The desperate proclamation is cut off as Harry curls his digits, bumping against the spot in the pit of her tummy that sets her entire nervous system on fire. “Shit, right there, baby, right there…”
Harry’s smug voice rings in her ear as he slows his stride, dragging his fingers in and out of her hot core at a pace that’s nearly criminal. “Y’don’t need to tell me, I know.” He pushes himself forward again, flushing Y/N between his chest and the ladder with just enough room to continue his activities. “I know what you like, how you like it, where you like it… Know my girl so well.”
As Y/N adjusts to the newly close proximity, the bulge in Harry’s slacks grows more apparent, rubbing against her backside over and over with each plunge of Harry’s fingers.  She lets out a strangled whine at the feeling, carving her teeth into her bottom lip in an effort to keep herself quiet. 
“You feel me, don’t you, minx?” Harry moans into her ear, catching his teeth along the shell before dragging them down her jaw to settle his lips just above her throbbing pulse point. “You feel what you’re doing to me?  How just a single whimper from those pretty lips, and one touch of your soaked cunt makes my cock ache?”
Despite her best efforts, a ragged sob breaks through Y/N’s self-imposed gag order, and her chest heaves within Harry’s tight embrace as her head lolls to the side. “I-I want it.” She pleads, her half-lidded eyes struggling to find Harry’s emerald irises in her haze. 
Those sea glass eyes, darker than she’s ever seen them, widen with fake surprise as his mouth curls into a smirk.  When Harry replies, his normally soothing dulcet voice is filled with insincere mocking. “Oh, you want it, do you?  You want me to fuck you in here?” Dropping his voice to its usual low resonance, Harry growls the next phrase in the human’s ear. “I know you want it, you fucking slut.  But you can’t have it right now.  So if I’m going to let you cum—” The conditional phrase pulls a sound of protest from her throat. “—then you’re going to have to do it around my fingers.” 
The begging girl cries out against his neck as her walls clench around his touch, the stifled pants that she gasps into Harry’s ear urging him to speed up.  Instead of giving her what she wants, Harry curls his fingers inside her, pressing deeper into that spongy spot to elicit another broken whine from her.  When he receives it, however, it’s accompanied by an unexpected blinding burn. 
The iron cross that hangs so delicately around Y/N’s fragile throat has slung to the side in her writhing pleasure, finding its way from her flushed collarbones to the base of Harry’s icy neck.  The vampire grinds his teeth as he feels the brand begin to form, choking back the sound of agony that fights its way out of his mouth.  His left hand clenches around the ladder, his knuckles stretching white as the waxed wood nearly splinters under his palm, while his right hand stutters its pace inside his lover, prodding harshly at her G-spot as a single grunt makes it past the cracks of his teeth.
Harry knows he needs to remove the cross from his skin, but he has no way of doing so without alerting Y/N to his discomfort.  If he lets go of the rung, both of them will tumble off, and Y/N has made it obvious how much she trusts him to keep her safe; that option is hardly an option, Harry thinks, struggling to keep his mind present as he fights through the pain.  The other option— the only one, really— is to retract his fingers from between the mortal’s thighs, feign some excuse as to why, and do his best to keep her from noticing the cross-shaped burn mark on his neck that will surely disappear within a few moments of the iron being removed.  It’ll be jarring, he knows, to pull Y/N from the subspace he can tell she’s beginning to slip into, and Harry hates it, but there’s nothing to be done.  His hand contracts inside her, desperately massaging her walls one last time before he retreats to—
The sharp action drags a mangled whine from Y/N’s throat, the sound more shattered than anything Harry has ever heard from her before, and it pulls Harry’s attention from the charring sensation of the cross branding his skin to the overwhelmed girl in his arms.  As Y/N lets her entire body fall against Harry’s chest, her eyes completely shut as she gives into the pleasure bubbling in her tummy, a realization dawns on Harry, searing him nearly as much as the metal on his inhuman flesh: he can’t let go of her.  He’s in too deep— literally, obvious in the way she tightens around his fingers— and if he were to stop now, Y/N would go into a sensitive daze that he can’t deal with in a public space.  If he lets go of her now, he’ll lose the connection he’s spent the last two months making. She might get over it, given that it’s just an orgasm, but subconsciously, there’s a possibility she could resent him for it. Especially in the extremely delicate phase she’s in at the moment. 
He knows it sounds stupid, but he can’t risk that.  He just can’t.  He’ll take burning agony over that any day. 
When Harry reflects on this moment in bed tonight, his jeweled fingers carefully combing through Y/N’s knotted locks as she shifts in his arms, the bite mark on her neck freshly faded to a light bruise, her chest rising and falling gently with quiet breaths, one specific detail will stick out to him.  He won’t focus on the blinding pleasure of Y/N grinding against his hardened bulge, her body moving of its own accord as she gives in completely to the sensations Harry pulls from her.  He won’t focus on the explicit moans that show she’s given up on attempting to quiet, her voice reverberating in Harry’s mouth as he inhales every desperate breath she exhales.  When Harry reflects on this moment, the thing he’ll remember the most is how the second he accepted his fate— that he’d have to bear the pain in order to keep Y/N happy, and he feels like there’s probably some deeper subliminal message hidden beneath that realization, though he refuses to indulge it— the mortal girl tilts her head to the side and begins to kiss Harry’s neck, soothing the scorched mark with her silky tongue. 
The relief is so sweet that Harry nearly cries out a fractured mewl, letting his head fall forward into Y/N’s shoulder to hide his desperate expression.  She continues to whimper into his skin, smudging kiss after kiss on his marked neck as if she knows how badly he needs it.  Even as her orgasm begins to rise in her belly, consuming her every thought, she continues to suck bruises onto his jugular, dragging her tongue over his cool skin repeatedly after every action.  Although the iron still stings, the sensation of Y/N’s textured tongue swiping over it turns the pain to pleasure, and it’s not long before Harry has himself centered once again, refocused on the task at hand. 
He speeds up the movement of his fingers, focusing on curling them inside her as his thumb rubs quick circles over her throbbing clit.  The sounds bouncing around the room are so lewd that Harry almost wishes someone would walk in, even if only to see how good Harry is capable of making his lover feel. 
“Y’can cum for me, baby.  Cum all over my hand.” He mutters in her ear, his teeth scraping against her fragile skin in desperation. “I know you have it in you.  Show me how good you are.”
Y/N feverishly grinds against his hand, all of her senses overwhelmed by the immortal as she licks across his neck. “So—so close, Harry—I—”
“I know, I know you are.” The vampire soothes her in a tone more gentle than he thought possible, palming her soaking cunt with as much pressure as he thinks she can stand. “Let go for me.  I’ve got you.”
The reassurance is the final thing Y/N needs to fall apart, and once she knows that she can, it happens with an intensity that shocks even her.  When the coil inside her belly snaps, a guttural moan tears from her mouth, and she grasps the pole in front of her as tightly as she can while collapsing back into Harry’s chest. 
“Fuck, there we go, yeah? Shhh, keep it down for me, angel. Don’t wanna have to stop until you beg me to.” 
Her grip on the ladder does nothing to support her, but as Harry’s hushed words ring in her mind, she knows she doesn’t have to worry about that.  Harry’s arms and chest are strong enough to do it for her, allowing her to sink into her pleasure as much as she needs to. 
When Y/N slumps in his arms, her neck finally shifts enough that her cross falls back into its designated position between her collarbones, providing Harry with relief from the scorching pain he’d been beginning to adjust to.  He can feel his skin begin to heal itself the moment the iron leaves it, and with that small fear tamped down, the creature can turn all his attention to the girl in his arms. 
He slowly and carefully retracts his hand from her panties, shushing the weak squeak that rolls from her lips at the motion. “Good girl.” He mumbles into her ear, kissing her temple softly as her breathing begins to regulate itself. “Shh, you’re alright.  Y’did so well for me, darling.”
The comforting praise comes easily to him, and as he continues to hold Y/N as she regains her previous headspace, Harry begins to wonder just how far he’d be able to push her before she reaches her limits.  How far into subspace can she go before she hits the point of no return?  Could Harry successfully guide her there and lead her back?  Could she ever trust him enough to submit fully to his every request, taking solace in the knowledge that he can take care of her as well as— or better, even— she can take care of herself?  Harry wants to think yes, but he can’t dwell on the idea any longer; Y/N’s beginning to shift against him again, and he’ll never be able to earn that wholehearted trust if he doesn’t tend to her now. 
Lifting his hand to his own lips, Harry wraps his tongue around his drenched fingers, lapping at the sweet wetness that coats them down to his rings.  He hums in appreciation, stippling another tender kiss to Y/N’s neck when he retracts his fingers from his mouth. 
“Taste so sweet, y’know that?” He whispers, the question half a test to see how aware Y/N is as her head begins to clear. “C’mere, I want you to taste.”
Y/N lazily tilts her head to the side, a small smile playing on her lips as they meet Harry’s for a slow kiss.  Trailing his fingers down her side, Harry skillfully buttons the side of her overalls again, adjusting the fabric to lie comfortable against her skin.
“How are you feeling, hm?” He murmurs, rubbing his large hand soothingly over her belly as her breathing begins to regulate again. “How was that?”
“I feel…” Y/N struggles to make sense of her swimming head, resting it against Harry’s shoulder as she tries to form a coherent response. “Good.”
Harry sighs with relief, smearing a quick kiss to her cheek as he grins. “Good.  That’s good.” 
With his right hand still wrapped around her middle, he carefully lowers himself and Y/N from the ladder, keeping a tight grip on the girl until he knows her feet are planted firmly on the ground. 
As the afterglow of her climax begins to fade, a heated flush begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine to settle on the apples of her cheeks. “I, um—” The corners of her lips tug upwards with a bashful tone, and she twists around in Harry’s arms to shyly meet his canopy green eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.” 
“You didn’t do anything.  It takes two to tango, pet.  And, honestly…” Harry flashes a boyish simper at her as he yanks her closer to him by her hips. “I think I did most of the work.” 
“That’s true.” A breathless laugh stutters from Y/N’s chest as she curls her hands around Harry’s bulging biceps, steadying herself from the after effects of her orgasm, which are turning her legs to jelly. “I could, um…” She flicks her eyes from the door to the prominent bulge in Harry’s black slacks before capturing his gaze in hers again. “Return the favour?”
Harry snorts as he gives a quick shake of his head, his teeth catching on his bottom lip while he runs his hands down the back of her rumpled shirt. “Not here, baby.  How about we wait until we’re back at my place for you to show me how my sweet girl sucks cock, hm?”
“So it’s alright for you to distract me from my book search to finger me in a public area,” Y/N fakes indignation to distract herself from the ache that’s starting to pulse in her core again at Harry’s proposal. “But the moment I want to suck you off, you say ‘not here’?  What kind of double standard is that?”
Lips twitching in amusement, Harry stifles a laugh as he turns the girl in his arms, pressing her back to his chest once again before wrapping his arms back around her waist. “You’re right.  I distracted you from your book search. How rude of me.” He coos, nodding up to the shelf as he grazes his teeth against her pulse. “Think I see a pretty copy of Sense and Sensibility up there.  Y’think you can reach it, or do you need me to do it, sweetheart?” 
The shuddering of Y/N’s heartbeat contrasts with her heated reply. “I can reach it just fine if you behave yourself.” She shoots back, smacking the hand that’s beginning to wander towards her center again. “Or is that too difficult for you?” 
“It’s extremely difficult when I’m near you.” The reply, while truthful, sends a quiver down Harry’s spine, and he presses a chaste kiss to the human girl’s shoulder before releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll get the book.”
Y/N tugs the hair tie from her locks, shaking them out before pulling them back again in a neat manner. “You know, I never thought I was one for antiquing, but today was fun.” 
“Well, it doesn’t usually involve getting finger-fucked on a ladder,” Harry states bluntly, glancing over his shoulder with a dimpled smile on his face. “So I’m not really sure if today can be the marker for an average antiquing session.”
Y/N’s face boils at the brazen comment, and she tucks a strand of loose hair that she’d missed behind her ear as she swallows hard. “No.” She replies with a soft and timid laugh, shaking her head gently. “I suppose that’s true.” 
Harry hums in reply as he snags the old copy of the Jane Austen novel from the top shelf, climbing down the ladder effortlessly and landing back on the ground with a soft thud. “But I’m glad you had fun.” Harry steps towards Y/N with a satisfied air, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger as a teasing smile plays on his ruby lips. “And I’m even more glad we found a replacement for that terrible tapestry of yours.”
Y/N rolls her eyes as she smacks Harry’s hand from her chin before snatching the novel from his hands. “Stop being mean to Amanda!  You’ll hurt her feelings.”
A snort boasts from Harry’s throat as he recalls the day she had told him what she’d named the piece hanging from her wall, and he bends down to scoop up the Monet print while shaking his head impassively, clutching it in one hand as he snakes the other around Y/N’s waist once again. “Well, I hope Amanda doesn’t have feelings, because I’m going to burn her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not, because I’m going to hang her over your bed, just so you can stare at her while you fall asleep each night.” 
Harry groans loudly as he guides his lover from the music room and back to the open space of the antique mall. “Please.  If anything is going over my bed, it’s a mirror, not a college freshman’s poor excuse of an attempt at interior design.” 
Y/N wrinkles her nose at the comment, shaking her head at the crude suggestion. “A mirror?  That better be a joke.”
“It was, but now that I’m thinking about it…”
“You’re disgustingly conceited.” 
“Oh please, you lo—” Harry catches himself just before the word love rolls off his lips.  Though he’s said it before when referring to certain aspects of their sex life (like how he loves the way her mouth feels, or how she loves the way he stretches her out), it just seems oddly repulsive to say at this very moment. Too intimate, almost.
Therefore, the creature bites back the offensive phrase and tugs her closer by the waist, covering up his sudden hesitation with his signature smirk. “You like that idea, don’t you, dove?”
Y/N keeps her face neutral as they pass by an older couple examining a grandfather clock. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Sure you don’t.” Harry laughs sharply, nuzzling his face into the top of Y/N’s hair and pressing a casual kiss to the crown of her head. “Need I remind you that your request for my interior design skills is what started this whole thing?”
“And if you had suggested I mount a mirror over my bed, this whole thing would’ve been over before it even had a chance to start.”
“You say that now, but if you were to see the way my cock looks while it slams into your—”
“Harry!” Y/N hisses, blood rushing to her cheeks as he guides her around a corner stacked with porcelain dolls. 
“Fine. No mirror.” Harry relents, a disappointed sigh falling from his lips as he palms Y/N’s waist closer to himself. “But the tapestry needs to be burned.”
“Thrown away.”
“Folded up and tucked under the bed?”
“Possibly.  And that’s as good an ending as you’ll get.” 
That night, after Harry has satisfied his craving for both Y/N and the sweet liquid that pumps through her veins, and has settled in for his usual nightly routine of rhythmically caressing her back to lull her into a deep slumber, and as he counts the breaths the mortal sighs between nightfall and sunrise while her soft snoring sings a lullaby to his ears, he can’t help but think that…
That yes, this really is as good an ending as he’ll ever get. 
1K notes · View notes
lay-z · 4 months ago
thy who plays foolish games, shalt garner foolish prizes | 2
MCU | dark!Stucky x f!Reader | 18+, dolls ♥
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» previous chapter/s ; masterlist
Summary: When your date with Steve does not take place, you cannot help but be petty about it.
Warnings/Info: Though this chapter does not contain smut, the story will be 18+ only! For good measure. I mean it; don’t come at me if you read it despite the trigger warnings, and not liking what you’ve read, please.  | TW:dark content | eventual dub-con/non-con; stalking; gaslighting; explicit sexual content&language; cussing; smoking/drinking    
Tags: @sweetdreams25​ @nichia88-blog​  @ladydmalfoy​ @queenofthepouges​
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“Can you stop pouting now? He cancelled on you, that’s his loss, baby”, Mya says as she exhales the cigarette smoke towards the open French window, and her voice is balanced between a scold and encouragement.
You glance at the chat history one more time before you throw your phone into your bag with a heavy sigh and take a big gulp of your red wine. It’s sweet with a faint taste of dark chocolate and a somewhat sour aftertaste just like your brief almost-romance with Steve Rogers.
“That’s right drink away your sorrows. That’s what us big girls do” Mya lifts her own glass with a hoarse giggle before taking a sip.
You still feel miserable, and you probably will continue to feel that way for the time being, but being curled up on your best friend’s couch, drinking, manages to make you feel less lonely.
“It’s just…he didn’t even tell me whyyy, Mya”, you groan and slide deeper into the couch cushions.
“I know you desperately wanted to suck that dude’s dick, but” She sighs and ponders for word. “I mean, he’s Captain America, he probably has like, supersoldier stuff to do”
You roll the wine glass between your palms and click your tongue as you edge down. Mya takes one last drag of her cigarette and crushes the bud in the ashtray on the side table next to the velvet armchair she is lounging in.
“Yeah, you’re right”
“I know! Now tell me about that party you got invited to”
You lean your head back against the couch armrest and drape your arm over your eyes.
“As far as I know it’s gonna be one of Tony Stark’s fancy parties at the Avengers Facility, so I expect to feel terribly misplaced there”
“What? Nah girl, you should definitely go, looking hot as fuck and get with Thor”
You crank your neck to look at her in disbelief and amusement. “Are you serious? I could never; he probably only fucks other goddesses”
Mya throws a velvet cushion at you which you barely dodge as you try not to spill your wine.
“I’m sorry, what was that? We are Earth goddesses goddammit, don’t put yourself down on my watch”
You break into a fit of giggles as another cushion follows. “All right, jeez, you’re right again!”
“Yes, I am! So, how about we do some online shopping and look for a new dress for you? I want you to look smoking hot and show Captain Asshat what he’s missing out on”
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On Monday, you’ve mostly recovered from Steve basically ghosting you though you still catch yourself wondering why he did it so suddenly. Luckily, work keeps you busy, and Pepper’s schedule is cramped full today, so she only sends you texts here and there, asking you to carry out minor tasks for her.
You look up from your laptop screen when a broad figure appears in your open doorframe.
“Hi, Happy”, you greet the tall male politely though you wonder why he came. “how can I help you?”
His grumpy frown softens slightly as he approaches your desk and fumbles a set of Audi car keys from his black dress pants.
“This one’s for you, company car. Sorry it took so long, but its fresh out of manufacture”
You look back and forth between the keys and his eyes, mouth gaping. “I don’t – I –“
“Yeah, yeah, it’s a fancy car, you’re working for a fancy company, get over it”, he chuckles and pulls a document from his suit jacket. “I need your signature here and here, keep the copy”
You sign the papers and pick up the keys hesitantly as Happy turns on his heels to leave. “It’s parked in the underground garage, spot A17 is yours!”
“Uh, thank you…Happy!”, you call after him and he waves at you over his shoulder before he disappears out of your office.
You a minute before you pick up the black keys and snap a quick picture for your Instagram story. Taking my new baby for a ride, you add with a filter and grab your belongings as it uploads.
You scan your work ID and press the button to the underground garage while you play with the keys in your right hand, swaying on your heels in anticipation as you watch the floor numbers count down.
You purse your lips as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, above the ground level. The doors open and your heart sinks in your chest as you’re faced with Steve Rogers, and another unfamiliar man in tow. Steve’s eyes light up as they meet with yours and you take a cautious step backwards until your back hits the wall as a sudden wave of dizziness overcomes you. His colleague’s eyes scrutinize you briefly with a hardened frown, and it’s a vast opposite of how Steve is looking at you, almost innocently.
“Y/N, good to see you. How have you been?”
The men join the elevator and Steve scans his ID before pushing the ground level button. It’s almost humorous to know that even someone like Captain America must follow the security protocol here. The doors close and the tension grows, now trapped with the guy who ghosted you, and his intimidating friend. Steve stands in front of you, expecting a reply, with his hands stuffed in his pockets casually while the other one stands next to him tensely.
“I hope well”
You’re speechless and you fumble with the keys in your hand nervously, praying this will be over soon, before they slip out your sweaty palm and land at the stranger’s feet. The cuss is stuck in your dry throat and your face heats up with humiliation when you scurry to pick them up again.
However, a metal hand reaches down in front of you and snatches up the keys before you can. You stare at the stranger and recognize his face eventually. It’s none other than Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ oldest friend and comrade. His steel blue eyes gaze into your soul as he holds the keys out for you to take.
“Thank you”, you say, your voice is feeble as your knuckles brush over the cool metal, and a loud harrumph brings your focus back to Steve, who has been watching the brief interaction with a bemused smile.
You clear your throat as well and square your shoulders, channeling all the sass Mya has taught you in all those years of friendship before you give him an answer. Bucky’s intense eyes are fixed on you, but you try to dismiss him and focus on your anger towards his friend instead.
“I’m fine, Steve, thank you for asking” You ball a fist around the car keys and take a deep inhale. “I suppose you’re fine as well?” A fake laugh escapes your lips, and you hope your pettiness comes through. “I mean, I wouldn’t know since, well, you stopped texting after you cancelled on me”
You hold Steve’s surprised gaze with ice in your veins after your initial slip up while Bucky shifts on his feet and stares on the ground, but you manage to catch the amusement on his handsome face. The elevator stops on the ground level and the doors open on cue.
“I believe that’s your floor. Have a good one, gentleman”
Steve merely nods at you in defeat before he turns and steps outside, and it’s Bucky who surprises you with a flirty wink before he follows Steve like an obedient puppy. The doors close again, but you catch how both men glance back at you over their shoulders.
Your head lolls back and you lean against the wall for support as you groan and clutch your beating heart.
“What the fuck did just happen?”
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The engine purrs as you step on the gas at the green light and you can’t help yourself but ignore the GPS to take the long route back to the office. Your phone vibrates and the practical phone holder allows you to glance at the screen. The text preview reads S. Rogers, and your heart skips a beat.
Though your first instinct is to rip your phone from the holder and text him back immediately, Mya’s voice bellows in your head not to do it. Let him dangle, you think, as if he even cares that much about you anyway.
Another text from him after a couple of minutes raises your curiosity, but you stick it out. You’re not going to be his plaything, there are enough women around the world who’d gladly put out for him, no matter what. Not you though.
Your screen lights up with a call and you roll your eyes until you see it’s your boss. You swipe over the screen swiftly and put her on speaker.
“Hi, Pepper, I just picked up your dresses from the dry-cleaner! I’m on my way back to the office”
“Oh, great, thank you! Uhm, can you bring them to my home instead? You can be off then, and I forwarded an e-mail to you just now. Please take care of that reservation for Friday, the executive committee will visit spontaneously, and we need to accommodate for them”
“Uh, this Friday?”, you inquire cautiously. Tony’s party will be on Friday, and you’ve been looking forward to show up in your new outfit since you bought it.
Pepper sighs. “Unfortunately, yes, but don’t worry, I promise you’ll be off at 5. I know you don’t want to miss Tony’s party”
Your lips twist into a smile at her last words. “Thank you, Miss Potts!”
“Don’t mention it. How do you like your new car?”
“I feel like I’m driving in a cloud, it’s more comfortable than my apartment”
She laughs her high, clear laugh. “Well, I’m glad you like it! Drive safe, I’ll see you tomorrow”
The call ends as you approach a red light, and you use the spare time to check the messages Steve sent you.
Hey Y/N, I’m so sorry I had to cancel our date last minute. We had to go on a mission and we only came back this morning
You scoff at his cheap apology but continue reading.
I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight. 7pm?
Just as you think about a fitting reply, a sudden honk behind you makes you jump and drop your phone as you scramble to put the car in motion to get the green light. You forget about Steve for a moment as you focus on your work instead, and you drop Pepper’s dresses off at her house before you call it a day.
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At home you treat yourself to some Chinese takeout and draw yourself a bath afterwards. The temperature outside dropped appropriately for fall season, and in your bathroom, you light a big Yankee Candle, cinnamon and apple scented, to celebrate your day.
You take a picture of the foamy bathtub, dimly lit by the candle, and add a caption in a fancy font.
The only thing missing is a glass of wine to round up my night
You swiftly undress and throw your clothes in the hamper as the post uploads to your Instagram story, and as you sink into the hot water, your phone vibrates on the edge of the tub.
You must stretch to snatch a dry towel from the floor to wipe your wet hands before you can pick up your phone, and only when you unlock the screen, you remember that you forgot to give Steve an answer.
I suppose I deserve the silent treatment. If you don’t want to see me outside of work again, I’ll respect your decision.
Your shoulders slouch as the feeling of guilt manifests itself in your stomach. Even if he ghosted you first, and you didn’t mean to leave him on read, you feel bad.
I’m so sorry! I was so busy, and I simply forgot to reply!
You nearly twist your fingers typing so fast and quickly send the message. He reads it immediately and you watch the three dots appear as he writes his reply.
Phew I’m glad to read that! :) What are you up to now?
You stare at the screen for a moment and bite chew your lower lip as you ponder before you start typing again.
Just taking a bath, and you?
When you send the message, your stomach starts to churn in anticipation. His next reply will undoubtedly show what kind of a man Captain America truly is.
Well, I hope you’re enjoying that! I just took a shower.
As you read the message, Steve sends another.
I’d really like to see you. How do you feel about me coming to your place? I’ll bring some wine
118 notes · View notes
wayward-mikaelson · 8 months ago
Could we get a helmut zemo x reader in which helmut actually says to the reader 'I love you'. It could be a smut or like when he gets arrested in the last episode.
Until We Meet Again (Zemo x F!Reader)
Word Count: 2143
About: See above request
Characters: Zemo, Bucky, Ayo, Dora Milaje
Pairing: Zemo x F!Reader (Anyone can ready it obviously)
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Nothing really, unless you count Bucky holding a gun to Zemo...
A/N: I normally don't do requests, but I made the exception of this one. I got this a while ago, so I apologize for not getting it out sooner. I got really busy and needed to finished up some other fics. xoxo, Shy
*This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!
Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife
Marvel Tags: @soccer-100000
Zemo/Daniel Tags: @simpforzemo
Favorite Fics Masterlist
You woke up that morning to Zemo’s fingers tracing small circles on your shoulders. You shifted around lightly and pressed your face to his bare chest. You inhaled the cologne that still lingered on his body from the day before. You didn’t want him knowing you were awake. Not yet anyway. You were holding onto every detail of the night before.
You could still feel how your bodies danced and pressed together. You could still hear your moans and his grunts as he pushed himself further and further into you. You could hear him calling you sweet names in his native language. Peppering kisses all over your body.
You had met Zemo years ago. You were the one who let him into the building to interview Bucky. Thinking he had been the psychologist called into question Bucky. He had greeted you with a sweet, friendly smile and chatted with you for a while. He was attractive and nice. The smile that he gave you that day, you knew it would stick with you.
How could it not? It was such a beautiful smile.
Years later, as you accompanied Sam and fought with Bucky, you were reacquainted with that face and smile. This time, you didn’t let it fool you when he remembered your name and gave you that same smile all those years ago. Yow knew who he was. You knew what he did. You wanted to blame him for how you helped Sharon Carter but that, that was all you.
Then Madripoor happened.
He shielded you when Selby’s men attacked and shot at you guys. He made sure you were completely safe and okay when a bullet grazed your shoulder. He even tore apart some of the white undershirt he wore to bandage you up. He was very gentle, making sure that you were good. Again, he gave you that sweet smile.
You were sitting on the sidelines of Sharon Carter’s party, you watched Zemo like a hawk. The resentment you held towards him had faded some. On the flight there, he talked about his family and it tore at your heart. You couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. Somehow, you understood his motives but you refused to excuse them.
That night, you walked up to him on the dance floor after watching his cute, awkward dance. You didn’t know what possessed you to do it but you blamed it on the shots of tequila you shot back. You slowly started to sway to the beat of the music and Zemo soon fell in sync. You started to feel the music and got closer to Zemo. His eyes grew wide when you took hold of his hands and spun around. Feeling him around you, your back pressed to his chest. The two of you danced to the beat of the music.
Then, the two of you were upstairs in Sharon’s apartment kissing. It was hot and all teeth. Zemo pushed you on a wall, his hands cupped your face as he let his tongue explore every part of your mouth. One hand trailed down to your thigh and hitched your leg up and wrapped it around his waist. You clung to the purple turtleneck he wore like it was a life preserver.
Then you stopped him. You told him, you wanted to go further but not quite yet. He didn’t question anything, he pulled away from you and gave you that sweet smile. He understood and didn’t want to push you into anything you didn’t want to do. He said he would wait until you said the words. Then he stepped back. He took one of your hands in yours and leaned down and kissed it gently without breaking eye contact.
The two of you spent the night talking.
It wasn’t until you were in Latvia, where Bucky and Sam left you alone with Zemo. Well more like keep an eye on him, but you knew that Zemo wouldn’t do anything. You knew him well enough and were confident. Plus, he’s seen you kick three grown men’s asses the day before. You don’t think he would take any chances with you.
Zemo had just come out of the bathroom in a dark robe that was open enough to see his chest. He noticed and smirked, but didn’t say anything. Instead he walked over and opened cabinet after cabinet until he found what he was looking for. He turned to you and beckoned you to come over and handed you a Turkish Delight.
That was when you told him you wanted something more than a sweet you held in your hand.
The circling on your shoulder stopped. “I know you’re awake,” Zemo’s lips pressed softly to the top of your head. “I felt your breathing change a few times. What’s on your mind?” You felt his finger lift your chin up to his eyes.
“This last week,” you smiled when your eyes met his dark ones. By the look of them, you knew he had been up for a while. “From where we started to where we are now.”
“Ah,” Zemo brushed the hair from your face and smirked at you. “You called me an asshole that first day. Then not even twenty-four hours later you were moaning into my lips.”
You chuckled at the memory. You had spun towards Bucky once you had realized that the person who came in was Zemo and asked “Why is this asshole out?”
“Now look at where we are now,” you push yourself up and straddle his waist. You lean forward and wrap your index finger around his golden necklace.
“Yes, look at where we are now,” Zemo wrapped an arm around you and flipped you over. “You gave me a chance, unlike your friends.”
“Speaking of friends,” you gently push Zemo off you. You kicked your legs off to the side of the bed and reached for your phone. You turned it on and saw all sorts of missed texts and missed calls pop up on the screen. “Damn it,” you huffed under your breath. “Bucky found out I’m with you. He says he knows where to find us. Do you know what that means?.”
Zemos hands are on your shoulders, kissing the base of your neck and sending chills down your spine. “As a matter of fact, I do, but let’s focus on other matters.” Then Zemo pulls you back into the bed and kisses you deeply while using his knee to spread your legs open for him.
The two of you walked off the plane and towards the Sokovian Memorial. You could see the emotion in Zemos eyes as you approached the statue. When he said that he lost his family when Sokovia happened, you honestly didn’t know what to say. You watched as a mixture of sadness and love washed over his face. You could tell he loved his family very much. But that still didn’t excuse what he had done and you've told him that.
“I appreciate your honesty,” Zemo brushed stray hair from your face. “It means a lot to me and more than you know.”
“I just say it like it is,” you smiled and leaned into his hand. “This memorial, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s all that’s left of my country and my family,” Zemo let his hand drop as he walked closer to the statute. “You think this, the stone and the scenery, are beautiful, you should have seen it when it was bustling with life.”
“I would have stayed,” you blurted out. Zemo turned around and you saw the look on his face. He was confused. “If I were here, I would have made sure things were done right. Cleaned up and stuff. What you went through, that shouldn’t have happened.” You walked up to him and placed a hand on his arm. “The Avengers, they should have conducted a search and rescue mission. But instead…”
“They went home.” Zemo finished the sentence for you and pulled you into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Helmut,” you pressed your face to his chest. You felt him breathe deeply when you said his first name.
The two of you stood that way for about thirty minutes until Zemo pulled away. He took your chin in his hand and kissed you gently. It was slow, it was loving, and most of all you could feel the emotion that he was feeling as his lips molded around yours.
It was the sound of footsteps that had you guys pulling away from each other. You turned to Bucky standing a few feet from you guys. The way he stood there, you knew he meant business. He looked you over and the look of betrayal of you being with Zemo, filled his face.
“I thought you would be here soon,” Zemo stepped in front of you.
“What?” you asked.
“Don’t worry, James, I’ve decided not to kill you,” Zemo ignored your question.
“Imagine my relief,” Bucky’s right hand moved and you saw the shine of the pistol in his hand.
“Bucky,” you gave a warning tone. “You don’t want to do that.”
Bucky ignored you, he walked a few steps closer and slowly raised the gun. You felt your heart stop and did the only thing that you knew you could do. You took a step around Zemo but he put his arm out and kept you from standing in front of him. You held onto Zemo’s arm.
“Do what you must, James,” Zemo said softly.
“What?” you whispered but you were again ignored.
You looked up at Zemo’s face and there you saw it. He was ready for what Bucky had for him. But you weren’t. You weren’t ready to lose Zemo. You didn’t want to admit it just yet, but you were starting to fall for him. You stared at Bucky and shook your head and let the tears fall. Bucky didn’t care, you saw the look in his eyes. He wanted this done.
You gripped tightly to Zemo’s arm and waited for the gun to go off. You waited for your heart to break as you waited for Zemos body to hit the ground. You looked back at Zemos face as he stared into the barrel of the gun.
You were never going to forgive Bucky for this.
You never flinched so hard in your life. It took you a few seconds to register what didn’t happen. You looked up at Zemo and saw the realization on his face too. Bucky shot an unloaded gun. You turned towards Bucky to see him raise his left arm, it’s hand was clenched around something and when he opened it, you saw the bullets from the gun spill to the ground below.
You wanted to say something but from the corner of your eye, you saw the Dora Milaje surrounding you. You knew what was happening and you didn’t like it. But now that the Wakandan royal guard was there, you couldn’t do anything about it.
“Ladies,” Zemo’s voice rasped.
You watched as Ayo and Bucky exchanged words. You didn’t realize it, but your fingers were linking around Zemo’s coat, gripping it tightly. This couldn’t be the end.
“YN,” Bucky’s voice called you out of your thoughts. “Let him go.”
You shook your head. “No,” you said. “Not like this. Please!” You heard your voice whine in a begging-like manner.
“Darling,” Zemo pulled you in front of him so that the two of you were looking at each other. He took a hand and cupped your chin and pulled your face closer to his. “It has to be this way,” his thumb ran along your bottom lip. You could see the pain in his dark eyes as he spoke.
“What about us?” Your voice shook.
The smile that Zemo gave you, you knew it was forced. How could he give a smile when both of your hearts were being broken? “It won't be forever you know.” he whispered. Then he pressed his lips firmly to yours. He whispered something in Sokovian into your ear followed by, “Until we meet again.”
Zemo firmly, but gently, pulled you off him and looked at Bucky. “Take care of her.”
You watched him walk away from you. Frozen in place as you tried to register what he had told you. You hardly spoke Sokovian let alone barely understood it. When it finally clicked, it sent you running towards him. Bucky yelled for you to come back.
Zemo turned around in time for you to crash into his arms. His arms wrapped around you tightly and had his lips pressing firmly to the side of your head. “Say it again,” You spoke above a whisper. “Say it again, please.”
Zemo found your ear and in a whisper only you could hear he repeated it in english.
“I love you.”
137 notes · View notes
mychemicalimagines · 9 months ago
Lost in Silence-Edward Cullen-Chapter 6
Summary:  Gabriella Swan was used to the silence. Being born deaf, you get used to it pretty quickly. When her sister moves in from Arizona and they both go to Forks High School, how will a mind-reading vampire change her entire world, and help her find herself in a new kind of silence? How will she help him see that being different isn’t always bad? Together, these two souls, lost in silence of their own discover the sweet sound that comes with accepting themselves, and finding friendships, relationships, and each other.
Warnings: Bella-bashing, Some Language, Paranormal, Supernatural, Love, Angst
Words: 4,275
Tag List:  @elskinner45 @nocturnalherb16 @buckysforeverprincess @diyunho @negans-womam @deepobservationcherryblossom @fangirl1029 @thelostallycat @scarletmeii @fandomsstolemylife00 @brithedemonspawn @sinofbisexuality @chuckbass-love @lyn-g @paigeem96 @kyky9103 @mzmusic92 @booknerd-3000 @jasperschillvibe @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @rightwhereiwantyou @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @ms-reader @jadakiss13 @tpwk-plsss @jgtfvhsg​ @awesomebooklover17 @emily500 @criminal-mindyabusiness @the-sassy-one @thelastemzy @aactuaaltraash
IMPORTANT A/N: A few days ago, I received an ask about how I portray a deaf reader and their thoughts. I am very sorry I have gotten this wrong. I tried researching and stuff but decided to write it how I thought Gabby’s brain would work. I don’t mean to get it wrong since neither myself nor my editor are deaf. My editor and I know not everyone thinks in the same way, so based on what we could find in research as well as from experience with my editor’s little brother, we went the route we did in portraying Gabby being deaf. We do sincerely apologize if this has upset anyone. That’s never been our intention and we greatly appreciate any feedback you, the fans and readers of this series, may have. If you would like me to discontinue this series due to that fact, let me know but I do hope you enjoy this chapter. 
There is a trigger warning for this chapter. We all know what the guys wanted in that parking lot but I am warning you ahead of time.
Please leave feedback for us if you want us to continue due to the A/N above. 
To be tagged: Comment, Message me, Submit an Ask or Tag Yourself in my Bio!!
Sign Language - Italics || Sign While Speaking - Italic Bold
Edward Reading Thoughts - Backquote
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Third Person POV ~ Same Night
Since she confronted Edward with the information and he confirmed it, he’s been answering every question she has. She also doesn’t have to worry about her sister or father coming home right now. Charlie had texted her a few minutes ago, letting her know he’s staying late and that Bella had called him a bit earlier, telling him she’s going to be hanging out with Jacob for a few hours.
So far, throughout his explanations, Gabby learns that the only way to kill a vampire is to rip them apart and burn the pieces. Literally everything in the books has been a lie. They can take pictures and their reflections are actually seen in mirrors. Animal blood does not weaken them like that one book told her. 
Each vampire even has some kind of venom that is laced throughout their body. She also learns that certain vampires have powers, characteristics or traits that they may have brought over from their human lives, or Edward explains that that’s Carlisle’s theory anyway, at least as to where the powers come from. 
One of the more intriguing things she finds out is that Edward has the ability to read minds. Hers included. At first, she finds herself nervous about that, but he quickly assures her that he won’t do it as often as he does for other people. Needless to say, she’s pretty happy about that. Lastly, and most likely the coolest thing that she learns is the fact that he was born in 1901 while Carlisle and Esme were born much earlier than him, 1640 and 1895, respectively.
“How long have you been...like this?” She signs, glancing up at him.
“Since nineteen-eighteen. That’s when Carlisle found me.” He answers, watching her reaction.
She stares into space for a moment. “You were 17 then when you changed. And that would make you 104 now, if I am correct on my math.” 
He chuckles softly and nods. “You are correct. Making me feel old there, Gabby.”
“At least you look good for your age, and it’s not quite like you’re robbing the cradle, Ed.” She playfully shrugs before continuing her questioning. “Where’d Carlisle find you?”
“In a hospital in Chicago, dying of Spanish Influenza. My parents had already died. My mom just before me.”
She gasps silently, taking in the information. “You...You didn’t get to say goodbye?”
He shakes his head no. She reaches over and puts her hand on his, squeezing it softly, trying to comfort him.
“I’ve had quite a few years to come to terms with it.” He signs, smiling softly. “Maybe more than just a few, if I’m being honest.” 
She takes in a deep breath before thinking of another question.
“So what does this venom do?” She asks.
“A single bite contains a lot. It kinda does a number of things. For starters, it’s the basis for our physiology; it makes us what we are. For hunting, it’s a means to paralyze our prey in pain to prevent them from escaping. For those of my kind that survive off human blood, our venom has a pleasant scent to lure the victims in. As a defense, it’s also a toxin poisonous to animals and shape-shifters. We don’t get hurt often, but when we do, it’s our venom that repairs a torn limb or bone.” 
He takes a moment, pausing, letting her soak in everything he’s said so far. She watches his fingers, intently and curiously. He decides to continue telling her, once she’s caught up with everything up to that moment.
“And, very occasionally, as a means for vampires to propagate our species. The victim cannot run, giving the vampire the choice to either kill the victim or allow her/him to change. The thing, though, is that once we taste blood, a sort of frenzy begins. It’s almost impossible to stop.” He answers. 
“But Carlisle did. Or else you wouldn’t be here.” She states, watching him nod before she continues signing. “He turned you because you were dying right? Not just because?”
He nods again. “That’s just Carlisle, though. He would never do...this, to someone who had another choice.” 
“So, Carlisle taught you guys to hunt animals?” She asks.
“He’s not the only reason.” Edward hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to be a monster.” 
She reaches up and gently takes a hold of his chin. They both know he can resist her, but he lets her turn his head to look at her eyes.
“You could never be a monster.” 
She thinks to him, not wanting to remove her hand from his face just yet. He bites his lip before nodding at her words, knowing she might change her mind when she learns the truth. The truth that he is not ready or willing to reveal yet. She continues to ask questions throughout the entire time that they’re hanging out.
Edward raises an eyebrow at the sound of her heart beating slowing down and her breathing evening out. Looking down at her, a smile appears on his face. During one of his answers, she had fallen asleep. He moves slightly to get comfortable and wraps an arm around her, letting her snuggle to his chest like she had done the night before. 
He doesn’t dare move after that. He doesn’t want to risk the chance of her waking up. After a few hours, he glances down at his watch when he hears footsteps coming up the front porch steps downstairs. Taking in breath, sniffing the air to figure out who it is, his nose immediately scrunches up in disgust.
“Bella.” He mumbles to himself.
He listens to her footsteps enter the house and rush up the stairs. He stares at the door for a minute, waiting as if Bella would run into the room. Not even a second later, her door opens then is slammed shut. He lets out an unneeded breath. It’s not that he’s worried about her catching him, because he’s not; he is worried, though, about her waking up the small girl beside him. 
He holds her closer to his cold body after making sure he covers her up. He stays all night, only leaving her side when her father checks in on her. He didn’t want to leave her the next morning but he knows he has too. It’s going to be sunny tomorrow meaning that he and his family will have to stay home. 
Sneaking a hesitant glance at the clock, as he places a soft kiss on her head, he realizes her dad will be coming in soon. He slowly moves from the bed, making sure not to jostle her around and walks to her window. Stealing one last look back at her, he smiles to himself, watching her snuggle into her blankets before he takes the jump out of her window.
Few Hours Later
Gabby looks around as she sits on the bench outside of the high school. Edward left early this morning so he didn’t get to inform her that he wouldn’t be in school. It was the sunny weather that gave her a hint that he wouldn’t show. She sighs and looks back down at her notebook, drawing something new. 
She’s already completed most of her drawing of Edward, so she decided to just start a new one of someone else. The first person to pop into her head was none other than...Rose herself. Gabby thought of the day at the hospital and how Rose hugged her out of nowhere. It was that sweet moment that helped Gabby decide to draw the beautiful teenager, hopefully give it to her as a present. 
Then she remembered her first day of school and how Emmett walked into the building with her...so the single portrait turned into a drawing of the lovely couple. Her thoughts are broken by her sister, bumping her with her elbow and gesturing to Jessica. Gabby looks up at the girl with a raised eyebrow before reading her moving lips.
“He’s not here.” Jessica informs her as she leans back on her arms, tanning.
She tilts her head in confusion, wondering what the light haired girl was talking about.
“Dr. and Mrs. Cullen yank ‘em out for hiking and camping and stuff. I tried that idea out on my parents. Not even close.” She rambles.
Gabby nods her head in understanding before looking at her notebook again. She makes a few lines on her drawing when she notices everyone standing up. She quickly puts her items away and stands, glancing at her sister. 
“We are going dress shopping with Jessica and Angela.” Bella signs. “So we’re going to Port Angeles after school.”
Gabby just nods at her sister, not really caring. She’s not going to prom, so helping the girls with their dresses will at least get in their good graces. It’s now several hours later and the girls are in the dress store, sorting through the inventory at a leisurely pace. Angela and Jessica are in their respective dressing rooms, letting Gabby pick a few dresses for them. 
She turns around with a few dresses, ready to hand them over, only to see that the girls are standing in front of the mirror nearby. Jessica’s talking too fast for her to be able to read her lips, but she does get a chance to read Angela’s.
“These dresses are perfect!” 
Angela glances at Gabby, hoping that maybe she’ll agree, or possibly even disagree. She finds herself trusting Gabby’s opinion, and smiles softly. Gabby offers her friend a soft smile and nod.
“It looks good on you, Ang.” She signs.
Bella looks up at her sister before informing the softer spoken girl. Angela smiles widely and hurries over, pulling Gabby in for a quick hug.
“Thank you!” She signs after stepping back.
Jessica, standing off to the side a little, watches the brief interaction, rolling her eyes discreetly. Why did Gabby only tell Angela she looked good? Why not her? Her dress is clearly better than Angela’s. Since they’re not paying attention to her, she turns back to the mirror where she can give herself all the attention she wants and thinks she deserves.
“I’m gonna take Gabby and go to the bookstore. We’ll meet you at the restaurant later.” Bella says before grabbing her jacket and bag.
Gabby doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the girls before Bella pulls her older sister out of the building. Stumbling a little at the roughness of her sister’s tug, Gabby tries to get her attention when Bella walks them straight past the bookstore. She manages to remove her arm from Bella’s grasp long enough to take a few steps back and peek in the windows of the little bookstore. 
Before she can enter though, Bella’s grabbing her arm again, and pulling her away. Obviously, she’s not interested in it, so Gabby’s a little confused, and if she’s being honest, disappointed, as to why her sister told their friends that that’s where they were going when they’re not. Gabby sighs and digs her heels in, forcing Bella to stop. 
Bella turns and looks at her, glaring. “What?”
Gabby signs. “Where are we going? That was the bookstore.”
“No shit, Sherlock. We’re not going to the bookstore.”
Gabby sighs. Her sister’s not signing, and forcing her to read her lips. Bella’s clearly acting differently than usual, and poor Gabby has no idea why or what’s even going on. 
“Why’d you tell the girls that’s where we were going?” Gabby signs. 
“Because. I needed to get out of that store.” Bella replies, like it should be the most obvious thing ever.
“But, I thought that was the whole point of us coming up here? To help them pick out dresses?”
“I needed to get out of Forks. You might be used to the small town, Gabriella. But, I’m not, ok? I needed to see a city,” Bella glances around her. “Or at least as much of a city as possible.”
“But...what if they come looking for us when they’re done? We won’t be where you said we would be.”
Bella rolls her eyes. “That’s what phones are for. I swear, you can be so...oblivious and stupid at times. Now, c’mon. We’re going exploring.”
“Just, let go of my arm, Bella. You’ve got a tight grip on it, and it’s starting to hurt. I’ll stick with you so you’re not alone, but you don’t have to drag me along.”
“Whiny brat.”
Bella mutters under her breath, but doesn’t try to keep Gabby from reading her lips as she lets go of her arm. Gabby rubs her arm gently, letting out a soft wince at the sensitivity of her skin from her sister’s bruising grip. Bella rolls her eyes again.
“C’mon, then.” She says before turning around.
As she starts to walk away, at a brisk pace, Gabby has no choice but walk just as fast in order to keep up. They make their way along the sidewalk, going past all the buildings, and not once stopping. Only once they’ve reached a wipe open section of paved road, with no sidewalk does Bella finally stop. She turns her head to the left, looking down the sloped, paved pull in that leads to a parking lot at the bottom of the hill where a bunch of bikers are. 
Trigger Warning Till Divider:
She smirks to herself and all but drags Gabby down there with her. While Bella can hear the thumping of the music coming from inside the bar, and the rowdiness of the group of bikers outside the establishment, all Gabby hears is silence, and the pumping of blood through her ears. She looks around, getting a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. 
Doing everything she can to stop her sister, Bella ignores every attempt from her sister until they’re at the bottom of the hill. The sun’s gone down now, so the only light they have comes from the parking lot’s lighting and what comes from the bar. Gabby’s eyes widen as she looks at the drunk and rowdy bikers making lewd gestures. 
She tries once again to pull Bella away as they start to get closer, circling around them. Bella must say something to the guys, because Gabby watches their faces light up with drunken excitement and amusement. They crowd around Gabby, and before she realizes it, Bella’s left her all alone in the middle of the circle of horny, predatory men.
As the self-established leader of the group, Lanny, all but pushes himself against Gabby, she frantically looks around for her sister. But, she can’t find her. The height of the guys blocks her view. From the top of the hill, Bella watches the scene unfold below, with an evil, yet satisfied smirk on her face. 
Her plan to get rid of Gabby is finally working. The attempt to have her out of her life when Tyler’s van skidded across the parking lot didn’t end up like she’d up, but this opportunity just presented itself. Before she can watch enough to make her witness to the crime unfolding below, and to keep herself ignorant about what’s actually going to happen to her sister, Bella turns and walks away. 
She makes her way back to the bookstore, not noticing the silver car speeding down the street, and doing her best to ignore her sister’s screams piercing the air. Once she’s safely in the bookstore, she focuses on what she really came here for.
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Back in the parking lot, before the men can harm Gabby any more than they already have, and before things get past the point of no return, a silver car tears down the hill and does a U-turn at the bottom. As it screeches to a halt in the middle of it’s path back up the hill, the passenger’s side door flings open. 
Gabby, spotting the driver and knowing exactly who it is, manages to break out from the middle of the group of guys and runs as fast as her terror filled adrenaline legs will carry her. By the time the guys realize she’s not there anymore, she’s already safely in the passenger seat of the car, trembling, as it peels away from that area. 
Edward speeds away, and only slows down once he can no longer hear the thoughts of the men back there. Pulling into a parking spot parallel to the sidewalk, he turns the engine off, and takes in an unneeded for biological reasons, yet very much needed breath for his sanity, inhaling Gabby’s scent to calm him down.
He turns and looks at her. His heart, although it’s no longer beating, breaks at the sight of her, trembling, terrified from what she just went through. Taking another breath, inhaling more of her sweet scent, he feels himself calm a bit more. He knows he needs to be strong for her right now, be there for her. 
Swallowing the venom in his mouth from the fury still coursing through him, he gently reaches a hand out towards her. Gabby flinches back from the movement, but it’s enough to get her attention. She looks down, turning her gaze from out the window, to stare at the hand in front of her, her eyes moving up it to the face of its owner.
 Relaxing just the slightest bit once she realizes that she really is with Edward, and not back through with those men, her adrenaline starts to wear off. She blinks a few times as her gaze meets Edward’s. His lips start moving, slowly, moving her eyes down to look at them.
“You’re safe. You’re with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says.
Gabby just blinks again, staring at his lips, hoping he’ll say something else to keep her focused on him. 
“If you’ll let me, I’m gonna put my arms around you and hold you close? Just to help you calm down, ok?”
Gabby nods slowly as she watches his mouth move. He scoots his seat back, putting more distance between himself and the steering wheel. Willing himself to not use his vampire speed, he slowly reaches out and gently wraps his arms around her, carefully maneuvering her from the passenger seat to where she’s sitting sideways in his lap with her back to the door. 
He keeps his arms around her and just holds her close. After a few moments, Gabby hesitantly lays her head against his chest, putting her ear over his heart. It may not beat, but it’s ok because she can’t hear the lack of that sound. She just wants, no needs, to be close to him. After a few more, seemingly longer, moments, he feels her start to slowly relax against him.
Edward continues to hold her close, softly stroking her left arm with her thumb in a comforting manner, despite the chilliness from his cold touch. He places a soft kiss against the top of her head and closes his eyes as her scent wafts up into his nose, calming him. This moment could be one where he reads her thoughts, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t for a number of reasons. The first being that she must already feel violated enough as is, and he doesn’t want to add to that. The second being that he knows if he dives into her thoughts, he’ll most likely see what happened, and he doesn’t want that. Not right now. Not if he intends to stay calm for her and not give into the monster inside him, urging him to go back and kill those lowlifes.
Gabby, when she’s relaxed enough, shifts a little in his lap and wraps her arms around his torso so best as can, just holding onto him. She’s not sure how, right now anyways, how he managed to find her in the city, or how he managed to show up not a moment later before things got worse. All that she’s sure of is that she’s thankful he’s here, with her, right now.
The pair sits in silence, one willingly, the other simply because it’s all she’s ever known. Edward’s eyes do open after a short time and he looks out the windshield to see Bella coming out of the bookstore. A low growl escapes his throat at the sight as he wonders why she’s not with her sister. He watches as she walks away from the store, from them, as if nothing’s wrong.
Gabby, feeling the vibration of his growl, rubs her ear against his chest a bit, enjoying the ‘sound’, even if she’s not sure what caused it. She tilts her head, looking up at him, keeping her ear in the same position. Feeling her move against him, he looks down, offers her a small smile and kisses her forehead.
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A little while later, once Gabby’s calmed down from the events of earlier in the evening, Edward pulls up at the restaurant he’d managed to get from Gabby after asking what she was doing up here. He parks the car, similar to the way he did earlier, and gets out, walking around to her side of the car.
Opening her door, he holds his hand out, offering it to her in case she needs it as she gets out. He smiles softly as he feels the warmth of her palm against his as she takes it. Once she’s out of the car, he kisses her head once more. The sound of the restaurant door opening and giggling gets his attention. 
Gabby follows his line of sight as he looks at the door. Both their eyes widen a little bit. Jessica, Angela, and Bella all walk out, looking like they had a good time. They all look up when they reach the last stair in front of the restaurant. Edward’s mind fills with their thoughts, or at least Jessica and Angela’s since he still can’t read Bella’s.
“Gabby! Oh, she’s safe!” Angela thinks to herself, visibly relaxing at seeing her friend.
“Late much?” Jessica’s thoughts sneer, but there’s still an underlying sense of relief at seeing Gabby ok, only to continue in shock at seeing Edward. “Uh-uh! No freaking way!”
Edward holds Gabby close to him as he glances back at Angela, briefly as her thoughts continue. 
“Edward Cullen? Did she go away by herself to find him?”
Jessica’s thoughts pipe up once more. “Gabby’s been holding out on me.”
Edward bites his lip to keep from rolling his eyes. Gabby shouldn’t have to explain herself to anyone if she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t owe anyone anything anyway. He glances down at her to see her staring, completely shocked at her sister. Bella puts on a fake concerned face, hidden her utter disappointment and anger at seeing her twin clearly alive.
“Where have you been?” Bella growled, speaking so that Gabby’s forced, once more, to read her lips.
“I found her lost and wandering around.” Edwards speaks, not liking the tone the youngest Swan’s using. “Where were you?”
“Oh, Bella told us she was at the bookstore, that Gabby said she was going across the street to look at a cute bunny in the small pet store’s window and that she’d meet back up at the restaurant.” Jessica chimes in.
Gabby turns and hides her face against Edward’s chest, signing against his side, discreetly. 
“That’s a lie. I never said that. She took me there and left me.” 
Edward holds her close and looks at the girls, nodding slightly making it seem like he believes the lie Bella’s just told and that the others think is the truth. 
“Well, since you girls have already eaten, I’m going to take Gabby here inside to get a bite.” He says.
“How’d you know?” Jessica asks.
“She can’t stay with you. She rode with us.” Bella cuts in. 
“Well,” Edward starts. “I just assumed you had eaten since you were leaving the restaurant. But, I promise you girls that I will make sure she gets home, safe and sound, and with a full tummy. No worries about that. That way y’all don’t have to wait around. And, I’m a bit hungry myself, so it’s no trouble.”
Jessica and Angela seem content with his reply and nod, smiling widely as they start to walk towards Jessica’s car. Angela stops by Gabby, gently taps her shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re ok!” She signs before pulling the other girl in for a hug.
After she pulls away, she walks over to Jessica. The girls murmur to each other as Gabby and Edward look at Bella. Bella just nods, not saying a word and walks around them to get to the other girls. Edward watches them get into the car and leave before looking down at Gabby.
“You’re safe. I promise. I’m here now. What do you say we get you something to eat? It will help you feel a little bit better.” He signs slowly for her.
She nods and looks up at him, speaking slowly and softly, for the first time to him. “D-Don’t leave me. Please.”
He pulls her in for another hug, holding her close, kissing her head and signs against her back. 
“Never. I won’t leave you.”
She nods against his chest. When the hug ends a few moments later, he walks her inside the restaurant, holding the door open for her, and keeping one hand lightly resting against her back so she feels him. She didn’t ask him to do that, but he can tell it helps keep her relaxed and calm which is what he wants right now.
153 notes · View notes
skyeet-the-writer · a year ago
Can you write a corpse x reader when she finds out she's pregnant and she's playing among us and she imposter with corpse and she kill someone and someone sees and reports it right away she get all nauseous and let's it slip to everyone while she go to throw up and corpse doesn't know what to do but he's excited to be a dad. You can change it up and add thing if you want, I was writing everything down, sorry if this is weird.
And If You Wanna Stay … Please Stay
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yes finally a pregnant request! also, i’m gonna be waiting to get the triggered pro-life people in my asks and DMs about how ‘iT’s A LiViNg BeInG”. like what’s the baby gonna do? tell it’s mom??
corpse x female!reader 
summary: when the reader gets morning sickness during an Among Us game, Corpse and her expect the worst. And they get it. 
word count: ~4.8k 
warnings: swearing, vomiting, mentions of abortions, mentions of being pregnant, a little bit of suggestive content near the end but nothing happens
He’s finally asleep, you think to yourself as you watch your boyfriend’s chest rise and fall. He needed it.
Recently, Corpse has had trouble sleeping for more than three hours. You two had tried everything you could think of. You had tried staying up late to get him tired, you tried subliminals and music to get him to sleep. You even tried to give him a massage one time, but that led to other things.
You look over at the drawn curtains and pull them back a little. There, on the window, you have tin foil covering them. It’s a trick you learned from your dad when you were younger. When he worked night shifts, he had to sleep during the day, and he had trouble sleeping since your parent’s room had thin curtains. And so your father taped tin foil to all of the windows in their room so that he could sleep.
You’re not exactly sure why this seemed to work for Corpse, but you’re certainly not complaining. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. He doesn’t look stressed, he doesn’t look sad. He looks so calm.
You lean forward and peck his nose. His breathing stutters and his nose wrinkles. You giggle and slowly, he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times and his brown eyes look around the room before settling on your face. He grins and your smile widens.
“That’s a pretty face to wake up to,” he mumbles and his morning voice makes you blush. “Oh my god, you’re already blushing.”
You blush even harder and bury your face in his neck. He laughs and hugs you around your waist. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”
He kisses your hair. “Morning, baby.”
“Good morning,” you mumble into his skin. You pull away so that you’re only a few inches apart. He leans forward and nuzzles your nose against his. Instead of kissing in the morning--you can’t handle his morning breath--you nuzzle your noses together.
“How’d you sleep?” you ask after you two pull away.
He smiles. “Really good, actually.” He chuckles and looks up at the window. “I guess the foil worked.”
You laugh and sit up. You’ve been awake for a little while and your stomach growls. “You hungry, babe?”
He nods and sits up as well, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out. “Can we have pancakes?”
“You can eat those, right?” you ask. You stand up out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing behind you.
“Yeah,” you hear him say. “Even if I couldn’t, I’d still want to eat them because you make really good pancakes.”
You smile. “Really? Thanks, babe.” 
You get out the ingredients to make the pancakes when Corpse announces that he’s going to take a shower. You give him a kiss on his cheek and notice it’s a little scratchy. You grab his chin suddenly and he blinks at you as you run a thumb against his cheekbone. 
“Want me to shave?” he asks softly.
You shrug. “If you want.”
He grabs your hand and presses his lips against your finger. He gives you a sweet little smile. “I’ll shave.” He squeezes your hand before walking back to your room.
After mixing all of the ingredients, you drop a few droplets onto the buttered up griddle. When it sizzles, you pour two medium-sized pancakes before going to search for the spatula. 
When you find it in the dishwasher, you flip both of the pancakes and grin. They’re both perfect. You notice it’s quiet in the kitchen and call out, “Alexa.” You hear her go off in the living room. “Play some fall lofi.”
“Playing ‘Midnight Lofi - Fall Vibes’.
”You smile when it starts to come from the living room. It’s a little quiet, so you say, “Turn it up.”
The music starts to play a little louder and you smile more. It’s so aesthetically pleasing, lofi music. It’s probably one of your favorite music genres. Before you moved in with Corpse, you had to listen to something and you eventually began to fall asleep to lofi. But now that you’ve been living with him for almost a year, you don’t listen to it as much. Usually when you’re cleaning the house or playing music when you study for school. 
You cook a few more pancakes and when you’re putting them on a plate, you have an idea. Corpse can’t eat chocolate because of his health, but you can. And you usually have a secret stash of chocolate in the back of the pantry. You’ve been craving chocolate a lot for the past week which is weird because your monthly hasn’t started yet even though it should have a few days ago. But you don’t dwell on that thought and pull up a chair from the small island and stand on top of it to reach the very back of the pantry. Your fingers skim the edge of the chocolate chip bag and you grab it between your middle and index finger. You grin at it and go to hop off of the chair when suddenly--
“What are you doing?”
You yell and you almost slip off the chair. Luckily, you land on your feet and wobble. You look up at your boyfriend when you regain your balance. He’s smirking and looking between you and the bag in your hand. 
“Chocolate,” you tell him, making your way back to the griddle like nothing happened. “You know, just because you can’t eat it doesn’t mean I have to suffer with you.”
He laughs and leans on the counter next to you. “I know you have a stash, y/n.”
You look at him with wide eyes, stopping in your tracks. “You do?”
He nods. “Yep. I knew since the first month you moved in. You’re bad at hiding it, you know.”
You blink at him before shrugging, walking over to the griddle. “Well, you’re not allowed to have any.” You stick your tongue out at him and sprinkle the mini chocolate chips into the remaining batter. There are enough pancakes for Corpse, so you’ll just cook up the rest for yourself.
Usually, you and Corpse don’t wake up until after breakfast time since you have a habit of sleeping in. But when you can wake up early enough for breakfast, you both like to sit out at the small balcony and eat together.
“What are we doing today?” you ask Corpse, sitting across from him at the small metal table.
There’s a breeze and it ruffles his hair. “I was gonna stream Among Us later. You can play, too. My fans love you.” He smiles and looks down at his plate.
“As they should.” You flip your hair and the two of you laugh. “Yeah, I can play for a little while. I’ve got classes to do and a paper due tomorrow, though.” While Corpse is a Youtuber and a streamer, you’re a college student taking classes at San Diego State University, trying to get your major in anthropology and a minor in Spanish and engineering. “God, I have a test at the end of the week, babe. I’m gonna fail it,” you mutter, putting your face in your hands. 
“What’s it in?”
“Spanish,” you tell him, pushing a blueberry with your fork. 
He gives you a stare. “Babe, I’m literally half Mexican.” He laughs.
You throw the blueberry at his head and it bounces off onto the floor. “Shut up, stop making fun of me!”
He grins. “I can tell you the answers as you take the test. It’s online, right?”
You nod. “Yeah, I chose all online classes this year. I mean, you could. But that’s cheating.” You flip a piece of your pancake over. “And I don’t wanna cheat. I cheated all the way through high school. I want college to be different.”
Corpse grabs your hand and you look up at him. He’s smiling at you. “You’re smart, baby. You’re gonna do fine. You’re gonna get your degrees and you’re gonna be the best... what are you studying again?”
“Anthropology,” you tell him quietly.
“You’re gonna be the best anthropologist ever.”
You crack a small smile. “Do you even know what an anthropologist is?”
You laugh and that gets him to smile. You lean across the table and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s a little sticky and sweet because of the syrup, but you’re not complaining.
Later that morning, after taking a shower while Corpse cleans breakfast up, Corpse says that he’s going to stream and you come and join him. There’s a monitor across from his that you use from time to time and a headset as well.
Your boyfriend sends you the code for the Discord and the Among Us game. Corpse looks at you from across the desks and you smile. He grins back and your stomach churns. You blink and wince at the feeling. You’ve been feeling nauseated for a few days now and you don’t want to get sick during a stream.
“Hi Corpse,” someone says as you load into the waiting room. You look back at the screen as someone gasps. “y/n! Best friend!”
It’s Sean and you laugh. “Hi, Sean.”
“y/n!” exclaims someone else and you realize that it’s Lily.
“I thought I was your best friend, Jack!” says Sykkuno and he sounds hurt.
You smile and move your character to the customization. You choose yellow and choose the leaf hat. Since your gamer tag is “lemon” you always try and be a lemon.
“Aw, y/n’s a lemon,” says Dave.
You laugh and run circles around him. “Hi, Dave.”
You hear him laugh and Corpse chuckles in front of you. You look at him and be flashes you a smile.
The round starts and the red “IMPOSTER” text lights up your screen. You’re paired up with Felix. You haven’t been the imposter with Felix too often, so you don’t know what to expect. You mute your headset and head down to storage to fake wires before going to fake another task.
 You’re standing in the electrical room pretending to download data when Sykkuno walks in. You pull up the sabotage map and close the door before killing him and venting. You come out in the medbay and head over to the cafeteria.
 When a body is reported, it’s Lily’s. You unmute yourself and bite your thumbnail as your stomach churns even more. You’re starting to get worried that you’re going to get sick.
 “I found Lily in admin,” says Sean. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”
“Sykkuno is dead, too,” Julien points out.
 “Oh shit,” you mutter and hold a hand over your mouth. You try to keep the bile from rising while everyone talks and you don’t bother to listen. You do hear someone say that they’re going to skip voting and you do the same.
When no one is ejected, you mute your mic once again and go to follow Corpse down to the shields. You stand beside him while he does his task. Sorry, babe, you think and kill him just as your kill cooldown reaches zero.
 You smirk and run away in the opposite direction and you can feel him staring at you. You glance up at him and your smile widens. “What?”
He just shakes his head and you laugh.
You meet up with Dave and follow him around and fake wires with him. At one point, you and he cross paths with Felix and Toast. You may not know Felix too well, but any good imposter knows to go for a double kill. So as you run by each other in the cafeteria, you close the door and both you and Felix kill who you were with before venting away. 
By the time you’re out of the vent and running away from admin, Dave’s body is reported. Your stomach feels awful now and you’re almost certain you’re going to throw up in the next thirty seconds.
 “Fuck.” You unmute your mic. “It was me, I killed Dave. I’m the imposter. I’ll be right back.” You practically throw your headset off and run for the bathroom.
Corpse watches you practically run out of the room. For a second, he’s not sure what to do. Should he go after you? But he’s in the middle of streaming.
“y/n?” Sean asks. “Corpse, where’d she go?”
“Is she okay?” Julien wonders.
He nods even though no one can see him. “Y—yeah. I’m gonna go check on her. I’ll be right back.” He mutes his mic and takes his headphones off before leaving the room to go check on you.
He finds you on the tiled bathroom floor vomiting into the toilet. He curses and kneels behind you, pulling your hair back.
When you finish, he says, “This is the third time this week you’ve gotten sick, baby.”
You groan and lean your head on your arm. “I know. I don’t know why. Well, I—“ You cut yourself off and go still as if you suddenly had a realization.
Corpse tilts his head. “What is it?”
It takes you a few long moments to respond. “…My period is late. And I’m getting morning sickness. Plus I’ve been moody.” You turn back to look at him and he can tell you’re about to cry. “Corpse.”
You don’t need to say anything else. He’s already standing up, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach and his shaking hands. “I’ll go get you some tests.”
You grab his hand. “Corpse, no! I’ll go.”
He shakes his head and gets on his knees in front of you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”
Your lip quivers. “You don’t have to do this. I know how much you don’t like going outside. Really, it’s not a big deal, I can go get some.”
But then he kisses your forehead. “y/n, it’s okay. You need to rest. I won’t be out for very long.” He stands up after squeezing your hands. “I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”
Before you can do anything to stop him, he turns around and goes to grab his mask and his wallet before grabbing your car keys. He doesn’t like to drive, but you’re worried and driving is quicker. And right now you’re the most important thing for him to be thinking about.
When Corpse leaves, you sigh and stay sitting on the floor for a few more minutes while your stomach settles itself. Afterward, you get up and brush your teeth after flushing the toilet. Deciding to get some school work done, you grab your laptop and head to the living room.
When you pass by his recording room, however, you see his monitor still on. You curse and head inside. He’s still streaming. You sit down and put his headset on and unmute his mic. “Hey, guys.”
You glance at the exploding chat as Sean asks, “y/n? Where’s Corpse? Are you okay?”
I’m probably pregnant. “Uh, I’m kind of sick, so Corpse went out to get me some, uh, stuff. Sorry, but we gotta go. Uh, it was fun streaming.”
“Okay,” says Sykkuno. “I hope you feel better, y/n.”
“Thanks,” you mumble. “Bye, guys.” You leave the chat and close the game before looking at Corpse’s stream chat. “Sorry about this, guys. I had fun streaming, though, I’m sure Corse did too. Have a good day.” You smile even though they can’t see you before ending the stream. You go over to your monitor and leave the game and chat in your own game. You lean back in your chair and press your hands in your eyelids.
You want to cry. You want to scream. You can’t be pregnant. You’re still a kid, you haven’t completed college yet. You and Corpse aren’t even married.
You suck in a shaky breath and wipe your damp eyes. “I’m probably not pregnant,” you whisper and stand up to go into the living room. “I probably just ate something bad. Yeah, that’s it.”
You sit in the living room on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders, trying to focus on your schoolwork. But you can’t. Your mind is too overwhelmed with the possibilities. You hope Corpse is okay. You know how much he hates going outside and being around other people.
You turn back to look at the lecture your professor posted and sigh. You just need to relax and calm down. Just wait until Corpse gets back and focus on schoolwork until then. 
It takes a while, but he does come back. Some small voice in your head thought that he wasn’t going to come back, but you quickly pushed it away. Corpse loves you and he’d never leave you. 
The front door opens and you look up from the paper you’re in the middle of typing. You meet him in the hallway where he’s taking his mask off, a plastic bag in his hand. He meets your eyes and cups your face in one hand. 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. 
Your chin wobbles and you shake your head. Tears form in the edges of your eyes and you suck in a deep breath. “Did you get some tests?”
 He nods hand hands the bag to you. But before you can take them, he grabs your wrist. “Hey. I’m not leaving, y/n.”
You nod before taking the bag from him and quickly walking to the bathroom. You’re scared to say anything because you know that if you do, you’ll start to cry.
 Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with Corpse, leaning into his side as he rubs your shoulder. There are three tests on the counter and your boyfriend has a timer running on his phone for five minutes. So far, three minutes have passed. To you, they’ve felt like a lifetime.
 “Are you okay?” Corpse asks quietly, finally breaking the silence.
 You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel. “I don’t know. I’m scared.” You glance down at your stomach and place a hand on your naval. “If I am pregnant, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m young.” You look at him. “We’re young. I’m still in college. I can’t afford to have a kid!”
“I know.” He draws you closer to your shoulder. “But whatever you decide to do, I’m going to support you. And I’m not going to leave you, either. In case you were worried about that.”
Even though you shouldn’t have been, you were.
Luckily, Corpse changes the subject, going on to say, “I’ve been working on another song.”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of a lofi type song. I can show you the lyrics, later, if you want.”
 You smile a little and look up at him, staring into his shining, dark eyes. “I’d like that.”
He smiles back and leans down to give you a small kiss. When you pull away, his phone rings, signaling that the timer is done. He turns his phone off and you stand up, walking towards the counter where the tests are. You pick one up. 
One line.
 You let out a breath of relief and turn to Corpse where he’s leaning on the sink. “Negative.”
He smiles a little. “What about the other two?”
 You look back down at the other two tests. You pick one up and your heart drops. Two lines. You swallow and gently place it down as your hands begin to shake. Maybe that one is a false positive. There’s still another one. Whatever this one says will probably determine if you’re pregnant or not.
 And so you pick it up. And you smack a hand over your mouth when you see two lines. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant. The test falls from your hands and you fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face.
 “Baby, what did it say?” Corpse asks, coming to your side and trying to coax your face into his hand. “Babe?”
“I don’t want a baby!” you exclaim through your tears. “I can’t handle that. I’m too young, I’m not ready. We’re not ready.” You lean into his arms as he pulls you towards him. “Corpse, I don’t want it.”
He nods and you feel him run his fingers through your hair. “It’s your decision, babe. It’s your choice. And I’m gonna support you either way if you want to keep it or not. If you do decide to keep it, then we’ll figure something out. If not, I’ll drive you there and get you In-N-Out or something.”
That gets you to laugh as you tighten your arms around him. “You’ll really buy me food?”
“Yes. I’d do anything for you.”
Your stomach churns that night as you’re scheduling an appointment to get rid of the clump of cells in your body. You’re nervous and Corpse was sweet enough to order you whatever you want for dinner. 
You get off the phone as Corpse grabs the food from the delivery person and walks into the kitchen. He looks at you as he places the bags down on the counter. “So?”
You swallow and lean on the counter. “My appointment is in a couple of days.”
He nods and approaches you, placing his hands on your hips and drawing you to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, love.”
You lean your head on his chest. “Am I a bad person?”
“Of course not. It’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it. And besides, it’s not like it’s living anyway.”
You giggle as you try not to cry again. “What’s the baby gonna do? Remember it?”
Corpse laughs his deep and rumbly laugh and you grin. “True. But I seriously will buy you In-N-Out if you want. Or McDonald’s.”
You laugh again and tighten your arms around him. “Okay. And, Corpse?”
“Thank you for being so supportive of wanting to get rid of it.”
He kisses your head. “Don’t thank me.”
When you and Corpse are laying in bed after watching a true-crime documentary, he’s gently dragging his nails up and down your back as you’re nestled into his chest. The tinfoil is still on the windows and it makes the room even darker. Which is actually the entire point.
 Something had been rattling around in your head for the past few hours and you hadn’t gotten the courage to ask Corpse. But here, in the darkness of the bedroom the two of you share, you often ask each other stupid questions late at night when neither of you can fall asleep.
 And it feels like it’s going to be another one of those nights because you’re wide-awake and you know Corpse is as well. And so you ask, “Do you ever want to have kids together?”
His hand abruptly stops dragging his nails on your back. “What?”
 You regret asking him, but there’s no going back now. “When we’re older, would you ever want to have a family together?”
His hand begins to slowly go up and down your back once more. “Maybe. If you want to. If you want to have kids one day when we’re older, then I’ll definitely have kids with you.”
This makes you smile and you tighten your arms around his middle. “I love you, Corpse.”
“I love you, too.” He kisses your head. “Before we have kids, we should get married first.”
You grumble and say, “We’ll see who proposes first, then.”
He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’ll probably be you, baby. I’m too anxious.”
“Excuses, excuses,” you huff but the two of you laugh. “I’m too broke to afford a ring, though. You might have to settle with a Ring Pop.”
“If you propose to me with an onion ring and I would say yes.”
You giggle as something else comes to mind. “What about those cheap, plastic spider rings? Or the ones that come on cupcakes.”
Corpse laughs again and begins to scratch your back again. “If you do that, we would get married on the spot,” he says in that deep and gravely voice of his.
 You grin. “I’m keeping that in mind.”
Corpse hums into your shoulder. “You’re not going to fall asleep anytime soon, are you?”
 You shake your head. “No. Are you?”
“What do you want to do?” you ask him, pulling away from him to look at his face through the darkness.
 Even though you can’t see him too much, you know he’s smirking. “Well, there’s already a fetus in you. Want to see if we can get another one?” 
You laugh and push his chest. “You’re disgusting, Corpse!”
He laughs and grabs your hands and lifts your arms up so he can roll on top of you. “Maybe. But it got you to laugh.”
You blush and turn your head to the side as he sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head. He starts to kiss down your neck and you sigh. “Corpse.”
He hums against your skin.
 You bite your lip. “I’m not really in the mood, babe.”
Immediately, he stops what he was doing and lifts his head. “Okay. That’s fine, babe. It’s been a long day. Can we still cuddle, though?”
You nod and smile. “Of course. You can be the little spoon.”
“Yay!” he exclaims and climbs on top of you and rolls on his side. You get yourself situated behind him and throw one arm over his stomach and use the other one to play with his incredibly curly hair. Your legs get tangled together like they always do and you bury your fingers in his hair while he lets out a deep breath through his nose. 
“Happy?” you ask him quietly and he nods. You squeeze his stomach with the arm you have there and kiss his head. “Okay. Try to sleep again, babe, okay?”
He nods, but both of you know you’re not going to fall asleep for a while. And that’s okay. You both sit there in the darkness talking about everything and nothing while you play with his hair and he holds the hand around his stomach with one of his hands. You don’t say anything else about you being pregnant or kids or how you want to get rid of it, and you’re glad. You don’t want to talk about it because you feel like a bad person for not wanting the baby. 
Of course, you’re not going to change your mind. Neither you nor Corpse are ready for a child. But that small voice in your head tells you that you’re making the wrong choice or a bad decision.
 But you don’t listen to it. You don’t listen to it that night while Corpse falls asleep again in your arms or when you’re in class the next day. Not even when you’re listening to a demo of Corpse’s new song in the car on the way to the clinic.
 “It’s really good!” you exclaim as he parks in the parking lot. “I love it, babe.”
He smiles at you before glancing at the clinic. “Want me to go with you?”
You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. It'll take little while, though. So you can go do something else if you want to.”
He nods and leans in to give you a kiss. “Okay. I love you. Text me if anything goes wrong at all, okay?”
You laugh gently and nod. “Okay, I will.”
“Love you,” he tells you again as you’re putting your mask on.
 You pull it down and smile at him softly. “You already said that, babe.”
He blushes and looks away. “O--oh. Sorry.”
You just kiss his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll be back.” You pull your mask back up and gather your things before getting out of the car. You wave to him and then make your way into the clinic.
 And Corpse did stay true to his words about getting you In-N-Out after your appointment. He even paid for it and got you a milkshake, too. 
That night, after finally dragging Corpse away from his computer so he’ll at least try to fall asleep with you, you begin to think. You feel better after your appointment. Before, you were incredibly stressed out and even a little depressed. But afterward, you felt so much better. You felt like you could breathe and no have to worry about throwing up or eating the wrong thing.
 And you didn’t regret getting an abortion. You and Corpse both knew neither of you are ready for one and that’s okay. You’re both still young and still new to being together. But as Corpse hums some song against your neck with his nose buried in the skin there, you feel the vibrations from his throat against your shoulder. You sigh happily and push a hand into his hair and gently scratch at his scalp. You feel him smile against your neck and you can’t help but mimic it.
 Yeah. You and Corpse aren’t ready for kids. But maybe you will be one day.
I’m sorry, but the tag list is closed. It’s just too stressful for me to keep adding them. I’m sorry, guys. Also sorry to everyone who messaged me to add them because I didn’t write them down and can’t access my messages now. Still love you guys! x. 
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make-me-imagine · 11 months ago
Red Roses: “I Love You” - Wanda Maximoff Ending
Valentines Special: Day Nine
Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)
Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.
Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Wanda Maximoff
Triggers: None        Words: 1,503
Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​, @thebookbakery​, @fablesrose​, @kitkatd7​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​, @beksib​, @destynelseclipsa​, @criminaly-supernatural​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​, @snarky--starky​, @saintbootlegloras​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​, @empath-bunny​, @okkulta​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs ,  @goinggoinggonzo, @mxxnmocha,  @theofficialzivadavid​,  @lilix1989, @normanijauregui, @euphouriaszn2, @slut-for-nat , @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all (still couldn’t tag, sorry) , @supersourlemon13, @messhup
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February 14th
You woke up late in the morning, having had a restless nights sleep most of the night. As you groggily opened up your eyes and stretched, you turned to look at your clock, seeing it was nearly 11am. You sighed before grabbing your phone, seeing a missed text from Steve a few hours prior asking if you wanted to go for a run with him and Bucky. Replying with an apology and that you slept in, you rolled back over, your eyes landing on the daffodils on the table. 
Remembering that you had woken up lying at the end of your bed before crawling back in, you reached over on your desk and grabbed the note you had set their last night. You read over it again before “New beginnings” you mumble to yourself before sighing and sitting up.
Eventually, you had gotten out of bed, brushed your teeth and got dressed before wondering out of your room, planning on going on a walk. You just wanted to get out of the tower honestly. You needed to think things over again. 
You managed to leave the tower without running into any of the others before you began wandering towards a nearby park, headphones in and favorite music playing. You began to think of the possibilities again. Over the last week, you found yourself watching the others more closely. The way Natasha and Bruce had been acting around each other, you figured it was neither of them leaving you the notes. And you doubted it was Tony or Clint, and it certainly wasn’t Loki. 
So that leaves Steve, Bucky, Vision, Thor and Wanda. Steve and Bucky had always been kind to you, you were definitely close to both of them. The more you thought about them, the less you could see yourself in a relationship with them. And Vision was nearly impossible to figure out entirely.
And then there was Wanda. Ever since you met her and Pietro in your fight against Ultron, you had a bond. She felt comfortable around you, and you had never been afraid of her. You made sure she knew she wasn’t alone, and helped her mourn her brother. You spent a lot of your time together, and you had recently become more confused about your feelings towards her.
You liked her much more than you did anyone else. If you were a teenager, you’d call it a crush. But could she ever feel the same for you? Just like Vision, she was good at hiding her emotions. And you were, you think, very good at hiding how you felt. And you trusted her to never use her abilities on you without your permission anyways, she had made a promise to you as well, though you did not ask her too. It was her own way of expressing you could trust her. 
Sitting down on a bench and staring out at the park, and the people wandering around, you thought more about Wanda and the way she was around you. Thinking of all the small interactions, some of which could be seen as a bit more intimate than others. You began to feel a small sense of hope towards who would admit their feelings to you tonight. 
- - -
You had spent most of your day wandering around the city before heading back to the tower a few hours before the party would begin. You had been avoiding talking to the others, rarely texting them throughout the day. So when you arrived back at the tower, you were not really surprised when Natasha and Clint found you before you made it all the way to your room. 
“Is something up? You don’t usually avoid us this much.” Natasha began as you were stopped in the hallway before the elevator. 
You sighed as you leaned against the wall “I’ve just been preoccupied, I’m fine I promise.” 
“This is about the flowers isn’t it?” Clint asked.
You nodded and Natasha smiled apologetically “Y/n, you really don’t need to be so concerned, I’m sure that if you really can’t see yourself being with whoever it is, they’ll understand. We are all way to close to hold that type of grudge, or let something like this stand between us.” 
“You haven’t read the notes Nat. There’s much more at stake than you understand. But, I do hope you’re right.” you said with a sense of unease. 
After they tried to console you a bit more, you left to go back to your room. Taking a long shower, and slowly getting ready, you sat around distracting yourself before the party. You had gone back and forth in your mind, part of you trying to convince yourself to not go down at all. Maybe they would come find you if they really wanted. But eventually deciding against this, you convinced yourself to go up to the party. 
The party was crowded and loud, made up of a cacophony of laughter, conversation, and music. You spent a while hanging out with Natasha, Clint, Bruce and Wanda before you snuck off when you all joined the others and groups of guests. 
You thought you had not been noticed, when you found a quiet separate room, closed off from guests. You had begun to feel a bit overwhelmed and needed to take a breather away from everyone. Staring out of the large window out at the bright city, as you began to relax.
Hearing the door creak open, you looked over to see Wanda peak her head in. Her eyes meeting yours as she gave you a cautious smile “Are you alright? I saw you sneak off.”
You smiled politely at her, with little emotion “I’m okay, just started to feel a bit overwhelmed.” 
“So, is this a bad time?” 
“For what?” you asked with a questioning face. 
Stepping fully into the room, she lifted up a small bouquet of red roses “To give you these?” she asked cautiously, cocking her head sideways slightly as she watched you. 
Your eyes whipped back and fourth from the roses to Wanda before you found your voice again “Uh, wh- did...uh, did someone give you those to give to me...Or..?” 
She smiled as she began walking towards you “No one gave them to me.”
You met her eyes “Then...you?” 
She nodded her head once “Yes. Me.” she smiled. Walking the rest of the way up to you she handed you the flowers, which you took cautiously as you looked between them and Wanda.  
“I....” you chuckled at your own speechlessness “I just...really thought that you uh, I mean, I thought I was the only one...”
Her smile widened at your stuttering admission before she reached out and placed her hands over yours sending a sense of ease over you. “I didn’t really mean too. But, a few weeks ago, I was feeling, overwhelmed myself, about how I found my feelings changing for you. And one day, when we were together, I couldn’t help but...search a bit, just to see.” she looked at you with guilt on her face “I’m sorry, I know I promised I wouldn’t-”
“It’s alright Wanda” you cut her off, assuring her “That actually makes it a lot easier” you chuckled, which made her smile with relief and amusement. “So, that whole, scavenger hunt you joked about a while ago, to find who was leaving the flowers was just a ploy to distract me from thinking it was you?”
She cocked her head to the side with a smile “Maybe.”
You realized that this now made sense, that day when you found no one in the hallway when you heard them, she had used her magic. “Did anybody else know?” you asked curiously. 
She shook her head “I mean, both Tony and Steve knew about how I felt about you, so maybe they figured it was me. But I never told anyone. But I did hear Bucky mentioning something to Steve about you..pressing the flowers?” her smile widened “Did you really?” 
You felt heat rise up the back of you neck as you smiled “Maybe.” 
She laughed before she took another step closer, pressing her forehead against yours as she stared into your eyes, “I’m very glad that you liked the flowers so much, and I hope you are alright with the things that I said.” 
“I’m more than alright with them Wanda. I loved them. And I...” you hesitated, wondering if you should say what you were truly feeling. But maybe it was too soon? Though, the roses. They were the first flowers you had received that you already knew the meaning of. So, was this Wanda’s own way of confessing...of telling you?
“I know.” she said “Me too.” she replied, answering your unspoken question.
You smiled widely at each other before leaning in together and meeting in a kiss. A feeling of ease and happiness ran through you as your mind was silenced. There was no more anxiety or busy thoughts, just peace, acceptance, and happiness. 
xx xx xx xx xx
This is the last ending being posted for this event. So I hope you all liked them!!
If you did like this, please consider reblogging it, and maybe check out the other endings as well!~
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sfb123 · 6 months ago
Sapere Aude - Part 15
Book: The Royal Heir
Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks
All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Catch Up Here
If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.
Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.
Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.
Trigger Warning: A brief moment of physical abuse.
Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.
Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.
Word Count: 3,435
A/N: Guys, we’re really in the home stretch now, we’re slowly but surely getting some resolutions. I finished this up the other day, and am already halfway through the next chapter. I’m hoping to have the series completely written by the end of the weekend or early next week. I have some really exciting and unexpected things coming, and I can’t wait to share them with you!
Thank you, as always, to the amazing, @phoenixrising308​ (<--- my fandom soulmate, you may know her as @jessiembruno​, follow her new account so you don’t miss a second of her incredible work) & @txemrn. And to @twinkleallnight for my lovely moodboard!
Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.
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Liam’s eyes fluttered open, his wife slowly coming into focus in front of him. She was already awake, and smiled at him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Morning.” She greeted him softly.
“Hi.” He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in, leaving a lingering kiss on her lips. 
“Do you want to talk? Drake texted me, he got Eleanor out of bed, so we have some time.” Liam silently nodded his head. Riley removed his hand from her cheek and kissed his palm before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. 
Liam rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head with a groan before sitting up next to Riley, taking her hand in his. “And I thought our wedding was an eventful day.” He chuckled lightly. 
“Liam, real talk.” Riley replied, combing the fingers of her free hand through his hair.
“I...I feel like I got some closure. I needed that moment. When it was just you telling me that she was alive, it was easy to ignore, or pretend it wasn’t real. But with her standing in front of me, I had to face the truth, face what she did to me. And now she truly knows how much she hurt me. I can move on now, and truly put her in the past.”
Riley smiled at him. “That’s great, I’m so proud of you. I also noticed that you told Thomas you still wanted a relationship with him?”
“He holds no responsibility for what happened, he was born into a life that he had no control over.” Liam’s expression became more pensive as he spoke about Thomas. 
“And you understand the feeling, so you’re cutting him some slack.”
Liam nodded. “Sort of, we were both born with certain responsibilities and expectations, I can understand his feelings of obligation. As much as I missed out by losing my mother, and him, he lost out on even more. He was supposed to be a prince, he is a prince, and he’s lived as a commoner his whole life. We both missed out on so much by not having each other, like we should have. I can’t get that time back, but I can try to make up for it moving forward.”
“You’re amazing Liam, you know that right?” Riley looked at him adoringly. 
He brought his hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “You may have mentioned it once or twice before.” He leaned in and kissed her. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to properly show you how happy I am to have you home and safe.” He kissed her again, this time pulling her into his lap. 
She giggled as his lips began working their way down her neck. “Liam, we don’t have time right now. I’m sure everyone is waiting for us. Rain check?” 
Liam lifted his head and placed his forehead against hers. “You promise?” He kissed her softly on the nose.
“Have I ever let you down in that department?”
“Never.” He kissed her deeply, running his hands down her back until they rested on the curves of her ass.
“Good, then let’s go.” She kissed him one last time before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Once they were ready, they headed downstairs and headed to the smaller dining room. Eleanor noticed them immediately and charged at her mother. “Mommy!”
Riley lifted her daughter into her arms and held her close for a moment before pulling away and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey baby girl, were you a good hostess to our guests while mommy and daddy were away?”
“Yes mommy, the best hostess!” As Riley brushed some hair out of Eleanor’s face, Eleanor noticed the marks on Riley’s wrist where she had been bound the day before. “You have a boo-boo mommy.” 
“I know baby, I do.” She held her wrist out so Eleanor could look at it. 
“I can fix it.” Eleanor grabbed Riley’s hand and brought her wrist to her lips, kissing the marks with a loud smacking sound. “There you go mommy, all better now.” She smiled at her mother proudly. 
Liam looked on, quickly swallowing the lump that formed in his throat at the sight. In that moment, it hit him again that not only would he have lost his wife, the best thing that had ever happened to him, but Eleanor would have lost her mother. He quickly shook off the thought, everyone was safe, and they were about to take steps to eliminate their greatest threat.
“Thank you Eleanor, it feels so much better.” Riley gave her one last hug before putting her back down. “Why don’t you go see Miss Gladys, she’ll take you into the kitchen to get something to eat. We need to have a grown up breakfast.”
Eleanor nodded and ran out of the room in search of Gladys. Riley and Liam approached the table as their friends stood to greet them. “Sit down weirdos, this isn’t a royal function, this is breakfast with friends.” Riley waived them off as everyone sat at the table. It was silent for a moment, nobody quite sure how to break the silence. “So I guess we should start by addressing the elephant in the room. Neville and Mara kidnapped me yesterday. Before you start with me; I’m fine, Neville has been arrested, Mara is dead.”
“Good riddance.” Olivia interrupted. The group laughed at her comment, breaking some of the tension in the room. 
Their friends listened with bated breath as Riley and Liam recalled the events from the day before. Riley told them about the kidnapping, and everything that transpired between her and Neville. She told them how Eleanor had come to her rescue, Liam tensing slightly, as this was the first time he had heard that part of the story. She went on to explain that Liam had come face to face with Eleanor, and how proud she was of him for confronting her and lifting that huge weight of his chest. 
Liam picked up the story from there, explaining that he said what he needed to say to get the closure he needed with his mother, and that he wanted to try to build some kind of a relationship with Thomas. He still wasn’t sure what that relationship would look like, but he was excited to find out. 
“So where do we go from here?” Maxwell asked, once the group had been fully caught up. 
“Well, we need to squash the Auvernal thing once and for all, and I think there’s only one way to do that.” Riley said. It was something she had been thinking about since the meeting where revisiting the alliance came up. “We’re going to have to release the information we got when we destroyed the alliance the first time. The only way we are going to put an end to this is to tell the world that the twins are not blood heirs to the throne.”
“But what if this group tries to spin it, or screw with the records?” Drake asked. Nobody was quite sure how to answer that, but it was a legitimate concern. 
“We out the Via Imperii. If they’re a secret society, announcing that they were behind the kidnapping of our Queen, and were trying to push forward a marriage alliance with heirs that do not have true birthright to the throne will knock them off their high horse.” Olivia stated. 
“But how do we know they know?”
Riley tapped her fingers against the table, thinking for a moment before chiming in. “We don’t Max, that’s fair. But they probably do, they seem to know just about everything else. Even if they don’t, they’re not going to hold their own press conference to contradict us. It kind of goes against their whole being a secret thing.”
“Very well, I will make sure to get a press conference scheduled in the coming days to make the announcements.” Liam chimed in. “I will also set up an emergency council meeting to inform them of our decision, and also move things forward with Neville.” 
“What are you going to do to him? Can I be the executioner?” The excitement in Drake’s voice made Riley and Maxwell giggle, while Olivia rolled her eyes.
Liam chuckled lightly before responding. “I have thoroughly thought out his punishment, we will review it in the council meeting tomorrow.” He cleared his throat before moving on to the next open item. “Finally, I have promised Thomas and his mother that the crown would protect them for their assistance in saving Riley. Nobody knows about Thomas’s connection to the crown, or my family, so he will not need to remain in hiding. However, he is going to be a target of the Via Imperii, so he will no longer be able to guard my family. I do have a position in mind for him, I would like him to work with Bastien and I to completely overhaul the guard program.”
“It’s about damn time.” Olivia scoffed. 
“I agree, Olivia. Regrettably, I have let the current program go far too long, and it almost cost my wife her life.” He reached over, taking Riley’s hand in his, offering an apologetic smile. “We absolutely cannot let another Mara slip through the cracks. With his intimate knowledge of the Via Imperii, I feel that he would be a great asset.” He paused as the room nodded in agreement. “As for his mother, she was a notable figure in Cordonia for many years, so she will need to remain in hiding. We will need to set her up in a safe house with a team of guards.”
Olivia cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. “I can house her in Lythikos.” All heads snapped in her direction, and she sat a little taller in her seat to overcompensate for the discomfort she felt in that moment. “When I was a child, she showed me a kindness I had never known at a time when I needed it most. Liam, I respect your decision not to reconnect with her because of what she did to you, I hope you can respect my decision to want to help her because of what she did for me.” 
Liam nodded. “Absolutely Olivia, as long as she and I do not cross paths, I will put her in your care.” 
“Ok, so we have all the work stuff out of the way. There’s a plan, nobody is in any immediate danger. Can we please relax and have a nice breakfast and enjoy what’s left of our getaway weekend?” Maxwell asked dramatically. 
“Amen to that.” Riley replied, pulling her napkin from the table and placing it in her lap. The group dug into their food, the mood much lighter than it had been when Liam and Riley arrived.
The next day Liam walked out of the state room. He had just adjourned the emergency meeting of the Royal Council to discuss everything that had been uncovered during their trip to Valtoria. He rushed to catch Drake, who had slipped out while Liam was still shaking hands and saying his goodbyes to the other council members. “Drake, hold on a moment.” 
Drake stopped walking and turned to face his friend. “Hey Li, what’s up? I was just going to head home.”
“I was actually hoping you could help me out with something. I’m heading down to the cells to personally deliver the news to Neville.”
Drake’s lips curled up into a devious smile. “And you want me to be there to see it all go down? Liam, I’m speechless. It’s not even my birthday.”
Liam chuckled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Well, it’s not just for you to bask in his misery, I need your assistance.” His expression turned serious before he continued. “Drake, after what he did to Riley, I don’t trust myself alone with him. I need you to be there to pull me off in case I go too far.”
“Li, you know I’m always there for you for anything you need, but do you really think I’m the best person to stop someone from hurting Neville? Honestly, I can’t even guarantee that I won’t jump in and throw a couple of punches myself.”
“Then we will bring Bastien along as well, but I would really appreciate it if I had you by my side for this.”
Drake nodded, and the two of them headed for the cells with Bastien in tow. When they arrived, Bastien took Neville from his cell and put him in one of the interrogation rooms. They waited before entering, giving him time to sit alone with his thoughts. Once Liam felt he had waited long enough he looked to Drake and the two entered the room together. Drake stepped back into the corner as Liam approached Neville, who was sitting at a table, but stood immediately upon the King’s entry. 
“Ah, so you are capable of showing respect to your betters. I had heard otherwise.” Liam took a seat, signaling for Neville to do the same. 
Neville scoffed. “Your majesty, I always have. Your queen just doesn’t happen to be one of them.”
“Oops, wrong answer.” Drake chimed in from the back corner. 
Liam shot up from his seat. He charged at Neville on the other side of the table, lifting him by the front of his shirt and holding his gaze. “How dare you speak of your queen, my wife, that way.”
“Liam, why don’t you give him the good news, before you beat the shit out of him? That way he’ll be able to fully appreciate it. I know I will.” At Drake’s words, Liam released Neville who shot an angry glance in Drake’s direction. Drake winked at him. 
“Of course Drake, thank you for keeping me on task.” Liam straightened his jacket and returned to his place at the table, sliding a folder across it to Neville. “Neville, you have officially been stripped of all of your titles and lands. This paperwork will provide you with the specifics, but as of about an hour ago, you are no longer a noble.”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, shocked at the new development. “You mean I am a…” He trailed off, unable to utter the word. 
“You’re a commoner, just like me!” Drake cheerily finished Neville’s sentence for him. 
Liam raised a hand to silence his friend. He was enjoying this just as much as Drake was, but as King he did need to keep an heir of levelheadedness about him. “You will also be tried with treason for kidnapping Queen Riley. Your trial will begin next week, and I don’t think you need me to tell you, but I will. It is not looking promising for you Mr. Vancoeur.” 
Neville crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “Wonderful, just let me know when the execution is to take place.”
“Oh Neville.” Liam laughed as he stood, once again walking to the other side of the table. “Do you really think you are going to be let off that easily?” Neville cocked an eyebrow as Liam got in his face, his demeanor calmer than before. “I have final say in all sentencing, and for you I have something in mind that will make you pray for death. You will be spending the remainder of your days in your cell, eating food that doesn't even register on the Michelin guide, knowing that you have no status, no pull. The life you once knew, a distant memory as you sit here for decades to come. That is the worst possible punishment I am able to bestow as your King.” Neville leaned back and audibly gulped. “As far as the punishment I am able to bestow as a husband…” Liam squared his shoulders and brought his fist back before thrusting it forward, making hard and fast contact with Neville’s jaw, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor. As he laid there holding his face, Liam approached once more, this time kicking Neville swiftly in the ribs. “How dare you lay a hand on my wife.” He crouched down on the ground, lifting Neville by his shirt. “Please know that there is more I would like to do to you, but you are not worth any more of my time. Just remember that my American commoner wife will be up there enjoying every luxury in the world, as she deserves, while you rot away down here dreaming of the life you once had.” 
Liam landed one last punch to Neville’s face before letting go of his shirt and watching his head hit the ground. He then slumped over, breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off. Drake approached him and patted him on the shoulder lightly. “C’mon buddy, let’s get out of here. You got what you came for.” 
Liam nodded silently as his friend helped him to his feet. Drake draped an arm around Liam’s shoulder and walked with him out of the room. He looked at Bastien, who had been waiting at the door and signaled for him to return Neville to his cell. Bastien gave Drake a curt nod and retreated to the interrogation room as Drake and Liam made their way back to the main area of the palace.
When they reached the foyer, Drake stopped Liam before he reached the steps. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want to go to your office for a drink or something?”
Liam brushed him off. “I’m fine Drake, I’m just going to head up to my quarters and relax with my family.” He extended his hand to Drake. “Thank you for coming with me today.”
“Of course man. Any time, any place. You know that.” Drake shook his hand and pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back before pulling away. “I’m going to call you later to check in.”
Liam gave him a small smile before turning and heading up the stairs towards his chambers. Upon entering, he was greeted by an empty living room. “Riley?” He called out.
“Bedroom.” He heard her faint reply from the hallway and followed the sound of her voice. 
He entered the room as she was exiting her walk-in closet holding multiple hangers. “I mean honestly, I love my life and how much you spoil me, but do I really need this many black dresses?” She let out an exasperated sigh before looking up and noticing Liam. “What happened? What’s wrong?” She dropped the dresses she was holding and rushed up to him.
“I just got back from the cells.”
“Liam Rys, what did you do?” Riley placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. 
“He’s fine, the medics will bandage him up. I’m sure losing his title hurt him much more than I did.” He grabbed her hands off of her hips and brought them to his lips. “He hurt you, Riley. He tried to take you away from me. I know he’s going to be punished for what he did, but it won’t ever be enough.”
Riley lifted his hand, examining it. It was red, bruises already beginning to form at the knuckles. She kissed each knuckle softly. “Come on, let’s ice it before it gets too bad.” She held onto his hand, leading him into the kitchen. “Sit.” she pointed to the kitchen table. 
Hey obeyed, sitting at the table as she went to the freezer, pulling out an ice pack and wrapping it in a dish towel. She joined him at the table, sitting on his lap, and taking his injured hand in hers once more. She pressed the ice pack to his knuckles, he hissed slightly at the feeling. She pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss as she continued to hold the ice to his hand. “To distract you from the pain.” She said with a wink as she pulled away.
“You have always been my favorite distraction.” He brought his free hand to her face, pulling her into a deeper kiss. “When is Eleanor due back?”
“Mmm..a little over an hour.” She cooed.
“Perfect, that will be more than enough time.” 
“For what?” 
“For me to cash in my rain check from yesterday.” Liam removed his hand from under the ice pack and lifted Riley bridal style to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.
@anjanettexcordonia​ @athena-penrose​ @bbrandy2002​ @chemist-ana​ @choicesficwriterscreations @choiceskatie​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @emkay512​ @gabesmommie1130​ @gkittylove99​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @kat-tia801​ @khoicesbyk​ @kingliam2019​ @lucy-268​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @mile9213​ @mom2000aggie​ @nestledonthaveone​ @phoenixrising308​ @pixie88​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ @queenrileyrose​ @secretaryunpaid​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @tessa-liam​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @twinkleallnight​ @txemrn​
Sapere Aude:
@burnsoslow​ @busywoman​ @gardeningourmet​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @tinkie1973​
Liam x Riley:
@amandablink​ @ao719​ @yourmajesty09​
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simonsrosebud · a year ago
the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 2
part one three four five
dalton’s apartment becomes a common occurrence over the next month.  kevin kisses dalton into the couch cushions, and then the bed.  and this one time it’s almost the same, except dalton interrupts.  “oh, hey, i’ll be at your game tomorrow- ah,” he breathes as kevin kisses down his neck.
kevin doesn’t like that.  no- he likes that, that dalton is willing to see him  do what he loves and all, but not that he told him right now.  because now he has to stop what he’s doing and explain.  explain that he’s pretty fucking famous in the exy world, that his mother is the creator of the sport, that he’s kevin day- what that entails.
but dalton takes it surprisingly easily.  he thinks it’s because he’s not invested in the sport in the way almost everyone else kevin knows is and just doesn’t get it, or maybe because he actually likes kevin for kevin and just doesn’t care about his past and the weight of his name.
because after kevin’s done dalton kisses away his frown and climbs onto his lap.  “don’t worry, hot shot, you’re still just a history nerd to me.”
kevin upgrades dalton and his friend to his family seats.  his friend seems to know exactly who he is when he goes up to them before warm ups, and by the guys face kevin realizes that dalton definitely didn’t tell his friend who they’d come for.
kevin hugs dalton.  “i’m not out yet,” he whispers.  “otherwise i’d kiss you.”
dalton grins like a child.  “later.”  he shrugs.
andrew mocks him in the car to fox tower after their win.  “invite your boyfriend?”  and he freezes.  “fuck you for thinking i’m an idiot.”
kevin thanks god that nicky rode with matt.  aaron and neil both look at him, though.  “you’re dating someone?”  neil will never not be oblivious.  aaron just sneers.
kevin stays quiet.  he should’ve known better from andrew, after all.  but he pulls out his phone.  come pick me up?
be there in 30, we're walking home from the stadium LOL
it's enough time to go hang out with the rest of the team and the vixens in the lounge, dan would kill him if he didn't show at all.  but he must lose track of time because eventually the door opens and instead of another fox it's dalton.  it's not enough to pause conversations, even though kevin is sure they all at least notice.
when kevin follows him out dalton knocks shoulders with his and smiles.  “are you drunk?  i noticed they were drinking.”
“no.  i’m um, i’m-i’m four months... sober.”
dalton is a pure angel because he smiles at kevin as he drives.  “that’s good, kev, i’m proud of you for that.”  and he doesn’t make him explain, or ask questions.  he takes it at face and lets it go, and it makes kevin want to bask in the feeling he gets from it.  it’s a different kind of trust than he’s used to.
he texts andrew that he’s not coming home for the night.  as soon as they get inside dalton’s place he has his lips on kevin’s.  “looked really hot tonight,” he mumbles and lets kevin walk him backwards towards his room.  “wish you still had your uniform on.  so strong,” and squeals when kevin picks him up.
“stop talking, d”
the next morning dalton drops him off at the stadium for training.  he doesn’t see anyone else there, so he lets dalton grab his face and kiss him before climbing out with a smile.
it fades when he sees nicky and allison staring at him as they exit the stadium.  he forgot it was therapy week for the team.
kevin freezes up.  nicky’s grinning, and allison continues walking to her car.  “wait!”  nicky wiggles his eyebrows when kevin grabs his arm.  “for once in your life, nicky, please don’t tell anyone.”
and it’s weird, because nicky kind of loses his smile.  “are you gay?  or bisexual?”
shrug.  “second.”
“are you serious about not telling people?  you’re obviously not out yet.”  kevin nods, and nicky smiles.  “i won’t tell.  i can keep secrets, you know, when they matter.”
kevin looks to allison, who looks to nicky.  “we’ve all noticed you hanging out with that guy lately.  if a bet about you two boning comes up we’re splitting the pot.”  nicky nods.  “secrets safe with me, then.”
kevin doesn’t tell them that andrew and neil know.  allison’s stubborn and he’s lucky he got her to keep her mouth shut on the first try.
he’s still moody during practice, though.  on their way back, andrew drives right past fox tower and to dalton’s apartment.  kevin doesn’t even realize until the car stops.  “what are-“
“get out.  you’re not allowed back until your mood is gone.”  and kevin could just walk back.  it’s only a fifteen minute walk, honestly, but he doesn’t really want to.  he wants dalton to wrap his body around him so he can take a nap and he wants to just hug him.  he’s realized over time that he’s been incredibly touch starved, and he’s become a fan of bear hugs.
he could feel himself distracted during practice, worrying himself over if he should tell the public that he’s bi to get ahead of it and worrying over what he and dalton are.  if it’s going in a direction that would even give him reason to come out.
so when dalton lets him in with a smile at the unexpected visit, kevin kind of falls into his arms and hugs him.  “can you hold me.”  it’s a different type of vulnerability, but dalton takes it with grace.
and eventually, when dalton’s lying on him with a hand in his hair, he asks, “do you wanna be my boyfriend?”
kevin snaps his head to look at him.  he runs his hand up dalton’s bare back.  “i’ve never been in a real relationship before.  my last one... she was toxic for me.”  triggering would be more accurate.
“that’s okay,” he whispers, his hand slides down to kevin’s face and he drags his thumb down his lip.  “just want you, kev.”
it’s the first time he thinks he’s ever heard something along those lines, and it hits so deep.  he rolls over dalton and kisses him into the mattress.
the foxes have a field day with it.
kevin doesn’t tell them, but he realizes two weeks later that allison was right when she guessed about them starting bets, and it doesn’t help when kevin brings dalton back to the suite only to find the upperclassmen and cousins all spread out on the couches and floor- minus renee and aaron.  he freezes and starts to walk backwards but andrew steps in front of him.  “stay.”
“why.”  but andrew doesn’t answer because he’s already said his piece, and kevin almost ignores him until neil pulls the vice captain card and forces him to stay.
kevin wants to hit him.
“it’s fine, kev,” dalton practically pulls him to the group.  dan greets him first and introduces herself.  “we’re playing never have i ever, drinking edition, if you wanna play, but you’ve got to drink for kevin, too”
and dalton’s wanted kevin’s friends to like him ever since he first saw them, so he doesn’t really want to say no.
“this is a bad idea.  they don’t play nice,” kevin says to dalton.  and he’s right.  the foxes don’t really play the game right, and all they do is go for each other.
kevin starts.
never have i ever payed a guy to knock me out:  neil takes a drink with murder in his eyes.  andrew’s behind him and flicks the back of his head.  he isn’t playing, but he’s not letting neil get wasted without being close by.  and also, he kind of lives there.
never have i ever gone to a peaceful exy banquet:  no one drinks, and for some reason it makes them all burst into laughter.
never have i ever done cracker dust:  dan says that one with a drunk pointed look.  the cousins, neil, and dalton for kevin all drink.
never have i ever had a panic attack over getting a phone:  neil
never have i ever kissed the same gender:  neil, nicky, allison, dalton takes two swigs.
never have i ever dated someone outside of exy:  nicky and dalton for kevin.
never have i ever broken a bone:  kevin, matt, aaron
broken a hand:  kevin
witnessed kevin having a meltdown:  everyone
lived with my dad for two years without telling him he was my dad:  kevin shoots daggers at allison.  dalton drinks for him.
had to get shitfaced to get a tattoo:  kevin
sent neil to west virginia:  kevin
seen kevin’s real smile:  dalton, neil
dated kevin:  dalton.  it settles a few bets all at once.
given kevin a blowjob:  dalton laughs before taking a drink, but that’s the last straw for kevin.  he’s sober as all hell and not letting them take the piss out of him and dalton like this.  “we’re leaving.”  he pulls dalton up.
dalton has an arm around his shoulders and his head ducked by kevin’s.  “s’fun, hm?”
kevin’s not having it.  it was not fun and he had reasons he didn’t want dalton meeting the foxes yet and the whole thing was fucked over because neil pulled the VC card and dalton was too nice to decline it.
neil says, in french.  “you knew he’d find out at some point”
kevin is furious.  “none of you had the right pulling the shit you did tonight.  i’ll fucking kill you.”  and he grabs dalton by the waist to escort him out.
all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!
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