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milkywaydrabbles · 8 months

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AHHHH!! all your rindou drabbles for kinktober are amazinggg , but that hanma shuji was the best one so far 😩!! can i request a #8,#17, and #37 with my man shuji 🙏🙏!

A/N: I'm posting this from the spirit realm please do not perceive me and the monster of a 4k fic I made for him I didn't mean to ;A; I like him a normal amount I promise. Anyways here's the fic I hope you like mwuahh. I also did the alternate universe of Hanma I'm sure that's not what you were exactly expecting but I wanted to keep it out of the realm of gangs just this once! I still tried to keep him a little mean hehe

Virginity/Orgasm denial/overstimulation x Hanma Shuji

You met Hanma when you went to the same school years ago, and being the shit head that he was, always picked on you for fun. It was never malicious the way it was when he was actively picking fights with other boys in gangs, but it was so fucking annoying you couldn’t help but cry with how frustrated you felt. He’d poke fun at you more, looming over you with how tall he was and just tease you until you stormed off. You remember that well, and definitely not fondly. Eventually you saw him less and less at school, and then he stopped coming altogether. The wave of relief that you felt when you were able to just go about your days in peace and quiet was immeasurable. Over time, and over the years, you thought of him less and less and forget him all the same, graduating high school, going to college, finding a job--Hanma was no longer a presence in your life.

Not until adulthood.

You were on your way home, feet dragging with how exhausted you had been feeling at the end of the week--work was hell, but you were grateful for the next two days off. You just needed to make it home in one piece. Of course that was asking for too much, because when you turned the corner your phone went flying out of your hand when you crashed into a brick of a body in front of you with a gasp. “Oh, shit” You hissed, scrambling to grab your phone with a flurry of apologies spewing out of your mouth. The body didn’t seem to acknowledge you, or so you thought, until you heard your name come out of a foreign mouth in a whisper. You paused, actually terrified now to look at who you bumped into, but looked up anyways--to someone you couldn’t recognize.

“Shit, it is you.” He breathed out with a laugh, smile appearing on his face. You frowned, brows burrowing up in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You tried not to be defensive, you really did, but life had turned sour on you at a young age and you didn’t trust any men these days anyways. So you crossed your arms and stood your ground, looking like you were ready to fight at any given moment. The man couldn’t help but cackle, it was like life had slapped him in the face--you weren’t the shy skittish little girl he remembered anymore. You had grown up, fended for yourself, obviously not afraid to get into arguments with men you supposedly didn’t know. He feigned hurt after his laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and jutted his lips in a pout. “Come on, you really don’t remember me? You threw your backpack on me real hard in middle school you know. I think I still have a scar from your book.” Ready to turn away with a middle finger you barely acknowledged what he said, “No I don’t remember....you...” He could practically see the gears in your head turning. “Oh...oh my god--Hanma?” He flashed you a dazzling smile, “In the flesh.”

“Oh fuck off.” You tried storming away, there was no way you had just ran into your middle school bully and he thinks he can just smile at you like you had been besties. You weren’t going to even think about it for the rest of the night, you just needed to get home. Hell maybe he changed, but you weren’t gonna sit there and find out. Not willingly at least, because it turns out he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “Woah, hey! Come on let’s just talk real quick doll face--” “Excuse me?” The shrill in your voice blatantly told him you were not having it. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” You stopped to look at him--really look at him and holy shit did he grow up. His hair was long to his shoulders, blonde money pieces nicely framing his face--one that was no longer grinning like a snarky piece of shit that you remembered, but soft--eyes almost pleading with you to just give him a chance for the night. And fucking tall--standing taller than six foot you craned your head to look up. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before answering. “Come on, there’s a bar along the way.”

“You’re....so different.” you commented.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You learned he left the gang life behind years ago, and that he was a freelance photographer. You also learned that he made lots of friends from his old gang life that actually stuck, and that one of them recently got married. He told you about his travels, about the time he was in juvie (more than once), about what he did after he left school.

And he told you about how he never quite stopped thinking about you.

That made you pause your commentary at each remark, unable to take a breath in after the admission. Then you scowled. “You were an asshole Hanma. You know that? You were so fucking mean to me. And you’re saying you thought about me all these years? Ha, thought about what, how funny it was to torment me?” You let your anger flow freely with the help of the beer that was now warmed on the table top. He let you vent, getting out all your frustrations that you were never able to when you were a kid--to scared to know what he would do in retaliation. You thought this was better than therapy (and cheaper too.) When you finished your monologue of how much of a dick he was, you threw back the rest of the beer (gross) and looked at the sticky table. He made no moves to get up, which you were surprised over, instead you peeked up at him through your lashes and saw a man that looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “I’m...wow. Yeah. I was the worst, wasn’t I?” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I didn’t...and listen, this isn’t an excuse, really it’s not, but I didn’t know how to act. You were the cutest girl in school and I just...I was a prick. Life was shitty growing up, and everyone always said ‘if you like a girl pick on her’. I guess it was too much, huh..” Another laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I’d never see you again and now you’re here and I don’t--fuck, I’m sorry pretty girl.” Hanma hung his head in shame, playing with the emptied beer bottle in front of him riddled with anxiety.

There was too much to unpack in one night. You couldn’t believe half of the things he had even said to you tonight. So you decided to sit with it for a while. You excused yourself quietly, after (attempting and failing) to pay for your drink. “I...I have to go, Hanma.” He sighed, understanding enough anyways--it was a long shot for you to ever forgive him. But then your phone appeared in his line of sight, opened up to a new contact page with his name already up. His eyes shot up at you, hopeful, and took your phone without a pause to write in his number, he might have also changed his name just a bit, adding a heart at the end of ‘Hanma’ , so dry. You rolled your eyes at that, mumbling ‘don’t push your luck’, but kept it anyways.

For the next few weeks (months?) Hanma had integrated himself heavily into your life. You texted him every day, called just as much, and even met up with him for food or drinks a handful of times as your schedules permit. It was odd, having this bond form with someone you used to despise. But it’s not healthy to hold onto grudges like that. Especially from such a young age, and you knew he was really sorry, especially since he admitted to you night one that he had a crazy crush on you. So you let it go over time, and started seeing Hanma shine with his annoying personality again. And once he came out of his shell, really, he acted almost the same. Snarky, making faces, overly cocky like he couldn’t be beat. But he was softer now, and you found it endearing, especially when he’d come to your rescue. You’d be waiting for him to show up at your usual bar spot and be cornered by a man who was too drunk to look at you properly but was still in your face. “Come on, pretty. What’s your name huh?” You scoffed, leaning away from him as you grabbed your drink and covered the top. “Fuck off, dude. Not here for you.” You’d hear the drunkard grumble something about you being a bitch and before you were able to turn to look at him again and tell him off, you saw a tattooed hand grip his shoulder. “What was that?” Hanma leaned down to get in his face, toothpick in between his teeth as he waited.

“Fucking--nothing, dude, get off me.” Before you knew it the drunk was knocked on his ass on the floor and Hanma was shrugging it off, telling the bartender “He’s too drunk to be here, can we get him out?” with a shrug and a smirk when he was dragged off by security (as if Hanma wasn’t the one to shove him). You breathed out a giggle and smiled, thanking him for the save--and silently calming yourself down. He looked...good, turning back into his intimidating self when it wasn’t directed towards you. You wouldn’t mind seeing him like this more often, especially to your defense. You shake off the feeling and continue on with your conversation as you always do, though you’re distracted with the way he pushes his hand back, and how his veins in his hands look, and how--

“Hey, you good?”

You blink, startled and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately for you, Hanma has been getting too comfortable around you now. “What, see something you like?” He cooed, dipping his head lower to meet your eyes, voice now to a whisper. You fidget away, drink long forgotten as you try to remember how to breathe again, furrowing your brows. "I don't think I want to be here anymore." It was his turn to frown. "Hey no I'm sorry, I was joking—" "I'm hungry. Do you...wanna just grab takeout and go to my place?" Silently he nodded, dumbfounded that you had invited him over. It felt like an unspoken rule–he wouldn't ask if he could go over, knowing the answer would be 'no.' You weren't ready for him to invade your space like that. But after all this time, after close to six months of non stop talking and relearning each other it felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to ask. Even if you were a little nervous about it. And so you (he) paid your tab and left.

–

The two of you sat comfortably on the floor of your living room, eating from shared plates and having mindless movies on in the background as conversation continued. "Thanks for letting me over, doll–not gonna lie I was getting tired of always going out to a bar." He teased, laughing when he felt you shove him a little with your shoulder. "Be grateful, Hanma." You rebutted with a smile.

"Shuji."

....

"What?"

"Come on, we’ve been talking for months now. You can’t just call me Shuji? Not just once?”

You placed your chopsticks down, that fuzzy feeling coming back into your stomach the same as when you stared at him earlier. Could you call him Shuji? Did you think you were close enough to do that? He was so different than the Hanma you knew all those years ago, but somehow the same–still poking fun but now it felt good, the teasing and the taunting was reciprocated–maybe even building up to something else, that you had refused to unlock. “Come on pretty girl,” the name made your head spin and your face get hot, and him leaning in closer to you didn’t help. Hanma brushed your cheek, thumbing at your skin when he cupped your face, “just once. Just call me Shuji, please.” Your breathing hitched, eyes dropping down to look at his lips, and when you looked back up at him you noticed he’d done the same thing. “...You’re being so stupid, Shuji.” Your voice was barely heard above the sound of the TV. He chuckled, lips brushing against yours, “yeah well, you know what they say–love makes you stupid.” You closed the gap that barely existed to begin with, hands latching on to the front of his shirt as Hanma invaded your senses.

The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, too much– everything and everywhere all at once. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when Hanma had been such a constant in your life recently, not when he admitted to loving you. You could practically feel the cockiness come flooding back, Hanma smiling into the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, easily slipping his tongue in after you granted him access. He’d taken over quickly, hand on your cheek pressing the back of your head deeper into him and the other trailing around your waist to pull you close. He had you straddling him, and you still were trying to keep up with the kiss. “Sh-Shuji, wait, h-hold on.” You broke free enough to speak if only for a moment, but he continued with the kisses down your jaw, and neck, and nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Fuck, his voice dipped low–the gravely sound was shooting straight down to between your legs. It was hard to breathe, he wasn’t letting up enough for you to tell him, but you needed to, you needed to–

“I’m a virgin.”

Hanma immediately stopped his ministrations, the sound of the TV turning more into white noise than whatever was going on. When he didn’t speak, you felt the need to explain. “I just, I don’t know–don’t fucking laugh, I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” You huffed, embarrassed. “I just...was never interested in hookups. And everyone fucking sucked, so I never...”You trailed off, looking away when Hanma tried to meet your eyes. He cupped your face so sweetly, small smile on his lips as he did so. “Look at me, baby.” His fucking petnames were going to kill you. But you listened anyways. “We can stop, or we can just make out–doesn’t matter to me as long as I have my hands on you.” He snickered and you wanted to smack him. You thought about it too, but you don’t think you’d find anyone better than Hanma.

You loved him, too.

“I don’t want to stop, Shuji.”

He didn’t need anything else after that.

–

“Aah, fuck, Shuji y-you’re being mean again.” You whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Hanma had your legs open around his waist, working his fingers deep into your virgin hole. It’s already been twenty minutes of him slowly working you open, curling two of his fingers in your cunt and pushing up against that squishy part of your walls that had you climbing up to your orgasm–only for it to never come. Hanma kept fucking stopping. He’d feel how your walls started to clench and twitch around his long fingers, and the absolute bastard would only snicker and pull them out, slapping them lightly against your clit. “Aw, sorry baby–Just can’t get enough of how you look.” He teased, devil horns practically growing on his skull. This was the Hanma you remembered from middle school, and it seems his sadistic torture moved from taunting you at school to taunting you in your own bed. But you don’t think you cared too much, not now. Not when you saw the love in his eyes. Slowly, Hanma pushed in a third finger, a hand coming down to push you into the mattress and keeping you still. “Gotta prep you, doll–don’t want it to hurt, right?” And you don’t think it would, you had toys, it wasn’t unknown territory, but you kept your mouth shut anyways when he looked at you like that, eyes devouring you. His pace quickened, pumping his thick fingers in and out, in and out, until he saw your nose scrunch up and your mouth open–whining and crying out as you climbed closer and closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You could feel it, and you spread your legs just a bit more to give him more space, eyes rolling to the back of your head–

And then he pulled out.

“Shuji!” You were so frustrated, tears flowing freely now with how angry you were feeling. You were ready to start telling him off, until he grabbed your jaw and loomed over you with such authority it made your skin crawl. “If you don’t stop me now, baby doll, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.” His aggressive tendencies never really went away it seemed, even after leaving the gang life behind you had such a grip on him it made him crazy. “Tell me no, and we’ll stop.” He waited a beat, squeezing a bit more at your jaw expectantly. You simply stared at him, stars in your eyes as you looked up at the man.

“Keep going.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Hanma kept the hand tightly on your jaw as his messy fingers slipped back into your weeping cunt, finger fucking into you harder and faster than before, all three curling up back into that gummy part and not letting up this time. Your mouth hung open with the pressure he kept on you, moans flowing freely out–you babbled, repeating his name until it all just jumbled together in messy cries. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pressure building up so fast was dizzying. Your eyes rolled back, bordering screaming as he fucked into you. He said nothing, just kept staring at your face of pleasure as you finally descended into your orgasm, crashing over you in waves and not stopping. Your juicy pussy was splashing him, fingers slipping over to rub over your clit just as quickly. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, lower body spasming as he kept you at that high. “Too much, too much Shu–too much!” your legs were aching to close, and he let up just enough to let you get away, smacking your pussy twice before.

Hanma leaned down kissing your throat after letting go of your jaw, whispering against you “First it was not enough, now it’s too much.” He taunted, nipping at your skin before kissing up to your lips again. Even when he was being mean again, he pet your head and wiped away your tears. “You sure you wanna keep goin’ pretty?” You hiccupped, taking the time he’s graciously given you to take a breather, and nodded. He smiled like the devil himself and planted a harsh smooch right on your lips before moving back, lining his cock against your wet folds. “Y’ready, baby doll?” Another nod. He pushed in.

“Ah fuck, Shuji–s’big.” you gasped, arching your back in the pleasure and slight pain you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself–he was big, though you knew you were feeding his ego when you heard a laugh tumble from his lips–deep in his chest. “You’re okay, baby–gonna stretch you out nice on my dick.” He started moving slow, and you swore you could feel each vein as his cock stretched your walls around him. His movement was deliberate, passionate, like he was making sure your pussy would be molded to only take his cock for the rest of your life. Though even if he told you so, you’d openly admit you’d never be able to be with another man after him. As he felt you loosen enough to move freely, he fucked into you faster, leaning over onto his forearms–dropping his forehead to yours, hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “You waited for me, baby? Waited so I could take your virginity, right?” He spoke nonsense and you both knew it. But fuck, he felt so good inside of you, you couldn’t help but let him hear exactly what he wanted. “Waited for you, Shuji–wanted to give it to you.” You were able to barely get your words out before he groaned above you, humping you like a dog in heat. “Fuck, baby doll–pussy’s so fucking tight.” His jaw tightened as he got the words out, angling himself to feel you cum around him again. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, come on, give it to me.” his hips slammed against yours, wicked pace stealing your breath. Silent screams escaped you, gasping and crying when you came around him again, and he relished in the feeling of your abused cunt clenching and twitching around him. “There we go” He breathed out a laugh, kissing your tears as they fell.

Hanma only let up enough to get his hands on the backs of your thighs and push them up to your chest. He was fully over you now, continuing to pound into your swollen pussy. “Shujiii” You whined, nails clawing at his wrists but unable to move him. At this angle he kept hitting all the right spots and you needed him to slow down. Yet the only word that would spill from your mouth was his name, like a silent prayer or mantra. Your third orgasm of the night came quickly, messier than the first two–your juices splashing on his thighs as he kept fucking into you. Folding in half you had no power to stop him, only able to take the pleasure that was bordering on painful with how quickly he was making you cum with no breaks. “Come on, pretty girl, come on.” Hanma was far gone, pupils blown out with lust–mumbling to himself more than to you, bed creaking underneath you with his strength.

He maneuvered your thighs to be pressed against your chest with one arm, his now free hand finding your swollen clit and pinching– your screams and moans filling the room as your fourth orgasm felt like a house of bricks being dropped on you. You covered him in your juices, his cock now covered in a frothy white layer that webbed and stuck to the both of you. Even as he let go of your clit, Hanma was still chasing that high–so close to getting off. He wrapped his free hand around your jaw, covering your throat and shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Look at me baby.” He ground out, just to see your fucked out face eyes all teary and glassy. Your mouth was upturned in a slight smile, completely cockdrunk. It was enough to push him over the edge and still deep inside you, shooting his thick load in your abused hole.

Silence filled the air, and slowly Hanma let go of your face and your legs, pulling out and hissing when he felt his cum dribble out with him. “Fuck..don’t think I’ll ever stop dreaming about that.” He laughed, and laughed harder when your weak hand slapped his shoulder. He dropped his weight next to you, collecting you in his arms with a kiss to your temple. “How you feelin’ baby doll?” He whispered, and you hummed, snuggling deeper into him. “Good. Sore. Always so mean to me.” You teased, feeling yourself off into sleep. He smiled at your temple and let you drift into slumber, at least for now–he’d have to clean you up.

Until then, he reached over to your phone and finally changed his name in your phone, keeping the heart but replacing his surname with ‘Shuji’.

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slytherintrikru · 9 months

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|| First Time || (‘It Wasn’t A Dream’ part 2)

— Part 2 —

Pairing: Severus Snape x gryffindor!student!reader (SHE’S OF AGE)

Word Count: 5206

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 16+, dry humping, fingering, clit rubbing, cock in Vigina, male and female, adult content, adult language, cuss words, cum swallowing, fluff, out of character snape, newly graduated student, professor, younger woman with older man, first time, first kiss, kissing, hickeys, both are virgins. (SHE IS OF AGE)

Summary: Y/N and Severus have been dating for three months. She has just found out she graduated Hogwarts, will Severus and her celebrate in a special way? Read to find out. (SHE’S OF AGE)

Requested: by no one this is my idea

A/N: Hello, my fellow Dreamers, hope you like part 2 of ‘It Wasn’t A Dream’. This part might have smut, but you have to read to find out..😏 BTW I also already posted this on my AO3 account @ slytherintrikru. ( PS: hope you don’t mind I called you guys dreamers. I wanted my readers to have a name instead of being just ‘readers’ or followers’)

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Y/N's heart raced with excitement as she dashed down the corridors of Hogwarts, her footsteps echoing through the ancient stone walls. Passing her 8th year was an incredible achievement, especially considering the tumultuous years when Voldemort had threatened the school and everyone in the wizarding and muggle world. A mixture of disbelief and pride surged within her; she couldn't believe she had not only survived but thrived in the magical world. With the recent defeat of Voldemort by Harry Potter, a renewed sense of hope permeated the air. Y/N's destination was the dungeons, where Severus Snape, her devoted boyfriend, resided. The thought of seeing him made her steps quicken even more. She couldn't wait to share her accomplishment with him, someone who understood her struggles and dreams. As she hurried towards his private chambers, she imagined how they would celebrate her graduation from Hogwarts together, cherishing the moments that lay ahead.

She’s hoping to Merlin that they could celebrate by taking things further in their relationship.

Y/N and Severus had been entwined in a love that felt as though it had existed for far longer than three months. Despite the simplicity of their interactions—conversations that danced between intellect and laughter, and passionate moments that left them breathless—they couldn't quench their thirst for one another. It was a love born of mutual admiration and deep understanding. Y/N was wholeheartedly enamored by Severus, his every word and touch etching deeper into her heart. Her desire to build a life with him, to be his partner in every sense of the word, consumed her thoughts. With every tender kiss and whispered confession, he reciprocated her feelings, the unspoken understanding between them affirming their connection. Y/N longed to make him see himself through her eyes, to recognize the extraordinary beauty he possessed, both inside and out. Their love was a tapestry woven with unwavering devotion, a promise of forever that left them yearning for nothing more than each other's embrace.

In those transformative three months, their connection deepened immeasurably, leading to revelations that brought them closer than ever. With a profound sense of vulnerability, they confessed that they were both virgins, their body’s unclaimed by anyone before. Y/N, despite her curiosity, had never allowed herself the exploration of pleasure, each attempt leaving her searching for something more profound. Severus, too, had kept his desires in check, his solitary moments reserved for relief rather than intimacy. But as their love flourished, so did their longing to bridge the gap between them physically. Today held the promise of a change they both yearned for desperately, the culmination of their shared desires and the day Y/N had eagerly anticipated since the moment her feelings were laid bare.

She just hopes that it’s the day where she and him could make love. She's been daydreaming about it for a while and each time she created scenarios her body and mind would scream for to go to him.

Y/N's heart raced as she finally reached his chambers, her anticipation pulsating with each breath. With an eager hand, she swiftly opened the door, her eagerness spilling into the room. The door closed with a resounding thud, and her voice burst forth, calling out for her beloved Severus. "Severus!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and excitement, the sound of her own voice echoing off the walls of his private haven.

“Sev! Severus!” She yelled for him again, waiting with intensity as she heard his bedroom door open abruptly. He stepped out of the room and before he could even get a word in, Y/N ran and flung her arms around Severus, almost knocking both of them over in the process. Luckily Severus caught himself and instantly wrapped his arms immediately.

“Hi, love.” He whispered for only her to hear, as if there was no else in the world but them, her smile widened even more hearing his rough, sexy voice in her ear. “I take it you’ve seen your grades?”

“Yes! I graduated, Severus. I did it Sev!” She happily said. She pulled back looking into his dark chocolate brown eyes. She saw as his smile widened across his face and his eyes twinkled with love and admiration as he looked at her.

“I’m proud of you, my little one.” He whispered for only her to hear. His smile was as bright as hers while saying this. His hands were rubbing her softly on her back up and down. She felt relaxed with him doing that, she loved this side of him so very much.

“I couldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn't for your encouragement, Severus. You helped me a lot!” She said, letting her hands slide up and around his neck and through his shoulder-length ink black hair. Severus sighed at the feeling at her soft and gentle touch before speaking again.

“It was all you, little one, I merely helped. You’re the one who studied and successfully passed. You did all the work, little love.” He said, pulling her as close as he possibly could while tightening his grip almost as if she was going to disappear at any moment and never return to him again.

Without realizing what she was saying she spoke the three words neither of them had spoken, “I love you.” She muttered, she stopped with what she was doing and froze looking shocked as ever, scared to stare into his eyes. This is the first time I ever spoke that out loud, she thought. After a few moments she finally looked at Severus, his smile was gone, he had the same expression as hers on his face. oh no I ruined the moment. She thought. “I’m s-“ she started to speak but was cut off by him.

“I love you too, my precious one.” He said, now smiling again. Kissing the top of her head.

“Really?” She happily questioned. Staring into his dark brown eyes trying to find an answer for her simple question.

“Yes really, I have been meaning to tell you, but you’ve beat me to it.” He muttered, leaning in kissing her lips softly, the kiss was so soft it was as if he was making a wish with a dandelion, before pulling away. His hands moved from her back and found a place on her hips, squeezing lightly.

Time seemed to stand still as Y/N and Severus locked eyes, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them in those fleeting moments. The air was charged with an unspoken understanding, their gazes speaking volumes that words could never capture. In the hushed intensity of their connection, Severus leaned towards her once more, their lips meeting in a kiss that held the promise of countless unspoken desires. The touch was gentle yet electric, a fusion of tenderness and urgency that encapsulated their longing.

The kiss became more and more needy by the second, it started to become needy in a sexual way, it wasn’t just a normal snogging session. As he finally surrendered to the pull that had drawn them together, the world around them faded, leaving only the exquisite sensation of their lips meeting in a union of shared affection.

Y/N was flushed, she was more flushed than she was when they shared their first kiss a few months ago, “I want to have sex with you.” She bluntly told him. She looks away embarrassed about her outburst of words.

Severus grabs her chin gently, making her look at him.

“You do? Do you want to take this further, my baby girl?” He asked, smirking.

“Yes please make me feel good, Sev.” She muttered honestly, looking lovely at him.

“Ok, my little butterfly, but if you start to feel uneasy just tell me and I’ll stop.” She nodded in response.

Her gaze shifted between his lips and his eyes, a magnetic pull drawing her back and forth. Without hesitation, she crushed her lips against his once more, the kiss ignited with an insatiable fervor. In response, he met her passion with an intensity that mirrored her own, his lips moving in perfect harmony with hers. A hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her closer, while the other found its way to her ass, the heat of his touch electrifying her senses. Stepping backward, he guided her until her back met the cool solidity of the wall, the embrace intensifying their connection. His tongue traced the contour of her lower lip, a silent request for entry that she willingly granted, allowing him to explore the depths of her mouth. A subtle struggle for dominance unfolded as their tongues danced, an unspoken battle that she ultimately relinquished to him. Slowly, his lips embarked on a journey downward, leaving a trail of heated, moist sensations along her jawline, inching closer to the tender spot at her throat that begged to be found.

She moaned, he smirked knowing that he has found the spot that makes her whimper for him and only him. Her hands moved towards his hair and she tightened her grip in his soft and fluffy hair causing the man to growl in response, he slapped her ass. A whine left her lips, making him smirk.

“My eager little princess, moaning for me and only me. Now be my good little angel girl and take what you want.” He hissed into her ear seductively. The hand that he had in her hair moved from her head, and made its way down towards her shorts, pulling them back quickly, before sticking his hand completely into her shorts and underwear. His thumb found its way to her clit, rubbing her bundle of nerves slowly causing her to let out a soft moan. “Yes, my darling little one. Moan for me. Just for me, ONLY for me.” He said tighten his hold on her with his other arm.

He pushed his thumb harder into Y/N’s clit, rubbing tight and slow circles as he kissed and nipped at her neck, making her feel pleasure she has never felt a day in her life. She lifted one of her legs and tightly wrapped it around his waist bucking her hips into his hand so she could get as much pressure on her clit as possible. Y/N wanted his mouth on her neck again, kissing her skin, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling slightly, causing his face to fall forward burying it on the side of her neck. Severus growled again, getting the jester, her lover attached his lips to her neck sucking on her neck.

“Please Sev! Please.” She gasped, as she moans at the new feeling he was making her feel.

“Does this feel good my angel? Does this make you want to cum? Hmm?” Speeding his thumb up more as his middle finger made its way to her opening, entering her swiftly yet softly, making her jump a little from the new pressure, his middle finger stilled for a moment and then he started to move in a come here motion. When he felt Y/N start to move her hips into his hand faster, his middle finger sped up. He spoke again, “That’s it, my sweet sweet love, move your hips and rub that pussy on my hand, take what you want from me. My little angel, your pussy feels so fucking good and my cock hasn’t even entered you yet.”

She did as he told her and started moving even faster, moaning and panting at the way he was making her feel. Y/N moved harder when she felt this odd sensation in her abdomen. It felt like her insides was doing flips, she likes that feeling. He felt her velvety walls squeezed around his finger and he sped up his pace in her tight, soft, wet hole while he added more pressure to her clit making sure her pussy throbbed for him more. This is the first time she has felt like this down there and it feels so good. She wants more. She continued to rub her pussy on his hand making sure to add pressure to her bundle of nerves so she’ll be able to feel that pleasure in her abdomen again. FUCK! fuck, want more of him, just him, only him. Feels so good. He makes me feel so good, so wet. Her thoughts were cut by the sound of her own moans. Her mind spinning in circles while pussy was pulsing around his thick finger and it felt spectacular.

“Yes! Oh Merlin, yes. Severus don’t stop I- you feel so- awh.“ she pulled him tightly against as she was stopped by her own cry of pleasure, she felt a hot liquid spill from her pussy all over his hand and her underwear. I came already? She thought. Her face turned a bright shade of red, she felt embarrassed that she couldn’t hold it in and that she came that quickly.

Instead of moving his hand he let out a deep groan while she was cumming all over his hand as he continued to add even more pleasure to her clit so she’ll be able to ride out her high, which he caused. He started to kiss and bite at her neck while making his way down her chest leaving hickies so everyone will know she belongs to him and him only. His arm around her squeezed her delicately as he held her body to him not wanting to move.

Finally, removed his hand and pulled back just enough so she’ll be able to see him stick his fingers in his mouth, tasting her juices while moaning and groaning as he did so. He quickly pulled his fingers out of his mouth and kissed her passionately letting her know she did good for him. He finally pulled away looking at her beautiful face, smirking at the way her eyes was barely open and mouth agape. Knowing it was him who did this to her made him brim with pride. So fucking beautiful. He thought.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and heard.” He breathed out, her eyes opened fully and she saw his pupils was dilated. Y/N could hardly see his brown onyx eyes anymore. When her eyes met his that was when he saw the look in her beautiful eyes, he instantly knew what she was feeling and said, “Don’t second guess yourself, little one, what you just did was dangerously sexy.” He kissed her lips again.

She felt the weight on her chest lift at his words.

“That felt so amazing, Severus I never felt like that in my lifetime and I want more Sev, please give me more. Please.” She begged almost moaning in the process. “Make me yours completely Sev. Fuck me hard and fast into the bed.”

In a moment of involuntary movement, her hips shifted forward against his hard clothed cock, causing him to let out a suppressed moan. Her own nervousness showed as she tentatively pressed closer, her breath catching at the sensation. Amidst the uncertainty, her body's response had soaked through her underwear and shorts, revealing her arousal. Severus leaned his head back, absorbing the overwhelming sensations, letting a hint of pleasure course through him. He proceeded cautiously, wanting to ease her into the experience without causing any pain. Their hips began to sway together, a mixture of curiosity and excitement in the air as they both emitted soft, unsure sounds. The rhythm intensified, and he pushed against her a bit more urgently, feeling the tension build. Their movements became faster, though they retained a degree of innocence in their exploration. They moan loudly at the new feeling. Gently, he held her hips to still their motion, preparing for the next step. With a nervous yet determined resolve, he lifted her and guided her towards the bedroom, laying her down as he hovered above. In the safety of that private space, they continued their intimate movements, her legs wrapping around his hips to bring him closer, both of them navigating new territory with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He battles with the urge to halt, recognizing the need for restraint, even as the tantalizing sensation of her moist core against him remains irresistible. Pausing for a brief moment, he hurriedly removes his own clothes, seeking her permission with an inquisitive glance. With an eager nod, she signals her consent. Swiftly, he undresses her, mindful of her comfort, and then he grasps his firm, long, thick, & hard cock. Gently inserting himself between her folds, they resume their rhythm of gentle grinding. He pays careful attention to ensure the tip of his shaft presses against her sensitive areas, particularly her clit, generating pleasurable pressure against her bundle of nerves. Y/N becomes captivated by the sensations, as if she's been transported to an ethereal realm she never wishes to depart from. The seamless glide of his impressive length along her folds, the precise alignment that brings the tip of his member into contact with her clit, all contribute to her enchantment. Amidst her heightened arousal, her moans escape once more, and she clings tightly to him, wrapping her legs around his form in a blend of desire and trepidation.

“Feels. So. Good.” With each word he said he thrusted harder than the last causing her to moan into his ear. The bed started to shake at how hard and fast he was pushing into her. His cock sliding and pushing against her whole pussy that has become wetter than before letting him easily move against her folds. The veins on his cock were becoming more evident. He loudly moaned into her ear feeling so much pleasure from the way they were rubbing together. She loves that sound.

He bucked his hips into her, rubbing his already hard cock against her humping as fast and as hard as he could. He slipped his hand between them, opening her pussy lips so she could feel his cock on her throbbing core. She moaned. The way he made sure his cock was hitting her clit every time he moved his dick into her was making her see stars in her eyes. Her eyes disappeared into the back of her head at how good he was making her feel. She couldn’t get enough and wanted more so she started moving her hips as well adding on to the pleasure. Her nails dug into his back making Severus hiss in pleasure and pain. Even dry humping feels good to her. Fuck her cunt feels so amazing against me. His eyes slowly closed from the pleasure as he just lived in the moment feeling so good at what he was receiving and loving ever second of it.

“Awh, fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby harder.” She moaned, coping him by pushing harder and faster into him when she said each word.

He pressed into her with force, a fervent desire to draw as close as physically possible evident in his movements. His weight bore down on her as he thrust, the pulsating ache of his erection yearning for fullness within her, though restraint held him back. His primary focus lay in preparing her for the impending connection. Unrestrained, he persisted in their dry humping, the friction intensifying as he pressed firmly against her, attuned to her moans that seemed to implore him for equal pleasure. Encouraged by her engagement, she matched his rhythm, enhancing their mutual experience with the urgency of her own movements.

“Do. You. Like. The. Way. My. Cock. Feels.” He said thrusting a lot faster with each word he spoke, putting as much weight on her cunt as he possibly could, making her bundle of nerves throb and tingle even more. She moaned out a ‘yes’ feeling intoxicated by his big cock. He moved back slightly before thrusting hard towards her causing her to whine out. He growled back in return.

Before words could escape either of them, a shared moan erupted as they reached a climax in tandem. As the echoes of their orgasms subsided, she resumed her movements against him, driven by an unquenchable desire. Clinging tightly with her legs, she intensified her grinding, an urgent determination guiding her actions. She seemed possessed by an insatiable craving for him, an overwhelming force that resisted any attempt to halt. Each motion was driven by an unyielding need for more, a single focus on him alone. Her attentiveness to his pleasure remained evident as she maneuvered, ensuring his substantial length struck precisely against her bundle of nerves. The fervor of her actions escalated, pressing him further against her in a testament to her yearning. Her hand ventured downwards to the point of connection, exerting pressure upon him that elicited twin whimpers of shared longing. Progressing with unabated eagerness, her fingers encircled him, stimulating the head of his erection with unrelenting intensity against her clit.

“Love, you have to stop so I can continue getting you ready to take my cock in your tight cunt.” He muttered, while breathily moans escaped his lips and filled her ears turning her on even more. Her pussy feels so good on my cock though, he thought. He moaned lowly again feeling her pussy heat on him when she pushed his whole dick against her wetness.

“No! No! Please more, I don’t wanna stop. I want to feel good again, Sev. I want to cum again, please keep going.” She begged “Please, so good, almost there,

your cock feels so damn good on my cunt.”

“I will make you cum again, love, but you have to stop for a second.” Her hips stilled waiting for his next move she felt him lift her up so he could sit on the bed this time, his hand moving towards her clit to rub circles again. Y/N moans loudly, making Severus smirk and speed up his movements with his hand. She felt the familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach again, Severus noticed and stopped his movements. She whines at the loss.

“W-W-Why did you stop!” She whimpers, trying to get more friction on her clit, but he held Y/N still and flipped her over on the bed. He was on top of her now, between her legs. Severus smirked at how eager she was.

“I’m not even close at being done with you, my slutty princess. This time, I’m burying my big cock inside of your wet tight little cunt. I want you to moan my name as you squeeze me and milk my cock with your cum until you go dry. My beautiful horny girl. Are you ready to take my cock, love?” He questioned in a low yet deep dark voice. Almost growling like a wild animal in the process. He looks into her beautiful E/C eyes. She nods eagerly. “I need you to use your words, my beautiful queen.”

She blushed, “Yes, please, I need you in me!”

“Ok, my sweet, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way just like me know and I’ll stop.” He said, she nods in response.

He resumed a trail of kisses, traveling along her neck before descending toward her breasts. As he reached them, his lips enclosed around one, sucking with a purposeful intensity on the erect bud while manipulating and fondling the other. The sensation drew her body upward, arching off the bed to amplify the friction between them. A sharp hiss of discomfort escaped her lips when he bit down on her nipple, momentarily shifting her focus. Simultaneously, his other hand ventured downward, finding its destination at her soaked entrance. Though she winced at the heightened sensitivity from her twice-repeated climax, he collected the evidence of her pleasure on his hand, then brought it to her mouth, prompting her to taste herself. In response, her moans of mingled vulnerability and desire filled the air.

One of his hands was placed by her head, while the other moved its way down toward his cock, grabbing it. His lips moved from her chest making their way towards her neck again, kissing and sucking feverishly.

He started to rub the red swollen tip of his cock on her pussy getting ready to fuck get into the bed. He groaned loudly while he rubbed his dick against her, feeling pleasure in doing so. Moving his cock up and down her soft pussy. He circled his cock around her opening before moving toward her sensitive clit. He has never expressed this desire before nor has she and it felt like he was on cloud 20 not 9, 20. It felt almost like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. A dream where they fuck for infinity and never stop no matter how much it hurts. He rubbed harder as his pre- cum started to drip and cover her pussy with his arousal.

“Do you want me to go slow and easy or do you want me to slam into you hard and fast to get the pain over with as soon as possible?”

“Start off slow, then slam into me hard and fast. I can take it, Sev.” He nodded.

Moving his cock towards her wet entrance he slowly let the tip of his dick slide in. After he slid in a bit he pulled back out and then pushed back in not going all the way in just enough so she’ll be able to feel what he’s about to do. He continued that for a while making her a moaning and squirming mess underneath him before she was begging for more.

Without warning he pulled back a little than harshly slammed back into hard making her yelp in pain but pleasure as well his hips stilled for a moment. Damn she’s so fucking tight and wet. Calm down Severus it’s her first time as well as yours but this hurts her more than me don’t fuck it up, his thoughts ran wild.

As the discomfort subsided, she initiated a gentle rotation of her hips, an act that symbolized her gradual acceptance of him, and only him. Sensing the opportune moment, he withdrew and reentered with an intensified force, evoking harmonized moans from both of them. Sustaining his vigorous rhythm, he maintained a powerful and relentless pace, delving as deeply as the confines of her tightness would allow. Every thrust conveyed an unspoken connection, a tangible presence of his entirety within her. She feels so fucking warm, fuck, her pussy is squeezing me so tight my dick might fall off. Her velvety walls feel like heaven, He thought. He moans loudly in Y/N ear, making her even more wetter.

In that intimate moment, she experienced the sensation of his pulsating presence brushing against her moist core, moving with urgency and intensity. Her impassioned cries resonated loudly, resembling almost a scream, matched by his deep groans and primal responses to the symphony of her pleasure. The connection they shared overwhelmed them, a profound sense of affection enveloping them both.

So good this feels even better than the other. “Awh- oh fucking hell- sev.” She uttered out breathlessly.

“My sweet girl, your pussy feels so good it makes me want to stay inside you forever. You’re squeezing me so tight I can tell you’re close to my little love bug. Release for me, angel.” He moaned out, he thrusted into her deeper with each word.

He accelerated his rhythm, pushing himself to the limits, relentlessly thrusting into her with an intensity that made both them and the bed quiver. The sensation of her enveloping him so snugly heightened his pleasure, and although this was unfamiliar territory for him, the connection between them felt instinctive and seamless. Even Lily paled in comparison to the depth of emotion he shared with Y/N, rendering those memories insignificant in comparison. Lily was nothing compared to Y/N, he thought.

“I love you, S-Sev! I love you so much!” She moaned breathlessly in his ear.

“I love you too, my little darling.” He responded, thrusting faster into her pussy. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she moans.

They both experienced a blazing sensation of pleasure, as if their insides were ablaze. He intensified his movements, going deeper and more vigorously, causing their moans to become louder and more intense. He was aware that their sounds probably echoed throughout the entire castle, but he paid no attention. He quickened the rhythm of his thrusts, feeling the ebb and flow of his body against hers, ensuring his movements hit just the right spot. His abdomen was rubbing against her swollen clit. Despite any discomfort, she was resolute in her desire for this connection, wanting to be with him in this way indefinitely.

He entered her with a newfound intensity, thrusting deeper and quicker than before. It was as though his body was moving beyond his control, like the effects of the Imperius Curse. His desire for more was insatiable—he craved a union so passionate that they would be left exquisitely sensitive and spent. His wish was to continue until both were thoroughly exhausted from their shared climax. He longed for his essence to spill into her, finding its way to her womb, leading to the possibility of her carrying his child and her abdomen swelling with the promise of new life.

“Feels so good. Can’t stop. Can’t st-“ He caught his breath, a gasp lodged in his throat, and nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck, gently nipping it as a deep, guttural groan escaped him. His hips moved erratically as he released thick ribbons of his cum into her, and in response, Y/N climaxed as well, coaxing every last drop from him. Her pussy embrace held him so snugly that his movements were almost restrained.

He eased his full weight onto her as they both took a moment to catch their breath after their passionate encounter. A serene relaxation enveloped them, making the idea of moving seem undesirable to both. However, Severus recognized the necessity of tending to their cleanliness and preparing for sleep. He began to shift and rise, only for Y/N to emit a plaintive whimper, her grip on him tight.

“Where are you going?” She quipped.

“I’m just going to get a rag to clean us up, my lovely girl.” She nodded letting him go.

He swiftly rose and retrieved a damp cloth, using it to gently cleanse her pussy. She winced as he touched her oversensitive and swollen clit. "I know, my love. You're alright," he reassured her. He then flipped the cloth to its other side, cleaning his softened cock before discarding the cloth onto the floor. Once he finished, he returned to bed to join her.

He drew her near, her head finding a comfortable spot on his chest. As she began to drift into slumber, the sound of his heartbeat echoed in her ears. He tucked them both under a blanket, whispering, "Sweet dreams, my love." He muttered. With a sense of profound relaxation, he too succumbed to sleep, feeling a tranquility he had never experienced before.

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fluffysucker · 9 months

Text

Long story short

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Mob Au)

'Long story short, it was a bad time. Long story short, I survived.'

A/N: It is written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated

TW: Mentions of miscarriages. Very brief mention of unconsensual sex. If I missed anything, please tell me There is a simple discussion about the reader's money if you don't agree with the reader's/ my opinion. Please share yours

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You were trying your hardest. Gathering all your strength. Pulling all your power. The adrenaline was long gone. All you were left with was anxiety and panic. And it was taking everything in you to not let it take over. Let you crawl in bed and sink into the worst possible what-ifs.

So you kept all your senses on Natasha. It's helpful when all your focus is on her. Being in Bucky's circle of the very few close people he counted as family, you used to call Natasha your friend as well. Just like her husband, Steve, and Sam, she welcomed you with open arms. She was excited to meet you. Once Bucky was no longer hiding your relationship, he didn't stop talking about you. He was head over heels for you. The most in love he was ever in. The most in love he will ever be. So Natasha was the one pushing for the meeting. When it did happen, it went better than you ever thought.

While Natasha trusted Bucky's judgement, she wanted to see for herself. She wanted to be sure that the relationship wasn't one-sided. Natasha was fiercely protective of her chosen family, and you weren't going to be an exception.

But one look at you, and she was assured. You loved Bucky just as much as he did. And for her, that made you family. She didn't care about your bloodline or the doors of hell that your love would open. All she cared about were the big smile on Bucky's face whenever he talked about you and the big heart eyes you had when looking at Bucky. And that made a nice friendship blossom between the two of you.

But just like everything good that was in your life, it was ripped away from you once Rumlow entered your life. You couldn't keep her friendship after breaking Bucky's heart. But yours was just as broken. Despite not voicing it, Natasha understood why you did what you did. She had sympathy for you. She couldn't imagine having to leave her lover for another man she barely knew. But you did. And you suffered immeasurably.

So when Bucky asked her to be here today to look after you if things went south, she didn't hesitate. She didn't need Bucky to ask; after she saw you that day in Bucky's office, she knew she would do everything she could to keep you safe. Not just her. Along with Steve and Sam, the three of them had no problem risking it all for you. Not only because you meant the most to Bucky but also because you deserve so much better than you have.

Natasha has been a great help in distracting you from the clutter happening downstairs. Once you got to the room, before you could break down, Natasha had already started talking. You were catching up. Mostly from her side. You didn't have that much to share.

Inevitably, you started talking about her and Steve's daughter. And just like this, you were looking at adorable baby pictures and happy family moments while listening to cute stories. And that put a true smile on your face.

One would think after three miscarriages you would be envious or hateful, but you weren't. Not in the slightest. Not just with Natasha, but you were always happy to hear mothers talk about their children. Their excitement was always endearing. You were aware of how different your situation was.

Because every time, you could never help the dread filling you, sitting on the bathroom floor with the positive pregnancy test in hand and tears running down your cheeks. Or the tiny relief in your heart when the doctor would tell you that you lost the baby. It was still a painful thing to go through, but you felt a bit of ease. And for that, guilt found a home in your heart.

Lots of women prayed for this. Lots of women put money, time, and effort into having it. But there you were. You always tried to be careful and take procession, but it would still happen. And that only intensified your guilt.

Even though you wanted to be a mother for as long as you could remember, you couldn't fathom the idea of bringing a child into this world. Your world. To see your baby go through everything you were going through, after you had sworn that your kids would never see what you had seen, would have been the end of you. To be unable to protect your baby would have killed you. You would be bringing a baby that you weren't sure anybody wanted. A baby that Rumlow forced into you. A baby who would grow up in a broken family. You were barely getting by, and you were smart enough to know having a kid wouldn't change Rumlow. It would make him worse. And to bring a child into life only to suffer like you, you couldn't think of anything more selfish.

So whenever Rumlow made you lose a baby, you didn't feel as bad as you should have. It only meant you had to sit through an hour or two of Rumlow and your father blaming you for failing to do your woman's duties. As if Rumlow's anger issues weren't what led you to the hospital bed, bleeding for the upcoming weeks, Exactly why you didn't want to add a child to this dilemma

You kept chatting with Natasha. The bedrooms' floor was far from Bucky's office. So you couldn't hear anything. And somehow, that was both reliving and worrying at the same time. Natasha was sure Bucky had everything under control, so she was talking about cheerful stuff, trying to ease your mind off things. And it was working.

Your chat stopped quickly when you heard the doorknob move. Both of getting into fight mood. Instantly, a breath you didn't know you were holding left you as Bucky entered the room.

"Ever heard of something called knocking, James?" Natasha tried to break the ice, as she could feel the tension and stiffness coming from your body next to her.

"Sorry if I don't knock in my own house. How rude of me." Bucky joked back, getting Natasha's hint. also a way of confirming that things went well.

"Love when you're self-aware." Natasha said as she stood up, knowing it was time for her to leave.

"Now, excuse me, I believe my husband can't live without me any longer." That pulled a small laugh from you as Natasha turned you.

"I will see you around, sweetie." Natasha told you as she went to leave, not waiting for a reply. It was like she knew you would. Will you see her around?

Natasha passed Bucky, giving him the encouragement smile she knew he needed. Then she left. Silence filled the room. Only the sound of your breathing. Bucky was the first to break it.

"It's all done." It was a simple statement. So simple, but you needed to hear it. He had to say it.

"It's all taken care of. You don't have to ever think about them again. They won't hurt you anymore. You're safe now."

There was no way Brock Rumlow and Alexander Pierce were getting out of the warehouse he was keeping them in. They were as good as dead. They had no men to fight for them. They sold them for the right price, Bucky's protection, and the promise to work with Bucky in the future. In addition, Bucky was going to take his sweet time with them. The slowest, most torturous death ever. So yes, you were safe.

You wanted to cry. Happy tears for the first time in your life. Tears of relief. A burden that had been keeping you tied down for so long was finally gone. You were free.

"I don't know how to thank you." It was sincere. You can never thank him enough. He did so much for you.

"You don't have to." He would have done more to ensure you got out of this life. Way more if it was required.

"Everything will be back in your name tomorrow." It was your money. Your empire now. You get to decide what you want to do next. And Bucky wasn't going to take that away from you.

But you didn't want it. It felt tinted. It felt haunted. It was coated in your blood and tears. And you didn't know if you would ever be comfortable using it. However, having the conversation with Bucky again to keep it all because he would know what to do with it better was going to be pointless. So you didn't say anything.

Silence sat between the both of you again. Neither of you knows what to say. So much to be said. So much hanging in the air. But how can you approach it?

"Now, you can leave if you want." It was so difficult to say. However, Bucky knew he had to give you a choice. Maybe you wanted to end this chapter in your life. Walk away and never look back. Cut ties with everything that might remind you of the battles you fought. It would hurt him immensely, but he would understand and support you.

"Do you want me to?" Your voice was above a whisper. You were the one always offering to leave, and he would turn it down. But there was too much at risk then. Now, there wasn't. Maybe your desperate need for him made you read too much into things. Your blind love for him made you wish for things. And maybe you weren't on the same page.

But if you left, where would you go? You had no place to go. You had no family, and Rumlow made sure you lost the small number of friends you had. Other than Bucky, you had no one. So if you left, you would be alone. And that scared you. But also, you were too big of a problem to burden Bucky more. However, you couldn't help the question from slipping past your lips.

"Never." Bucky's answer was immediate. He signed as he moved to sit next to you on the bed, holding your hand between his. His touch was comforting as always.

"I never want you to leave, doll. Not again." Even the thought of you leaving was too cruel.

"I should have stopped you the first time. I should have fought for you. I should have stood in everyone's face."

"Everything that happened to you was because of me."

Guilt filled every fibre of Bucky's being. He should have burned the world down for you. Instead, he handed you to the wolves. You were about to tell him that wasn't true. That there was no stopping you. That you thought you were doing the right thing for the both of you. But he didn't let you.

"I chose the easy way out. I gave up too quickly. And you paid for it."

Nothing you could say would make Bucky see things differently. Every time he saw the scars on your body, he was reminded of the coward he was. It hurt Bucky to think how the only time in his life he wasn't brave enough was for you. Because who doesn't fight for his love? Bucky would give everything for you to forgive him.

"If you give me a chance, I will live the rest of my life making it up for you. I will show you my love. I will make you my world. My everything. My life. My girl"

Every word that left Bucky's mouth was genuine. He meant it. You were the thing Bucky lived for.

"Bucky." And you felt his sincerity. And it brought you to tears because you couldn't be what he wanted you to be.

"I'm too broken."

A part of you was ashamed to say it out loud, but it was true. But what you had gone through broke too many things in you. After finally being free, you saw how damaged you were.

"No, doll, you aren't. And you will never be." It was painful to hear you talk about yourself so negatively.

"But I'm. I'm not the person you fell in love with. I'm barely the shell of her. You don't want this."

Nobody would want this. Nobody deserved to be with this. You couldn't repay Bucky's kindness by throwing more on his plate. And you were sure he wouldn't want you anymore.

"There isn't a version of you that I don't want. There isn't a time when I'm not hopelessly out of my mind in love with you. I need you just as much as I need the air to live. I'm in pieces without you. I was a dead man before and without you. You are my revival."

"We will take it as slow as you want. Everything will be at your pace. And I will be by your side at every step of the way. Every bump. Every hardship. I will be here. I will hold your hand through it all."

If you thought what you went through was going to drive Bucky away, you were wrong. It only made Bucky admire you more. You were a fighter. A survivor. And it's time you rest. It's time for him to take care of you. And he would do it gladly.

With your current emotional and mental struggles, hearing Bucky announce his profound love for you and his willingness to be your rock and support made you break down into sobs.

"Doll, what's wrong?" Bucky got worried as your sobs got louder. Did he say something wrong? He would take it back right away.

"I don't deserve you." You blurted it out between your sobs. Today's emotions are finally catching up to you. Everything he did and was willing to do for you

"You deserve better. But if you give me the chance, I will live my whole life cherishing it." Bucky would worship the ground you are walking on if you became his again.

"I never loved someone so much before. You are the only one I have. The only one I have ever had." You wrapped your hand around his neck, wanting to hide in him. And he pulled you closer to him. You laid a small kiss on his neck as a sign that you wanted this too. You wanted to have him be yours again. You wanted the good in life. And Bucky was the best. Bucky took your sign and couldn't help but smile. He had you back.

You stayed like this for a bit, ravishing in the moment. His hands were rubbing your back softly.

"Maybe we should take that trip to Thailand." Bucky said as he felt you move away.

"I still have the flight tickets." A genuine laugh left you that warmed Bucky's heart, making his eyes shine.

"I think we are a couple of years late for this plane." Your hands stayed in Bucky's, refusing to sit without his touch on you somehow.

"Nonsense. We can still make it." With his other hand, Bucky wiped away the remaining tears on your face.

"If you say, though." Talking about the trip you were planning right before everything went bad was heartwarming. Like you would be able to pick up from where you left.

"But I need to go shopping first."

"First thing in the morning. All my cards are yours. Then we can go to the airport." Starting from this moment on, Bucky was going to get back to his favourite hobby in the world. Spoiling you. And god, was he about to spoil you like there was no tomorrow.

You knew he wasn't joking. Bucky was going to go above and beyond for you. His eyes showed his determination. And it felt marvelous to know that in this cruel world, there was someone who wanted you so much. And that someone was Bucky Barnes. You were lucky.

Unable to resist the urge, you went back to hiding into his neck, loving the way you fitted against him. So perfectly. Like he was made to hold you. You wanted to stay like this forever. Safe and secure in his arms. Wanted and desired in his eyes. Loved and cherished in his heart. You wanted the things only Bucky could give you. You wanted Bucky.

"Please, don't leave me."

"Never, doll. I'm not going anywhere."

You knew you were going to be okay. You were going to be fine. You were in the clear. You were out of the woods.

Taglist: @ozwriterchick @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @kandis-mom @dexter99

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lomlhwa · 1 year

Text

only your scars (c.bg)

pairing: fiancé!beomgyu x fiancée!reader

preview: beomgyu struggled with self harm for a long time. all of that changed when he met you. he hasn't cut in ages. but now that you want to be intimate, he has to confess about his past.

warnings/tags: fem reader, mentions of self harm, mentions of scars on thighs and wrists, WOLFCUT GYU, scar kissing, praise, lipstick marks, mutual pining, pet names (my love, mommy, momma, my beomie), subby beomgyu oml, so much kissing, hand holding, crying (kinda the sexy kind, kinda not), riding yay, lots of ass grabbing, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: there's only one brief description of active cutting and that's it. the scars are an active mention though.

wc: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: o sole mio by sf9, blame me by monsta x, she's the one by monsta x, fairy of shampoo by txt

a/n: i didn't plan this but i'm dedicating this to @toxicccred because she's so sweet and i think she deserves some comfort (before anyone attacks me, i struggled with cutting.)

beomgyu has never loved anyone more than he loves you. his love for you is immeasurable. you keep him grounded and make him feel safe just by being in the same room as him. you remind him why he’s still fighting for himself. fighting to keep going.

honestly, beomgyu used to cut himself. wrists, thighs, pretty much any open expanse of skin that he could cover up with clothes and/or jewelry. as much as he hated the sight of blood, and the way the scars changed his skin, he did it all the time. he was ashamed of his coping mechanism but honestly, it worked.

he slowly accumulated a plethora of scars over the years. some faded, some still bright red. whenever there were just too many healed ones, he’d feel the compulsion to make new ones.

but all of that overwhelming negativity came to an abrupt halt the day you confessed to him. the day you told him how your heart decided to perceive him. tears filled his eyes and his lip quivered as you spoke to him.

“i like you, choi beomgyu,” you said. a smile spread across your beautiful face and he could tell that you meant it. you looked deep into his soul that day and found something in him to fall in love with.

“i like you too, y/n y/l/n,” he had responded. you almost didn’t hear him when he told you he reciprocated. his voice was so shaky and he had spoken quietly to try and keep his voice steadier.

once you knew it was mutual, you spent every waking moment together. you went on every date imaginable with beomgyu. you went to dinner, on walks in the park, took vacations together and even just had movie nights at one of your houses.

eventually, beomgyu had enough of having to leave his house to see you. so, the next time you met up, he popped the question. “will you move in with me?”

of course you said yes. the feeling of not wanting to be apart had always been mutual. you hated leaving him alone in his house. you always worried about him. you wanted to constantly check up on him and make sure he was okay.

you didn't know why you worried so much though. at this time, you didn't know about his past cutting habits. he kept that a secret from you in fear that you would find him disgusting or end up dating him just because you pitied him. you had yet to be intimate therefore his secret was kept pretty well.

one time, you almost caught a glimpse of some of his scars. you came home early, unannounced. he wasn't expecting you for at least 2 more hours. but here you were. thank god you called out for him before entering the room. he hadn't been wearing a sweater over his tank top, leaving raised scars exposed. he threw on a hoodie just before you opened your shared bedroom door. he was sure you'd caught a glimpse of his wrist based on your widened eyes. but, to his relief, your eyes were widened because his fast movements had scared you.

after that close call, he made sure to always be wearing enough clothes to hide the scars, even if you weren't home. he didn't know when or if he'd ever be ready to admit his shortcoming to you. he wanted to, but it just felt like your opinion of him would change.

now, 3 years after being together, he popped the real question. the one that he almost thought would turn you away. but, yet again, you proved him wrong.

“will you marry me, y/n?”

with tears filling your eyes, gasps coming from your mouth, you agreed. “oh my god, of course i’ll marry you!” you pressed your lips to his and you swallowed all his sobs. you said yes to marrying him despite the flaws that he still has hidden.

okay, fast forward to now.

you’ve finally confided in him that you want to have sex. you’ve been together for long enough that you feel it’s time. you’ve expressed your concern about why he hasn’t asked you to be intimate earlier.

so, here he is, panicking while waiting for you to get home from work. today is your agreed day to finally sleep together. he’s been counting the seconds ever since the clock hit 6:00pm. you’re due home any moment.

beomgyu has gone through every possible reaction you could have to his skin. disgust, sadness, pity, anger, anything. he doesn’t know if he’s ready for any of your reactions. he doesn't know if he’s ready for any of today’s events.

his panic is interrupted by the jingling of your keys outside the front door. he debates running out the back door and hiding from you. but, it’s too late. you’re here and it’s time.

“hi, my beomie,” you say, your voice sweet and soft. he looks at you with a twinge of fear in his eyes. you place your bag down on the bench by the door and slide your shoes off. you walk over to him and sit next to him on the couch. you take one of his hands into both of yours.

“are you ready?” you ask. you lift his chin with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. his lip quivers and yet he nods his head. he wants this.

“i need to tell you- well show you something first,” he says. he gets up from the couch and pulls you to your shared bedroom. he ushers you to sit down on the foot of the bed. the look in your eyes tells a story of confusion and concern.

he takes a shallow breath before hooking his fingers on the hem of his shirt. “no, wait, gyu, you don’t have to strip yet,” you explain. he shakes his head. he needs to do this and now. before you decide you want to strip him yourself.

he closes his eyes and lifts his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor. he shimmies out of his pants as well, adding them to the small pile of clothes. he keeps his eyes closed as he waits for a sound to come out of you.

when nothing happens, he opens his eyes slowly. he makes eye contact with you and his heart immediately breaks. your eyes are watery, tears already staining your flush cheeks. he already regrets stripping.

“y/n, i-,” you wave him off. you wipe your face and get off the bed. you take his face into your hands and smile softly, wiping his tears with your thumbs. “you’re still beautiful, my love,” you press your lips to his a couple times. you look at him in the eyes as more tears fall.

“please, lay on our bed,” you move out of the way for him to get on. he settles, leaning against the headboard. you sit on his right side, on your knees. you take his right arm into your hand and run your fingers over his scars.

you raise his wrist to your mouth and place a kiss on one of the scars. you scan his face for a reaction but you don’t think he’s registered it yet. so, you kiss another one. and another one. until you’ve trailed all the way up his arm.

you look up at him again and he’s fully blown sobbing. his other hand is covering his mouth as quiet sobs take him over. you continue your process despite his crying.

you lean down and kiss the scars that litter his right thigh. you use your right hand to massage his other thigh. you press kisses to every scar that covers his skin. reddish lipstick marks remain on his pinkish scars.

by the time you’re done with his right side, he’s bordering on inconsolable. he’s making you start crying again. “beomie… are you still sure you want to sleep with me? we can wait for another time,” he shakes his head.

“i want this,” he wipes his face and takes a deep breath. he grabs you by the back of the head and brings your face to his. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to straddle him. his hands rest on your clothed ass, massaging it.

he tugs at your shirt before disconnecting from your lips for a moment to get it off fully. he traces your hip bones lightly as he kisses you deeper. you grind down on him subconsciously, earning you a soft moan against your mouth.

“my beautiful beomie,” you say as you pull away. you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “can i ride you, my love?” you ask him so tenderly that it almost throws him off. he shakes his head yes. you smile softly and mumble ‘okay.’

you get off of him and pull your pants off. you tug your panties off to follow your pants. your only remaining clothing item is your bra. you crawl onto the bed and hook your fingers on the waistband on beomgyu’s boxers. he nods at you and lifts his hips.

as soon as his boxers are off, he tries to hide himself with his hands. you remove them carefully and go back to straddling him. you reach down to align him with your entrance. you sink down slowly and beomgyu throws his head back.

“ffffuck momma,” he whines. you rest on him for a moment, getting used to his size. his legs shake slightly under you. he’s wanted this for so long and now that it’s happening, he’s full of every emotion in the book.

“i’m gonna move now, beomie,” you tell him. you lift yourself up and down slowly on his length so he gets used to the movements. he bites his lip, almost hard enough to break the skin. his eyes roll so far back into his head that he fears they might get stuck.

you bring his left wrist to your mouth and place kisses on it like you did with his other one. you tongue at the raised marks, the lipstick covering his arm. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you finally ask. through shaky breaths, he tries to compose his thoughts.

“i t-thought you’d leave me,” he confesses. “i thought y-you’d find me repulsive,” his voice is weepy and it breaks your heart. you kiss the tears that leave his eyes as you pick up the pace. his hands find your ass again, this time being able to knead the exposed skin.

"i would never," you say, a hint of shock painting your face. how could he think so lowly of you? why would you leave him for something that was entirely a result of him coping? he deserved to be comforted.

"i love you, mommy," he says, his hands gripping your ass tighter as his high creeps up on him. he lifts his back off the headboard to kiss you softly. he plants kisses all over your face and neck.

"i love you too, my beomie," you gasp and whine as he ignites the fire in your core. "please, cum for me, momma," he begs. you nod as he takes over your movements, snapping his hips up to meet yours.

your eyes roll back and your high crashes into you. your hips stutter as beomgyu continues thrusting to meet his high. you whine from overstimulation as he snaps his hips one more time before spilling into you.

you collapse onto him, nuzzling your nose into his neck. you peck his sweaty skin lightly before moving to get off. "no, not yet, wanna stay inside you," he pouts. you could never say no to him. you get comfortable cockwarming him.

"you can stop dressing like it's winter all year round now," you giggle. he shrugs. he's not comfortable in his scars yet, but he's sure he'll get there.

he loves you more than anything.

#lomlhwa #txt #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu smut

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

masterlist | the music

8.4k words | This series is NSFW 18+ only

Star-crossed lovers, two hearts becoming one, invisible strings, love at first sight - soul mates. You’ve never bought into any of it. Love - real love is hard work and if you were lucky enough to find someone who’s willing to put in that work, it doesn’t mean you or your love are immune to life’s misfortunes.

The movies, the songs, the world, it has made you a little pessimistic. Who are they to tell you to believe in any of that unreliable and unmeasurable crap? Love will not be the thing that defines you when it only leads to heartbreak. Let the suckers fall for that. Opening your heart only makes it a target, a bullseye for shooting practice.

Don’t get it twisted though, you aren’t a total cynic. Love can be beautiful. It’s a powerful emotion and heavy word not to be thrown around casually. Sunsets, a song, your friends - your family, that kind of love is easier than breathing. That kind of love brings you immeasurable joy.

Being in love? Pigs would have to fly before you’d let yourself feel that.

And while you didn’t believe in all the mushy soulmate stuff, you aren’t totally against thoughts of fate, destiny, divine intervention, or some higher power out there. In fact, you are fairly certain somewhere in the universe a plan fell into action on the day you met Robin Buckley. It could have been a scene from a movie - a best friend meet-cute. All that was missing was a poppy soundtrack playing in the background.

It was your first week in the city and you already hated every second of your new job. Errands, scheduling, and those goddamn coffee orders that didn’t seem to end for your new boss. Your phone shrieked as you tried to balance a tray of said coffee with the dry cleaning, manuscripts, and a fucking pool noodle - you were living the plot of The Devil Wears Prada.

After putting out the fire on the other end of the line, you luckily noticed the wrong order written on one of the coffee lids. Rushing back into the Starbucks, you were ready to take out your bad day on the poor, unsuspecting barista, when a honey haired girl carrying a tray reached the counter at the same time as you.

She was breathless, blue eyes sparkling as she pointed to the trays in both of your hands, “That could have been really bad for me. Joe would kick my sad little butt out with the pathetic box of my desk belongings if I got the coffee wrong again.”

Crisis averted all around, you sighed with relief and you were pretty sure the barista did too. It turned out you and Robin were heading in the same direction, office buildings across the street from one another but never seeing the other till now. You exchanged job horror stories, numbers, and kicked your heels off at a bar over beers that same night. You have to give the universe kudos, it got it right the day it gave you Robin.

“I’m telling you, best sex I’ve ever had,” flopping onto your bed, body prickling with heat at the thought of the previous night’s events as the bed springs bounce beneath you.

Robin trips over a heel as she emerges from your closet. Rolling to the side, you scrunch your nose at the frilly baby blue top she's holding up. She sees your look and sighs, throwing it in the no pile.

Swapping places, you rummage in your closet for the top you knew would be perfect as she bites at the skin on her thumb before responding in an overtly girly and mocking voice, “Tell me more, tell me more, like did he have a car?”

The buzzing from your phone interrupts your laughter and you try to keep your attention on her instead of the lit up screen, “Just because you don’t like penis’ doesn’t mean you need to poke fun,” you clear your throat and glance at the phone again, “Could you check that? It might be him.”

Robin sighs like you told her to walk ten miles and picks up the buzzing phone, a smirk on her lips before she glances up at you, “Rocketman? Really?”

Giggling as you press your palm to your heated cheek and pretend to faint against the doorframe, “Robin, I swear to you, I went to the fucking moon when I came.”

She rolls her eyes and you pull your lip between your teeth. This one night stand has you completely flustered, you don’t want to gross her out with all the details but you can’t help wanting to share.

Not meeting her eye, you let your fingers trail over the necklaces on your vanity, and shake your head when she tries to hold the phone out, turning your back to her, “I can’t look at it. Read it for me?”

Robin scoffs, “What do you mean you can’t look at it? Yes you can,” turning back towards her, she catches the shirt you toss.

“I can’t Robin,” you blow out your breath, “What if he’s texting me to tell me he has an STD? What if he’s going to tell me he’s married? Oh my god,” squeezing your eyes shut, “What if he wants to date me?”

Peeking your eyes open when she doesn’t answer, you find her staring at you cooly, her head tilted to the side. She clicks her tongue, “There are so many things wrong with the order of those questions, you know that right? You have serious commitment issues dude,” she shakes her head at you, “What is it with you and love?”

Waving your hands in front of you like you can make that question disappear, you sigh, “A story for another time. Please? Will you look?” you stick your lips out in a pout and bat big puppy dog eyes at her, “Rip the band-aid off for me?”

This is the worst part of dating. The texting, the calling - hooking up again after the first time. It’s the line between it all going horribly wrong or wonderfully right. A balance beam that boys are usually too careless to realize they’re on.

This is the pivotal moment. The text a guy sends that lets you know he isn't just going to call at 2am on a lonely Friday night, he’s going to take you out on a proper date during the week. The message that tells you that all the bullshit most spew about dreams and futures and wanting to settle down if they met the right girl is actually true. And they hope the right girl is you.

The problem is that you are one of those girls who hopes for the exact opposite of those types of messages. You want no commitments, and no strings - just a good and quality hook up. However, that seems to leave you with the nasty guys - the assholes. The ones that have a long list of girls on their phones, scrolling through them at 2am and sending a “You up?” text and then on to the next one. And while you wanted sex, you want something a little better than a booty call from time to time.

There are the rare ones of course. The ones full of charisma and charm, that make you practically rip off your pants but are more than happy to not let emotions get in the way of sex. Your hopes weren’t just high that Rocketman was one of these types of guys, they are through the stratosphere. This man can take you to another planet and show you the stars during sex but your fingers and toes are crossed hoping he won’t hide you in a crater until he needs you at 3am or is expecting you to plant a flag and claim him as yours after only one night.

Please let Rocketman be the happy medium you desperately need, you pray to whoever is out there. Not ready for disappointment, you conclude that you might as well have Robin be the one to tell you the good or bad news - don’t shoot the messenger and all that.

Robin sighs dramatically at your pleading face. Holding your breath, you clutch the gold necklace in your sweaty fingers. The click of the phone unlocking and Robin’s fingers pressing in your password sounds like explosions in your ears. She begins to read the message out loud:

Your eyes widen as pink blossoms on her cheeks. She clears her throat, “Um…” she holds it out to you, squeezing her eyes closed, “I’m very gay, but uh…”

Grabbing the phone, you bite the inside of your lip at the image that pops up under the text.

Toned muscles beneath tan, sun kissed skin, a few freckles that make your toes curl thinking about how you touched them with your own lips less than 24 hours ago. A small line of dark hair pulls your eyes from his chest to the gray band of his sweats that does nothing to conceal the very obvious erection beneath.

You try to keep your face neutral, but Robin groans and throws a pillow at you as she pretends to gag, “Oh my god! You’re disgusting! That shit works on you?!”

Being so turned on by a photo and text like that should make you feel bad - it was wrong. But your thighs press together as your underwear becomes wet, your skin flushing hot just thinking about it again. If being turned on by that is wrong, you don’t want to be right.

Glancing at it once more, you pull your lip in and nod, “Yeah. Yeah, that shit works on me.”

She scrunches up her face, groaning like you just ate a worm in front of her and you point at her, ready to call her out on her own blush as you try not to yell, “Hey! You even-”

She covers her ears and closes her eyes, “Nope. Nope. I didn’t. I was admiring his…boldness.”

"Boldness? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" you laugh.

Clicking the phone off, you toss it to the bed, deciding to let him sweat it out for a while until you’re ready to test what kind of guy he is. Robin grimaces at the phone and pushes it away from her with a socked foot until it’s teetering on the edge of your bed.

Your eyes roll at her dramatics, “Seriously Robin, it was a clothed penis. You’re-”

She gasps and holds her throat like she tastes something absolutely disgusting, “Please, for the love of god, do not tell me the dick pics without sweats work on you.”

You shrug, “I mean, I’ve never received one that’s made me leap for joy if that’s what you’re trying to get at,” you hold out the necklace and a pair of boots to her, “But, enough about my sex life. Time to get you laid too, babe.”

She rolls onto her stomach, pressing her face into the mattress. Tossing the accessories next to the shirt, you give her butt two little pats and she huffs into the bed as you ask, “What time are you meeting again?”

“Seven,” she mumbles into your pillow and repeatedly hits her head against the mattress. You’ve only known each other for two weeks and from what you’ve gathered, Robin is not doing well in the lady department, striking out on terrible date after terrible date.

“Come on, I thought you were excited? You said someone from school you haven’t seen in years right?” you poke her side and she squirms away from you. Your fingers softly brush back the hair covering the side of her face, “So there's no pressure. You already know her. You’re gonna go and have fun and we’re gonna go get mimosas for brunch tomorrow and you’ll tell me all about it,” you wiggle your eyebrows up and down.

She sits up and presses her palms to her heated cheeks, closing her eyes as she breathes deeply, “Right. Right. And Dingus is taking me out to dinner, getting the nerves out. Plus he dated her, so like a mega wingman. I can do this.”

Grabbing her hand, you pull her up as you agree, “You can do this.”

With wide eyes, she clutches your arms tighter and shakes her head, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“One step at a time,” you push her towards the bathroom, “Change your outfit. You can do that right?”

Chewing her bottom lip and narrowing her owlish eyes, she points at you, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” you raise your eyebrows with a smug smile on your face.

She rolls her eyes and your laughter is cut off by the bathroom door closing in your face.

An hour later you’re shuffling her out your door, “Call me if you need an extraction. Or someone to talk you down.”

Robin doesn’t seem to be hearing you anymore, tugging on her fingers, spinning one of her rings.

“Just dinner right now,” you grab her hands to stop her ceaseless fidgeting, “One step at a time.”

She nods and starts down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “Benny’s? 10?”

“I expect a full report!” you reply with a sing song lilt to your voice.

She turns to face you, taking her last several steps backwards, arms crossing over her chest with pointer and middle finger crossed on each hand and you mirror the gesture - your new good luck wish to each other after a drunk ‘The Parent Trap’ re-watch a few nights ago. She nods once before blowing you a kiss that you cheekily catch as she spins and heads into the stairwell.

With the door shut tightly behind you, your lips twist into a smirk as you remember the phone sitting on the counter. Maybe Robin won’t be the only one getting lucky tonight.

After changing into comfier sweats, pouring yourself a glass of wine and putting on the latest action comedy Netflix is recommending, you pick up your phone again, hopeful and ready to find out what kind of modern man Rocketman was.

Glancing at the picture he had sent you again, taking in a little bit more of the details you had only skimmed earlier, you bite your lip as you respond.

Laughing at your cleverness, you click your phone locked and try to focus on the plot playing out in front of you while sipping your wine aimlessly, pretending not to be counting every second until your phone buzzes with his reply. This is the part that’s nerve wracking and risky in any relationship, but it’s still fun. For you, it’s the excitement of finding out if this would become the no strings attached, no broken hearts, and just a lot of (if you were lucky) really great sex. If you were really lucky, the guy on the other end could also carry a conversation and is decent to be around too. Your suspicions that Rocketman is both types of men confirmed as he responds quicker than you expect for a Saturday night.

Halfway through your glass of wine, you walk into your kitchen to top it off as you read his quick reply again.

A grin tugs at your lips as you sink back into your couch, knowing he was clearly fishing for a compliment on the actual focus of his earlier pic.

The dots appear and disappear and you start to sweat a little bit at the thought of your witty back and forth suddenly ending. When the dots appear again, you hold your breath till the phone buzzes.

Honey.

Snuggling further into the couch, your breath catches in your chest as you let yourself daydream a little of what could be with a boy who called you honey. It was just that though, a fantasy, and you know that in the long run it will end in heartbreak for either or both of you. Debating your reply back, you sip your wine, staring at the messages on the screen. Continue the dive into your sarcastic banter or take it a little more seriously? You don’t want to give him the wrong idea…

The wine catches in your throat and you cough, grinning at his continuation of the joke knowing exactly how to top it.

As the phone buzzes before you can even reply, you stare at it feeling a little like the lovestruck idiots you swear you’ll never be.

Another buzz.

The next morning you awake slowly, stretching in your bed as the sun starts to float through the curtains, casting a golden glow over everything.

Robin never called you for an extraction, which hopefully means it went well last night. Starting to search through your closet, you look at the gray sweats on the end of your bed, hopeful to continue your conversation with Rocketman today, you slip them on.

Feeling a little like an easily excitable teen again, you giggle to yourself at the idea that forms in your head. Your fingers roll the waistband of your sweats until the lace hem of your underwear is revealed. Laying back on the bed, angling your body into the sun beam to re-create Rocketman’s picture but with a twist. Your matching red bralette on full display, hair falling around you as the sun bathes you in a soft, golden haze. You click the photo and send the message before you can chicken out.

You finish getting ready and make the now familiar walk to Benny’s, grinning when you see Robin already sitting on the patio. You race through the gate and slide into the seat across from her, “How’d it go? Tell me everything!”

Robin practically melts into her chair, chin falling into her palms as she leans onto the table and giggles, “It was great. It was normal. I was normal. Like,” she waves her hands around, blue eyes wide, “I mean I was still a babbling dork who puts her foot in her mouth, but I was me, and she still wanted to hang out again.”

Genuinely ecstatic for her - there was nothing like feeling seen in a relationship for who you really were, a fan of love or not, you grab her hands and squeeze, “That’s amazing! When are you seeing her again? Why don’t we have mimosas already to celebrate?”

She laughs, smiling wide enough to make her eyes squint as she points behind your shoulder, “Dingus offered to buy a pitcher, and hopefully getting lunch tomorrow with her.”

“Alright, I went with the bottomless. In your honor, ma’lady.”

Body freezing at the comment, you notice the large hands carrying a pitcher of mimosas in the corner of your eye. Your gaze travels up his arms as he slides into the seat between Robin and you. Sights finally landing on the familiar face you knew would be attached to the voice once you heard it.

No. No, this is not happening.

Robin laughs again, “Thank you, sir. Y/N, this is Dingus, also known as my knight in shining armor, also known as Steve” she gestures between the two of you as Steve’s eyes shoot up, the pair of you staring at each other with your mouths open.

Rocketman is Dingus. Dingus is Steve. Steve is Rocketman.

Oh, god.

Noticing the way he’s trying not to glance down at your body, you try not to think about what you sent him fifteen minutes ago. Or the conversation you had last night. Or the fact that you had mind blowing sex with him two days ago.

Waving her hand in front of his face, Robin stops her mimosa halfway to her lips, “Hey Steve, you OD over there?”

He smirks a little at her question and glances at her before clearing his throat and shaking his head, “No, uh, just surprised you two know each other.”

Robin looks between you and Steve and then gasps, her glass hitting the tabletop aggressively, some of the drink sloshing out as she leans in, hissing at you, “Steve is Rocketman?”

Steve’s lips twitch up into a smile as he glances at you, “Rocketman?”

“Robin,” you kick her shin under the table, voice threatening.

Robin gasps again and covers her eyes, “Oh, ew, I’m going to be sick.”

Steve rolls his eyes, reaching for a mimosa and tossing a raspberry in his mouth, “Robin, it’s not a big deal.”

Robin shakes her head, “Oh my god, oh my god, I saw his-” she smacks his shoulder, “You’re disgusting! You send shit like that to girls?”

Steve chokes on his mimosa, eyes widening at you, “You showed Robin that-”

“I didn’t know you’d sent that picture-”

Steve covers his face, hitting his forehead on the table, “Oh my god, oh my god-”

Robin leans forward, pointing at you, “You were the one texting him last night during dinner?! He was grinning like a total lovestruck-”

Steve kicks her this time, “Robin!”

Trying to take deep breaths out of your nose, you rub your temple, “This is ridiculous. How is this happening?” you start to drain your own mimosa, sitting back into your chair.

Robin places her ring clad fingers on the table, thumbs picking at her chipping blue polish and she sighs, “Okay. Here’s the deal. Unfortunately I now know all the details. And I know the two of you. I have to say,” she looks at you, and points at Steve, “He’s my best friend and the greatest guy in the world, and if this is just sex and you’re gonna break his heart-”

Steve interrupts and groans, his head on the table still, “Robin, stop.”

The guilt eats away at your stomach already and you rub your temples as Robin kicks Steve’s shin, “And you, shitbird, she’s the first friend I’ve made besides you in years, and I don’t want to lose her either when you profess your love months too soon.”

Steve picks his head up and you both avoid each other’s glance and turn to Robin as she gestures inside, “I’m going to order all the waffles and hashbrowns this place has,” she gestures to the two of you, “Figure this out. Cause you’re both in my life and stuck with each other even if you end up hating the other in the end, and that’s non-negotiable.”

She stands from the table and you place your hands in your lap, glancing up at Steve with your lip between your teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose. When you both make eye contact, you snort a little and you both start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing his cheek and trying to hide his smile, “Good morning.”

Laughing again, you shake your head and lean forward, “Steve I-”

He sighs, “Listen. She’s right. I don’t wanna admit she’s right, because I had a lot of fun with you,” his hand rubs the back of his neck and he bites the inside of his cheek, “Like a lot. But, if we end up hurting each other, we end up hurting her, and I can’t do that.”

Nodding, you ignore the fluttering in your stomach the words cause, but you know he’s right. You’d only known Robin a few short weeks and already she was one of the greatest things to ever happen to you. You couldn’t risk losing her either, and you knew that you’d be the one left behind if anything happened, their connection and friendship too strong.

“Friends?” you hold out your hand.

He grips your hand, shaking it. Both of you stare at where you’re connected a little longer than you should perhaps, and you clear your throat, “Stop picturing me naked.”

He laughs and lets go and smirks over the rim of his glass and you roll your eyes. He stretches his arm back and ruffles his hair a bit, and you have to look away from where his t-shirt rises. He leans back in his chair as he drags out a, “Soooo,” the legs of the chair hitting the pavement again as he leans forward and cocks his eyebrow with a smirk twitching on his lips, “Rocketman?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you throw a napkin at him and he dodges it laughing.

Robin sits back down with a huff, “So, laughing. That’s a good sign. What’s the verdict?”

Steve and you look at each other and then at Robin and speak at the same time, “Friends.”

She grins and then Steve leans closer to her with pleading eyes and a fake pout of his lips, “Will you tell me what Rocketman means?”

Knowing full well that the puppy dog pout works on Robin, your eyes widen as her mouth opens. Leaning across the table, you slap your hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling up at you.

When you start to sit back down, finger pointing at her in a warning, you can’t help but notice Steve’s eyes trailing down the curves of your body and landing at the little bit of your midriff that became exposed where your shirt had risen.

Friends. You are just going to be friends. Friends who had out of this world sex with each other and knew what the other looked like naked and looked at each other like that - but friends.

Steve held up his fingers as he shot out ideas, “My penis is like a rocket? Length? Velocity? Gir-”

Robin slaps the side of his head, “Ew, gross don’t talk about your penis at breakfast.”

The two argue about what can and should be considered as appropriate breakfast talk. You hide your smile as Steve winks at you.

The next few weeks are interesting. You change his name to Steve in your phone - Rocketman no longer. Although he takes every opportunity he can to bring it up the few times you’ve seen each other since. Lunch with him a few times during the workdays with Robin, and you had only shared a few moments of lingering stares, a few accidental hand brushes that had made your stomach flip flop like a seesaw. And the more you learned about Steve, the harder it was becoming to not like him.

Especially with what surrounded you in the current “dating” scene. None of these guys were living up to “Rocketman” or Steve. Boring guys who couldn’t get a joke or make one to save their life, absolute skeeze-ball assholes, or guys who’d flounder around, never finding your clit, cum and then roll off of you and ask if you finished before promptly passing out or sneaking out - leaving you high and dry every time.

It had been three weeks since you’d had good sex. Three weeks since you’d orgasmed from someone other than your own fingers or vibrator. When Robin called and asked if you wanted to go out for drinks, you prayed to whatever gods were out there that they pretty please let you have some good prospects tonight.

Nursing a small pre-game drink, you call down your hallway to Robin, stepping past the piles of the four outfits she’d changed into and deemed not the one, “Robs, you looked hot in the first outfit, Nancy is going to love it! Put it back on and let’s go!”

Robin pokes her head out of the bathroom door, cocking her eyebrow at you, “Girl, you are cranky when you don’t have sex - you should talk to someone about-” she ducks at the dress you fling at her, smiling, “Are you sure it wasn’t too ‘come get some’?”

“Don’t you want her to come get some?” you lean against the wall and grin.

Robin opens her mouth and widens her eyes as a knock on your door lightly echoes through the apartment and you frown.

Robin shoos you away, closing the door and yelling through it, “Tell him I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

Rolling your eyes, knowing that statement was far from true, “Tell who you’ll be-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when you open your door to see Steve standing there. Dark denim jeans that fit him perfectly, a black shirt that was just a little too tight stretching across his chest, shoulders and biceps and a necklace chain peeking out at the collar. You’re pretty sure your gulp is audible as you try not to focus on the scruff on his jaw or the way his eyes seem to eagerly take in your body as well.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak out.

He smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Hey.”

Both of you stand there in an awkward silence until Steve blows out his breath, clearing his throat, “You look nice.”

Tugging the sleeves of your jean jacket over your wrists and glancing down at the black lace camisole type of top and black denim shorts you have on, “Thanks. You too.”

Robin comes crashing out of the bathroom and Steve’s eyes go up at her outfit, “Wow, Robs you look-”

She points a finger at him, frowning, “Don’t say a word.”

He clamps his mouth shut, eyes sparkling as she takes the drink from your hand and downs the rest of it before gesturing to head out the still open door.

Somehow you end up squeezed next to Steve in the back of the uber, your thighs pressing together and arms accidentally bumping. He keeps trying to shift away from you but Robin’s bouncing legs and constant fidgeting on his other side makes him lean into you more. The intoxicating scent of Steve’s cologne so close to you floods you with memories of your night together. Your need for sex like that again pulses throughout your body and you hold your breath for some sort of relief.

When you get out of the uber, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that doesn’t make your thighs clench together, you watch Robin start to jog down the sidewalk towards a brown curly haired girl waving. Watching her eyebrows go up, her cheeks flushing a little pink as she takes Robin in.

Steve sighs next to you and you look over at his small smile. Aware of a brief part of their history, and you’re sure this is a little awkward for him, you nudge him, “You good?”

He rubs the back of his neck and nods, “Just a little weird. But I’m really happy for both of them. They look happy right?”

Nancy spins Robin around to take in her outfit more and Robin blushes and shakes her head. Robin’s mouth hasn’t stopped moving since she got out of the car. Nancy takes both of her hands to still them, blinking at her with a smile, she says something that leads to Robin closing her mouth and nodding.

“Yeah, they do. They look good together,” you smile.

Steve nods, a small hum slipping out of his throat. As you get closer, Nancy’s eyes brighten and she smiles, “Steve!”

He gives a little wave, “Hey Nance, it’s good to see you,” he looks slightly surprised when she hugs him, but recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing lightly.

She takes a step back and smiles shyly, “You too. Really.”

She turns to you and sticks out her hand, “Nancy Wheeler.”

Accepting her hand, you introduce yourself. She points between you and Steve, “So how long have you two been together?”

Steve’s neck turns red as you fumble with your words, “Oh we’re not…well, we did have…um, but we aren’t…uh-”

Robin chimes in after biting her lip and holding in a laugh at your run on babble, a hand on Nancy’s shoulder, “They’re just friends.”

Both of you nod but Nancy eyes the two of you like she knows something you don’t and then levels Steve with a look that has him rolling his eyes. She smiles at you, “My mistake, I’m sorry.”

Robin pulls her towards the bar, “Come on, I’m dying to listen to some terrible karaoke and dance my butt off.”

Nancy laughs and you follow the pair inside, snaking your way through a crowd to a table with only standing room. When you point to the bar, Robin pushes Steve back towards the table and loops her arm with yours and turns you both towards the bar.

Robin leans in closer once you get to the bar, yelling over the volume, “I really like her and I think I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you shake your head, “I just watched the way she looked at you. She’s head over heels for you Robs. Promise.”

Her cheeks darken from their tiny blush to a deeper maroon as she grabs two of the drinks and you push her towards the table, “I’m right behind you, gonna…” you look around a little and raise your eyebrows, “Mingle.”

She salutes you with two of her fingers, holding a drink up to her forehead, “May the force be with you.”

You’re rolling your eyes and leaning onto the bar when you feel a hand on the small of your back. Turning, you find a guy with a beer in his hand, nodding towards the bar, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Glancing back at the table, Robin distributes drinks that the three old friends clink together. Smiling, you turn back to the boy in front of you and nod. Ready to settle in for a night of flirting that will probably lead to an end of the evening like every one you’d had lately - you alone with your trusty bullet.

After the first guy didn’t laugh at any of your jokes and the second one came in way too hot and heavy for so early in the evening, you make your way back to the table, chugging the last of your drink before flopping your head onto Robin's shoulder with a groan.

Robin pats your head sympathetically, and questions, "No luck?"

Grabbing a waitress as she’s walking by, "Can we get four tequila shots?" you turn to the other three, "What do you guys want?"

Steve smiles around his beer and Robin rolls her eyes and the waitress laughs.

Leaning your elbows on the table, you press your fingers to your temples "I mean, why is it that they're just god awful boring and can't keep a conversation but incredible at sex or they're funny and get your hopes up and they spend two hours trying to find your clit and pass out after cumming?" You shout the last part and Steve chokes on his beer, Nancy and Robin scrunch up their noses.

The waitress raises her eyebrows at you as she slides the shots onto the table and grins, "Sounds like I should keep those coming?"

"You have no idea," you mumble a thank you to her and look at the other three sheepishly, "Sorry, guess I'm a bit…wound up."

Robin snorts and Steve's lips move to the side like he’s biting his cheek. Nancy raises one of the shot glasses and inclines her head towards you. Wasting no time, you welcome her offer and tip your own back, letting the familiar burn sit in your throat before chasing it with the tart lime.

Picking up a second glass, you raise a brow toward Robin. She waves you off and backs away towards the dancefloor, pulling Nancy with her, leaving you and Steve alone. A few drops of tequila slosh over the side of the glass when you push the last one towards him, your fingers brushing when he takes it. His eyes don’t leave yours as the rim of the glass lingers against his lips while he waits for you to join him. You hate that you watch his neck as he tilts his head back and swallows. How mesmerized you are by his lips molding around the lime and his tongue flicking out to lick his top lip as his eyes scrunch together from the burn.

He clears his throat and you look up into his now open eyes, almost golden in this lighting, the blues and greens fading away to make room for the brown tones, reminding you of sunshine. It was like you were the earth, begging for more of it to light you up. Drawn towards them, craving him like he was what gave you air to breathe.

Stepping back from the table, you scold yourself for being so wrapped around a boy so quickly. He smiles and glances down at the table, "I think I'm having the exact opposite problem as you."

Your eyebrows shoot up, as you question him, "What?"

He shakes his head and rips at the label of his beer with his thumb, "I don't want to just waste my time anymore. But I mean,” he smirks, keeping his eyes on the shredding label, “I’m also not gonna say no to sex.” His hand reaches back, tousling his hair and you try to focus on his words instead of his arm muscles flexing, “But if I don’t have sex with them, I’m losing my mind, and if we do it feels like I’m cheapening it, or they end up being crazy or…" he sighs and grimaces, shaking his head like you should forget about it.

He nods towards the crowd, smiling, "Anyways. We're not all bad. Go get 'em."

Taking the chance to take a deep breath and close your eyes, you nod and spin away from him. Talking about sex and relationships? It felt like dangerous territory to enter with Steve. So you make your way into the crowd for your next prospect. But no amount of hair twirling, bicep squeezing or laughing at jokes that weren't funny could stop you from sneaking glances at Steve. And maybe it was the smoky haze over the dance floor, or the few drinks you'd had, or the way you kept catching Steve's eyes locked on your lips and drinks as you listened to guys try to pick you up with all the lines you'd heard already, but your brain started to work up an idea. Started to think a little more about what Steve had said.

When you return to the table, you notice Robin and Nancy particularly cozy with each other on the dance floor and you shrug your jacket off. Steve clears his throat and you watch how glued to your body he is. Eyes drinking you in like you’re the beer pressed to his lips. It was only more fuel for the frustration that had been building for weeks. Tired of torturing yourself, you need to do something. And as Steve’s gazes became more obvious throughout the night, you were convinced he’d be on board with the plan you’d been concocting.

So, when Steve looks at Robin and Nancy, chugging the last of his drink and presses his hand to your lower back as he mumbles, "I'll be right back," you follow him.

The music dulls as you enter the slightly brighter brick hallway that led to the bathrooms. At the sound of the bar crowd echoing through the open door behind him, Steve turns, eyebrows raising curiously at you.

Gripping your hands into fists at your sides, clenching and unclenching them repeatedly as you take a deep breath, your plan falls out of you before you lose your nerve, "I think we should be friends with benefits."

His eyebrows shoot up even higher and a choking sound leaves the back of his throat as he asks, "What?"

Before you lose your confidence, you keep going, taking steps closer to him, "Listen. I'm not interested in being in love or dating you. You're not gonna break my heart Harrington. I just wanna have sex with a guy who can make me laugh and give me an orgasm.”

Leaning his shoulder against the brick wall, arms crossing with a slight grin on his face, "How drunk are you?"

Waving your hand at him, you push on, "I'm perfectly and totally okay being the girl you have sex with so you don't blow your load trying to hold out for the one or whatever."

He laughs and rubs his palm over his face, you know he’s breaking as he falters over his words, "Y/N...Robin doesn't want us to..."

The toes of your chucks tap against the tips of his shoes as you stop right in front of him, whispering, hands pressing to his chest, "Steve. I've watched you watching me all night. I know you want to have sex again too," your fingers pull at his belt loops, pulling his growing length against your hips, relishing in the way he has to close his eyes.

You press your chest against his and his head falls back against the brick, eyes fluttering open as you whisper, "It doesn't have to be complicated Steve. Just sex. No strings attached. Fun."

He places his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into your skin, he sucks his breath in as your hand works at unbuttoning his jeans. One of his hands moves to pull your chin to look him in the eyes, "Seriously. No strings attached. We don’t hurt each other. We don’t hurt Robin."

Your hands dip below his waistband, palming his length before wrapping your hand around him and tugging gently as you whisper, "Rule number one: we never tell Robin."

Leaning forward, you brush your lips against the column of his exposed neck and smirk against his skin at the whimper that falls from him as you start pumping your hand faster.

Steve sucks in his breath, fingers trailing down your shoulders, pulling the straps with them as he gasps out, "Number two: no emotions. We stop before anyone gets hurt. Save the friendship.”

Your lips trail up his neck, leaving a kiss below his ear as you press your body against his thigh, hiding what your hand was doing from the doorway, "Number three: we tell the other person if we're sleeping with other people or if we have dates. No texting or interrupting dates or other hookups - we never leave a date for the other person.”

Your hand pumping faster pulls a groan from Steve. He pulls your hand from inside his pants, grabbing your wrist, he pulls you around the corner into an unoccupied bathroom. He pushes you against the wall and leans in before breathlessly asking, "Kissing?"

You nod and he attaches his lips to your neck, hands lifting you onto his thigh as he presses you both into the door to keep it closed. His kisses trail up to your ear, then down your jaw before he presses his mouth to yours slowly. You roll your hips against his thigh. As he deepens the kiss, his hands on your hips encourage you to brush back and forth against him, seeking the friction you'd been craving since sending those texts between each other weeks ago.

Grinding on his thigh as you chase his lips greedily, he meets you with sighs you capture with your mouth. Lips moving in a harmony together that just felt right, the taste of beer on his tongue swiping out over your lip. His hands on your waist tighten, pushing you faster on his thigh as you no doubt were leaving a wet patch on his jeans through your own layers, arousal building quickly and intensely.

He starts to pop open the buttons on your shorts and you grip the back of his head as he pulls away and nips at the skin on your neck before gasping out, “Pet names?”

Somehow having enough clarity to remember his text that said honey, and the risk of becoming too much of a couple in a relationship you nod but then clarify, "But only during sex."

He nods again, mouth detaching from the bruise he’d been sucking into the dip by your collarbone, kissing up to your ear, nibbling your earlobe as he drops you to the ground and yanks your shorts and underwear down to your ankles as you pull him from his boxers that he pushes down his thighs.

His hands find your hips and lift you once more, your thumb swipes over the leaking mushroom tip, pulling the precum down and around him with a few tugs before he’s brushing himself through your slick and lining himself up at your entrance.

"Condoms?" he asks breathlessly.

You moan as he slides between you, your soaking lips already trying to suck him in and you whimper, "Birth control."

Steve pauses, his fingers cupping your jaw, "Yeah, but if you're sleeping with other people-"

You shake your head, "You're right, you're right-not tonight? But after?"

His forehead presses against yours as he nods, nose bumping against your cheek as he whispers, “You sure about this?”

Eyes opening, you stare into one another intensely, foreheads and noses pressed together. A cliff, toes hanging off the edge as you watch loose gravel fall to its demise. You both know it probably isn't going to end the way you want it to, but one lick of his lips as he looks at yours is all it took for you to press yourself down onto his length slowly as you nod.

Your eyes flutter closed as you grip his shoulders, gasping from the feeling of him slowly filling you up. His fingers dig into your hips as he slowly pushes up into you, both of you moaning from the pressure and pleasure.

You slide further down onto him and he presses his face into your neck mumbling, "Fuck, baby, you take me so…" Steve trails off, words caught in gasps and grunts into your skin. Your hands find the back of his hair, eyes fluttering open as his hips start to move, pulling himself out of you and thrusting back up.

You clench around him and he nips at your neck, kissing down your jaw until he finds your lips again. Both of you crashing into each other as he starts to thrust faster, kissing no longer the intimate foreplay from before, but the result of your primal desire - your rapidly climbing arousal. It’s messy and sloppy, lips biting and brushing against each other with no real pattern, just a need to be touching and moving against the other.

Every thrust reaches that spot that it seems only Steve can hit, deep inside of you as his hands move from your hips to under your thighs, the door rattling behind you with every pump up into you.

Every time your shoulders and head hit up and back against the door, you feel yourself clench tighter around him, hear him practically growl from the feeling. It’s already becoming too much, arching your back and tugging his hair as your head hits the door again, “Fuck!, Yes, keep going - Steve, I-"

Steve’s lips collide with yours in a rushed kiss as he nods, smiling around each other, almost laughing from the pleasure and euphoria as he commands, “Say my name again.”

You bite his bottom lip, moaning into him, “Steve.”

A low rumble from his chest as he starts pumping into you even harder, both of you smacking against the door harshly.

Your orgasm is coming faster than it ever has. Body reacting to every touch like it was an electric charge to your very core. Your hips snapping together, bodies colliding in what can only be described as filthy sounds, your hands wind the front of his shirt into your fists as your back arches further off the door in an ache to be closer to him. The grunts and moans coming from the two of you mixed with your head hitting the door repeatedly in time with his thrusts echo off of the bathroom walls and feel downright pornographic. Your growing arousal pushes cries of pleasure to fall from your lips that he quickly captures and swallows with his mouth.

His hands squeeze under your thighs, pushing you forcefully against the door again and your fingers grip the back of his head. You swear you’re seeing an entire galaxy behind your eyes as he moves one hand and presses his fingers into your swollen clit. You come forcefully against him, waves of weeks of desperation and a need to be fucked like this vibrating from your head down to your toes curling inside your shoes wrapped around his hips. It comes in tidal wave after tidal wave as he presses circles into your sensitive bead, nipping your bottom lip as your thighs start to shake. His hips stutter up into you as he comes himself, both of you sighing from the feeling of him filling you up completely.

Panting into each other's mouths as he slowly stops thrusting, his fingers find your hips again. You let your head fall back against the door, sweaty and breathless and you laugh, "Thank you, god."

Steve presses his lips to your glistening chest and neck, kissing up to your chin. You drop your head to see him grinning like an idiot.

His nose brushes against yours as his fingers tighten on your hips and a low rumble of a laugh comes from his chest as he pants out, "Most people just call me Steve."

A/N: Truly cannot thank @sweetsweetjellybean enough for being my Beta reader/editor, guiding hand and right hand wing woman - this wouldn't be posted/anything without her 🖤

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added): @boomhauer @loveshotzz @sweetsweetjellybean @myobmaya @selfdeprecatingnerd @freezaz123 @johnricharddeacy

#steve harrington #modern! steve #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington series #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction

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humanpurposes · 1 year

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part v, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // She's the first one that I see

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, questionable relationships, you know the drill, also mentions of terminal illness.

Words: 9300

A/n: Aemond's pov here we gooo. This part gets its own header coz vibes. Also available to read on AO3.

Another summer brought another two months at Dragonstone.

The relief Aemond felt clambering out of his mother’s Volvo and into the coastal breeze was immeasurable. Helaena got the front seat, as always, which left the three boys to be packed into the backseat for two hours, in the middle of a June heatwave.

He somewhat resented Daemon and Laena’s absence this year. Generally they alternated summers between Dragonstone and Pentos with the Velaryons. It was a shame, his uncle often brought some much needed tension to family holidays, the entertaining kind as opposed to the depressing kind, and Baela and Rhaena were by far the most tolerable of the younger family members.

Viserys hadn’t arrived yet. He had some work things to catch up on and would drive down later, which just left the Strongs. Alicent had received a call from Rhaenyra while they were in the car to say they’d be a few hours behind them. Thank the Gods. At least it gave them a few hours of peace.

Dragonstone had originally been built as a castle, preserved over the centuries as a place for pleasure rather than a defensive keep. It had a gatehouse, turrets, arrowslits, parapets and ivy sprawling over the outer walls that turned red in the autumn. It looked idyllic, like a castle out of a fairytale.

After bringing his bag up to his room there was only one place Aemond wanted to be.

His favourite part of coming back to Dragonstone were the gardens, sprawling walks of greenery, sweet-smelling rose bushes and sandstone archways. If the weather was right, he could convince himself he was in some remote corner of an Italian manor house.

One of the gravel paths led down to the pool, overlooked by a patio from the back of the main house. It was a blissful little oasis, when he could have it to himself, of crystal clear water, tall hedges and blue and orange tiles laid out in intricate patterns.

He had his trunks on already and left his t-shirt and shorts on a sun lounger before he slipped into the water. The cold was a welcome reprieve, especially when he dunked his head under and pushed off from the side, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.

It had been a while since he’d had time for swimming and he felt slightly irritated at the ache in his arms from the unfamiliar movements. To be fair to himself, he hadn’t made time for any hobbies over the last few weeks on account of his exams, and it had paid off at least. He still had a few weeks until he would get his results but he knew he would do well.

As far as he was concerned, his future was set. He would get four A*s, then in September he’d be off to Oldtown to start university. In three years, he would graduate with a first and come back to King’s Landing to start at Targ Corp, despite his grandfather’s attempts to convince him to consider a career at Beacon, the Hightower family business. Otto had a vision that one day, his grandsons would run two of the largest companies in Westeros, Aegon at Targ Corp and Aemond at Beacon.

Although the offer of a generous salary and an internship during his studies had sounded tempting, it was a question of pride more than anything. The silver hair should have been evidence enough; Aemond was a Targaryen before he was a Hightower.

Despite his determination to live up to the family name, he had come to resent these summers at their ancestral home. The house and the gardens were beautiful, and he loved being so close to the isolated beach below the hill the house was set on, but he could think of no worse fate than having to spend ten weeks with his insufferable sister, their father’s pride and joy, her idiotic husband and their three sons.

He ran his hands over his face as he emerged on the other side of the pool, his left palm skimming over the scar on the side of his face. It was easy to forget it was there sometimes, until he’d catch someone frowning at it.

Rhaenyra was lucky his mother hadn’t pressed charges and publically issued a statement that the whole thing had been a “tragic accident”. Later he learnt Alicent had been holding it over Rhaenyra’s head ever since, waiting for a time when she’d need the leverage.

Ten weeks with the Strongs was all that stood between him and the rest of his life, some sick test of patience.

He wasn’t alone for long before he spotted Aegon and Daeron at the outlook up at the house. They sprinted out of view and soon came hurtling down the steps to the pool in their trunks. They leapt in, disturbing Aemond’s laps but he reluctantly let himself be happy that the three of them were in the same place for once.

Aegon had just finished a degree in criminal psychology. Alicent and Otto had had to practically buy him a place at KLU. How he had managed to pass was a mystery to everyone, Aemond wondered if he had pulled it together at the last minute purely out of spite. He had already been living in a flat in central with a few of his friends for the last two years. Helaena said he rarely visited the house.

Aemond and Daeron had barely been back from Duskendale before they were all in the car to Dragonstone. He hadn’t minded boarding school, in some ways it made him appreciate the times he got to be at home, and it meant he didn’t have to see his father on a daily basis or watch his mother drive herself insane with her self-imposed workload. Again, Helaena gave him updates on that. He supposed it would make the move to Oldtown less jarring.

For now he laughed as Aegon challenged them to swimming races and tackled Daeron when he lost. The oldest Targaryen brother was surprisingly strong for his shorter stature. Daeron towered over him but he was wiry, easy for Aegon to sling him over his shoulder.

They were making such a scene in the water that Aemond didn’t notice his mother until she shouted Aegon’s name from the bottom of the steps. “Put your brother down and get changed, seven hells!”

Aegon tossed Daeron’s legs over his head, sending him flopping unceremoniously into the pool. “What’s the rush?”

“Rhaenyra and Harwin are only half an hour away!” Alicent shrieked, as if this was something they should have cared about. “And they’re bringing a guest, so I want you all presentable and ready for dinner before they arrive.”

Daeron was starting to climb up the ladder, so Aemond pressed his palms to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out.

“What guest?” he asked, reaching for his towel from one of the sun loungers.

Harwin’s niece.

She’d been a flower girl at Harwin and Rhaenyra’s wedding, but he only knew that from the photographs. He didn’t remember the last time he must have seen her, probably some family gathering with the Strongs, before Luke slashed a knife in his face and they stopped seeing them as often.

Aegon seemed eager for “fresh meat” as they marched back up to the house.

Daeron was more sceptical and shot Aemond a concerned frown. “Just what we need, another Strong kid.”

After a quick shower, Aemond changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of dark green cargo trousers, and made his way through the maze of hallways and ornate staircases. He found his parents in the reception hall, a spacious room located at the front of the house, leading off from the entrance hall, going through to the dining room on one side and the drawing room from the other. It was where they usually lingered when the arrival of a guest was imminent.

Most of the visitors to Dragonstone considered this to be the most impressive room in the house, with its tall stained glass windows, silver chandelier, walnut panelling and carved columns supporting a gallery on the first floor.

The smell of smoke and charred wood drifted from the fireplace, mingling with the musk of antique velvet sofas. Alicent was torn between typing something on her phone and discussing some arrangement with their head of security, a deceptively young looking man with black hair named Criston Cole.

Evidently Viserys had arrived. He was sitting in a red armchair, taking small sips of a glass of whisky. He looked up when he heard footsteps against the floor, and offered his son a vague nod.

Helaena and Daeron weren’t far behind Aemond, and Aegon was of course the last to make it down. He insisted it was “perfect timing,” because the moment he walked into the room, Cole received a call from the front gate.

Daeron perched on the windowsill and jittering like a puppy as a black escalade pulled up before the gatehouse.

Within minutes Viserys was throwing his arms around his favourite child. Aemond cast a cold glare over Harwin, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, clinging to his father’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. The sixth guest followed behind them.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, wide eyes sweeping curiously over the people, the paintings on the walls and the antiques in glass cabinets. The beginning of a smile spread across her lips, but her face fell when her eyes met his.

Aemond sucked his teeth into his lips. He was used to people looking at him like that, or averting their gaze altogether. He could only imagine what Jace and Luke might have told her about their cruel uncle and his horrible scar.

At dinner she sat on the other end of the table from him, between Harwin and Jace. She was a few years older than her cousins but they all seemed to get on well, joking and smiling at each other. It made Aemond’s blood boil.

Daeron made a point of introducing himself to her but he suspected this show of hospitality was mostly because she was pretty.

She really was pretty though, and quiet, but not necessarily in a nervous way. She seemed content to listen, smiling vaguely at the things people said, feeling no need to fill the silences. When she did smile– properly smile– it was wide, bright and unashamed.

He overheard her mention an interest in history as dessert was brought out, asking Rhaenyra and Viserys all sorts of questions about Dragonstone’s origins and architecture. He thought of a few books in the library he could recommend but dismissed the idea. When Aegon suggested giving her a tour of the house he felt his grip on his fork tighten.

Dragonstone was large enough that even with most of the family there it was easy to feel alone, and Aemond spent the first few days of their stay doing exactly that. In the mornings he’d go for a run, then head down to either the pool or the beach for a quick swim. He had his reading list for uni already and was making his way through a textbook on political philosophy, which he read either in the library or a quiet corner of the garden.

Daeron and Aegon were far better at being civil with Jace and Luke than he was, and she seemed happy to tag along with their antics. Aemond avoided them where he could.

One afternoon he decided to take his textbook to the patio at the back of the house, and winced at the shrieks of laughter coming from the pool. He was going to head back inside but found himself stepping towards the balustrade, looking over the greenery to the unnaturally blue water.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, with her legs in the water. Even from so far away he could make out the details of her smile, her teeth, the roundness of her cheeks and the way she squinted her eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until a gentle voice pulled him from his trance.

“Aemond?”

His heart almost stopped and he spun around immediately. An awful feeling sank into his chest, like he’d done something wrong.

Helaena was standing in the doorway, in a pale blue sundress and purple sandals. “Me and mum were going to drive into the village, if you’d like to come?”

Maybe some time away from the house would do him good. He nodded and uttered a quiet “yes.”

She came onto her tiptoes, trying to peer past his shoulder, but from where she was standing she wouldn’t have been able to see what he was looking at. Maybe she didn’t need to see. Another few howls of laughter drifted up to the patio, and a cry of “Aegon, you bastard!”

Helaena sighed and smiled. He left his book on a table in the entrance hall and followed his sister out to the gatehouse where Alicent was already waiting in the Volvo.

The village was just over a ten minute drive away from the house. Aemond leaned his head against the window in the backseat, feeling content in the blur of vibrant greens and blues. He could have fallen asleep to the hum of the air con and the voices of his mother and sister.

Until he heard her name.

“What?” he mumbled, absentmindedly, shifting himself in the seat and catching Helaena’s eye through her overhead mirror.

“She’s starting her A Levels in September,” Alicent said. “Politics, philosophy and history, same as you.”

He had also taken an extra class in High Valyrian, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You’d get on I think,” Helaena added, pushing her John Lennon-esque sunglasses on top of her head. He could see she was smirking.

Aemond huffed and went back to staring out the window at the fields, the sky, the sea and the wildflowers growing at the side of the road. He could say he didn’t care about their guest but it would have been a lie. He couldn’t get that red swimsuit out of his head.

Eventually he started agreeing to the occasional beach trip or tennis match. Turns out he quite enjoyed spending time with his nephews when he could beat them at something. And it meant he could see her more often.

There were these odd moments, when he’d catch her staring at him over breakfast or by the pool, that got his hopes up a little, only for her to quickly look away and find someone to fawn over, usually Aegon or one of her cousins. But then she’d find him in the garden and ask about the book he was reading, or sit next to him when they lit a campfire on the beach, just brushing her leg against his.

They could be confusing but he liked those moments. Every day he woke up ectatic that he would get to see her, and that they might talk about politics or philosophy or a shared love for Daphne du Maurier or the Great Gatsby.

He needed her alone, just once.

He got the chance on the last weekend of July. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Helaena had gone to Rosby for the day, while Harwin had been talking about a trip to Dragonstone harbour to go fishing, something Daeron sounded rather enthusiastic about. Leaving him, Aegon and Viserys at the house.

After a late breakfast, Aemond went up to the library with the next book on his reading list, An Introduction to Essosi Regionalism. He was rather taken aback to see her sitting at the writing desk by the window. He had assumed she had gone to the harbour with the others.

In a sudden and awkward motion she stood and turned to face him, with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Sorry,” she said, pointing at the desk, “did you want to–”

“No.” He instantly regretted how short and final he sounded.

Her eyes dipped and he realised he was clutching his book far too tightly.

“I was only looking really,” she said, reaching back for her book, a biography of Queen Alysanne.

“You like history,” he said, intending it to be a question but it sounded more like a statement.

She smiled again, at his mistake, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s incredible getting to spend so much time here, it’s a beautiful house.”

He stepped forward to place his book on the desk behind her, noticing the sweet citrusy scent of her perfume and the way she tensed up when he came too close.

“I could show you around, if you’d like? I mean, you’ve already been here long enough and you’ve probably seen most of it by now–”

It was only when she put a hand on his shoulder did he realise his head had dropped down to the floor.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Suddenly his chest felt a little lighter.

He showed her his favourite parts of the house, except the library which she had already seen, obviously. She had so many questions, noticed every detail and traced her fingertips along the ancient stone walls with a look of wonder that made his heart flutter.

Then they came to the long gallery overlooking the reception hall. He pointed out the fan vaulted ceiling detailed with gold and the line of portraits of hundreds of years of Targaryen history, monarchs and more recent family members. She was especially fascinated with a portrait of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with children. She could put a name and a story to every face.

She turned her head towards him and her breath hitched when she realised he was looking at her. His first instinct was to back away and apologise, but she didn’t move or say anything, just looked up at him with those pretty eyes.

He wondered if he should kiss her. He’d never tried to kiss someone before. It should have been simple enough but it felt so daunting. What if he did it wrong? What if she didn’t want him to?

He saw her eyes flicker to his scar, and felt like he understood.

“Do you want to look at the old solar?” he asked, already walking towards the north door at the end of the gallery.

Behind him he heard her mutter a quiet “yeah.”

He rushed through the last few rooms. He could hardly catch his breath or think beyond the choking feeling in his throat or how hot the house seemed all of a sudden.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asked when he suggested going to the Maegor suite.

He nodded, and followed her down to the entrance hall, where they ran into Aegon. He was in trunks and an unbuttoned shirt to show off the tan on his abs.

He glanced between them with a strange look in his eye. “Beach?”

“Sounds good!” she said with a bright smile. “I just need to get some stuff from my room.”

Aegon grinned at her, then at his brother.

“I’m good, thanks,” Aemond grumbled, and went to spend the rest of the day sulking in his room.

Something was different about her after that. She stopped asking so many questions and rather than smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways she sighed and put her head down.

He really didn’t have much experience with these kinds of things, and he sure in seven hells wasn’t going to ask Aegon for advice.

He wished there was something he could do, but every time he thought about trying to talk to her he pictured her eyes on his scar and decided he’d rather spare her the trouble.

August went by far too quickly and then she was gone.

His time at the University of Oldtown brought some interesting experiences.

People seemed to respect him in a way he wasn’t used to. His lecturers complimented his work and his commitment to his studies. His classmates listened to him when he spoke in seminars, asked for his opinions on current affairs and invited him to lunches and parties.

He felt like a novelty in Oldtown, people wanted to befriend him, be seen with him, earn his approval. He felt shallow for admitting it, but the newfound attention felt good.

When he went back to King’s Landing that first summer, everyone said he was different. He’d always been interested in sports but he’d committed to a gym routine, shed some of the baby fat and toned out nicely. He traded the trackies and sports trainers for black shirts and leather jackets, got his ears pierced, drank whisky and smoked cigarettes on nights out.

And it turned out he wasn’t as hideous as he thought he was, in fact more often than not, the scar worked in his favour when it came to flirting.

After graduating he spent the summer in Oldtown, on an internship at Beacon, until Alicent told him she needed him in King’s Landing. She needed a contender of her own to pose as Viserys’ successor against Rhaenyra, and it was obvious neither Aegon or Helaena were going to live up to her expectations. So he did as he was told and moved back home, just in time for everything to start going wrong.

Viserys made his will. Rhaenyra was set to inherit Targ Corp and just about everything else he owned, including Dragonstone. Fucking typical. She had always been his golden child, all that was left of his beloved first wife. His mother always said he never got over Aemma. Singling out Rhaenyra was his way of making it up to her.

But Alicent had been the one helping Viserys run Targ Corp for twenty years, while Rhaenyra’s only real talent was her ability to get whatever she wanted out of their father.

If Rhaenyra were to succeed Viserys, everything his mother had worked for would be for nothing, but Aemond could be the one to change that. He could bring Targ Corp to new heights and live up to the legacy of the Targaryen name. All he needed was for Viserys to give him that chance.

Alicent had been in talks with Borros Baratheon of Storm’s End, an energy company based in the Stormlands. A deal with them would open Targ Corp to a whole new industry, and maybe then Viserys would recognise the lapse in judgement.

The Storm’s End contract was everything and Alicent had trusted Aemond to see it through. Only it fell apart in his hands. One seemingly minor mistake and Baratheon was out.

Alicent was devastated and it killed him. The late nights and weekends working in the office when she should have been with her children, the constant spite and security from the corporate world, the tabloid news stories that called her a “gold digger,” and the years she spent chasing her husband’s approval had all been for nothing.

She never said it, but Aemond knew she blamed him.

It had been a shitty three months and by December he was exhausted. Daeron was back from Duskendale, Aegon was staying for a few weeks, and Helaena was adamant that they were going to have an enjoyable Christmas. She covered the house in fairy lights and put up a tree in the living room, decorated with colourful baubles that really had nothing to do with Christmas; rainbows, butterflies and bees.

The other three agreed to indulge her. Aegon suddenly became an expert at Christmas cocktails, Daeron was in a baking frenzy and Aemond put his old piano lessons to good use. He sat at the baby grand in the hallway for the first time in forever and played some old hymns mum used to make them sing. Until Aegon put the chords for Fairytale of New York in front of him, which he agreed was a much better song.

Alicent came in from the office on the 24th, rain soaked through her coat and her eyes red. She’d had a call from Lyonel Strong.

Harwin was in the hospital. Pancreatic cancer. He’d been ignoring the symptoms for years apparently, and by the time Rhaneyra made him get a diagnosis it was too late.

Nothing was an isolated issue. Mum, dad, Rhaenyra, work… everything fed off each other in a single spiral of chaos and grief.

He needed the space, he decided at a fundraiser on New Years Eve. He and Viserys had arrived together but they didn’t so much as make eye contact the entire night. Rhaenyra was understandably inconsolable, mum had refused to go, Helaena wasn’t cut out for these kinds of events and Daeron was studying for mock exams. He at least found solace in the knowledge that he was preferable to Aegon.

A woman with black hair caught his attention. She moved effortlessly throughout the room, martini in hand, which she sipped through dark red lips as she struck up conversations with the other attendees. Did she realise she was targeting the richest people in the room? Probably. She blended in well, in a black slip dress and a pearl necklace, but there was something else, glaring him right in the face.

She was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

She smirked when she realised he was staring at her. After ordering herself another drink she waltzed over to him and introduced herself as “Alys Rivers.”

He must have let a little of his shock show on his face, because she smirked again.

Alys Rivers. Harwin’s cousin. The woman with the pretty daughter who’d spent a summer at Dragonstone.

They chatted for hours, she was very curious to hear about the company politics at Targ Corp, the few months he’d been working there and the whole debacle with the Storm’s End contract. She told him about herself too. She worked for Harrenhal PR, alongside her brothers, but was looking to start her own company.

He asked about Harwin.

That was the only time her perfect persona faltered, just for a moment, but then she took a sip of her drink and she was back to business. She said she was doing alright. It was a shock, he was like a brother to her, and she was trying to make the most of the moments she had left with him.

“It makes you appreciate what you have,” she said. They had found a table in a corner of the bar, ordering too many cocktails. She sighed heavily and put her hand on her chest, over her heart, “I’m so lucky I’ve got my darling girl.”

He didn’t even need to ask before she started telling him more. She was in her second year of studying history at KLU, a bright student, a sweet and serious girl.

She said Harwin adored her, always had, even once things got serious with Rhaenyra and he started having kids of his own.

“Poor thing,” he said, “this must all be so hard on her.”

“She’s like me,” Alys insisted, finishing off another martini. Her words were starting to slur, but even when she was drunk she did it gracefully. “Nothing phases her.”

He could still remember the smell of her perfume, sweet and citrusy.

Alys’s perfume was dark, bitter and boozy. When he kissed her the taste of her martinis burned on his tongue. Vodka. He was more of a gin man.

Generally he tried to avoid one night stands, but it didn’t take much convincing before he found himself in her hotel room.

He spent the entire night on his back while she edged him relentlessly, with her hands and her mouth, before she finally rode him, whispering praises in his ear as she did it.

He decided it would be bad manners not to text her, so the following Friday night, they went to a steakhouse on Conquest street. It felt more like a business meeting than a date, they talked more about Targ Corp and her plans for her own PR firm. She had the ambition and industry knowledge, but needed the strategy and the connections to make it work.

“You and I could be a match made in heaven,” he said.

She paused midway through a sip of red wine, and raised her eyebrow ever so slightly. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” she said, “but you’re smart and uncomplicated. I think we could work something out.”

The line between business and pleasure was non-existent. They looked over contracts and business plans over coffee, accompanied each other to conferences and fucked in hotel rooms. She was straightforward, blunt at times but he found it impressive and refreshing. He never had to guess what she was thinking because she didn’t see the point in trying to hide behind niceties. Every time he complimented her confidence she said it was “a consequence of age.”

Things moved faster than he realised. Suddenly winter was turning into spring and Alys asked him to work for Rivers PR full time.

He found the wherewithal to tell Alicent and Viserys on a rare occasion that his father actually bothered to eat with them. He tried to be as casual as he could about his sabbatical from Targ Corp. It ended with an explosive row over the dinner table, leaving both Helaena and his mother in tears. Viserys was still shouting from the hallway as he packed an overnight bag and stormed out to his car.

He had to call three times before Aegon finally picked up. “Good for you!” his brother cheered down the end of the phone. “Who would have thought you’d end up like this though? Six months ago you were mum’s favourite son.”

“She just kept telling me I was selfish,” Aemond said, first the Storm’s End contract and now this. “And apparently Rhaenyra’s been up in arms about Alys branching off from Harrenhal, especially with everything that’s going on with Harwin.”

“Will you go to hers then?”

He was already heading towards central. “That’s why I called, I need somewhere to stay, I thought you could put me up for a bit.”

Aegon drew out an exaggerated “uhh,” and Aemond hung up, not in the mood to listen to some long winded excuse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he came to a junction and a sign for Queen’s Park. So much for being “uncomplicated.”

Alys was in a silk robe when she opened the door. “Mummy and daddy kicked you out?” she asked with a pouty frown.

He insisted he had left of his own accord.

It was a beautiful terraced house, plaster fronted, overlooking the park. The interior was understated and elegant, dark wood floors, white walls and bursts of muted greens.

It was quiet too, and the only light came from the kitchen.

“Where’s–”

“She’s out with a few friends,” Alys said.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she poured out two glasses of wine and he told her everything.

By the time he was done she had finished her glass. She looked into it, like she was surprised to see that it was empty. He hadn’t touched his.

“Are you planning on staying for long?” she asked.

For a moment he felt stupid for coming to her at all. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were to each other, and suddenly he was showing up on her doorstep and using her like a therapist.

“I called Aegon first but I think he’s busy. I can be gone in the morning if you want.”

She took hold of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He looked at her. He was used to her expression being so smug and severe, but she looked gentle now, her eyes wide and full of pity. When he took a shallow breath he realised she was wearing the same, dark perfume from New Years.

He kissed her slowly, nudging his nose against hers and slipping a hand around her waist to pull her in closer.

She chuckled softly as she pulled away. “I’ll be off early in the morning. Take some time if you need to, sort something out with Aegon or…”

“Right,” he said, swallowing down the lingering taste of red wine from her lips.

They slept in her bed, with their backs to each other.

When he woke in the morning Alys was gone. He checked the time on his phone, 8am, and he had a text from her: Help yourself to coffee. Let me know what your plan is.

He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he headed downstairs. He quickly figured out his way around the expensive coffee machine and settled on a stool at the island with a cup of black coffee.

His hands were restless, tapping against the coffee cup and the counter top.

She was in the same house as him, probably sound asleep upstairs, though he hadn’t heard anyone come in during the night. Did she know he was here? She must have seen the car outside, but she wouldn’t know it was his.

He’d hardly even considered the possibility of seeing her again until now, but he hadn’t expected things with to Alys to go this far.

He looked down at his phone. Maybe staying with Alys wasn’t such a good idea. He started typing out a text to Aegon when he heard the door to the kitchen open.

“Hello again.”

She stood in the doorway, squinting her eyes at him, hair loose and tousled, in nothing but an overused Black Sabbath t-shirt that covered the tops of her thighs. She looked a little dishevelled and utterly perfect.

“Hi,” Aemond said, putting his phone down and reaching for his cup. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I got a text from mum. She said she had a guest and I was free to ignore him or kick him out.”

“Have you decided which?”

She huffed a laugh and there was that smile again, though not as wide as it had been that summer. “I felt like being nosy,” she said.

She moved towards the sink and filled a glass of water, which she finished in one go, with a sound of satisfaction. She drew the tip of her tongue between her lips and set the glass on the counter before she turned to look at him again. “So you’re mum’s new boytoy?”

“Is that what she calls me?” he said, trying to play off the tight feeling in his chest with a small smirk.

“She doesn’t call you anything, actually. She’s been going on these little dates, calling them ‘work calls’ and hoping I won’t notice.”

“How do you know they’re not work calls?”

“I wouldn’t have until she brought you home with her.”

“That was my fault…” he looked down at his coffee. He was convinced he could already feel the caffeine buzzing in his fingertips.

“You look different,” she said.

His eyes shot back to her. “How so?”

“Your hair’s longer. It makes you look older.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at the way she recoiled into herself.

“I meant it as a compliment, honest.”

She looked different too. Her face hadn’t changed much from what he could remember, but mostly he noticed that she seemed more subdued. Her eyes were set in dark circles and they weren’t as wide, and when she wasn’t speaking her lips fell slightly. She looked older, but then how long had it been since Dragonstone? More than three years, less than four.

She told him where everything was in the kitchen, which he could have figured out himself but he didn’t want to interrupt her. She asked how long he was going to stay and he said until he heard back from Aegon.

That turned out to be a week later, and by then Alys insisted she liked having him around.

Initially he looked at a few rentals, which Alys discouraged and insisted he should buy his own place. Between work and the daily mass of texts he was getting from his siblings about Targ Corp and their parents, he couldn’t find the time to truly consider it.

It was easy to fall into a routine with Alys. She left for work earlier than him so he took his own car every morning. Everyone at the office guessed they were ‘together’ but they kept things professional. If he so much as put a hand on her shoulder she scared him off with a warning look. She always stayed later than him so he’d go back to the house, sort out dinner and have it waiting for when the girls got home.

The girls. He was going domestic.

She only had lectures a few times a week and when she was at home she stayed in her bedroom, only occasionally bringing a book down to the garden or the lounge while he worked in the kitchen. He wondered if she was avoiding him. Considering the awful impression he made at Dragonstone, he didn’t blame her.

But eventually she started to warm up to him. They found some common interests and small talk turned into in-depth discussions of history and politics and their favourite films and albums. She loved Mazzy Star especially. Sometimes, when he had the house to himself, he’d listen through their albums and imagine her listening to the same songs.

He soon learned just how elusive Alys could be. She always had something going on, a work event, a conference or even trips to Pentos with her old uni friends. When she was at home she was usually in the study on the top floor of the house, on a call, looking over contracts or managing some kind of crisis that only she could solve. If he joined her on work trips it was by her invitation.

So he often found himself alone with her. Movie nights became a weekly ritual, usually late in the week, and every week they seemed to sit a little closer to each other than before.

One night she fell asleep against him. His arm was around the back of the sofa and her head gently fell against his chest.

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake her, but she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, lips parted and breath fluttering down the collar of his t-shirt. Her body was warm and she was wearing that same citrusy perfume.

He wanted to keep her there. He could lie down, hold her in his arms and fall asleep pressed into her back.

Guilt told him otherwise. So he moved away from her, as carefully as he could, and guided her to lie fully on the sofa with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over her body.

Alys came in from a dinner sometime after 1am and slipped wordlessly into her side of the bed. Within minutes he could hear her gentle snores.

He closed his eyes but he didn’t sleep. All he could think about was her breath on his chest, the way her shorts had ridden up her thighs, and that fucking perfume.

He was probably just tired, getting excited by some old crush which he was way past by now. He was sure he would forget about it by the morning.

If only it had ended there.

By the time spring came around she had warmed up to him. They spent Sunday mornings drinking coffee together in the garden and went for drives out to Blackwater Bay. They had inside jokes and talked about their families. Some nights she’d come crying to him over uni, arguments with her mother and a stupid boy who broke her heart. She was so pretty when she cried.

When she asked him to help her with a particular exam he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about their study sessions together, the way she shuddered when he put a hand on her shoulder, the way her breath hitched when he praised her.

His heart swelled when she came home from that exam with a wide smile, throwing herself into his arms and telling him all the details she could remember. Her eyes were so bright and gazing up at him almost adoringly.

He was so happy for her, and so proud.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her. She met him with soft touches to his neck and a hummed whimper that threatened to spark something primal in him.

They smiled at each other when it was over, until the haze started to wear off. He cleared his throat, and muttered that he still had work to do. She nodded but they kept staring at each other, his hands on her waist and hers drifting down from his neck to his chest.

She was the first to step away. He watched her disappear through the door and wondered how he had managed to make such a mess of his life.

For the entirety of the next week he couldn’t get that muffled whimper out of his head.

Every time he saw her he wanted to drag her into him and kiss her again, harsher, hungrier, with his hands tracing over every inch of her body.

He told himself he was being stupid and he just needed an outlet. For the most part, he and Alys doing well together, but on the few occasions they actually fucked he found the novelty of being beneath her was starting to wear off.

Frustratingly, everything else seemed to be working well for him. He was good at his job; working for Rivers PR was certainly helping to distract him from his family and the company was thriving. He didn’t have to put up with his parents and the Rivers girls seemed happy enough to have him around. The only problem left was him.

In June Alys was accompanying a client on a trip to Dorne, a few days in Salt Shore, Lemonwood and then a week in Sunspear. Aemond wasn’t sure if he was elated or dreading her absence. Every time he’d been around her lately he held his breath, waiting for her to realise something was wrong.

She remained perfectly normal though. Her exams were finished and she had an internship at Lion Publishing lined up for the month of August. In the meantime she was living life as she pleased, lunch dates and picnics in the park with her friends, but she spent a lot of time at home too, mostly reading or writing in a leatherbound notebook.

The kiss was a mistake. A stupid mistake. He kept looking for a chance to talk to her, but decided it might be best until Alys was away.

Alys’ flight was due on a Friday evening and he dropped her off in the afternoon. They sat in silence for most of the journey but silence wasn’t a rarity for them.

When they reached the airport they both went to take the bags out the boot.

“I’m a big girl, I can manage,” she said dryly, but that was just her sense of humour.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

She set her suitcase by her side and slipped her arm through her Prada tote bag. “The two of you can look after yourselves well enough,” she said, fussing with the collar of her blouse. “I don’t need to tell you not to answer the door to strangers or anything?”

He smiled unenthusiastically. “No.”

With her eyes one the pavement, she brought her fingers to the styled waves of her hair, bringing a few tresses over her shoulder.

“She’s fond of you,” she said. “I know I can’t always be there for her when she needs me, but I know you helped her with that exam and I appreciate it.” There was no sign of shortness or irritation like there usually was when she spoke about anything remotely personal. She was being sincere and it just made him feel worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and the businesswoman was back. “Right then. I’d give you a kiss goodbye but I have lipstick on.”

How devastatingly practical, as always. She threw an arm around his shoulder and he pecked her cheek before she headed for the terminal, quickly and gracefully, heels clicking against the ground.

He had plans to meet Helaena for dinner at a restaurant in central. With her mother out the way, she had invited a few friends to celebrate the end of exams and he figured she’d appreciate the space.

He didn’t realise how much he missed not living with his sister until he saw her. That was the downside of the new circumstances, he never got to see his siblings as much as he wanted to.

Helaena asked him about Alys and her, how they were dealing with Harwin still in the hospital. He told her the truth, they didn’t really talk about it much, but by that point it was a matter of waiting for the inevitable.

Apparently Rhaenyra was a mess. She would be. Her husband was dying, she had three kids to look after and Harrenhal PR was falling to pieces now that Larys was in charge and Alys had poached half of their best clients.

Helaena was exhausted. She was getting ready to start a PhD in Highgarden and she should have been excited, but she hardly had the wherewithal to think about it with Alicent and Viserys’ constant rowing. At least Daeron would be back in a few more days so she wouldn’t be the only child at the house.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone this year?” she asked.

He took a telling breath through his nose and finished off his glass of wine.

“Aemond, please, it won’t be the same without you.”

He scoffed. “No one wants me there.”

She frowned at him with those sad blue eyes of hers. “Don’t say that.”

“Did you know mum hasn’t called me once since I left? It’s been five months. Do you really think I can just show up and we’ll play happy families then go back to hating each other when we get home?”

Her face twisted like she might start crying.

“Sorry I just–” he held his forehead in his hands and dragged them back over his hair. He didn’t want to think about Dragonstone, it just made him think of her.

He felt her hand gently take his wrist and guide it down to the table so she could see his face.

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She raised her eyebrows and hummed like she didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t long after 10pm when he got back to the house. He heard voices and giggles in the front lounge. He walked softly through the hallway and slowed when he came to the door.

“... that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Jo, you’re sick.”

“Oh step-daddy!”

Laughter followed, with a few disbelieving sighs. He recognised her laugh, and made out two other distinct voices. He guessed they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Is he hot though?”

He listened for a reply but she stayed quiet.

“Oh come on! I bet you’ve thought about it.”

“No.” She said it so simply he almost believed her.

He moved through to the kitchen intending to get some water. There were two empty pizza boxes and an assortment of empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. He went to clean them up when the door opened.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her face was dewy and a little flushed. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I only just got in,” he said, “don’t worry I didn’t hear anything incriminating.”

She tilted her head at him with a slightly dazed smile. She looked gorgeous and the pair of jeans she wore fit her perfectly.

She refilled the glasses from a new bottle and nodded to an empty glass on the counter. “Do you want to join us?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said.

He followed her through to the lounge, bringing the glass and the bottle with him.

Before he opened the door she leaned into him and whispered, “don’t worry, Margarey has work tomorrow and Jo’s waiting for her boyfriend so they won’t stay long.”

Margaery and Joanna were effortlessly charming but he distrusted them for being law students. They both grinned when he sat on the sofa by the window and were eager to ask him about his time in Oldtown and his job.

Joanna kept glancing over to her, but she remained unphased until Margarey mentioned Targ Corp. Her face slowly fell in irritation. He found it quite endearing.

“So why did you leave?” Joanna asked, “it was something to do with Viserys’ will, right?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she said shortly.

Aemond gave her a quick smile to let her know it was alright and she settled back to contentment.

Just as she said, they were both gone before midnight. She saw them to the door and when she came back to the lounge she fell beside him with her legs against his and her head on his shoulder.

“Did you have a nice evening?” he asked. If he turned his head just a little further his lips would brush against her temple.

“Really lovely,” she sighed.

He considered asking about the kiss, but she was definitely tipsy and just sitting with her was too peaceful. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the moment and the sound of her breathing.

Her fingers began to trace up over the fabric of his shirt, up and down over his stomach and the lines of his abs underneath.

He put his hand over hers to stop her, but somehow it only seemed to spur his own want. He closed his hand around her, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

She shifted her head so she was looking at him and her breath echoed over his neck.

She leaned in first. Their lips met with gentle grazes, just feeling each other and breathing the same air.

Gradually they deepened their movements. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he melted at her softness and her warmth. He cupped her jaw to pull her into him despite the gnawing feeling in his chest, like he was getting too close, like he could never get close enough.

She started to move and he tried to keep hold of her, expecting her to slip from his grasp, until he felt her weight on his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around the sides of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She gave him another dazed little smile before she continued to kiss him fiercely, desperately.

It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea, but for now he would take the guilt if he got to feel her like this, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck, her heavy breaths and whimpers as she started to rock her hips against him.

He reached to take hold of her hips, moving with her at first before he set a new, steadier pace, dragging her against the tightening bulge in his jeans. “You alright there, pet?” he hummed.

She nudged her forehead against his. “Please can you just…” her eyes followed her hands as she propped herself against his chest.

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered.

She let out a whine that went straight to his cock.

“Come on,” he hissed, “talk to me.”

She clenched her fists to tug at his shirt. “I want you,” she breathed.

He strained an exhale as he tried to stop his hips from bucking into her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said with a groan, but he was already trying to rationalise it.

She could be the outlet, just once, just to get it out of his system.

“No it’s not, but I still want you,” she said.

Or maybe it didn’t have to be about him. He could just give her what she needed.

“Please,” she whined trying to fight against his hold on her hips, “I want you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he cooed, moving his face down to tease the skin of her throat with his lips and tongue.

He knew they were on the cusp of something dangerous and damning, but it was her, the girl from that summer, the girl with the pretty smile and the curious look in her eyes, Alys’ daughter.

When he looked up to her face her eyes were wide and pleading.

Maybe he felt he owed it to a younger version of himself, or maybe it was the wine he’d had at the restaurant but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

He pressed his palm against her stomach, feeling her body tremble and her quick, shallow breaths. He trailed lower to undo the buttons on her jeans. “Take these off for me,” he muttered.

She didn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. She drew the jeans down her legs, leaving her in her top and a black thong. He told her to straddle him again, which she did.

With firm but gentle hands he felt along the bare flesh of her thighs and her ass, positioning her over his thigh. He pulled the thong against her until she was squirming and trying to rut against his jeans.

He chuckled softly to himself and held her waist tightly to keep her still, and she followed the silent instruction so well. She was panting, leaning in closer to him, but waiting for his lead. He was slightly scared of how much he loved it.

He brought his hand to her cheek, stroking and toying with her bottom lip. “Do you want to be good for me?” he whispered.

She hummed her agreement.

“Fuck yourself against my thigh, pretty girl, show me how desperate you are.”

With a small nod she started to move, letting out little moans when her clothed clit rolled against his leg.

He kept her movements slow, even when she tried to fight against him and go faster.

“No,” he said, “be a good girl for me, do as you’re told.”

The pace was agonising for her, eyes screwed shut and jaw hung open as her hands got restless, running over his jaw, his neck and into his hair.

He kept her steady and pressed her down against his jeans with each drag of her hips, playing with the change in pressure and smiling at the way it made her whine and her eyes water.

“Aemond… I need more…”

He still kept the movements nice and slow. “Just let it happen– there you go, good fucking girl.”

She didn’t hold back her moans as her climax hit her, tensing hard and falling into him. He kept her moving through it, until her thighs were shaking and she begged him to stop.

He was sure he’d never been so hard in his life, but he held her there, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume.

Then he brought her away from him so he could see her face, beautifully blissed out. There was that light, hopeful feeling in his chest, but it was starting to crumble under the realisation of what they’d done.

“Is that actually a thing, the step-daddy thing?” he asked.

She huffed a breathy laugh. “According to Jo it is. Why, do you want me to call you daddy?”

He wouldn’t admit it then, but he liked the way it sounded coming from her.

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

Text

Charlie SNL x f!reader

Warnings: angst, infidelity, trauma rehab, unprotected P in V sex.

WC: 3.8k

Rehabilitation

Previous part | Masterlist

Charlie was awake. The relief you felt was immeasurable. The call had come from his best friend, Jake. Your stomach lurched at the thought that he knew what was going on between you. They were close and you knew him pretty well from work. You'd even gone on business trips together before Charlie had transferred departments. No, Charlie would have told you if he knew.

"Hey. I thought you'd want to see him. He mentioned you." Jake greeted you with a hug. "The doctors, Morgan and his sister are in with him now.

After what felt like forever as you insides chewed themselves up. Charlie's sister and his wife emerged followed by the doctors. The doctors and his sister turned right away from you. Morgan lingered for a moment, wiping tears from her eyes before her gaze caught you.

"Morgan? How is he?" The nerves were evident in your voice, you hoped that was the only thing.

"He's awake. He's more coherent now. At first he was talking but it made no sense. He was slurring under his breath about LA and candles. The doctor thinks he was dreaming in his semi conscious state. I spoke to him, told him I was his wife he said 'Not today'." She laughed until fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "He rambled on a little more then said something very clearly. He asked for you." Your heart stuttered. "His sister thinks he's so sweet. Like he wanted to check on you because you were there. I know differently. I know he's asking about you because you are fucking my husband."

"I…" you began but there were no words.

"Don't. Just don't. Don't deny it or justify it. It's done. You need to break it off. You are never to come near my husband again. My husband. You need to quit your job. You need to stay away from him so we can fix our marriage. Don't you dare tell him that I know, you tell him it's over and that's it." Despite the fact that she was shaking with rage, her voice was calm and steady.

Behind her Jake approached. "There you are, Charlie's asking for you. Both of you actually."

Barely holding yourself together you found enough voice to speak. "You know. He'll be pretty overwhelmed if we all go in. I'll see him another time. Tell him I'm so happy he's awake."

Work became your focus again. You threw yourself into it, let it consume you. It was better than letting your thoughts consume you. It also kept you out of the house. Daniel was busy too, so he didn't question it, or moan about it.

A month passed and Charlie called every day. The first time you had answered. His voice sounded different, his words were slightly slurred, it was still nice to hear him. Part of you wanted to just keep him talking, to delay the pain. Trying to do the right thing, you had broken it off with him without mentioning Morgan's words.

Every day after that, his calls went to voicemail. Every day he asked just for you to talk to him. As much as it ate you up inside, you had to ignore it. Giving Charlie and Morgan some space was the least you could do. Charlie might be a grown man, capable of making his own decisions but as the saying goes it takes two to tango. You had to hold yourself responsible for your actions and try to make up for them.

When the phone calls stopped was when your heart finally broke. That was when things between you were really over. You reminded yourself that you deserved the pain. It was only what you had caused. You deserved to wallow in it.

One Sunday afternoon that's exactly what you did. Daniel was, thankfully, out on a fishing trip. The house was quiet, the only sounds were of your thoughts haunting you. Laying in bed you let them pile over you until it was just a blanket of white noise.

You had no idea what time it was when your phone rang. "Hello?"

"Baby, just hear me out. Please." Charlie's voice, he sounded like his old self. The one from before the accident. The one who held you, kissed you, loved you. Every feeling for him that you had pushed down inside erupted to the surface. Tears spang to your eyes, your throat became thick with emotion. He took your silence as permission to continue. "Morgan left me. She couldn't cope with all of this, with all the help that I need. The thought of having to care for me for the rest of our lives, she wanted out. She told me that she'd warned you to stay away. Baby?"

"I'm here. I…I didn't want to stay away but I had no choice. I couldn't cause more problems for you. Not after…" The words stuck in your throat.

"After what?"

"Your accident was my fault."

"How?! Why would you think that?"

"If I hadn't asked you to come on the trip…"

"If I hadn't gone on the trip, I might have been hit by a car and killed somewhere else. I could have gone out for dinner and choked to death. Honey, you can't do that to yourself. None of this was your fault. None of it. You hear me?"

"Yes."

"Will you come visit me? They moved me to a facility to do my rehab."

"Does tomorrow work for you?"

"Well, I have a dance competition in the morning and skateboard practice in the afternoon." He quipped. "How about lunch?"

"Lunch sounds perfect." You cradled the phone was Charlie gave you the address.

As far as work was concerned you were having a personal day. As far as your husband knew you were at work. The rehab facility wasn't what you were expecting at all. It was rather homely. The main reception area and the open plan lounge was cheerfully decorated. Flowers and plants were dotted around. It made you feel slightly better about seeing Charlie. All this time you thought he was stuck in some cold, clinical place. The thought of him being comfortable offered you some solace. The walk to his room rattled your nerves with each step.

Even the bright smile and gentle tone of the nurse who escorted you couldn't keep them in check. "He's been talking about you since he got here. I'm glad you could come."

"Me too." It didn't come through in your tone but you really were.

All this time with Charlie being awake but out of reach was oddly just as torturous as the coma. As much as you were nervous to see how he was, nothing could take away from the joy of finally getting to see him again. Well, almost nothing. The sight of Charlie sitting in his room knocked you back. His build was a lot slimmer, though that was to be expected. His muscles had wasted during the time he was inactive. There was a slight scar on his temple. He was sitting in a wheelchair rolled under a table by the window. A therapist sat opposite him, encouraging him through his exercises. He was currently squeezing a small ball. Each squeeze of his hand making his arm tremble with effort.

"Good, Charlie. A couple more." His therapist sounded more pleased than Charlie looked.

A frustrated grimace twisted his beautiful features as he pushed through two more squeezes.

"Done." His therapist smiled. "And just in time for a visitor. I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie."

Both the therapist and the nurse left the two of you alone, closing the door behind them. It was as if the air left with them. There was too much to say and no words would come.

Charlie could feel your hesitancy. "That smells good." He nodded to the bag in your hand.

"Oh. It's Marco's." Having a task to focus on made you feel better. Crossing the room you laid out the take out. As you set the cutlery down, Charlie caught your hand.

"Thank you for coming." He released your hand and turned his attention to the food before he made you too uncomfortable. He knew you blamed yourself for his accident. He knew he wasn't exactly a catch in his current condition so he had no right to expect thing's to go back to where they were between you. You had come to see him, that's all he could ask for.

Charlie tucked into his meal as you picked at your lasagne absently. Your attention was taken by the tremble of Charlie's hands as he cut his chicken. Frustration got the better of him as he dropped the knife down onto his plate.

"May I?" You gestured to his plate.

"You don't have to." He couldn't even look at you.

"I know. I want to." You took up his knife and fork to cut some pieces for him.

"Thank you." He ate a few more pieces before setting his fork down.

"I still can't eat too much. Between my appetite and my jaw."

"Is that normal, after a coma I mean?"

"That part is. It's my legs that they're worried about. There's a chance that there's some permanent damage there."

Tears welled in your eyes. "Hey. I'll take a little damage over the alternative. I'm alive. I'm here with you. I'm pretty damn lucky." His hand had found its way over yours. It was warm and reassuring. He was right. He was here. He was alive. No matter what else was going on, you should be thankful for that.

Soon, your quiet moment of thanks was interrupted by a yawn from Charlie. "Sorry, I usually take a nap about now. Physical therapy can be exhausting."

"Oh. Maybe I can come back another day?"

"Stay? I mean you can stay if you want. I'll let you take a spin in my chair while I'm asleep."

"As tempting an offer as that is. I'd rather stay here with you."

"The bed is big enough for both of us if you want to join me? You look a little tired."

Truth be told, you were exhausted. The night hadn't offered much rest to you. It had only amplified your thoughts. "I am and I'd like that very much."

With some effort, he pushed himself over to the bed. Carefully, he put the break on before putting his feet on the ground. He managed to stand, barely, before falling forward onto his forearms.

"Charlie." You couldn't help but surge forward to help him.

"I'm good." He rolled onto his side. "I'll admit I may have lost some of my grace while I was in the coma. And I usually do get help with this part."

The extent of his injuries hit you. Charlie was the most independent, self reliant man you had ever met. Suddenly, you didn't know what to do for the best. Did you offer help? Would he be offended? Would he think you didn't care if you didn't? Tears welled in your eyes again. "Sweetheart. It's alright. Maybe my joke telling ability took a hit too."

"I just don't know what to do. I want to help you."

"You just being here is helping." He reached for your hand. "Taking my shoes off would help too." He added with a smile.

Laughing you took off his shoes before you removed your own and climbed in with him. In no time at all, the two of you drifted off into a peace nap. It was the best sleep you'd had in a while. The sun was still high in the sky when you woke up. A look at the clock showed that you'd been asleep for a little over an hour.

"Hey, Beautiful." He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Hey, Handsome." You returned his kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was suddenly just like old times. The moments when the two of you were on the edge of something more. All the pros and cons pushing you from either side keeping you pinned in place. After a beat, his lips over yours. The kiss was a little less coordinated, his lips a little sloppy on yours but it was no less perfect. His body moulded over yours.

"God, I missed you." He breathed into your neck.

"I missed you too." Your breath hitched as his hands slid under your shirt. Having his hands on your bare skin lit the same fire it had the first time. A desperate need for him burned away all rational thought. All that filled your head was thoughts of his lips on yours. The path of his hand, running over your breasts then all the way to your thighs to gather the material of your skirt. As he pushed it over your hips. You pushed at the sweatpants. His eager length pressed into your thigh. Pushing your underwear to the side, to slip himself inside you. Every inch filling you felt like heaven to the both of you. For a while you were content just to lie there, intimately joined with him. His first thrust had you calling his name. The second had your fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, wanting to keep him impossibly deep inside you. He was alive, he was with you, you were whole again.

"I love you." You moaned into his lips.

This prompted a few harder thrusts.

"Fuck. I…love…you…I…love…you. Uh.." he panted as he came suddenly. His warmth spread inside you as he filled you.

"Shit. S-orry. I…" his head dropped to your shoulder as he caught his breath.

"It's okay." You kissed at the slight blush of his cheeks.

"Let me make you cum." He raised up off of you, moving to touch you, his hands trembling.

"I'm good." You caught his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "That was still incredible."

"I'm sorry. It's been a while I haven't even been able to jerk off, with…" He lifted his hand.

"Hey. I should take it as a compliment. After all this time, I can still get you so riled up." You lazily kissed the shell of his ear and up into his hairline, noting the new scar on your way.

"Oh, you definitely can. You give me twenty minutes….plus another six months of rehab and I will show you just how much." He playfully returned your kisses.

The tears came to your eyes again.

"I'm just not landing any of these jokes." He pulled out of you, gently replacing your underwear as he did. Dropping to your side, he pulled you close.

"I'm sorry. It's just a lot. I'm sorry. It's not even happening to me and I'm getting overwhelmed. I'm so sorry."

"Baby, that was three sorrys too much. I get it. I've cried, I've screamed about it. I've just had more time to adjust. I cried over losing you. I was a mess. Then I accepted it all. I made a plan to move forward. Then you answered my call and I cried again. They were good tears though."

"Me too."

"Yeah? So I think we've done our fair share of crying. Now it's out of our system, how about we get moving forward? I'm assuming this means that you want to?"

"Oh no. This was just because I can't resist a guy in sweatpants."

"Damn, I've been living in sweatpants. If I'd have known that's all it would have taken I would have sent you a thirst trap."

"Feel free to anyway."

"Seriously, I know this is a lot to deal with but I'm going to get better. I'm working hard. I'll be the man you fell in love with again…"

"Charlie, you are the man I fell in love with. This doesn't change that."

"I can't offer you the same excitement I did before. As you can tell from today, our sex life might take a hit…."

"None of that matters. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Besides you can always send me that sweatpants picture and I can handle my sex life myself."

Charlie giggled like a naughty school boy. "Man, I love you."

Eventually, the two of you moved to get cleaned up. Charlie let you help him into his shower, on the condition that you joined him and he could made you cum at least once. With the help of the shower head he accomplished that while you sat in his lap. Your soft sighs in his ear as you came down from your high tugged at his heart. This is what he wanted. You, happy, relaxed. He wanted this for his everyday life. Marrying Morgan had been a mistake. He'd felt pressured by his family and friends who saw them as a perfect couple. On paper they were, and he did love her at the time, or he thought he did. Their relationship wasn't necessarily bad, just complacent. There wasn't enough love there for them to go out of their way for each other on instinct. It was a conscious effort day. Not like the love he saw from his mom and dad growing up. They always thought of each other. They would put themselves out to do the jobs around the house that neither of them wanted to do. They'd accommodated each other's needs without it being a big discussion. They had a natural rhythm between them. Just like he had with you when you worked together. For the first time in a while his future was bright again.

Helping Charlie around was hard at first but you found a rhythm. Similar to how you were in business and in bed. For the first time in your life, you felt like you had a true partner. Before you left, he let you push him down to the common room. It was no surprise to find that he was quite popular, a few people vied for his attention as you entered. You didn't blame any of them for being pulled to him. Charlie's heart and warmth shone out of him like a beacon.

The drive home wasn't far, it passed in the blink of an eye thanks to you being so distracted by your thoughts of Charlie. The lights were on and Daniel's car was in the driveway when you pulled in behind him. Daniel was cooking when you walked through the door. Following the scent you found him at the stove.

"That smells good." You told him as you hung you jacket in the hall closet.

"I'm glad you think so since it's your favourite." He moved to plate up as you walked further into the kitchen.

Carrying your plates to the table, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as he passed. Setting yours down he motioned for you to sit. "How was work?"

"Fine. Busy as usual." Focusing on your food, you didn't catch the look on his face.

"That's funny because I called your office. They said you were taking a personal day….."

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #charlie snl x f!reader #charlie snl

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soup--enjoyer · 2 years

Text

I think we need to take a second to talk about the fact that Guillermo is such good plus size representation. I cannot properly express the joy I feel when I turn on the show every week and see him. Like I know plus size characters aren’t entirely uncommon these days, but even now in 2022, it’s rare for them to be such a big part of the narrative or to be actually well written people or get a satisfying arc that has nothing to do with their appearance.

And Guillermo does that!! As a heavy person myself, I can’t tell you how many pieces of media I’ve seen where everyone is conventionally attractive and thin (a lot of the other WWDITS characters also don’t fit in with that, but that’s a post for another time) and so whenever I see someone with a body type similar to mine as a central character it makes me immeasurably happy (: Here are some of the things about Guillermo I think are well done in regards to him being plus size:

-Even though he’s belittled and made fun of a lot, nobody ever goes after him for his weight or appearance when in other shows that would be the punchline of a lot of the jokes

-Going along with that, nobody ever vilifies him for his weight or acts like it’s a bad thing. The other characters don’t tie his value to it, and no one really comments on it at all (which is a good thing in my book!!)

-He’s not portrayed as bumbling or stupid!! Oftentimes fat characters are there just for comic relief and that often involves them being clumsy, but that’s not the case here

-He’s also not portrayed as slovenly or gross, which is another common trait

-Nobody ever tells him that he can’t do something because of his weight

-He’s shown as desirable!!! This one in particular is a big deal because it’s very common (even for well written fat characters) to not have anyone think they’re attractive or to not have any romantic prospects but they completely subverted that by having several people actively be attracted to him (The Guide, Nandor, Freddie, and now Marwa). Obviously his arc isn’t romance-centric, but I think the inclusion of this is something that’s really important for people to see!

Guillermo is very well written overall, but the way he’s portrayed as a plus size person is especially important to me, and it’s something I wish I saw people talking about more often!!

#i love him so dearly #guillermo de la cruz #wwdits guillermo #wwdits spoilers #WWDITS #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows spoilers #wwdits season 4 #plus size character #plus size representation #fat character #fat representation

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b0und4gl0ry · 2 months

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You did what you had to do, Casey. Never fucking doubt that.

For the few days I've known you, you've made it incredibly clear that you aren't a bad person.

Also, yes, it sort of was too much, I really wasn't expecting that, and I feel like an asshole for bringing it up. But I'm sure getting that off your chest bound to feel slightly relieving, before anxiety quickly whisked said relief away and replaced it with immeasurable worry probably

I'm sorry you went through that, nobody should have to do that.

I want you to answer honestly, no bullshit, not to me, that's optional. To Yourself, with this question.

Are you okay, Casey?

- Stacey Telenbourgh & Beth Grammworthe

"It's weird, I either tell nothing or I drop all of my shit immediately. I'm probably a dumbass about it. It's not your fault"

"I'm not gonna hold it against you. I was being a bit much"

"Here, I'm gonna go outside for a lil bit"

"and take the edge off, mhm?"

sigh

"Oh, who am I kidding. I'm not doing so hot."

"I'm a cat who lives in a tiny van, trying to run from their own bullshit. I'm just shocked i was so obvious about it"

"It's not like I can go home, and I'm not exactly the best at confronting shit"

"I've fucked up bad this time"

"I'm gonna get some gas station coffee and head forth. I don't have much else to do"

"And some chips, too"

9 notes · View notes

mybiasisexo · 2 years

Text

Entangled - Part 6

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warnings: Language | Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Notes: Firstly, happy belated birthday to the loml 😔 *plays Virgos groove by Beyonce*. Sorry for the delay y'all, its that time of year🚶🏾‍♀️. It feels so good to have yeollie back! Im eager for his solo! But yes, its finally D-Day!!!! Myeon is getting married y'all!!! (in the story not irl....unless 👀) Ive learned that establishing setting is not my forte, hopefully y'all can pick up what im putting down.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you like the chapter 😊💕

“I can’t do this.”

The words brought you to an abrupt stop in the middle of the busy sidewalk. People brushed past you, sucking their teeth in annoyance, but you didn’t notice them. You didn’t notice anything as you stared blankly at the ground.

“What?” A tall figure loomed over you, long bowed legs obscuring the gum covered sidewalk. He let out a chuckle. “We’ve only looked at one apartment. But, if you’re tired, it’s okay. We don’t have to look at any more today. I’ll reschedule.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Your eyes fell shut as your head began to pound. You started rubbing your temples to try to relieve the sudden pain. It gave little relief. A whimper left your mouth, the small noise caught the man before you’s attention. He took a step closer, the small action had you feeling claustrophobic, like walls were closing in on you, despite being out in the open. Your throat and eyes were burning, chest constricting painfully. These reactions weren’t new. No. You had been feeling like this for weeks. The best way you could describe it was as though you were being pulled deep into the sea. Being dragged along against your will. The current was too strong for you to swim out of, and you were choking, drowning, panicking….

It felt like you were dying.

Inhaling deeply, you worked up the courage to look up at your fiance. He met your gaze, caught the tears shining in your eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. That confusion quickly turned into concern once he registered your distress.

“Chanyeol, I….” Your voice gave out, cutting your confession short. Instead, you shake your head, hoping that was enough to convey your conflicting emotions.

“Baby?” His hand wrapped around yours, the one with the band that represented your forever.

The happiest you’ve ever seen Park Chanyeol was the moment he slid that engagement ring onto your finger. The way he couldn’t help but smile whenever he caught sight of you wearing it never went unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

You were pretty sure you were having a panic attack. The pain in your chest only grew, made it so hard to catch your breath you began to gasp. The effort collected onto the corner of your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks in hot streaks.

It was too late now.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Chanyeol’s eyes bounced back and forth between your own as he nervously rubbed his lips together, stretching them into a line so thin, you no longer could see the pink flesh.

“I don’t think we should do this,” you managed to gasp out. There it was, now out in the air. You took him in, wearily awaiting his response to your words.

“Oh….” He visibly deflated, and for a second you thought he understood what you were saying. But, he perked up immediately. His optimism made you sigh in dismay. “You can just move in with me! We don’t have to get a new apartment. I just assumed–”

“Chanyeol!” You yelled, shutting him up. Your once flaccid fingers gripped his tightly. He winced, but didn’t attempt to pull away. If anything it allowed him to focus more on you.

“Please,” you begged hoarsely. “I…I don’t want to marry you!”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The whole world froze for an immeasurable time, you swore even those around you stopped moving as well.

He just….gawked at you. As though he heard your words, but couldn’t fully make out what they meant. You could see the wheels turning in his head, replaying what you said over and over until they gained meaning. It took some time, but soon his eyes began to flutter and his chest expanded, inhaling a ragged breath. While he breathed in, you exhaled.

You were worried you had broken him there.

“You don’t…? Marry…? I….”

With wide eyes, you silently encouraged him, in the hope that he put two and two together.

“I don’t understand.”

“What is there to not understand?” You asked, frustration sharpening your words. “I don’t want to marry you anymore, Chanyeol.”

“But–but why?”

His heart was starting to break, the situation fully dawning on him. It’s a devastating sight, watching him realize he’s about to lose the love of his life. You wanted to look away, to avoid the pain that would come from the weight of his anguish. Seeing his suffering was just as wounding as if he were the one to break up with you instead. But, you had to push more, had to shove the knife a few inches further so that you could kill this completely.

“I’m not ready. I thought I was, I really did, but I need to be alone–”

“Alone?” He spat out the word, as though that weren’t a part of his vocabulary, which you imagined it weren’t. “But you love me? Why do you want to leave?”

Your lips shook so much it grew difficult to speak. “That’s not enough. I wish it was, but it isn’t. You have to let me go.”

“You want me to let you go?” He asked in disbelief. “We’ve been together for four years! We’re planning on getting married in a few months! You’re all I know! Please, baby, tell me you aren’t serious.”

You remained silent and it only pushed him further into a panic. “We don’t have to get married now, if that’s what you want. We don’t have to move in together. We can wait. I can wait. We can slow down, focus on other things until you’re ready. Just please, please, Mel! Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” you said. Chanyeol shook his head in denial, protests left his lips, but you continued, raising your voice so it overlapped his. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore, Chanyeol! Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t say that!” He cried, tears streaming down his face. Your hands balled into fists, fingernails dug deep into your palms, drawing blood.

Chanyeol fell to his knees, gasping for breath before you, and begged for you to stop. To think about this, to love him back. Love him. Don’t you love him?

He reached for you and you took several steps back and that rejection seemed to snap something inside him.

He immediately stopped crying, face falling in shock. His hands were still stretched towards you, hands open for your embrace. The only sound coming from you both were his ragged breaths.

He stared at his empty hands as though seeing them for the first time, confusion washed over his features. Did you just…deny him? He then took in his surroundings, took notice to the small crowd forming around you, who took in the show with either pity or curiosity. It grounded him, made him aware of the scene he was making. Slowly his arms lowered back to his sides, and he silently got back to his feet, brushing his pants off and sniffing, wiping away the wetness on his red face.

“Let me take you home.” His voice was gravelly and deeper than you had ever heard it. You hated the way it caused your heart to speed up, your lower abdomen to burn with want. That was the opposite of what you should’ve felt.

“Yeol, I don’t think–”

He doesn’t give you time to finish. Quickly, spinning around and heading towards his car without making sure you were even following. You had to jog to catch up with his wide steps. You remained silent. You understood. No one deserved to get dumped in public like this.

Once you were both in his car, he drove off without a word or glance over to you. Even the music remained off, which was never a good sign of his state of mind.

It was only a fifteen minute drive to your place, but it felt much longer.

He parked in front of your complex, turned off his car, and you both just… sat there. You played with your fingers, and tried to ignore the way the streetlight ahead hit your engagement ring, causing the light to bounce around the car. It was beautiful–a great representation of Chanyeol’s feelings for you.

“I’m sorry,” you finally spoke, feeling wetness on your hands. “I hate hurting you.”

His hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. “So, you want to go through with this? You really want to call off the wedding?”

You nodded, albeit reluctantly. “We’re not ready–at least, I’m not. I don’t want to grow to resent you, Yeol. And if we get married now, I will. I know I will. I’m starting to think that I’m not the type to get married, to be tied down. I… want to swim.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, and your heart leapt. It should have made you feel cold, instead it warmed your heart.

You couldn’t help but reach over and cup his cheek and smile ruefully at him. “You’re going to make a wonderful husband, Yeol. Just not mine.”

“Don’t say that.” He ordered again, voice cracking. He reached up and grabbed your hand, holding it firmly against his dampening cheek. For the second time, he broke down. Weeping the loss of his soon-to-be bride. You held him. Let him lean into your touch for the last time, to savor the feeling of his soft skin beneath your fingers. This truly felt like a farewell. Like you were never going to see him again, and if that were the case you wanted to remember all the things you loved most about him while he was still in front of you, even as he fell apart around you.

You sobbed with him. Mourned for the future you both had planned for, the only future you saw for the last few years. He had grown to be all you knew, and it wasn’t as easy as you were making it to leave him.

“I love you,” he cried. “I love you so damn much. I don’t want to lose you.”

That only made you sob harder. Fuck, you loved him too, and you wished you could tell him that. But that would only make it harder for him to let you go, and you needed him to. You both had to move on.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could muster. You repeated that word over and over, hoping he would grasp the weight of your regret.

The sun was in the middle of its descent when you both were able to finally catch your bearings.

Chanyeol let go of your hand, took in the ring and closed his eyes, readjusting in his seat so that he could lean back and stare unseeingly at the darkening sky through his sunroof.

“Now what?” He asked.

“We move on,” you said between hiccups. “I’ll inform everyone in a week. Give you time… to come to terms with everything.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he muttered, still looking at the scramble of stars ahead of him. “I thought you loved me.”

You took a massive breath and let it out in a gust, clearing your throat of the burning ball building within it.

You needed to go before you said something stupid, like you changed your mind. There was just one thing left to do.

You started taking off your ring.

Hands brought you to a stop.

“What are you doing?” It was said so fiercely, you jerked back, startled. When you locked eyes with Chanyeol’s, they were aflame. The fire in his eyes reminded you of the infamous painting of Lucifer.

The intensity had you gulping in fear.

“Keep it,” he said through gritted teeth.

“But–”

“No,” he repeated, just as intensely. “That’s yours. Hold on to my heart for me. I only want you to have it.”

“Chanyeol….” Your eyes clouded over again with fresh tears. There was a change in him. Instead of being the victim, he was being strong, fully coming to terms with what was happening.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, “You said you want to be alone. Fine. I’ll leave you alone. But, I want you to remember that there is someone that loves you. I will always be in love with you. Even now, when you’re leaving me. Even if you find someone new, I will always be here–waiting for you to come back to me.”

“What if I don’t come back?” You can’t help but ask.

“I don’t know if you will,” he said. His authenticity only made you feel worse. “But I’ll be waiting all the same.”

He squeezed your hand. “So, please, Mel, do this last thing for me. Keep the ring.”

Hot tears streamed down your face and he brushed them away with his thumbs before leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

His confession had you sobbing. He was letting you go completely, and it had you regretting the decision. You loved him so much and you leaving at the end of the day had nothing to do with him. This was a selfish choice, but it was one you knew you had to make. You had to do something for yourself for once, and this was it. Putting yourself first wasn't easy, but it was necessary for you to grow into the person you wanted to be.

“I know you still love me,” Chanyeol continued. “But I think I’m starting to understand what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m sorry,” you said for the hundredth time.

He gave you a small smile, taking in your features as though it were for the last time, which was a high chance it would be. “I know.”

That’s enough of a goodbye to you.

You stare at each other for a moment longer, wanting to prolong the inevitable. But, finally you pulled away and opened the door, stumbling out. Holding your hand to your chest, you felt the cool metal of your engagement ring against your burning flesh–the physical representation of his heart.

Despite breaking it, it was the only thing that gave you strength.

It was what got you through the loneliest year of your life.

Until he took it back.

You awake the next day more exhausted than before you dozed off. Cracking open an eye, you see Sehun fluttering around. His dark hair is wet, dampening the shoulders of his white t-shirt that’s tucked into black slacks.

He notices you and grins. “Oh! Good morning.”

You groan as you stretch. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little past eleven. I was just about to wake you. I have to leave here in a bit.”

You sit up, squinting. “I need a shower.”

“You’re free to use mine, although you didn’t bring anything with you.”

You sigh. That means you’ll have to go back to your room.

“There’s breakfast on the table. Eat first. You’ll have just enough time to get ready after.”

You nod while letting out a large yawn. Sehun walks past you and you grab his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He glances down at you questioningly, and you answer with a smile. “Thank you.”

He matches your smile. “Of course. Now go eat.”

He pats the bird’s nest on top of your head before disappearing into his room, leaving while you’re in the middle of eating. You take your time, chewing slowly as you work up the courage to head over to your suite.

Once in the hallway, your eyes are drawn over to the door a little off to your right. The one Chanyeol vanished after kissing you last night. Your breath catches as you remember the feeling of his lips against yours. The way his hands cupped your face. The desperation in his gaze and voice. You shake your head and realize that you had started walking over to the room instead of your own. You let out a shaky laugh, you can’t go to him. Not yet. Not after last night, not before going to a wedding of all things! Still… you find yourself lingering. Hoping, maybe, he’ll open the door. That he’ll find you waiting for him, that you both can finally have the talk you’ve been dancing around since first locking eyes a few days ago.

He doesn’t come out, probably already left for the wedding, and with disappointment sitting heavy in your chest, you shuffle back over to your suite.

It’s quiet when you finally enter. The door to Seulgi’s room is closed, but yours is open. You creep in to find your best friend sitting at the vanity, blow-drying her hair. You lock eyes in the mirror and she jumps from fright.

“Morning,” you wince. “I just have to grab my things to get ready.”

“Are you going to get ready at Sehun’s?”

“Yeah. Thought it would be easier on everyone.”

Seulgi pouts. “We were going to get ready together.”

“That was before Yerim decided to hate us.”

“Actually, she might’ve already gotten over it.” She sees your confused expression and sighs. “Chanyeol stopped by earlier.”

Her words cause you to completely freeze. You don’t even breathe as you register what she just said. You had missed him.

“He did?” You ask, anticipating her answer. That bitter iron taste slowly leaking into the back of your throat.

“Yeah. He came by to talk to Yerim. I guess one of the boys told him what he did last night. He sounded very apologetic. They spoke for a while, but I didn’t hear anything. They went in my room and closed the door. He asked for you as well, but I told him that you weren’t here, and that talking to you probably wasn’t the best idea.”

You hum noncommittally, thawing again. Seulgi is right. Neither one of you are in the best place mentally at the moment. And despite wanting to speak to him privately, you are a bit apprehensive of being alone with him.

“Yerim spoke to me afterwards,” Seulgi continues, unaware of your inner monologue. “It was to ask if I booked her flight, but still. She didn’t sound as angry, so whatever he said must have calmed her down.”

“So, she’s still going to leave?”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, she won’t budge. She will be flying out right after the ceremony.”

“This is all my fault.”

She lifts a hand, halting your words. “Don’t start. You know that it’s not. Now get over here and dry the rest of my hair, I can’t reach the back.”

You can’t help but smile at her bossy tone and walk over, grabbing the dryer out her hands and gladly complying.

When that task is done, you slip into the shower. Once clean, you head back to your room to get dressed, but when you open the door, Yerim is on the other side.

“Oh!” You startle.

“Oh, you’re here….” She averts her gaze, and it kills you a little.

You call after her. “I know you’re still angry, but can we talk? Just us?”

She sighs but relents with a nod, heading back to the room she shared with Seulgi until last night.

She sits on the edge of the bed, you remain standing.

“I’m sorry,” you start. “I’m sorry for not telling you the moment I realized he was your date. I should’ve said something then, but when he pretended to not know us, I don’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was making things up or trying to meddle.”

“It’s true that I most likely wouldn’t have believed you at first,” she says. “But I still believe I was owed that much. I could’ve talked to him about it and we would’ve figured things out together, instead of him making the decision himself.”

“You’re right,” you agree. “You should’ve had a choice. By not telling you, I took that away from you. I just couldn’t bear to break your heart, Yerim. When you came down to the hall that first day, it was obvious how happy you were. I didn’t want to take that away from you. I would rather swallow my pride and jealousy, and endure the pain of seeing him with somebody else, then ruin your joy.”

Yerim’s quiet, pondering over your words. Her next words surprise you. “You were jealous?”

You huff out a laugh. “Is that all you heard?”

She shakes her head, but you catch a small smile. “It’s just weird. You being jealous of me.”

“This whole situation has been weird,” you say.

“That I can agree with.”

It’s silent for a breath and she seems to sober up. “I believe you.”

That’s enough to have your head whipping over to her.

“I believe that you had my best interest at heart, but at the end of the day, he still kissed you and you still lied to me. I can’t forgive you–not now at least. Not when it’s all still so fresh.”

“I understand.” And you did, although it hurt to hear. “I wish things went differently. You deserved better.”

“Thank you,” she says with a watery smile. “You did too, you know?”

You eye her skeptically and she notices, rolling her own. She says your name. “You’ve been caught in the middle this whole time. I don’t know what has been going on between you and Chanyeol, but I know from that kiss, that you both had been holding back for my sake. It wasn’t fair for you to have to do that.”

You think about the other almost kisses and can’t help but to disagree with Yerim’s words. Yes, you were holding back, but it was only a matter of time before you had cracked yourself.

“Chanyeol was never mine.” Yerim’s words catch your attention and you refocus on the broken-hearted girl, who was looking very introspective and mature at the moment. “I know this now. He was here earlier. He apologized for last night and the way he handled us, and it was so obvious, I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it the moment you were back in his life. He never really liked me. Maybe he thought he could, but it seems more like he saw a way to try to forget you and took it. I just so happened to be a willing participant in his charade.”

“He wasn’t using you,” you can’t help but defend.

Her smile turns sad. “He still cares about you, and I have a feeling you still care about him also.”

“Yerim….”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Just be honest from now on. Okay, Mel?”

You groan and she laughs, it rings sincerely.

“What does that even mean, anyway?”

“Long story,” you dismiss with a wave of a hand. “So… we’re good?”

She contemplates for a moment, scrutinizing you before giving you a nod. “We’re about twenty percent good.”

“I’ll take it!” You pull her into a hug before she can fight you off and leave her room in higher spirits.

You get ready with Seulgi and the two of you are back to feeling excited. With the ceremony looming, it’s easy to get lost in your excitement for Junmyeon. Thoughts of Chanyeol are forgotten as you laugh and dance to the playlist Seulgi created specifically for getting hype over the event.

The massive hotel Junmyeon will one day inherit has two wedding venues. One is outside by the shore, while the other is in a building connected to the hotel. He decided to have his ceremony in the latter, which you are grateful for. The sun is beating heavily this late afternoon, and you know your makeup would melt off if you were outside for too long.

The hall is magnificent. In the center is a long elevated runway, the end of it splits into two, so it’s like a T shaped stage. The surface of the stage is a screen, showing a moving image of the sparkling blue sea, it’s waves gently overlapping each other. At the edge of the stage, in the middle of the horizontal top of the T is a white arch with peach flowers wrapped around it with golden vines. At least six chandeliers hang low from the ceiling with icy diamonds softly sparkling against the golden hues of the light. Either side of the runway is lined with rows of chairs all facing the front where the bride and groom will be saying their vows.

Yerim, Seulgi, and yourself sit on the right side of the stage, in the fourth row. The place is filling up quickly, the event close to starting. The three of you sit silently as you wait with baited breath. Why are you nervous? You don’t even know, but your foot keeps tapping restlessly and you can’t stop wringing your hands.

Finally, the lighting dims and the orchestra from the dinner when you first arrived starts playing. Everyone turns to the double doors that open at the foot of the walkway and the officiate walks in before taking her place in front of the arch. Then comes two pairs of grandparents, followed by both Nayeon and Junmyeon’s mothers, both dawning beautiful hanboks in peach and champagne respectfully.

Once they are seated, the music changes and Junmyeon comes waltzing in, a hand in his pocket and a brilliant thousand watt smile on his lips. You can’t help but smile as well, basking in his joy. He acknowledges people in the audience while you all clap at his arrival. When he’s beside your row, you catch his eye and you both share a wink as both Seulgi and you throw him a thumbs up. He pats his chest in gratitude before moving on to the other guests. Seulgi turns to face you and you both lean into each other. Your friend is actually doing it. He’s actually getting married.

Once Junmyeon takes his place in the front, the wedding party enters. You wrap your arms around Seulgi’s waist, resting your chin on her shoulder as you watch the rest of your best friends walk down the aisle. They all look incredibly handsome. All in charcoal two piece suits, white button downs, silky champagne ties, and hair all gelled back, exposing their foreheads. They’re all just as joyous as the rest of you, big smiles on all of their faces. Chanyeol is the last one to enter, probably because he’s the tallest, and you purposely avoid looking at him, knowing you won’t be able to handle him like this. You wouldn’t be able to handle him like this on your strongest day, but after the kiss, it’s just not realistic.

The music changes again, lilting to the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride, and everyone stands and shifts their attention to the open doors in anticipation for the star of the ceremony.

Nayeon glides into the room, her father at her side, and she looks absolutely stunning. She’s wearing a lacy long sleeved gown that floats down into a big train. appearing like fresh fallen snow. Her hair is braided back into a knot, revealing her beautiful face. Her big eyes are shiny with unshed tears, and despite not being that close to her, you can’t help but grow misty eyed. She’s undeniably gorgeous, embodying everything a bride should. You can’t take your eyes off of her.

She makes it to the front, her father passes her hand over to her husband’s and goes back to his seat, leaving the two to smile up at each other, and you’re sure they’ve forgotten there are others in the room.

Your attention gets pulled to the right, where Junmyeon’s groomsmen stand, and you lock eyes with Chanyeol. It’s the first time seeing him after his drunken confession and it knocks the wind out of you. He is the most handsome man you have ever seen, but his beauty is haunting with his perfect features fallen in despair. It’s as though seeing you in this setting reminds him of what he lost, of what could have been. Three years ago, he would be in Junmyeon’s position, staring lovingly at his bride-to-be. Instead, he watches her in the crowd, with longing in his wounded heart.

It’s enough to bring back that bitter iron taste this wedding has shoved down your throat.

“I know,” you mouth to him, and god didn’t you. You give him an understanding nod and that seems to be enough to console him. He sucks in a breath, finally blinking away the strong emotions of regret and helplessness, and turns back to his friends.

Now that the couple are at the altar, everyone sits down, allowing the event to proceed.

The ceremony is quick. The two share their vows. Nayeon’s is sweet and she barely gets through them, nearly bursting into tears every few words. Junmyeon’s is cheesy, riddled with dad jokes, but there is no denying his devotion to her. Baekhyun and Chen, who both minored in choir, sing a few songs for the newlyweds that only make you even more emotional. After that, the couple turn to the crowd, bowing before you all. Nayeon lowers her head, but Junmyeon gives a deep bow, falling onto his hands and knees to press his forehead to the stage. Then they walk to the tail end of the stage and finally share their first kiss as husband and wife. Junmyeon, ever the showman, dips Nayeon and the crowd hoots and cheers for them. It’s all very sweet.

That marks the end of the actual ceremony, so they head back to the arch and take pictures with guests for about twenty minutes. Everyone wants a picture with the newlyweds. Yerim doesn’t wish to, but both Seulgi and you are practically forced to by the boys. You both get on the stage and catch the way Nayeon takes in your matching champagne colored dresses with dismay before quickly brushing it off.

Just because you weren’t in the wedding didn’t mean you weren’t going to show your support. You are also close friends with Junmyeon, so he may have let it slip what color the boys will be wearing, hinting that you both should maybe get dresses in that color as well.

You shimmy up to Sehun, who holds you close, and smile at the camera. The whole college crew gets a bunch of pictures together and it is filled with laughter and silliness, as it always is when you’re all together.

Once you’re done with the photo op, you head back over to the ballroom, where the reception is being held. Seulgi and Yerim break away to go to the hotel room so that Yerim can leave, her flight is in a couple hours. Seulgi tells you she’ll be right back. You want to go with them, but don’t want to agitate Yerim any more than you already have, so you instead enter the room alone. None of your friends have arrived yet, so you just awkwardly stand by the food, not really hungry. You take in everyone present and get overwhelmed with loneliness. It’s not too long though, before the groomsmen all enter. You chuckle when the crowd applauses at their arrival, the mini celebrities.

Jongdae finds you quickly and makes his way over.

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” He asks. You attempt a smile, having little faith in the strength of your voice, and shake your head in answer.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. You shake your head again. He furrows a brow. “Where’s Seulgi and her sister?”

You shrug and clear your throat, trying to tell him in so many ways what’s going on. He takes a pause, eyes roaming your face and posture. You aren’t sure if he catches on, but he must have seen something because he nudges your shoulder and gently grabs your wrist, pulling you over to a table already inhabited by Jongin and Baekhyun.

It’s not long until the newlyweds make their grand entrance, and soon after a DJ starts playing fun music and the ballroom lights dim, allowing for a little laser show to bounce shapes across the walls. The tables are situated in such a way that allow for a makeshift dance floor in front of the DJ table. Sehun arrives with a whole tray of champagne and hands them out. Seulgi makes it back just in time to join the toast.

“To us,” Sehun murmurs simply. You all gently clink your glasses together, basking in the love you all have for each other.

“Is she gone?” You finally find your voice to ask Seulgi after taking a sip of the obviously expensive drink.

She nods, exposed shoulders falling. “She didn’t want me to wait for her. She said she’ll text me when she makes it there.”

You rub her back and she leans her head onto your shoulder. You take in your dapper friends. “You all did so amazing, and look very handsome in your suits.”

“The best groomsmen ever,” Seulgi adds, throwing them a finger heart.

“Why, thank you,” Baekhyun says, smoothing his suit jacket.

“We’ll keep the suits for the next wedding,” Jongin adds.

“Which will probably be Jongdae at this rate,” Sehun says.

Jongdae laughs. “Hey now, let’s have this baby first. Then we can start talking about marriage.”

“Should we bet on it?” Baekhyun asks, smiling conspiringly.

Jongin groans. “You never play fair.”

“You’re no fun. The only one that ever plays with me anymore is Chanyeol.”

“Where is he anyways?” Seulgi asks, lifting her head off of you so that she can continue drinking.

“Around here somewhere,” Baekhyun says, tossing a hand dismissively. You surreptitiously glance around, but don’t see him. You try not to show your disappointment.

“He was helping the crew put away chairs before I left the venue,” Sehun reveals.

“That’s nice of him,” Jongdae says.

“Always such a sweetheart.”

“I thought he was an asshole?”

“He’s a sagittarius,” Seulgi shrugs. That’s enough of an answer for you all. You get the suspicion that he’s being ‘nice’ as an avoidance tactic and you’re jealous you didn’t think of it yourself.

Another twenty minutes pass, and even though you love being around your friends, you just want to be alone and sulk. Now that the wedding is officially over, you can’t shake off that dark rotten feeling sitting heavy in your gut. There are so many negative emotions swirling around you, darkening your aura, and there’s only one other person that you feel you can talk to about it, but aren’t even sure if he wants to.

The others have been drinking and some have worked up the courage to get on the dance floor. The groomsmen really know how to put on a show. The crowd instantly cheers, glad to see that people are starting to let loose. You’re thankful to see Seulgi join them, she’s honestly one of the best dancers in the group, and she needs to let loose right now.

The only person that sits at the table with you is Sehun.

“I think I’m going to go,” you tell him, trying to act regretful.

He takes you in quietly. “I’m glad you stayed for this long. I didn’t think you would come to the reception.”

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, but he gives you a smile full of pity as an answer.

“You look beautiful, by the way. It was smart of Junmyeon to tell you the color. I did notice that Yerim didn’t wear it though.”

“She’s not one of us….” You let the sentence trail off, catching how defensive you sound.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges around the rim of his flute. “She’s not.”

You study him for a moment, taking in the way he turns away from you to watch your friends dance battle. You want to leave, but find yourself hesitating, waiting for Sehun to say what he wants to say.

“What are you waiting for?” He asks instead, turning back to you. “Go before they notice. If any of them catch you, you won’t be leaving this reception until we all get kicked out.”

You grin gratefully before quietly slipping out. You feel bad for not saying goodbye to Junmyeon, but you’ll see him again some day. Plus, you know he won’t hold it against you.

The lobby is empty when you go to hit the up button on the elevator and rub your cold bare arms as you wait for the doors to open. Once they do, you climb in, hit the floor number, lean against the corner and wait for the doors to close, trying to keep your mind clear of any thoughts.

Right as the doors are closing, someone sticks their hand out, causing them to open again. Your heart both plummets and soars as Chanyeol rushes in. He locks eyes with you and freezes in shock, not expecting you of all people. He catches himself quickly, throwing you a wistful knowing grin. “Couldn’t stomach it either, huh?”

Just like when Jongdae found you at the reception, you can’t find your voice, only an itchy feeling you can’t scratch. His presence brings on an onslaught of emotions that get caught in your throat, choking you with the overwhelming feeling of longing and hurt and regret and frustration and other things you can’t instantly place.

He swallows thickly at what he sees in your expression, and turns away from you, going to press the button to his floor, only to be reminded you’re both heading to the same place.

The doors close, trapping you in with the one person that’s been on your mind constantly since you stepped foot onto this island. The elevator is thick with tension, the silence almost overbearing, causing you to sweat a little. It’s full of all the things you both want to say to each other, full of things you’ve never been able to say to each other. You want to start rambling, to fill the silence that is only awkward because you’re making it that way. Your chest is heavy with all that you need to tell him piled onto it, but you find that you can’t seem to find the right words, despite everything. You dare a peek and a squeak leaves your mouth when you catch him already looking at you. He seems to be just appraising you, taking advantage of having you this close to him after such a long time. The moment your eyes lock, he straightens to attention, letting you know that he’s willing to listen to whatever you want to say.

How he knows that’s what you want is beyond you, but you’re relieved to know he’s allowing you this.

Unfortunately, you still can’t seem to vocalize the millions of thoughts running through your head.

There’s a ding and then the doors are opening, letting all the tension out with it like a deflating balloon. You make your way out. Chanyeol trails a few steps behind you. The heat of his gaze stiffening your shoulders as you make it to your room.

Once you arrive at your room, you find yourself hovering, unable to pull out the key to unlock the door. Chanyeol walks past you, towards his own room, and you swallow down the disappointment flooding your mouth.

You finally reach into your bag to grab that key, but the sound of urgent footsteps catches your attention. Chanyeol rushes back to you.

“Do you, uh, want to come to my room?” He asks, avoiding your gaze. Your heart leaps as you watch him scratch the back of his neck.

The word is leaving your mouth before you can even contemplate.

“Yeah.”

series m.list | main m.list

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taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey

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selfundiagnosed · 7 months

Text

Ignore and disassemble childish mental mind game traps in front of you and go im sorry we are all these flawed human beings stuck like this. The bar is no longer right underneath me. i dont care about others flaws anymore. Its too complicated to justify putting energy into an emotional reaction. the emotional reaction is glaring compensation for a guilty conscious and being in denial of doing the exact same complicated, arguably bad thing in the past. dont burn someone at the stake because you will never live up to your own immeasurable standards and when you inevitably fuck up it will fuck you up and it becomes unhelpful to you, the people you love, the people who love you, and the people you have no choice but to be around every single day. It makes you a lot less miserable. come at every mistake you confront assuming the best possible lead up to the mistake; come from the perspective of how YOU could have made that exact same mistake under the right circumstances and ask yourself if you’d want to be given idk a Little grace to make mistakes? If you have ever made a mistake and been given that grace, while accepting full well that the other party had every right not to, it can be the most motivating unexplainable feeling of gratitude. if you can offer a little bit of relief with no sweat off your back, i think its worth it. i believe rejection and social isolation creates stagnancy in the growth of people who honestly just need to know the extent of the consequences of their actions on the world around them, because many people really just don’t understand why something is wrong until they see the full gravity of the situation. a lot of people, when left in the dark, have to use their own imagination to fill in the gaps and we as people tend to let ego do that for us! which NO ONE is above doing, irregardless. have some compassion for people exhibiting their flaws because we all hide our own until the perfect storm brews. i have watched myself read between the lines, jump to conclusions, assume the worst, and indulge in my cognitive distortions too many times in my life when in reality i wasnt as deeply effected as i wanted to be— i found things that justified my desire to be resentful and angry. imaginary shit. and when im out of it and i see other people doing it i can only feel compassion and sadness. it makes me sad. if it isnt so serious on you why make it so serious????

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sloelimbs · 11 months

Note

Since you’re asking for requests, lets see you work your magic with the words “rain” and “hair” for Eddie and Chrissy.

jumping in again to signpost towards my askbox for requests! notes: byler as a side pairing (mentioned) and tw for loss of a parent.

The night before her wedding, Chrissy seriously considers what would happen if she just made a run for it. It’s an option. After all, she’s not a teenager anymore. She’s not a cheerleader anymore. She’s changed in immeasurable ways and she’s spent her whole evening alone thinking about them. She’s braver now, so why is the instinct to run? From the end of her hotel bed she’s staring at her shoes for tomorrow. They’re Louboutins. She wore them on her twenty-first birthday, and to Corroded Coffin finally playing the Garden, so they’re special to her. It was the same year Doctor Feelgood charted at number one, and so it had been a good year for the boys.

From her shoes her gaze drifts to the mirror. She’d had longer hair then. Chrissy had cut her hair pixie-short after her mom died, and breathed out a sigh of relief. Hair holds memories. This new hair only holds him, and her friends, and her daddy laughing with the not-so-little ones over beer and chips at so many barbeques. Will and Mike, who’d have thought? Maybe trauma draws them together so tightly that they’re inseparable, now. That goes for all of them. The whole Party, and the adults beyond. Why, Joyce and Mr. Hopper are sleeping just down the hallway from her, and she doesn’t even know them that well.

And then, somewhere else here… Eddie is sleeping. Probably. She hopes so; they have to be at the altar in five hours, and if she’s not running away then she’ll be annoyed if he oversleeps. She should sleep too, but she thinks that if she lays down then that strange seasick feeling will come back. What if this is a huge mistake? What if this is the thing that changes her too much? Chrissy gets up and pulls her robe on - BRIDE across the back courtesy of Robin’s talent with a sewing machine - and scrubs her hands through the curling bob that now sits on her head. Eddie combing his fingers through it over lunch, peeling strands off of her cheeks when they’ve gotten caught in the rain… How long could she feasibly grow her hair before she started to get annoyed with it? How much of Eddie’s touch could she keep with her at all times?

Just as her fingers touch the door handle - not running, just going for a walk - there’s a knock against the wood. A soft little tap which she wouldn’t have heard if she’d been asleep.

“Chrissy?” Just as gentle, barely above a whisper. “It’s me. You awake? I saw your light was on…” Trust him to know which window was hers. She smiles to herself, even though he’s demonstratively not sleeping.

“You should be in bed, Eddie. Where’s Uncle Wayne? He’s supposed to be keeping you contained.”

“I’m an animal, baby. I can’t be tamed. He fell asleep like two hours ago, I’ve exercised remarkable self control in waiting this long and I both deserve and demand a treat. Lemme in. Goodnight kiss.” Well, what can she say to that? Chrissy opens the door and grins at him; level, because he’s crouched to her height with his eyes closed. “See? I’m not looking at you. No bad luck for us, Mrs. Munson.”

“No.” She kisses his nose first, for good measure. “Only easy breezy days with plenty of beer and guitar strings, baby.” He closes the door behind him as he presses her back into her room and opens his mouth to hers.

#hellcheer #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #serasvictoria #i REALLY ENJOYED MYSELF with this one!!! thank you my love!!!!#straight up fluff tbh

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mirahuyooo · 1 year

Note

Can I request 010 with Jin 🤗🤗 thank you 😊

And happy four year anniversary to you 💕

010. “I saw you in my dreams again. It feels so real.” + kim seokjin

— Though time burdens Kim Seokjin with a curse, he’s glad to have met you in most of them.

word count: 1,039 contents: ANGST, bittersweet stuff, one-sided pining, a meet cute (??? does it count lmao), timey wimey things (stuck in a time loop), poor jinnie needs a god damn rest he just wants to save his friends and be with yn aww, based on the Bangtan Universe AU (lmaoo really takes me back ✋😩) pairing: kim seokjin x reader

[masterlist] | check out more of [Four Years with Mira]!

A/N: thANKS SO MUCH ANON!! Ur very sweet, so I wanna apologize bc the only theme I could think of for this prompt is an ANGSTY one AWHHAHAHA i hope y’all like this one! 💗💕💖

Time is a curse for Kim Seokjin, damning him to repeat life from the same day every time a crack forms in reality. Exhaustion weighs down his bones, even if to the world around him, he’s only waking up from long hours of sleep. He hasn’t felt relief in a long time—doesn’t remember how it feels either.

Losing count of how many turns the clock has reset, alternate timelines bleed into one another in a disarray of bittersweet endeavors and immeasurable grief. Seokjin reminds himself yet again who he’s doing all of this for—would carve it into his skin if he could.

His friends, who were a gaggle of rambunctious boys that made his dull years in high school so full of life.

His friends, who he had to see hurt, die, or lose hope at nearly every turn, and fail to save.

His friends, who were trapped in perpetual tragedy, almost like he was.

Fate is cruel, Seokjin knows that now very well, even as it gave him you—the other reason at the heart of his perseverance amidst the tantalizing journey he’s made numerous times. He doesn’t remember when, exactly, but during one turn, where he was left in despair and lost his footing on the meticulous course of events he had to enact for everyone’s sake, Kim Seokjin meets you in the bustling nightlife of Seoul. His car broke down while chasing Yoongi’s whereabouts, and the heavy rain soaks him to the bone, until you offer him your umbrella and help.

It had been a blissful life while it lasted, you helping him in his endeavors with what you could after seeing his desperation to save his friends. Even then, in other timelines you always managed to be there for him and the others in one way or another. (Seokjin fears sometimes if he had dragged you into this curse in some shape or form—if your life had been laced with the same poisonous tragedy that had sullied them all.)

He never did get to tell you he loves you, what with him only ever being the one with the knowledge of the times beyond whatever reality he spends with you. All he ever has left of you is in his memories—memories he miserably clings onto ever since it came to him how easily he can start to forget.

His body imprints its shape on his bed as he stares at the ceiling, remnants of a moment long passed etching the image of you in his head. “I saw you in my dreams again,” his voice is airy, barely there, just like his mind, as a sigh leaves his lips. “It feels so real.”

Seokjin longs for the day he could finally—finally—set everything right and spend the rest of his life in a reality finally fulfilled, where all his friends are safe and sound, and they meet you as the love of his life after he properly pursues you as his.

Until then, he and you are strangers crossing the streets of Seoul past one another.

Until then, he’ll work on finding the map of the soul and solve this once and for all.

Until then, he’ll keep you in his memor—

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!”

In spite of his tall build, Seokjin nearly topples over as he staggers forward at the force that crashes into him on his way to the burger joint. Turning around to see who did it, and lo and behold, the universe had summoned the one person he had spent most of his morning thinking of.

Your hair’s gotten a bit longer this time around, tucked behind your reddening ears as you look up at him with wide eyes after picking up your umbrella from the pavement. In spite of being lost in your eyes himself, Seokjin curses that damn cosmic cat for bringing you two together when he’s trying to set his mind straight to the solution.

Words elude the both of you for a moment, until the light droplets of the oncoming rain signaled you to put the umbrella over both your heads, something that reminds Seokjin a little bit too much of the first time you met.

Practically burying yourself behind the same, big black jacket he remembers seeing you first in, you sheepishly smile up at him—a bright sight amidst the otherwise gloomy weather. “This is going to sound awkward, but I swear this is genuine,” you purse your lips as you mull your words over. “Have I seen you anywhere before?”

For a moment, Seokjin buckles at the flicker of recognition amidst the curious confusion in your eyes, his heart thrumming wildly against his ribcage like it was about to get out of its constraints and scream Yes! Yes, you have, and you’ve taken my heart since then!

Yet, remembering heartache and the shatter of time, he reigns himself in to save both you and him the pain. “No, I don’t think we have,” he smiles, bittersweet as ever. (He wonders if a part of you—even the slightest bit—could tell.)

“Right, forget I asked,” you wave your embarrassing statement off with a forced chuckle, as you then give him a slight bow in apology. “I’m sorry again for bumping into you like that,” you say, as you look up at the murky clouds overhead promising rain. “Will you, uh, be alright in the rain?”

It hurt to simply shrug back and stay nonchalant when all he wanted was to stay under the umbrella with you and pry about what made you think he was familiar. He adjusts the cap on his head, while a part of him treacherously prays for the light rain to come down harder. “No worries. I’m almost where I needed to go, anyways,” he tells you, almost dying at the fact that this is where the conversation will end.

“Alright, then,” you hum, almost as hesitant to go as he was. In the end, however, you bid him goodbye. “I’ll get going then.”

Seokjin is more resolved than ever as his heart breaks seeing you go. No matter how many dreams and memories come to haunt him, he’s going to put an end to this—for himself, for the boys, and for you.

#happy 4 years to me writing shit <3 #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts writing #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts angst #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin drabbles

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saellefanwork · 6 months

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

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Chapter 12: A demon's vow

Kyojuro and Tanjiro locate Kanoko's hidden hideout in an abandoned temple. Surprisingly, the demon displays complete control over her senses and shows no intention of resisting. The Flame Hashira, conflicted yet determined, confronts Kanoko with questions before fulfilling his duty to end her life. However, Tanjiro refuses to let his senpai kill her.

Author Note: This is the last chapter of this Arc.

It's a bit longer than the previous ones… Sorry? Maybe you don't actually mind, lol.

I try to keep my chapters under a certain length for rythm's sake, but sometimes I fail miserably.

After witnessing his death multiple times, the sight of Kyojuro alive and relatively well brought immeasurable relief to your heart. His fierce gaze was fixed on you, and even with the fresh scar that stretched across his left eyelid, his beauty and intensity remained undiminished. Though your trained eye could discern that he had not fully recovered from his harrowing encounter with Akaza and you, his posture and combativeness were as impeccable as ever.

It was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. His radiant presence dominated the room, capturing all attention.

Although he didn't show it, the Hashira was slightly unsettled by your appearance. You had managed to conceal your demonic features completely. Unlike your previous confrontation, you emanated an aura of perfect composure. You were dressed in a neat, neutral kimono and hakama pants. Except for the color of your hair and eyes, which refused to return to their natural state since your transformation, you looked so much like your human self...

Pushing aside that thought, Kyojuro tightened his grip on his katana, ready to draw and behead you in a single motion.

"Kamado... Does she emit the scent of human blood?"

"Ah, yes... But it's not quite like the other demons."

"I haven't killed any humans to satisfy my needs, if that's what you're asking. I obtained blood from a medical center, and I only hunted animals alongside that. But it doesn't change anything about my sentence, does it, Kyojuro?"

The hardened gleam in the Hashira's eye, more threatening than the edge of his Nichirin sword, confirmed your suspicions. Kyojuro's usual appearance and personality evoked fire and sunlight, a warm and reassuring presence. But now, facing him as a demon, you understood that he embodied the promise of purgatory above all else. It was the last vision your grandmother had when she faced him, the gaze you had been avoiding throughout your years of demon hunting far from him. And now, it was directed at you.

The kiss you shared under the cherry trees now felt like a distant memory... And yet, despite Kyojuro embodying your dreadful punishment, you couldn't hold any resentment towards him. When you made the fateful choice to become a demon, you knew it could lead to a confrontation with a Slayer's blade. In a twisted way, it was fortunate that your revenge plan had carved out an alternate path where Kyojuro would survive long enough to be the one delivering that fatal blow.

"Why, Kanoko? Why did you accept the transformation? You knew I would come after you if you became a demon. When did you forsake your humanity? Did you encounter Muzan or one of the Twelve Kizuki during your mission?"

"That's not it. I was still human when I returned to Komazawa in early July. I waited for you for several days under the cherry trees where we had parted ways, but... in my reality, an alternate timeline, you never returned... Your crow brought me the devastating news of your demise against Akaza. Losing you was... unbearable. As I was pursuing Akaza, a doctor who has broken free from Muzan's control offered to turn me into a demon to acquire the power I needed to destroy a Kizuki. I accepted, because I was determined to exact revenge upon the one who had torn you away from me. The transformation was successful... and I discovered that my Demon Blood Art allowed me to travel back in time... That's when I realized I could do more than just seek revenge, I could change your fate, Kyojuro. I failed multiple times, and in my last attempt, I lost control and ended up hurting you, for that I can't apologise enough... But I am grateful that everyone now stands here alive."

Both Slayers stood there, stunned and speechless, as your words sank in. Tanjiro's heightened sense of smell and Kyojuro's astute observation and instincts, confirmed the authenticity of your story. Yet, accepting the truth presented before them was no simple feat.

Tanjiro was the first to react, his smile returning. "Ah... thank you for saving Rengoku-san, then! Losing him would have been devastating... both for his family and the Kisatsutai!"

"I never wanted any of this," the Hashira retorted with a somber tone, his hands still tightly gripping his weapon. "I would have died content, knowing I had fulfilled my duty as a Pillar. You, above all, should know that, Kanoko. Death is the natural order for us humans. It's what sets us apart from the demons. And more than anything, I would have preferred to meet my end than to see you transformed into one of those creatures."

His declaration pierced your heart, and you bowed your head, as if struck by a blow. It took all your willpower to hold back the tears welling up in your eyes. You knew you didn't have the right to cry. You had to bear the weight of your choices with dignity.

"I understand, Kyojuro..." you replied. "I am deeply sorry for disappointing you. However, I believe you still have much to accomplish. The Kisatsutai still needs your strength and leadership, for Muzan and the Upper Moons are still a threat. Your brother and father need you by their side... As for me, I would rather face your hatred and die by your sword than live in a world without you."

"Be careful what you wish for," he responded, lightly unsheathing his katana with his thumb. The clicking sound resonated in the room.

"Rengoku-san!" Tanjiro exclaimed, horrified.

"Do what you have to do, Kyojuro," you told him with a resigned smile.

With a powerful leap, the Hashira swiftly moved past his junior, who had been on the verge of intervening, and closed in on you in a single bound. Although you could have slowed down time using your Breathing technique and evaded him, you let him pin you against the stone platform. His blade was pressed firmly against your neck, drawing blood from your exposed skin, but he hadn't decapitated you.

Your gaze locked with his crimson and golden iris. He was so close that the red strands of his hair cascaded over your face. Even though your instincts urged you to escape from this man who threatened your life, you refused to struggle, leaving your throat vulnerable until he found the strength to decapitate you. Should you tell him that you loved him before your life was taken? He probably already knew; beyond your kiss under the cherry trees, your actions had spoke volumes. You would have wanted to confess before you met your fate, but you feared he would interpret your declaration as a feeble attempt to weaken his resolve. In order to grant both of you the most honorable ending possible, you decided to remain silent, tenderly gazing at him, wanting to carry the memory of his face with you into hell.

For the first time in his life, the Flame Pillar hesitated. Never before had he faltered in his determination to vanquish a demon. Even during your confrontation on the Mugen Train, he was ready to end you. But that was a different circumstance—back then, you had lost control and acted with cruelty. Now, as he looked at you, calm and composed as ever, memories of your seven years of friendship and unspoken love flickered through his mind. Could he truly bring himself to coldly execute you while you made no attempt to defend yourself, and live with the guilt?

Of course, Tanjiro had no intention of letting him find out. The boy rushed towards you and grabbed his master from behind, trying to loosen his grip on you. Despite the boy's impressive strength, he proved no match for the Hashira, even in his injured state. A vein of effort appeared on Kyojuro's forehead, but he didn't move an inch.

"Please, don't do this, Rengoku-san! You owe her your life, whether you like it or not! Doesn't your honor dictate that you spare her, especially if she hasn't committed any crimes and is not resisting?"

Kyojuro remained silent, the edge of his sword still pressed against your throat. His aura was threatening. Although intimidated, the young Slayer continued to defend you:

"I will vouch for her, just as Tomioka-san did for Nezuko! If she kills a human, I will slit my belly open. I will also give her my blood whenever she needs it! Think about it, the Master didn't instruct you to kill her and allowed me to come with you, knowing I would try to balance out your initial decision. He left the choice to you, telling you to listen to your heart! As you said during my trial, when a life is taken, nothing can undo it. I can sense that you don't want to kill her. You feel betrayed, angry, and saddened, but I know that you haven't completely lost all hope in her... We could work together to turn them back into humans, her and Nezuko!"

A glimmer of tears formed in your eyes, but you managed to hold them back. Even if he were to fail, you owed so much to this boy, who was doing his everything to help you despite not knowing you at all... his kindness, compassion, and courage touched your heart. You hoped his noble spirit would be rewarded one day by allowing him to save his sister.

His gaze burning you, Kyojuro finally gritted between his teeth.

"I should have met my demise that day, it was my fate. You should not have interfered."

"I should have died as well when my grandmother turned into a demon, Kyojuro. And yet, you intervened. You saved my life."

"I merely fulfilled my duty. I did not defy the natural order with my actions."

"Is it so different? I can manipulate time just as you wield your Flame Breathing. I saved you because my abilities granted me that opportunity, just as you rescued me because your own capabilities allowed it. I have no regrets, Kyojuro. If you must kill me for it, then so be it."

His blade sank slightly into your throat, causing more blood to flow onto the slab, and you grimaced in pain as you felt the Nichirin steel sear your demonic flesh. Was he planning to inflict a slow death on you as punishment for your actions? Tanjiro was shouting things that you could no longer hear, the blood rushing in your ears.

The fatal blow never came. The pain stopped. Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as the Hashira straightened his posture, sheathed his sword, and wordlessly departed from the shrine, his countenance unreadable. However, he didn't go far; you could still sense his presence pacing in the courtyard.

You slowly sat up, your hand on your throat where the wound had closed, incredulous that you were still alive. The young Demon Slayer dropped to his knees before you, overwhelmed with relief to no longer be defying the Flame Pillar.

"Thank you, Kamado-kun," you said to him. "I would have died without you, and perhaps Kyojuro as well if you hadn't stopped me near the train. I will strive to not let you down." You bowed deeply before him, your forehead touching the ground.

"Oh no, there's no need thank me!" He hurriedly reciprocated the bow. "I could sense that your intentions were pure! Rengoku-san and you have a strong bond, I couldn't let you harm each other without doing anything!"

You offered a faint smile. The sun was rising outside, casting its rays of light through the doors. You resisted the urge to hide deeper inside the temple, not wanting to give the impression of running away. Kyojuro reappeared at the entrance, bathed in the morning glow. His gaze swept past his junior and relentlessly landed on you.

You noticed Kaname's presence on his shoulder. The creature flew off after giving you an incredulous look.

"Even if Kamado is willing to risk his life for you, as Demon Slayers, we cannot allow a formidable demon such as yourself to roam freely. At dusk, we shall bring you before our Master and the other Pillars. Your existence can only continue with their consent."

You didn't argue against it. If you wanted to live and harbor hope for Kyojuro's forgiveness in the future, you had to show willingness.

The Hashira positioned himself on a stone a few steps in front of the platform, arms crossed. Tanjiro joined him, sitting beside him in seiza. Sensing that his senpai was upset with him for intervening, the young Slayer remained silent. As the hours passed, fatigue overcame him, and he began to doze off while remaining in his seated position.

Despite sparing your life for now, the Flame Pillar remained vigilant and watchful. He never let his owlish gaze waver from you. No words were exchanged between you, and his typical smile was absent. A chilling and menacing aura surrounded him, starkly contrasting his usual jovial and warm demeanor. In the past, he would have sit by your side, engaging in lively conversation with his boisterous and enthusiastic voice, his radiant smile illuminating his entire face.

In the evening, the three of you set off together towards the Ubuyashiki Estate. Kyojuro positioned his junior in front of you for the trek, while he trailed behind you like an ever-present shadow, poised to strike should you make any attempt to escape or attack. You did your best to adapt to this icy behavior towards you, attempting to come to terms with the fact that it would be the same for anyone aware of your true nature. However, it proved challenging to accept this treatment from the man who held the most cherished place in your heart.

As you stepped foot onto the estate a few days later, a sense of relief washed over you. The Master and all the Hashira had already gathered, awaiting your arrival. Whatever the outcome of the trial, the uncertainty that had plagued you would be resolved, and your fate would be decided.

It was the first time you met Ubuyashiki Kagaya, and upon seeing him, you understood why Kyojuro admired him so much. Even though he was not much older than you, a timeless wisdom radiated from his being. Overwhelmed by respect, you immediately bowed before him.

"Rise, my children," his gentle voice almost brought tears to your eyes. With one knee still grounded, you raised your head, only to witness the Wind Pillar seize Kyojuro by the collar, his eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. Your entire body tensed immediately, ready to intervene.

"I thought you were going to kill her on sight! Is that the extent of your determination? Some Pillar you are!" The man with silver hair exclaimed angrily.

"Calm down, Sanemi," Kagaya commanded in his soothing voice.

The furious beast reluctantly reased his grip on Kyojuro. The Flame Hashira ignored his colleague and addressed his master directly.

"Oyakata-sama, allow me to introduce you Nagase Kanoko, the last Time Breathing user, and until recently an independent demon hunter," He proceeded to provide a concise explanation of the circumstances surrounding your transformation. Then, he continued with his plea, "Kanoko has not committed any crimes so far, and she possesses the ability to maintain control over herself. Unlike the Kamado girl, she relies on human blood for sustenance, but she is committed to only obtain it from willing donors. Kamado Tanjiro and I humbly request your permission to spare her life so that we may find a way to restore her humanity."

"What interest would the Demon Slayers have in keeping you alive, Kanoko?" the Master asked with a slight smile. His question was not malicious. It was an invitation for you to express your intentions, and convince not only him, but also the assembled audience of your worth.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "If you allow me to continue living, I vow to serve the Kisatsutai as a means to repay my debt to you until I regain my humanity. My Nichirin sword was forged on the very day of my birth, and as long as I draw breath, my sole purpose is to wield it against the forces of evil, even in my current state. I could provide the Corps the intel I gathered during my investigations, particularly about the demonic Cult of Eternal Paradise." you noticed Shinobu's sudden shift in attention at the organisation name.

"What guarantees do we have that you won't betray us at the first opportunity?" Obanai sneered.

Tanjiro intervened, "I believe in Nagase-san and pledge to commit ritual suicide if she breaks her oath!"

"Your life doesn't hold much value to us, kid," Tengen remarked with a disdainful smirk, his muscular arms crossed over his massive chest.

"I, too, pledge to commit seppuku if Kanoko betrays her word and attacks a human," Kyojuro added firmly, his expression unreadable. His brothers and sisters in arms stared at him in surprise. You didn't expect him to put his life on the line, considering his former reluctance to spare you. "Considering her initial motivation to become a demon was to avenge me, does that constitute sufficient guarantee?"

Before anyone could interject, Giyuu calmly added, "I, too, stake my life for Nagase."

The support of the three men warmed your heart. A faint glimmer of hope ignited within you.

Before you could express your gratitude to them, Sanemi pounded his fist on the ground, ready to explode, "Your guarantee is worthless, Tomioka! You already made the same vow for the Kamado girl. Are you going to make oaths for every demon in the vinicity?" he bellowed.

"Is there a limit to how many times I can put my life on the line?" Giyuu retorted with an even tone, casting him a cold glance from the side.

The Wind Pillar hurled a string of insults at him, but the Water Breathing user seemed unfazed by the outburst of rage.

"Enough!" Gyomei intervened, his voice resonating with authority. "None of the lives at stake provide sufficient guarantee. Kamado, Rengoku, and Tomioka are all mortal, while this woman is condemned to live eternally unless decapitated or burned by the sun. We cannot allow a demon who requires human blood to live forever."

You lowered your head, acknowledging the harsh reality. Living with Kyojuro, starting a family, and growing old together... this future that already seemed unlikely at one point had now become unreachable for a monster like you.

Perhaps plagued by similar thoughts, Kyojuro clenched his fists. His remaining eye was fixed on the ground, a mix of emotions swirling within it.

"The Stone Pillar is right," you replied. "I have no desire to live eternally either. I only ask for two years, Oyakata-sama. If within that time I haven't found a solution to regain my humanity, I will let myself burn in daylight. If I fail to keep this promise, you can still kill me without warning," you added, anticipating Sanemi's next retort.

"These conditions seem acceptable to me," the Master stated. "However, I would like to hear the opinions of the other Hashira."

A heated debate ensued among the Pillars. Shinobu wished to spare your life in order to study your powers and gain insights into the Eternal Paradise Cult that piqued her personal interest. Mitsuri was also in favor of you joining the Corps, trusting the judgment of Kyojuro, Tanjiro, and Giyuu. Muichiro abstained, leaving the situation at a deadlock, with four votes for and four votes against. Growing impatient with the lengthy discussion, Tengen changed his stance and voted to spare your life, promising to destroy you himself if you proved unworthy of their trust.

Several additional conditions were established: Kyojuro was entrusted with the safekeeping of your Nichirin sword, which was already in his possession since the train incident. He would keep it with him during missions and be the one to decide when you were allowed to wield it. You were also required to remain unseen by other recruits. Lastly, you were forbidden from wandering without the supervision of a Pillar.

You accepted all these conditions without argument.

"Serve us and prove your goodwill during these two years, Kanoko," Kagaya concluded. "I hope you will find what you're looking for at the end of your journey."

After the trial, Kyojuro had escorted you back to your place, where you were instructed to remain until he picked you up for a mission. Tanjiro visited you once during your seclusion, offering you some of his blood as promised before he departed for a new mission.

Nights passed without any visits, but fortunately, you received letters. Tanjiro and Senjuro sent you their updates, clearly trying to bring you some comfort. Receiving their news definitely warmed your heart. Much to your surprise, you also received a message from Giyuu.

Even though he was only giving you some intel about demons, a dried flower was attached to the letter. It was an asagao, a summer flower that only bloomed under the sunlight... Did he gifted it to you, knowing that you could no longer observe their blossoming? Grateful, you carefully placed the morning glory at the entrance of your notebook.

Kyojuro finally reappeared on the fifth day of waiting. The sun had not yet set. You recognized the light sound of his footsteps before he announced himself.

"Kanoko, we have a mission," he said simply. "Can I come in?"

You took shelter behind the byōbu that adorned your room to avoid the light before allowing him inside. You only revealed yourself again after he closed the shoji completely.

"I'm happy to see you again, Kyojuro..."

He stared at you with his single golden and red eye without responding. Although he seemed less tense than before, there was no trace of joy emanating from him. Without returning your greetings, he placed a box on the ground, similar to the one Tanjiro carried on his back, except this one was adorned with the Rengoku flame symbol.

"Will you be able to fit inside it by shrinking like the Kamado girl does?"

"I will try..."

Using the same technique you used to conceal your horns and claws, you tried to transform your body into that of a child. To your great surprise, it worked without much effort. However, your kimono remained the same size, giving you the somewhat ridiculous appearance of a child who had rummaged through her mother's wardrobe.

"Impressive," commented the Flame Hashira, slightly widening his eyelids. His gaze softened significantly at your new appearance. "So this is what you looked like, when you were a child?"

Kyojuro had only known you at the age of thirteen, while you currently had the appearance of a six-year-old kid. You glanced at the full-length mirror and nodded with a grimace.

"Hmm! I was less cute, though. I was already a little mischievous demon back then."

Your joke, or perhaps your high-pitched voice, elicited a slight smile from Kyojuro despite his somber demeanor. He gestured for you to enter the box, and you didn't argue. When he closed it, you forced yourself not to succumb to the claustrophobia that threatened to overcome you. How did Nezuko endure being transported in such a confined space?

Perhaps Kyojuro sensed your nervousness because he added, "It will probably be uncomfortable for a while. I'll let you out once night falls. We shouldn't attract too much attention if you maintain a human form."

He exited your dwelling and immediately began running. The sensation was dreadful. You preferred not to imagine what it would be like if he started fighting while you were inside that box.

"What is our mission?" you shouted so he could hear you, trying to distract yourself.

"A demon is causing trouble in a nearby mountain. Workers in a mine keep disappearing. Low-ranking Demon Slayers were sent as scouts but haven't returned, so we have been instructed to assess the situation and eliminate the responsible party if possible. I'm still not fully recovered from my fight against Akaza, but I don't believe this is the work of an Upper Moon demon."

"Let's hope so, even though this time I'll be there to fight alongside you."

He didn't respond and didn't resume the conversation for the rest of the journey. Your awful transportation finally ended a few hours later with the sunset, and you could finally come out for some fresh air and return to your adult form. Kyojuro gave you time to adjust your clothes and hair before you both started running again for a few hours, before halting so he could take his painkillers. Kyojuro's lingering pains prevented him from traveling without breaks. Shinobu had strongly insisted that he should take it easy for a while. You suggested setting up a camp, which he hesitantly agreed to.

There was no moon tonight, so the Hashira lit a fire in a pit constructed to cover the light from a distance. He sat across from you and began eating enormous bentos, which you could tell were prepared by his younger brother. He dug in to the food with appetite, although he wasn't as enthusiastic as usual and ate in silence. Smiling slightly, you watched him stuff his face. You were so glad he was alive... that he could eat his little brother's dishes again. You swore to delay his last meal for as long as possible.

He eventually noticed your gaze on him and paused in his voracious eating, chewing while staring back at you.

"Uh... Do you want some?" he asked, looking perplexed. "I didn't offer because I thought human food wouldn't interest you anymore."

"I don't need any, and you're right, human food doesn't really appeal to me anymore. You can finish," you assured him with a smile.

His expression was hard to decipher, but as he looked away and ate more slowly, you wondered if he was saddened by the fact you could no longer eat together.

"Kyojuro... Do you still resent me?" you asked him after he finished the last bite of his impressive dinner.

"Yes," he replied without the slightest hesitation, not even bothering to look you in the eyes. The truth was painful, but you appreciated his honesty. "There are no words to describe how furious your decision makes me. But I admit that we have no good reason to eliminate you as long as you don't commit any crimes. Furthermore, even though I disapprove of your choices, I still feel responsible for your transformation. If I had been stronger, we wouldn't be in this situation. I realize now that I relied too much on my victories. But there's no point in lamenting. I need to train harder and ensure that we find a way to restore your humanity."

Your smile softened. "Thank you for standing by me. I know how much this decision costs you. Does your help mean... that you still love me?"

He tensed up, his thick eyebrows furrowing, and his gaze stubbornly fixed straight ahead.

"I don't want to answer that question," he replied curtly.

"I love you, Kyojuro."

"I don't want to hear you say that! Not anymore!!" he snapped at you angrily, his fists clenched on his knees. A vein appeared on his temples.

You fell silent, stunned by his sudden rage. Kyojuro had never spoken to you like this before. He strangely resembled his father at that moment. It seemed like he realized it too, as his eye widened in horror for a moment, and he made a considerable effort to regain his composure, slightly turning his face away.

"You're still Kanoko... but at the same time, you're not," he tried to explain to you while attempting to control his voice.

"It's okay. You don't have to justify yourself. I wasn't expecting anything special. I just wanted to tell you at least once... because I couldn't do it before it was too late."

He lowered his head, his expression hidden by the shadows and the strands of his hair. Finally, he turned his back to you, and lay on his side on his haori, facing the darkness. You gazed at his back with sadness but decided to respect the distance he was trying to put between you. You could easily imagine the internal conflict he was experiencing. You and he were born to kill demons. It was already a huge stretch that he let you live, defended you in front of his master and comrades, and tried to help you turning back into a human. Asking for more would be greedy. You needed to focus on exterminating Muzan's demons and your quest for a cure.

Only after that... maybe you would have the right to hope for a better future.

Taisho Secret: The asagao ("morning glory") meaning is quite complex. This flower holds medical properties and is believed to bring good fortune and protect against evil spirits. Since asagao only bloom in the day, they are a symbol of hope and new beginnings, but as they are short-lived, they are also the symbol of the Buddhist concept of impermanence. They can also be given as a gift to express one’s devotion and commitment to a loved one.

Following emeraldgaze interesting question about Kanoko's power (on AO3), the next Taisho Secret will explain more about it :)

Don't hesitate to ask questions in the comments! (Praise is also welcome. Why do you think I like Kyojuro? I have a praise kink ofc!)

Next Chapter: "Deceitful dreams"

#rengoku x reader #rengoku x oc #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oc #reader insert #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #time travel #fix it fic #friends to enemies #demon reader #demon oc #demon hunter

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