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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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aeoki · 6 months

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Sandstorm - Pointless Death Game: Chapter 4

Location: Lesson Room Characters: Yuuta, Adonis, Kouga & Rei

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Almost an hour later. ES idol hotel lesson room. >

Yuuta: No! That’s not enough! Oogami-senpai, project yourself into a rabbit more!

Shake your adorable body and jump, jump, juuump…! See, it’s easy, right? ♪

Kouga: Yeah, right! Like I can do thaaaaat! I’m a wolf, not a rabbit!

Yuuta: Don’t be embarrassed! Kouga Oogami! That’s what Sakuma-senpai is also saying!

Rei: …………

Kouga: Sakuma-senpai ain’t even lookin’ over here! Stop spewin’ nonsense, Yuuta!

Yuuta: I noticed you do whatever Sakuma-senpai tells you to do, so I started having a bit of fun doing that…♪

Kouga: You lil’–!

Adonis: Hm. Stop messing around and do it properly, Oogami. And Yuuta, don’t say things that will provoke him.

We’ll take in the performances of other units and show a new “UNDEAD” and “2wink”.

We’re all lacking in one area or another. If we try to do things the way we usually do, we won’t get anywhere.

That’s why we’ll show a new side to us in the video.

That’s what we decided we’d do, right?

Kouga: Yeah. They’ll be copyright issues if we completely copy the other units, so we were talkin’ ‘bout how we’d just imitate their elements, right?

Yuuta: Yeah. That’s why we figured we’d start off with “Ra*bits” first, so we were pretending to be rabbits.

Kouga: Tsk… I bet it must be fun for ya to be copyin’ the young and innocent “Ra*bits”, but they’re the exact opposite to us in our eyes.

Adonis: We get paired a lot with them despite that. I think it’s because we’re in the same agency. Otherwise, things would always be the same-old.

Kouga: Yeah… Both “UNDEAD” and “2wink” have kinda been involved with other units too lately.

In other words, it’s pretty easy copyin’ them ‘cause we’ve had the opportunity to observe and work with ‘em.

Adonis: Right. But we didn’t really do that. It’s mostly because Oogami would strongly refuse every time we tried something different.

Kouga: Huuh? You got a complaint or somethin’? It’s important stayin’ true to ourselves too, ya know?

Adonis: You’re right. But continuing conventional methods will only result in us gaining fame as a rock band like we did in “Nightless City Live”.

If we want to rise even higher, we need to be able to do even more things. We should incorporate new elements but still retain ourselves…

I can’t explain it properly but I think we need to show that new side of “UNDEAD”.

Kouga: Well, I get what ya sayin’. They’ve been recruitin’ people who can do a lotta things recently too. That’s the image a lot of job offers have been givin’.

It sounds nice when you say it’ll open a whole lotta doors.

But the world’s lookin’ for more and more people who can do a bunch of things, so they tend to avoid units like “Valkyrie” who specialise in one area.

Adonis: It’s work. They’d rather have consistent junk food every day instead of eating a luxurious high-class meal on special occasions.

That’s what happens when they’re focusing on profit. Every time there is work, carefully selecting the most suitable idols takes effort and money.

In that case, it would be much easier and quicker to select idols who can do everything since you wouldn’t need to think about anything. That’s probably what they’re thinking.

Kouga: Keh, if they wanna skimp on the extra effort, then there’s plenty of stuff in the world that they can skimp out on.

Adonis: They need to minimise their effort and produce the next product otherwise they won’t be able to keep up with the demand. That must be how they see things – we’re currently living in a severely consumerist society

And idols aren’t considered art in the world right now – it’s a form of business. They want to spend as little as they can investing in them while selling them for a high price.

That’s what’s often seen as “correct”.

Kouga: I don’t like it~ I don’t like it one bit… It’s true you can profit more that way, though.

Adonis: If you don’t like it, then let’s change that.

If creating works crafted by artisans who put their heart into it with extra care is seen as the “correct” way, then…

Things will change. And in order to change things, we need to succeed – to win.

Kouga: So you’re sayin’ we need to twist and bend ourselves in order to grasp that victory?

Adonis: Yeah. First, let’s produce results in “SS”. There is a power – a radiance – large enough to change the way things are if you hold the title of the winner of “SS”.

Kouga: Hmph. Yeah. “Trickstar” are idiots. I can’t believe they let such a huge thing go.

Well, I guess it definitely sounds like something they’d do. I can’t imagine that stupid Akehoshi braggin’ and sayin’ stuff like “We’re the strongest~ We’re the best~”.

Idols are people who always think of their fans first, huh.

Last year… their interests just happened to coincide with the people who wanted to build ES.

But we’re different. Right, Adonis?

We don’t care about the political stuff or the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people – We’re just gonna play the kinda music we like the best!

That’s why I’m strummin’ that guitar and singin’ my throat out! Ain’t that right, Adonis!?

Adonis: Yeah. That’s your view on it and I’m also encouraged by that sort of primitive instinct. Although, I’m ultimately aiming for world peace.

I’m too weak to achieve that right now.

Kouga: Huuh? If you’re weak, then you just gotta get stronger. You’re not fightin’ all by yourself, right?

Adonis: You’re right. I believe I can overcome any obstacled that come our way if we work together.

Of course, that means I also don’t think it’s impossible for us to win “SS”.

Kouga: Yeah, of course! We’re “UNDEAD”, after all!

Adonis: Right. But what’s most important is after we win.

I think “SS” is proceeding based on a future on a far grander scale as opposed to something that’s right in front of us.

It feels as if “Trickstar” last year used their prize as they pleased to build ES’ so-called “utopia for idols”.

But I’m sure things will unfold differently this year.

Those who wish for ES’ growth will surely use the power they’ve gained to do that.

But on the other hand, those who don’t think fondly of ES will definitely use it to destroy them.

There will also be people who want to use it to fulfil their own personal goals and dreams.

It’s quite extreme but depending on who will dominate “SS”, it can definitely affect the future of the idol industry. No, perhaps, it can affect the future of the entire world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#sandstorm

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junkshop-disco · 1 year

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I'm not sure how to reply to your writing asks so I'm doing it here to request 19, 12 and 38 please!

From @magog83

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Sad childhood story time: when I was at primary school, we had to do a thing on Monday where we'd write down what our family did at the weekend. Only my family never did anything, or not anything I wanted to think about or share, so I used to make stuff up. I even invented a dog who was always getting into mischief. I got busted on Parents Evening when my teacher was saying how much everyone enjoyed hearing about the dog's antics and my dad was like.... what dog? we don't have a dog. Far from this putting me off, it precipitated a childhood living mostly in my own head, and frankly, lying my ass off. I was very fortunate to have teachers who saw potential and encouraged me to channel my passion for storytelling into writing. One set up a school magazine just so I could edit it and another got me a job writing for the local newspaper. So by the time I left home, I already had years of experience writing, which meant while I was studying at uni, I made a reasonable living writing jokes, poetry, reviews, PR pieces and press releases, and non-fiction.

I didn't write fiction until I discovered fanfic, and in a lot of ways, it felt like starting again but it's been a really valuable learning experience.

I have no idea where I'm going. I've written at least an original novel a year for the last decade and they're all languishing in various states of edited and finished on my hard drive. I would like to try and get some of it published, but the idea of going through the publishing process is terrifying to me. I go back and forth on how I should approach it, what I should write, what my genre is, what my market it, if I'm good enough, how I might do it with no contacts, how I will handle the inevitable rejection and scrutiny when I am a giant ball of anxiety at the best of times, and deep down I know it's all just a way of avoiding it.

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Confidence would be nice.

Also the ability to spell 'calendar' correctly on the first try.

I can't think of a third so I'll save that for later.

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

I very rarely know what I'm doing but I usually manage to pull sense out of nonsense? I spend a lot of time writing random details or descriptions or dialogue snippets because I think they're interesting or funny, and then at some point during the process, I realise they weren't random, in fact they were germane to what I was trying to say all along. I find that quite weird, that on some level, my brain has a plan but if you asked me to explain what I was doing or why, I wouldn't be able to. It's like I have scraps of ideas and it's only by exploring them I come to see the whole--I'm never really setting out to make a whole thing, it just manifests.

Sometimes people ask 'how did you do that?' or 'how did you come up with that?'

And the honest answer is usually: I have no fucking idea.

Thank you for playing!

#meme me

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fkinavocado · 3 years

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In which you've got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 5 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part 6 (Word count: 4,5K)

“...Y/N!” a confused Emily greeted you at the front door

“Hey, hi! Just came over to collect my car... “ you laughed weekly, a bit out of breath but trying to mask it with fake enthusiasm. You swallowed the lump in your throat and explained “I forgot to get my car keys back before I left yesterday and your dad was kind enough to offer to go get it from where we’d left it near the airport for me”

You could see Harry from behind his daughter all the way in the living room area, his concerned expression quickly morphing into one of his trademark smirks. Yeah. Saved your ass, you’re welcome.

Those window-hopping skills were really coming into handy, now, too, weren’t they? You gave him a knowing look then focused your attention solely on Emily, lest you gave anything away.

“Yeah, dad mentioned that just earlier. We were literally just talking about it, how weird is that?” she laughed and you internally cringed at how close a call this had been. “Hey, come in, sorry to keep you at the door like that!”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll just uh, grab the keys and be on my way”

“Nonsense” Harry finally cut in “Come in, stay a little, don’t be a stranger”

He really wasn’t doing a great job at keeping a neutral face, but you probably weren’t either. Good thing Emily was seemingly more preoccupied with her phone than the two of you exchanging heated glances.

“I should really get going. Wanna avoid the traffic on the way back and all that…”

“Guess there’s no point sticking around if you’re not going to visit with your parents” Emily sighed then grimaced “Derek told me about the whole mess with your folks and them being mad at you for not showing up…”

You froze and glanced at Harry who was now frowning at the realization that you hadn’t, in fact, visited with your parents the previous day “He did, did he? Well. Yeah. It’s… a long story. But yeah, guess there’s no reason not to be heading home. “

After a drawn out moment of awkward silence, Harry cleared his throat “I’ll just bring out your trolley, I hadn’t gotten to getting it to the car yet” he said, his voice grave

“Oh, yeah. Thanks” you nodded, hands folded in front of you.

“Sorry you had to go a whole day without your stuff” the girl shrugged while her father went into the bedroom to get your trolley “Dad told me how you eventually left yesterday since you probably got tired of waiting, him taking his sweet time napping on the couch and all...” she giggled

“Please, it’s fine. Thanks again for having me over the other day, hope you didn’t mind me intruding like that…”

“Of course not! Besides, it turned out fine, since I had to go caroling and dad didn’t have to spend Christmas Eve all by himself. He told me you two even played a board game, and you let him win. I never let him win, so I imagine he must’ve been pretty psyched!”

“Yeah, guess I did, didn’t I” you cleared your throat “Well, thanks nonetheless”

Harry emerged with your trolley and you followed him to the car “Well it’s been nice seeing you again, Y/N! Drive safe!”

“You too, and thanks!”

The girl shut the front door leaving you and Harry in the driveway, him loading your trolley into your truck

“So what did you do yesterday when you weren’t, in fact, visiting with your parents?” he asked, not looking at you while he busied himself unnecessarily with your luggage

“What does it matter?” you shrugged. You got slightly defensive, not being used to anyone giving you the third degree anymore

After a long moment, he finally turned and looked at you properly, shutting the truck “You really running off on me like this?” his voice quiet and a bit apprehensive

“I’m not running off” you scoffed “I really need to be getting back. Got work tomorrow”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it”

You looked at him closely then, this was really bothering him “And what would you have had me do, Harry? Hide in your bedroom indefinitely?” you whisper-shouted

“No” he shoved his hands into his pockets “I was going to drive Emily to her grandparents’, she visits with them for a couple of days on her winter breaks...”

You didn’t even know what that had to do with you “Yeah, well… I still got work tomorrow and it’s already gonna be heavy traffic leaving so late”

He searched your eyes, his gaze shifting from one to the other back and forth until he finally took a few steps backwards “Drive safe, Y/N”

You nodded, averting your eyes and quickly getting in the car. You pulled out of the driveway, not resisting not looking at him just before you drove off, his expression unreadable, but looking into your rearview mirror you could see him looking after you until your car took a turn and his house was no longer in vision.

After having smoked for the entirety of your short trip home, getting back to your “other” home, you decided to start all over again and quit cold turkey this time around. It wasn’t going as well though. Not even a full week in and you were going absolutely mental.

Realistically, you knew this was not the only reason for why you were feeling absolutely miserable.

You’d transferred your father the money to pay off your car loan, and made sure to tell your mother to check his balance but she barely acknowledged your text.

You were still so mad at them for not even giving you a call. Up until Emily mentioned your brother telling her that your parents were mad at you for not making it home for Christmas, you’d honestly thought they’d forgotten all about you.

But no, of course they were the ones that were mad. After not having even told you not to bother going to the airport to pick up your brother who they knew wasn’t even coming! What if something had happened to you on the way? What if there’d been an accident? There were literally endless reasons why you could’ve not made it home that Christmas Eve.

When were you going to get it into your head? They didn’t care. Nobody cared. Nobody.

The fact that you were about to spend New Year’s alone was testament to that. You’d never felt more alone in your life. All your friends had plans, everybody was out celebrating but you flat out refused all of their invitations to various parties.

You were going to be throwing your own party. A pity party.

You made sure to stack up on booze and ibuprofen. The rest was superfluous. The only thing you were regretting was not having gotten any cigarettes. Because you had a feeling you’d be needing them soon. It was all getting a bit too much.

You lay on your bed, lights out, just you and your bottle of bourbon. You’d gotten the same you’d drank at Harry’s the night you met him, and you decided it was worth splurging on for New Year’s. It was really good bourbon. But it also made you really nostalgic.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been obsessing over that last night together. And how could you not? Nothing had ever even come close. But then, you had no idea what happened that following morning, you just knew that, somehow, you’d fucked it all up.

And for what?

He’d been right, you were running away. But why and from what exactly, you had no clue to this day. What was the worst thing that could’ve happened? He would’ve fucked your brains out. Boo-hoo.

You took a chug of your bourbon. The sound it made swishing around in the bottle announced that you were going to finish it before the fireworks hit, so you tried to pace yourself a bit.

You wondered what he was doing for New Year’s. Probably some hot chick.

Another chug.

You huffed. It seemed like such a long time ago, almost like a fever dream. When in reality it hadn’t even been a week since he’d made you come so hard that you thought your vision would go impaired indefinitely. And that was using just his fingers. You were actually genuinely afraid of what he would’ve done using his cock, given a chance.

Had you? -Given him a chance? Did he even want it? He’d sounded like he wanted to take things further. If only you hadn’t blown your chances like an idiot...

You weren’t nearly as drunk as you thought you were going to be by then. And you definitely needed to be drunk to get through the night. You could hear your neighbors from all around you partying. Everybody was buzzing, and you couldn’t even get buzzed.

To be fair, the alcohol was probably at least doing something, ‘cause you caught your finger hovering above his number. How’d it even get there? Hm. Well, in any case, you weren’t drunk enough to call, so maybe just an innocent text?

<<your bourbon is a hit at my new year’s party>>

You scoffed, throwing your phone to the side and rubbing your face in second hand embarrassment at your own lame joke. You couldn’t feel your nose, so that was promising.

Your phone chimed. Probably Sephora wishing you a Happy New Year and urging you to grab a concealer they had on sale, just in time to mask the post-partying undereye evidence. How considerate.

<<Yeah? And I wasn’t invited? Rude.>>

Your eyes widened. Shit. You really actually pressed send on that? That threw you into a fit of giggles.

<<three’s a crowd>>

<<How about a foursome? I could bring its older brother. Since I know you’ve got a more... matured taste.>>

You blinked at the display, re-reading his message several times. Was he actually inviting himself over and referencing your taste for older men all in the same text?

<<that’s more like it>>

<<Good thing I’m in town, then. Text me the address and we’ll be there in time for countdown.>>

You sat up in bed a little bit too rapidly, but was surprised that the room didn’t start spinning as a result. You definitely weren’t nearly drunk enough for this. But if he really was there, and he really was willing to drop by, were you really going to pass up the opportunity? It didn’t even have to lead to anything sexual. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t desperately hope he’d take the hint.

Realization hit as you remembered you’d just invited this man to your pity party and he’d definitely know it the minute he walked in. You were a mess. Hadn’t shaved in as many days as you’d been back home. Hadn’t brushed your teeth that day. Hadn’t brushed your hair in three, since you last washed it. Hadn’t even changed out of your pajamas. Hadn’t made your bed. Hadn’t taken out the trash. Definitely hadn’t put on any makeup.

But in spite of all that, you texted him your address and scurried into the bathroom, razor in tow. You then threw on some actual fresh clothes and tidied your bed, quickly put on some mascara and brushed your tangles and just when you were about to reconsider your outfit and most importantly, your choice of undergarments, the doorbell rang.

Crap, crap, crap.

At least you had time for one last chug of the bourbon. Guess it’d have to be a threesome after all.

You swung the door open, a little out of breath and you were met with the biggest smile you’d seen on Harry’s face, ever “Hi”

“Hi yourself” Crap, that accent again. He could’ve said anything and make it sound like the most depraved, filthiest thing you’d ever heard. You pushed that thought aside, trying not to get too worked up, and gestured for him to come in, which he did, in that slow paced manner of his that made everything seem so… right.

“I see you’ve brought your friend”

“It’s what got me the invite” he handed the bourbon to you and you quickly grabbed it and headed into the open space kitchen, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

He looked so good, it should’ve been illegal. He filled the whole room with his cologne, he made every space he walked into look so tiny with his tall frame in the foreground. What was a man like that doing in your one bedroom rental, on New Year’s Eve, no less? You just couldn’t make sense of it. He could’ve literally been anywhere. He could be doing anything, anyone, but he somehow was there, with you. And for what? What was wrong with him? Surely there must’ve been something terribly wrong with him to choose to be there with you of all places.

Yet there he was, clad in his long dark navy winter coat, looking like sex on toast, his eyes following you eagerly as you moved around the kitchen.

“You can take off your coat, you know” you tried to sound as casual as possible as you reached for a cupboard to find some of your fancier glasses you kept for special occasions, and you realized you’d never actually gotten to using them. This was it. This was the special occasion they’d been waiting in that cupboard for all those years.

“Already trying to get me naked?” you jumped, his playful tone coming from much closer than you’d expected it. He chuckled at your reaction, grabbing you by the elbow gently to help you catch your footing, lest you dropped your precious glasses “Woah. Maybe I just take the coat off”

You glanced at him from under your lashes as he shrugged said coat off, leaving him in a dark shirt, unbuttoned all the way to his midriff and you thought to yourself that he could’ve just really gotten naked at this point, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference, you were already such a goner.

He caught you ogling him and paused before throwing his coat over a chair’s backrest after folding it with the lining facing outward.

“Y/N… I was only joking. Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable”

“What?” you scoffed “No, you’re fine. Uhm... So, how come you’re in town?” you averted your eyes quickly, filling up the glasses

He shrugged, you were certain he didn’t believe you though “Well my friends wouldn’t take no for an answer. They all pretty much live in the city, I’m the boring suburban single dad” he sighed for dramatic effect, placing his hands on his hips “So here I am”

“Actually there’s quite a bit there in between that you’re not disclosing. How come you ditched them to be here?” you still avoided looking at him, nursing your glass of bourbon as if you hadn’t had a whole bottle all to yourself before he came.

“I said I’m the boring suburban single dad, not the idiot. How was I gonna pass you inviting me over, hm? Especially after you ran off on me at Christmas” he got closer to you, his voice a low murmur towards the end. So you were going to address the elephant in the room

“I didn’t run off…” “You literally couldn’t have pulled your car out of my driveway quicker” he chuckled

“In fact I could have and I did, for Thanksgiving. You should’ve seen the Need for Speed stunts I pulled”

Somehow, very stealthily, you found yourself trapped between the counter and Harry hovering over you, his arms on either side of you, resting his palms flat on the fake marble top “Y/N?”

“Hm?” your stupid voice was betraying your nervousness

“You said you didn’t regret it” his eyes searched yours with a disarming amount of honesty in them

“I don’t” you murmured, matching his tone

“I gave you space, after you ran off- yeah, ran off like that” he cut you off before you could interject. He exhaled through his nose, trying to find the right words “But now that you’ve invited me here, I need to know. What is this? What are we doing?”

“...Partying?” you winced

Harry threw his head back barking a laugh “I thought we were having a foursome. Talk about disappointed” You smiled at each other some more then the silence was beginning to get too heavy again “I’m just trying not to misread anything again”

“Again?”

He raised an eyebrow “Like I did with the infamous panties. The ones I was adamant you’d left in my en suite on purpose?”

“Hmmm. Gotcha”

“Y/N…” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours “I’m going out on a limb here. You’ve gotta throw me a bone.”

Your breath caught at the contact. You desperately wanted to tell him, but you didn’t know what you wanted to tell him. You wanted him, that was certain, but exactly how much did you want from him? Where did you draw the line?

Suddenly, you could hear cheering sounds from your neighbors from all over closely followed by deafening sounds of fireworks that felt way too close to your building not to be a safety hazard.

But it all was a welcome distraction from the way your heart pounded from being that close to him again. You could feel him breathing heavily, his exhales landing on your cheekbones in staggered, rapid huffs.

Just as you felt him getting ready to say something, you took the plunge, pushing your nose against the side of his, managing to tilt his head ever so slightly and connecting your lips to his. He didn’t miss a beat. As soon as your mouths were on each other, his hands went straight to your waist, almost as if wanting to make sure you were not going anywhere.

And you definitely weren’t going anywhere, or “running off”. As soon as you felt more than heard him moan against your mouth, due to the loud fireworks, you opened up for him and let him melt into you, and you into him, until you had no idea where his face ended and yours started.

“I need words, baby. I’m all about physical expression but this needs to be clear on both ends” he managed to get out, out of breath, before diving right back in, kissing you some more while you tried to form a coherent sentence in your mind first “This is me telling you I want you, in case you hadn’t caught on” another kiss, and these were no short pecks, oh no, he kissed you senseless each time he went in “No holding back” another “I want to devour you, just like you were begging me to with your eyes last time, except this time around you’re going to be screaming it” he groaned and added his teeth a bit into the mix with this next kiss, biting at your lips slightly with each pull of his lips.

You were dizzy, and it still wasn’t from the damn bourbon. You knew he was growing impatient but would never push you into saying or doing anything, you felt totally at ease in his presence while freaking out majorly, internally, at the same time.

“I want this, too, Harry” you managed, completely out of breath and you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he scooped you up and placed you on the countertop, your bum barely resting on it at all as he was supporting your whole body weight, pulling you flush against him and keeping your thighs held tightly around his hips while grinding deliciously against you.

“Fucking finally” he groaned, pulling you even closer somehow “I’m losing my mind. I’ve been losing my mind all this time. Do you have any fucking clue?” he yanked your hair at that, almost as if chastising you for making him go through all that. You whimpered, loving the sting and he made a sound deep in his chest that you swore could’ve made you come right there and then all on itself. It was raw, primal and absolutely uninhibited.

The fireworks were still going strong as you two clawed at each other. You sank your fingers, finally, into his thick head of curls and he began kissing down your jawline and behind your ear, making you crazy with lust.

“I couldn’t get those sounds you make out of my head, fuck I want to hear you. Be loud for me baby, I want to hear you over those fireworks”

At that, he splayed his fingers under your blouse, pushing it upwards but not all the way, and you took it as your cue to undress, but only if you were ready and comfortable to do so. It was a heady mix, him being so dominant and at the same time letting you have all the control. It was an unspoken dynamic that you were more than happy with, and you lifted the blouse up and over your head immediately, throwing it carelessly to the floor.

You lowered the straps to your bra as well but let him unclasp it, and it was so cliché of you, but how could you not go weak in the knees seeing how easily he did that using his left hand, no less, the right one already at the front of your bra, tugging it away from your body.

He took a moment to look at you, and you almost wish he hadn’t, because the look in his eyes was absolutely predatory. His analogy to being the big, bad wolf came to mind again and you did feel like you’ve been sweet talked only for him to reveal his fangs now.

They do say a gentleman is but a patient wolf.

He dipped his head tongue first between your breasts and you leaned back, giving him easier access, his mouth hot and wet as he lavished your breasts until they were slick with his saliva, making it easier for him to massage them in his big palms as he focused his mouth directly on your nipples next.

“Oh God!”

He hummed, spurring you on, as you cradled his head closer to your body, but his fingers made swift work of your jeans’ zipper next, and you lifted your bum so that he could pull them off of you right along with your panties this time.

“I can smell you already, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you baby?”

“Yes, yes! So ready” you clawed at his shirt’s lapels and kissed him for all you were worth.

“Gonna let daddy have a taste then? Hm? Been going crazy just thinking about it” he pressed his forehead against yours once more, nudging your nose with his as he whined his request.

“Oh, please, please, do it! I’m dripping for you”

“You’re ready to slip off this countertop, my sweet girl” he nuzzled your ear next “I’m going to eat you up” he announced, menacingly, referring to his previous analogy once more and you would’ve giggled had he not sounded dead serious.

He pulled your thighs apart and caressed the insides while he descended down your body lapping at every inch of skin in his lips’ wake. Every now and again you would jump a little but you didn’t know if it was because of what he was doing to you, nipping at your skin occasionally and lapping at it soothingly immediately afterwards, or the loud fireworks startling you, or both.

When he finally went down on his knees, him being tall enough to reach your apex even kneeling, you shuddered in anticipation and he fixed his eyes on yours, pushing your knees apart and further back. The look he was giving you was positively feral.

You’d have expected him to start with the usual, soft kisses here and there, working his way in, but not Harry. He gave your glistening core a short, sharp slap, not too hard but not too soft either, the sound of his palm against your juices straight out of your wildest fantasies. Your yelp morphed into a moan and his eyes darkened considerably seeing your reaction “I can’t take it” he exhaled sharply “I’m teasing myself more than you at this point. Gotta have a taste. Need your scent all over my face. Can I, baby?”

“Yesss” you sighed dreamily, your hand going into his hair, pushing his stray curls back

“Yes, what? I want to hear you say it” he whined, his voice going a bit higher with need “Whose pussy is this, baby? Who’s gonna ruin you?”

“Yours, daddy, you are!” you cried

“Fuck, say it again” he ordered, before delving tongue first, licking his way from your weeping entrance right up to your swollen clit

“Ah! Daddy!”

He hummed against your clit sending vibrations through your whole body “So sweet for me. Never gonna get enough of this. Want you riding my face all the time”

“Oh!” you cried as he pushed two fingers into you easily, pumping steadily

“Yeah? That good, baby? You’re ready to burst, aren’t you? Just dying to let go. I can’t wait to see you fall apart again” he spoke right against your clit, nibbling at it with every word and he’d somehow found your g-spot already, stroking it determinately

You sat up straighter, pulling on Harry’s hair a bit more than you’d intended but the way he rolled his eyes back told you just how much he’d minded that “Oh fuck, oh God!”

“Yeah? You gonna come for daddy, baby? Already? Such a needy little slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck!” you cried. How was he doing this? He’d barely even started. And why was him calling you his slut turning you on so much?

“Please, daddy! Please, please” you huffed pantingly “I’ll do whatever you want”

“Oh honey, careful, I might just take you up on that!” he chuckled menacingly, rubbing your clit vigorously and it sent you spiraling.

“I will, I swear! Oh, ohhh!” you threw your head back as he sucked your clit intently while pumping his fingers into you with even more determination and before you even realized it was happening, you were coming, hard.

You could feel your legs flailing against his shoulders but he held you steadily, not letting up, riding you through your high until you darn near actually collapsed and slipped off the counter. You realized it had just gone silent outside, and that it had probably only been around 5 minutes in total, which was absolutely unheard of in your books.

As you tried to catch your breath he straightened, going straight for your mouth and you gasped against his wet face. He chuckled “You did so good for me baby, absolutely drenched me, didn’t you?”

You looked at him through heavy eyelids, a slight confused look on your face taking him in. You knew you tended to get really wet when you were aroused properly but this was taking it next level.

“Awh” he cooed, pinching your nipples slightly earning a hiss from you “Did my sweet girl not know she could squirt?”

“Could what?!”

He laughed, but there was a definite edge to it “Now. How do you feel about making good on those promises you made earlier, hm?”

Chapter 7

A/N: posting this at 4:30 am so excuse the typos and whatnot mkay? *falls face first into bed*

💕 like & reblog if you’re enjoying this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

1K notes · View notes

tenswrld · 3 years

Text

old enough to understand

mark lee x reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff

summary: now that you’re older, you seem to finally understand how mark makes you feel

a/n: came up with this at 2am while listening to my mark lee dedicated playlist and pluto projector came on and u already know that one part made me emotional also do u like my doodles i made on the photo ^^

growing up, you were surrounded by the concept of love. you witnessed it with your parents, when you got your first pet, and even when you took your first bite into your favorite fruit.

when you first met mark lee at the age of 6, you didn’t think that the word love would apply to him. at least, not in the way that you knew it.

“no! it’s mine, i don’t want to give you any!” the young boy yelled.

“you can just go get more! i just want some watermelon!” you screamed back.

“go get some yourself!”

angry, you stomped away towards the table of adults. “mrs. lee, mark won’t give me a piece of his watermelon.”

the older woman laughed softly before getting up and leading you to the table of fruit. “forgive him, watermelon is his favorite. i’ll be sure to make sure he shares next time, okay?”

while you ate your own fruit alone in the grass, mark came up to you scratching his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “i’m sorry for being rude...i just really like watermelon...”

you narrowed your eyes at him before bursting into a fit of giggles, offering your own watermelon out to him. “it’s okay, mark, i like watermelon too. i understand.” he took the piece that you held out to him and took a seat next to you.

when you first met mark, you didn’t think anything of him except for that he was the dorky boy next door who seemed to reserve the concept of love for his favorite fruit.

in middle school, you and mark seemed to clash heads more often than not, and you found it hard to stick around him. desperate to seem cool in front of the new friends that he made, mark steered away from you and teased you whenever he saw you in the halls. you almost despised him in your middle school years, but no matter how much teasing he did mark always waited for you outside of the school gates and walked you home safely.

though he was still unsure of the role you had in his life, mark knew that he wanted to keep you around.

in high school, your parents fantasized about the idea of the two of you dating, but you and mark always recoiled at the thought. friend groups and social status set you and mark even further apart and before you knew it you became a messenger to girls who wanted mark to call their own. when you got your first boyfriend in sophomore year, mark tried to warn you that the guy was no good, but like always you never listened to him. when he broke your heart, you expected mark to scold you and tell you he told you so, but he provided you comfort in his arms instead.

though he didn’t love you then, mark vowed that he would never let your heart get broken again.

when it came time for you and mark to go off to college, you found yourself a lot more upset than you had initially thought you would be. you were excited to go off and find yourself elsewhere, but something about not having the silly, brown haired boy by your side 24/7 felt strange. granted, you two weren’t as close as your six year old self thought you would be, but you found that you and mark held a special type of bond that you feared you wouldn’t find anywhere else.

you still hadn’t figured out your love for mark lee, but you knew that leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.

“just...promise to call often, okay?” you told him as you walked with him to his car, a box of his things in your arms.

mark’s lips curled up into a smug smile. “why? gonna miss me that much?”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re making me regret saying that. you’ll be lucky if i don’t block you after this, idiot.”

mark laughed loudly and you found yourself smiling softly at the sound. you placed the box in his truck before you both turned to each other. “i’ll text you everyday and call when i can. don’t worry, you can’t get rid of me that easily. you’ll probably be hearing about my uncontrollable gas everyday so if that’s not what you’re looking for then...”

you laughed and shoved his shoulder, mumbling for him to shut up. “it’s gonna be weird without you, i think.”

mark shrugged. “yeah, well, we’ll see each other again. just think about it like that time where you got so mad at me for blowing up your house in minecraft that you ignored me for a week!”

mark expected you to laugh but became concerned when he saw your lip quivering and your eyes threatening to spill tears. “y/n? sorry, is that, like, a sensitive memory?”

when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his torso and mumbled a soft ‘i’ll miss you’ into his chest, mark cursed at himself for being the first one to fall in love.

___

“isn’t it like 4am for you? you should go to bed,” you scolded him half heartedly. you sat at your vanity on facetime with a sleepy mark as you did your nightly skincare routine.

mark groaned through the phone and shook his head. “but i wanna talk to you,” he whined groggily. “i miss you.”

your cheeks heat up and you smiled shyly. “i miss you too, mark.”

mark blinked slowly with a tired look, his hair all messed up and his face in need of a shave. he watched you silently as you rubbed your moisturizer into your skin, smiling at the sight. “...you’re really pretty you know that?”

you froze and chuckled nervously, keeping yourself busy with your moisturizer so you didn’t have to see the way mark was looking at you. “you’re talking nonsense again.”

he grumbled, “i’m not talking any nonsense. you’re so pretty, y/n, i miss seeing your face. i hate facetime and my shit wifi.”

“you’re rambling, marky, go to bed,” you ushered him, this time grabbing your phone to look at him.

he smiled fondly at you. “i like it when you call me marky.”

“okay, i’ll call you it more if you go to bed.”

mark huffed and complied, bidding you one last goodbye. “fine. i miss you so much, y/n, call me tomorrow.”

“okay, i will.”

“promise?” mark asked softly, peeking open one eye to look at you.

“i promise, you big baby.”

“okay, goodnight. love you,” mark mumbled softly into his pillow, already half asleep.

your breath hitched in your throat at his words. you two hardly ever said that phrase to each other but you began to realize that nowadays mark seemed to say it quite often. before, you’d probably make a face in disgust at the cheesiness, but now it only made your stomach sick with butterflies.

“yeah, love you too, marky. sleep tight.”

already fast asleep, mark stayed silent. your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, but you waited a few more seconds just to look at how peaceful mark looked. you could see the sky turning from a dark black to a paler blue from his window, making you frown since the boy had stayed up so late. before you could look at him any longer, you ended the call and sat back in your chair.

loving mark lee had always seemed impossible to you, but now you realized that it was the one thing that you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

___

you spent a lot of time thinking about your feelings for mark while you were away and most of it was you being in denial. you thought that maybe it was just because you weren’t used to being so far away from him, but deep down you knew otherwise. your friends had tried setting you up on blind dates, yet no one seemed to fill in the gap that you felt you had in your heart.

after you finished your first year of college, your mother began to pester you about having a boyfriend for you to bring home for the holidays. yet no matter how many guys you thought about, your mind would always bring you back to mark.

it was now christmas time and your family and mark’s family were going to have a small get together, meaning that you and mark would get to spend time with each other in person again. you weren’t sure if you should tackle mark at the sight of him, but you figured he would do the same to you anyway.

“y/n, sweetheart! my gosh, it’s been so long! you’ve grown up so well,” mark’s mother cooed as she gave you a warm hug.

you chuckled and returned her hug, replying with, “thank you, mrs. lee. it’s nice to see you again.”

she playfully nudged your shoulder. “any boyfriend yet?”

you laughed awkwardly and shook your head, looking away. “oh, um, no...not yet.”

she beamed. “mark will be happy to hear that.” she said it so fast that you almost didn’t catch it. “he’s out back waiting for you. i told him i’d tell him when you got here, but it’ll be a nice surprise for him,” she winked.

you thanked her briefly before making your way to the backyard excitedly. you thought that you’d be more nervous facing the boy you loved but, frankly, all you wanted to do was finally tell him that you loved him.

when you opened the door mark immediately turned his head, expecting to see his mom, but his facial expression completely changed when he saw you. he ran up to you with the brightest smile on his face and engulfed you into his arms. you laughed joyously into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you as close to his chest as humanly possible.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that,” he mumbled into your hair.

you smiled against his shoulder before pulling away to look at him. the two of you held eye contact for what felt like an eternity before mark finally returned his arms back to his side.

“even though we call everyday, it feels like i’m meeting you for the first time all over again,” mark said with a light laugh.

“i hope i lived up to your expectations, then,” you joked.

mark smiled fondly at you before brushing snow out of your hair. “definitely above expectations.”

you blushed at his comment but thanked the cold weather for hiding your rosy cheeks. before you could make more small talk, mark burst out into another sentence.

“y/n, i have to get this off of my chest before i explode,” he blurted.

your eyes widened and you nodded your head. “oh, um, okay, what is it?”

he gripped at his hair and turned around, beginning to whine. “oh my god, i’m gonna sound like the biggest idiot on earth. please don’t hate me after this.”

“...what did you do, mark?”

“i didn’t do anything! well...” he faced you again with a sigh and grabbed your hands taking you by surprise. “y/n, i’m in love with you. and i know you probably just see me as that stupid annoying boy your mom forced you to be friends with but i’ve loved you for over a year and it’s driving me crazy and i-”

“mark!” you interrupted him, placing a hand over his mouth. he looked at you with wide eyes while you smiled at him, practically glowing with happiness. you removed your hand from over his mouth and he sighed again.

“just reject me so i can go cry in my room.” mark shut his eyes and prepared himself for rejection but it never came.

“i love you too, mark.”

mark opened one at to stare at you suspiciously. “...really? like, seriously?”

you chuckled. “yes, really. for a few months now.”

“wait, you’re not pranking me or anything, right?” mark asked with a small laugh.

you glared at him. “mark...”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really surprised!” mark opened his mouth to say something but then gasped and dug into his back pocket to grab something.

when he pulled out a small piece of mistletoe you seemed to fall in love with the brunette boy all over again. he grabbed one of your hands and gently pulled you closer to him, using the other hand to hold the mistletoe over your guys’ heads.

“i brought this just in case. i know that you’ve always fantasized about a moment like this so...” he said sheepishly. “kiss me?”

you laughed and brushed his hair out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks and placing a soft kiss on his lips. you felt him smile into the kiss, making you laugh and pull away.

“been waiting for that one too, huh?” you teased.

mark waved the mistletoe above the two of you and shook his head. “less talking and more kissing please...”

it took you over 10 years for you to realize that you loved mark lee but, if you had to, you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee oneshot #mark lee fluff #NCT #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nct mark #nct oneshot #im so bad at writing confession scenarios im so sorry #superm #mark lee oneshots

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng start hooking up post-canon and Wei Wuxian assumes it's part of a scheme on Nie Huaisang's part. Possibly it was actually a scheme but Nie Huaisang got into it anyway. Or if sadness is more your thing, he didn't, and Wei Wuxian is left being like "see Jiang Cheng? I knew he couldn't have been hanging around with you for fun!"

ao3 (short)

“You need to stop,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes narrow and expression fierce.

It was a lot less effective on Mo Xuanyu’s face than it had been on his original features. No one had yet told him, presumably out of a desire to avoid being murdered by Lan Wangji for making his lover sad.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him. “Stop…what?”

“Whatever it is you’re up to!”

Oh, were they doing this again?

Nie Huaisang opened up a fan and hid his face behind it in a single movement – he’d gotten really good at it over the years – and started idly fanning himself. “Wei-xiong, really, you’ll need to be more specific. I’m up to so many things, don’t you know…?”

Normally Nie Huaisang wouldn’t bother playing along, but he could see Jiang Cheng coming down the hallway at an angle that put him directly in Wei Wuxian’s blind spot – if there was one thing Jinlin Tower was good for, it was not seeing people – and he could already see Jiang Cheng starting to smile at his nonsense, which was obviously far more important than whatever it was that Wei Wuxian thought he’d figured out.

Hmm. Maybe Nie Huaisang was being too hasty in judging Lan Wangji’s rudeness – love really did make you do the stupidest things…

“I meant in relation to Jiang Cheng.”

Nie Huaisang stopped fanning and stared blankly at him. A few steps away from the turn, he saw Jiang Cheng come to a halt as well, already scowling.

“Jiang – Cheng?” he said hesitantly. “What exactly does Wei-xiong think I’m doing with Jiang-xiong?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms. “I’m not sure,” he said. “What are you doing?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “But if I knew that, Wei-xiong, I wouldn’t have asked you, would I?”

The main problem Wei Wuxian had with confronting Nie Huaisang about anything, really, was that he genuinely found Nie Huaisang terribly funny. The twitching lips made the glaring more difficult.

(Behind him, Jiang Cheng was rolling his eyes, a full-body production that involved a great deal of heaving of shoulders and clutching at his head at the rampant stupidity on display. Nie Huaisang appreciated his lover's dedication to the art.)

Still – and this part was worrisome – Wei Wuxian’s smile faded away soon enough, replaced by a solemn expression.

“We may not be on the best of terms right now,” he said. “But he’s still very dear to me. I won’t put up with you using him as part of one of your schemes.”

“I don’t actually have any schemes,” Nie Huaisang said, mostly because Jiang Cheng was frowning now and Nie Huaisang did not want Wei Wuxian to mess up his budding relationship. “Really, Wei-xiong! I had one scheme, and it took me over a decade – I’m hardly the shadowy puppet-master mastermind you seem to sometimes seem to take me as. Why would you think that I’m using Jiang-xiong?”

“You’re deceitful,” Wei Wuxian said. “You made Jin Guangyao think that you were weak and dependent on him for years even as you plotted to bring him down. And now you’re pulling the same thing on Jiang Cheng – what am I supposed to think?”

Wei Wuxian must have seen them in the market, Nie Huaisang thought. He’d been carping around, playing up his good-for-nothing self – Jiang Cheng liked it when he did that. Mostly because Nie Huaisang really was a bit of a good-for-nothing, his one scheme claim to fame being firmly in the past; his cultivation was weak, his achievements few, his personality…questionable…

(Jin Ling had, upon discovering them spending time together, told Nie Huaisang that he fit everyone one of the criteria that Jiang Cheng had set out for a wife, right down to the weaker level of cultivation and the proper family background. Nie Huaisang had bought him some candy on the basis that ‘be nice to Jin Ling’ was on the list, and told him to think about the type of mileage he could get out of something like that. Jin Ling had looked appropriately thoughtful, after.

Nie Huaisang was a very good influence – or possibly a bad one, he wasn’t sure.)

At any rate, Jiang Cheng liked indulging him, liked and was reassured by the contrast between them. No one looking at them would ever put Jiang Cheng second – Nie Huaisang wasn’t even prettier! – except maybe in terms of insults, and even Jiang Cheng had to admit that he didn’t really want the privilege of being called the worst Great Sect leader, even if it was a superlative.

Wei Wuxian must have seen.

Wei Wuxian must have totally misunderstood.

“Jiang-xiong was at the Guanyin temple as well,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “It’s not like er-ge at all.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Do you really have the right to call Lan-da-ge that?”

“My brother’s no less my brother because he’s dead, and he kept his oath to the end,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “Why should the other two be released from the obligations of their oath just because they chose to foreswear their side of it?”

“Stop getting away from the point,” Wei Wuxian said, probably because Nie Huaisang was right. Bitter and mean and resentful, but right. “Whatever you’re scheming that involves Jiang Cheng, stop it.”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“I’m not scheming, but even if I was, the target would be Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang explained. “You don’t understand, Wei-xiong. You see, I like Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m sure you do,” Wei Wuxian said. “But I also think you liked Jin Guangyao, a bit.”

Maybe he had. A bit.

But it wasn’t the same at all!

“I especially won’t tolerate you using him for sex while also –”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng bellowed, and Wei Wuxian jumped a chi into the air.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself. “Oh good,” he said. “I was about to be worried that you’d misunderstand, Jiang-xiong, but luckily Wei-xiong decided to take all the awkwardness onto himself.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jiang Cheng snarled at Wei Wuxian, who blanched but scowled back.

“I was just trying to help –”

“By embarrassing me?”

“How is it embarrassing to you?!”

“You think I’d be – what – led around by my dick like some new model Jin Guangshan –”

“Oh, that’s a good insult,” Nie Huaisnag said approvingly. “I’m going to need to use that in the future. What do you think the odds are for Lan Wangji biting me if I said it to him?”

That got both of them to stop fighting and turn to look at him.

“What? Does he only bite people he likes now? He used to bite everybody.”

Blank staring.

“That was back when he was five,” Nie Huaisang allowed. “It’s been a while.”

“You have stories about baby Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian said at once, as one might’ve expected. “I want them. All of them. Now.”

“Weren’t you threatening him a moment ago?!”

“That’s different! That was for you!”

“Right, because you don’t think anyone would actually like me,” Jiang Cheng said.

He sounded hurt.

Unacceptable.

“I’m sure Wei-xiong just meant that you were so unbearably attractive that people would compete for the opportunity to manipulate them into your bed,” Nie Huaisang assured him while Wei Wuxian was still trying to find words. “And since Wei-xiong thinks I’m the best schemer, obviously I won hands down, and secretly eliminated all my love rivals to boot. It's all my fault. Alas! I've been caught red-handed!”

“Are you actually capable of saying a single word that isn’t complete nonsense?” Jiang Cheng asked him, his tone having returned to exasperated and fond, which was worlds better than hurt.

Nie Huaisang considered the question seriously and then shook his head.

“You…! Good-for-nothing!”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. “Your good-for-nothing,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to make you do everything for me from now on.”

He was, too.

Wei Wuxian looked between them. “Wait,” he said. “Is this – a thing?”

“If you mean Jiang-xiong and I, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s been courting me for years, and I refused.”

“Only on the basis of a secret murder plot which you didn’t want to get me involved in.”

“How was I to know that everything would turn out well in the end? I thought there was every chance san-ge would find a way to drag me down with him. I couldn’t let that happen to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng jeered, but he looked pleased and smug the way he always did when Nie Huaisang admitted to having been won over by the very first day of his courtship, years ago. He liked being successful at things.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said. “Not that. The – good-for-nothing thing. It’s a thing. For you two.”

“Fighting words,” Nie Huaisang remarked, even as Jiang Cheng flushed red. “Coming from the dreadful Yiling Patriarch that needs to be defeated by the mighty and righteous Hanguang-jun and then taken away for a good ravishing –”

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Uh - listen – I can explain – actually, no, I can’t. Nie-xiong, you have my blessing, just don’t break his heart, bye.”

“Come back here you -!”

Yes, Nie Huaisang decided, watching Jiang Cheng chase Wei Wuxian. This was the best possible result.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #yes it's a thing

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

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kimnjss · 3 years

Text

tricky part | knj

⤑ series: plot twist

⤑ pairing: rapper!namjoon x rich girl!reader

⤑ genre: fluff?? (idk, man. i think they’re cute.) ahem, some smut... nd we get a little angsty, of course.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 8.1K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: (mentions of alcohol abuse). slight dirty talk, cursing, fingering, nipple play, handjob, unprotected sex, cumshot, doggy style, light hair pulling, multiple orgasms... i think that’s it.

⤑ chapter song: tonight (i wish i was your boy) - the 1975 (the entire song is namjoon is swear...)

⤑ A/N: hiiii! this is wicked late ., i took a nap today nd it was amazing . let me know what you think !! x

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:09

It takes longer than usual for you to get ready, stuck in the mirror contemplating whether or not what you're wearing is good enough. If maybe you should put your hair up instead of letting it fall freely. Would it be showing too much? But you wanted to show a little, right? This was a date after all, who didn't tease a little on the first date?

But this was Namjoon. Sensible, cautious, easily frazzled Namjoon. Would it turn him off? Or fluster him so he's showing off that cute dimpled smile of us. The one that he let slip when without even noticing it, cheeks flushing pink as he tried to avoid eye contact. Gosh, he was so cute!

Okay! Perfect solution, you're thinking as your eyes find the hair elastic on your dresser. You'd bring the hair tie and feel things out, read the room, and with the first desire to jump his bones, you'd tie your hair up. Giving him a perfect look at your shimmery collarbones, thank you Fenty, and the slope of your neck. No doubt he'd find himself thinking about pressing his lips against your skin at the sight of it.

Boys were simple. All of them. A mere flash of skin and they were putty in your hands. Joon was cute with it, though. So you'd let it slide.

Your phone lights up, humming against your sheets. His name flashes in bold, waking up the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Weird. He must be here, no doubt outside waiting for you right now. He'd think you looked nice, right? Grant you one of his lingering stares that he's always so quick to avert.

That's when you knew you caught his eye. Pride warms your chest each and every time you're catching him. It took a little bit more effort to get Namjoon to turn his head. Yet, he was still a boy at the end of it. He'd end up looking at you one way or another, it's all about how you present it.

Which is exactly why you were yellow. A yellow two-piece that highlights the best parts of you. And you're sure you've made the right decision when you catch the stutter in his step, eyes flickering from your face to your legs then back again. Forcing himself not to look away the entire time you're walking up to him, black platform heels carrying you with ease. Only a few inches below him with them on.

“Hi,” You're saying with a grin, hand reaching out to grasp his bicep. Giving it a little squeeze and watching the way his eyes go wide. He's wearing sweats but still looks so good. As if he's stood in front of you in a three-piece suit, although you might be exaggerating.

He doesn't shake you off but doesn't exactly relax in your touch either. Fingers tapping against his thigh and you can't help but wonder if he's holding himself back from touching you. Lame. “You're wearing yellow,” He says after a moment, stating it as fact rather than something that was intentionally done for him and his attention.

Eyes rolling on a laugh, you're nodding your head. “Yeah. You like yellow,”

“I do,” His nod is curt and his tone is military.

Huffing, while stepping forward, easily pulling him a bit close to you. “Okay, rule number on to this date...” Lifting a single finger for reference. His eyes flicker to it before he's looking back down at you. “You're not allowed to think tonight, got it? No analyzing, calculating. Weighing the options. Just do and talk, get loose.” Giving his shoulder a playful shake, you're shocked to hear the laugh that falls from his lips.

Like an actual, really pretty laugh. “Alright, deal.” A proud smile threatens to split your face when you feel his hand lift, hesitant at first but landing on the small of the back. Albeit, just to guide you, but it's still something. “Let's get going,” He's guiding you with the gentle hand on your back, barely touching you but you're stomach was doing backflips.

How quickly the roles reversed. Hands clasped in front of you, urging yourself to calm down. To stop acting like some thirteen year old who still hasn't had their first kiss. You were twelve years and eighteen kisses past that. Get it together.

“Where's your car?” Stepping on your tiptoes, attempting to peak up the street to spot it. “Actually, what kind of car do you even drive? I've never seen it?” Eyes shifting up toward him, a quizzical look on your face.

You're missing the soft, “I don't...” That falls from his lips because you're brain is working overtime to guess what car he could possibly drive. “Hm, you kinda look like a Chevy guy... maybe a Honda? But, I could be wrong. Definitely not a sports car, though.” You couldn't imagine Joon in one of those loud, low to the ground car.

Whipping through traffic as if where he had to go was much more important than all the other people on the road. Yeah, that didn't fit.

He's taking offense to this for some reason, nose scrunching, and hands finding his hips. His steps even come to a halt. “Hey. Why not a sports car?”

You're letting out a laugh, not at him, of course. Just at how adorable he looks right now. Actually pouting, with his arms crossed in the middle of the sidewalk. You've never seen him like this, not even sure where this new Joon came from. But he might be even cuter than the Joon you knew and had a huge crush on.

Moving toward him, not even bothering to stop yourself from poking his pouted lip. “Come on, that's totally out of character. You're practical and sensible. You wouldn't splurge on a sports car, that's not even durable. Those cars get torn apart in accidents,” He's not really mad, obviously. Which is why it doesn't take long for him to lose the face.

“So which one is it? Honda or Chevy?”

A large arm is dropping around your shoulder, tucking you into his side as the two of you continue your timed steps down the sidewalk. “Neither. I don't have a car. Or my license,” Eyes nearly popping out of your head with his words, stopping in your tracks to get a good look at him. Just in case you might've heard him wrong.

But he shows no signs of correcting himself or clarifying what he had just said. “Wait. So how are we going to get there!?” Did he expect you to walk!? All the way to Daejeon? In these shoes... they were cute, but not the most comfortable. And they didn't need to be because they weren't meant for walking 100 miles at a time!

“We're gonna take the train, of course. How else?” He's not even looking like he knows he's talking nonsense.

Like, honestly. Did he expect you to ride a gross train dressed like this!? What if you got robbed? Or kidnapped? Or worse, thrown up on!? This outfit was irreplaceable, one of a kind. No way could you take it on a train, that wouldn't do. “No. That won't be necessary. I'll just call one of my drivers, they'll come get us,” You've got your phone out before you're even finishing your sentence.

Namjoon is quick to pluck the device from your fingers, a sly smile playing on his features as he tucks it into his pocket. “Let those people spend time with their families. It's Sunday. There won't even be that many people,” Two firm hands placed on your shoulders, he's turning you effortlessly. “The train, it'll be fun.”

“You're the only guy, in the universe that thinks riding the train will be fun.” He's laughing again and it's not cute as it was a few minutes ago. “Oh no, I meant fun for me. You're gonna hate it,”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:37

Just as you predicted, the train is gross. And sticky. Crowded and sweaty. Joon holds you close as you weave through the sea of people, fingers laced with yours. Although you know it's purely for survival purposes, the flutter in your heart still rises from feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

You try not to make a huge deal about it. People rode the train every day and considering how many of them were in here, they've all survived. You'd be fine. Especially with this six-foot angel clearing the way for you at every turn.

Joon finds a seat for the both of you against the wall. Close with your thighs pressed together and he still hasn't released your hand from his grasp. It's cozy beside him, warm. Leaning your weight on to him, you try to be subtle but probably fail. He's concentrating on something on his phone and from the quick peak you were able to sneak, you see he's checking on your reservation for tonight.

Stomach flipping at the tiny fact he made a reservation for you two. It's so Namjoon to want to be triple prepared for anything, but the fact that it's in your favor makes you happy. No idea why, but that was the truth of the matter. More often than not happy when you were around him.

Even cramped in this stinky train, his hand in yours was enough to convince you, you were in the back of a limo. The unfocused chatter around you replaced with soft music that you'd play. Probably something he likes to listen to. His taste in music was quickly becoming yours the more time the two of you spent together.

He's dropping your hand for some reason that you don't realize until you're looking up to see him standing. Offering his spot to some brat with a broken leg. What the heck? Were you supposed to hold hands with this kid? Up without a word, didn't even bother to ask if you wanted him to get up.

Joining the other people standing, holding on to the railing and you're quickly deciding you don't like the distance. He watches as you stand to your feet, nose brushing against his chin. “Sit,” Gesturing to your now empty spot, earning a raised brow from him.

“Come on, Yn. Your feet are gonna hurt. Just relax,” He tries to lower you back into your spot, but you're moving to the side with a shake of your head. “I'll be fine. Just sit,” Catching the stubborn glint in your eye, just begging him to argue, he chooses to drop it. Switching spots with you and sinking into the empty spot.

Not even a second after he's settling into the cushion, you're dropping yourself onto his lap. Arm wrapped around his shoulders, legs between his. Bum pressed firmly into his thigh. “Did you really think I was going to stand?” You laugh. He doesn't even look the least bit surprised, eyes rolling – but you catch the smile on the corner of his lips.

His hand finds the outer part of your thigh, holding your body steady as the car jostles. He doesn't move it even after the machine has settled, has even taken to tapping out a rhythm against your skin.

It's nice. Your new favorite song.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:17

You had to hand it to the guy, Kim Namjoon knew how to put a date together. Pure perfection from beginning to end, you're not sure if it's his careful attention to detail or the small possibility that he wanted to impress you... you've decided to go with the latter.

The entirety of dinner was spent talking about everything and nothing. Actually getting to know each other aside from the surface level, 'I make good music and you screen it while balancing your massive crush on me,'. He was telling you about the time he first met Yoongi: second year of high school, Yoongi was a really cool Senior, the type of cool guy that everyone knows, but like doesn't talk to anyone. He found Joon making out with some cheerleader in the band room, her hand down the front of his jeans... and made it all of his business to tease him about it for the rest of the semester.

Never would you have deemed Joonie as the type to take part in such excessive PDA, and although he insists it was not his idea... well, agree to disagree.

You were even telling him about the first time you got blackout drunk, which resulted in you being banned from every last Shake Shack. The only thing you remember from that night was getting in the car to head to the club, already started pre-gaming beforehand. But as Jungkook likes to tell it, you were a melting pot of 'types of' drunks.

Started the night trying to fistfight the bouncer, after only fifteen minutes in the club, which resulted in you... and all of your friends being kicked out. Went from not-so-discreetly trying to mount your boyfriend at the time, Jackson, to crying on the bathroom floor Shake Shack all before you were puking in the booth, after swearing (a million times) that you 'weren't gonna throw up'.

Followed by a screaming match between you and Hoseok as he apologized a thousand times over to the employee he had to call over for the mess, trying to assist her while she tried her best to keep a smile on her face. Jungkook carried you to the car, full-blown had to haul you over his shoulder as you screamed curses at your brother.

You don't remember any of that, though. Next thing you remember from that night after getting in the car to leave, was waking up to the sound of loud video games, hanging half-naked off the side of Jackson's bed.

You're more embarrassed than you though, telling that story out loud. how bad you used to be. That was the worst of it, but the other times weren't too great either. Of course, you've calmed down a bit. Really tried each and every time you were sent away to clean up your act. And you were good for a few months after you came back, and then you were not.

Surprisingly, Joon doesn't look disgusted when you tell him. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. Either he's extremely understanding or he was expecting your most embarrassing story to be something of the sort. You hope for the former but suspect the latter.

In reality, though. Namjoon found himself trying to figure out just what could've been going on in your life that you felt like any of that would help. He now knew with you there was always something hidden, a reason to your behavior that you oftentimes liked to brush off. Must've been bad. You probably had a hard time.

The highlight of the night, though, was hands down the play. You're not even sure if he knew what it was about when he chose it, but you were falling in love from the moment the current went up. Characters so vivid and engaging, dealing with real-life shit all while living in fear of the darkness that looms over their tiny village.

It wasn't hard for you to get totally immersed in the show, laughing along, getting upset, crying. And Joon stays seated by you the entire time, holding on to your hand. Not so sure when he picked it up, but he hasn't let it go in a while. Not that you were complaining. You liked the tiny shocks that followed every brush of his fingers.

He smiles when you laugh, laughs when you get upset, and wipes your tears when you cry. You're so sure, he missed the entire show.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:20

“You know, my best friend's an actor. Kinda a big deal at his agency... I could talk to him?” Joon throws in casually as the two of you make your way out of the theater, talking as he tosses his empty popcorn carton into the garbage. As if he didn't just drop some life-changing news.

You've heard of his friend, Kim Taehyung. Was an extra in his very first big drama role, a historical one where he faced an untimely death. The two of you never crossed paths and shared zero scenes together, but it was still pretty cool. To you. He didn't know you from a hole in the wall and the last thing you'd do was act like anyone's biggest fan.

But, this? What Namjoon was offering... that could be huge. The start that you needed and you wouldn't even have to go through your father. You could do it all on your own... kinda. “Oh! That would be amazing, Joon!? Why didn't...”

As quickly as the excitement hits you, it's being knocked right out of your body. The job that you already have and everything else that surrounded it. No way could you accept this. “Actually,” You're forcing a smile for Namjoon to see, “Let's put a pin in it. I want to focus on the company,” You wonder if it sounds as robotic as it feels.

“Why? You hate that place?” His hand has found yours again, arms swinging slightly as you walk. There's this curious look on his face like you're not making any sense. And you're not.

Why wouldn't you jump on the first chance to ditch that hell hole? The opportunity was right in front of your face, so why wouldn't you take it? You must be an idiot. Stockholm Syndrome? “Can I tell you a secret?” You're whispering despite the fact it's just the two of you on the street.

“Sure,” Gently, he's pulling you just a bit off of the path. Figuring whatever you have to tell him might be something he wants to sit down for, so he's getting comfortable on a bench, tugging you down beside him.

Not once letting go of your hand. “Hoseok is putting out an album in a few months. He's been juggling that and work-work. The time when my dad came down to talk to me... about the whole Hyungwon thing, he said he'd tank the album if I didn't start acting right,” That actually does surprise Joon, eyes going wide as a barely audible gasp leaving his lips.

You can just about guess what he's thinking, 'what kind of father...?'. And the easy answer was, yours. Your type of father would. Your type of father has. “That's why I need to stay focused. I can't screw up, he's been working so hard. I wouldn't be able to live with myself I ruin everything for him. Again.” That was a story for another time.

“Yn. That's fucked up. Does Hobi know?”

Scoffing, your eyes roll automatically. “Of course not and don't tell him. He thinks our dad is the best. 'Strict, but the best'.” Your tone changes slightly to mock his deeper voice. “Thinks he's hard on me only because of how I act and while I know that doesn't help, that wouldn't change anything. We're all just pawns in his game. His stupid Legacy.”

It's weird because you don't even sound sad. Just numb. Like you've accepted that this was how the way things were and this was how they were going to be. He wished there was something he could do, stand up to your dad for you, tell him all the things you're afraid to. But that would be stupid, for him and for you. It wasn't his place and he'd only make it worse. No matter how badly he wanted to just step in, there was really only one thing he could do.

Your hand is much smaller in his, soft and cute. Nails painted a pretty deep blue to compliment the yellow of your dress. Squeezing softly, he's lifting his lips into a smile for you to see. And since he's been trying to take your advice and stop thinking so much, he's lifting your hand. Pressing feather-like kisses against your knuckles.

The gesture so sickeningly-sweet, you're not sure if you should puke or cry. Or both. He's looking up at you, smiling really wide before he's moving closer, lips finding your forehead making you feel warm all over. Butterflies holding a wrestling match in your stomach and you might just burst into tears.

“I can't interfere with your family. Especially when you're not asking me to. Just know, if you ever want to start doing what you really want I'll support it. I'll support you.” You feel the pressure building behind your eyes, the thickness in your throat. All over three stupid words that you had no idea you've been waiting to hear.

It's overwhelming. Desperately fighting back the wetness that teases your waterline. With a hard blink and a huff of air – you're pushing a smile onto your face. Aware of how fake it looks, but it'll have to do as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” You're grinning, hand patting his knee before you're hopping up from your spot beside him on the bench.

A hand extended down to him. “Come on, dessert on me!” You giggle because it feels right. And he takes your hand, allowing you to pull him from to his feet. Tugging him along behind you with your face pointed to the night sky. Not saying anything until you're sure your voice won't break.

And even then it's a quiet mumble, “You've earned something sweet.”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:59

Your hair has gone up. Revealing the slope of your neck and the shimmer on your collarbones. And as you predicted, Joon watches you through the entire process. Lips wrapped around your ice cream cone, holding it in place as your hands move quickly to pull your hair out of your face. His gaze dropping to your mouth as you lick mess the treat his left from your lips.

Hook. Line. And sinker.

“Do you have any weird kinks?” You don't even look at him when you say it, focus on creating a peak on your ice cream cone.

Joon's choking a cough out around his shaved ice, eyes blinking hard as he clears his throat, lifting his gaze up to you. “Excuse me, what!?” An easy laugh falls from your lips, shoulders shrugging slightly. Taking pride in how easily you could fluster. “You know... weird kinks. Things that get you going, but are kinda weird,”

“Like a fetish?” You're shrugging, barely interested in the choice of word. “I'm sure there's a difference, but for the sake of this. Sure,”

He had to have something, there was no way he didn't. Everyone had something and you refused to believe that he was even composed and well thought out in that area. There had to be something that made him lose his cool. Had to be.

“Uhm,” He's clearing his throat, cheeks seeming to grow darker the more time you spent staring at him. “I wouldn't say it's weird, but I like...” His attention falls to his dessert, twirling his spoon around in the frozen shavings. Would you think it was too weird? Consider it a deal-breaker and decide to not talk to him again. You probably wouldn't even care, there wasn't much that you cared about he was finding.

But, you could surprise him. And what if... wait, why was he even stressing about this in the first place!? “Why are you even asking me this?” Such a random topic interrupting your peaceful silence staring at the water.

Again, you lift your shoulders in a shrug. “I'm curious. Here, I'll tell you mine.” You pause to flash a breathtaking grin up at him. “Put your hand up,” Joon doesn't even hesitate to lift his palm, heart stuttering when you're pressing yours against his. As if you're comparing sizes and he can't help but curl his fingers down into the space that's left.

“See that? What you just did? Drives me crazy. And also...” Hand dropping from his to lay flat on his chest and on reflex his muscle is tensing, pecs jumping underneath your touch. It's actually so sexy you contemplate dropping to your knees right then and there. You suppress the urge, but don't make any moves to lifting your hand. “Big hands? And muscles. Phew. Throw in a pair of cute dimples and it's over,”

It's obvious at this point that you're literally referring to him, not intentionally of course. He just happened to check every last one of those boxes. “Why's that?” He's staring at you with these eyes that you've never seen before. Dark and filled with want.

You liked it.

“Makes me feel cute and small, I guess. Like if you... or any guy, but let's just say you, were to use your big hands to pick me up and hold me there while we-” His eyes go wide when he catches on to the end of your sentence, rushing out a frantic, 'Oh okay, I get it!'. Watch as you bursting into a fit of giggles.

He ignores you, taking to peering around the bridge, checking for anyone within earshot that might've heard what you were about to say. Only to find that you two were the only people out here. Unless he was worried about judgmental glares from the birds, you were fine.

“So...” He's starting only after he's done his full scenery check. “You like feeling small, then? That's interesting,” Forever impossible to read, no idea what he meant by interesting, but as always you were running with it.

Steering this night, which had been an amazing date, in a direction that was a little less PG. Brow arched and a smirk playing on your lips, you move into his space. Hand sliding down the front of his body, meeting his waist. Holding a soft grip on the fabric of his sweater, you rise onto your toes, nose just inches from his.

“And? What do you plan to do with this information?” Could swear a small gasp falls from his lips, feeling your free hand tug on the long drawstring of his pants.

There are a million and one thoughts running through his mind right now. Every last one of them revolving around you. How good you look underneath that skirt, how good you smell standing this close to him. The way he could see the faint freckles on your cheeks, faded from your makeup. Yet, through all of his mangled thoughts, there's one that stands out amongst all of them.

You're so beautiful.

And not in the ways that you'd think. Yes, your face fit the standard, and the confidence you carried yourself with was more than deserved, but there was more. Beautiful underneath all of that and he could see it and even with this new stiffness tenting at the front of his jeans, it's all he can focus on.

Soft giggles fill his ears, coming from you realizing the way he was staring at you. Not saying a single word, just looking. “You're stalling. What's yours?” Taking a step back, you allow him a chance to breathe. Just barely noticing the twitch of his arm, ready to pull you close to him again.

“Okay, fine.” Joon's saying with a roll of his eyes, not the annoyed one that you've grown used to. It's playful, cute paired with the smile on his lips. “I like...” Large hand reaches out, landing firmly on your hip, effectively catching you off guard but he doesn't even give you a second to react before he's twisting your back toward him.

A shiver dancing down your spine as the tips of his fingers gently trace the link in the middle of your back. Actually having to bite down on your lip to keep from any noises slipping out in response to his light touch. “That. It looks sexy,”

Now you know how he feels when you tease him. Breathless and flustered all because he touched your back!? Come on, it was about time you got your shit together. Turning in his grasp, your features morph feigning confusion. “You like backs?”

“No! Not just backs. I Mean the dip... and if there's dimples back there. That's always a plus,” He says with a shrug, but you know exactly what he's doing. It was your game, basically invented it.

But judging from the flutter in your chest, he was better at it. “I have dimples back there,” It sounds dumb to your ears, like 'duh, he knows that stupid.. that's why he said it,' but you can't think of anything else to say. Thoughts clouded with how good being touched by him felt and coming up with ways to get more of that.

And he's moving as if he's read your mind, arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling your body to him with this newfound boldness that has a shocked gasp falling from your lips. “I know you do,” His voice is so deep and so sexy, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. You could spend hours just listening to him talk, no doubt. God, you needed to get it together.

“Oh, yeah? You've been sneaking peaks?”

He nods. Like, doesn't even bother to try and hide behind some half-assed explanation why he might've noticed, just owns it. He's so hot. “I'm very observant,” His words have you wondering what else he's noticed about you. How much time did he spend just 'observing', as he liked to call it.

You could figure that out later, there were much more pressing matters at hand right now. Kissing him. Through with the back and forth, you needed to feel his lips against yours. The fragmented memory of the first and only time was quickly fading, you needed something fresh.

With your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, you lean into him. Chin tilted up and eyes slowly falling closed, you're just inches from his mouth when that deep voice of his is breaking through. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Wow, you are observant,” Breathing out a laugh, you're nodding eyes lifting to find his. He even looked good from this close. “Wait.” His quick movements startle you, a not so cute squeal filling the night air as he bends to lift you, effortlessly wrapping your legs around his waist.

You're both laughing, like side aching chuckles. And you're certain you've never seen him like this before. Eyes forming crescent moons as loud snickers fall from his grinning lips. He's pretty. You're so dazed by that simple fact that you don't notice the way his laughter has died down into soft breaths.

Not until silence is falling over both of you and he's leaning up to press his lips against yours. Large hand lifting to tangle in your hair as he kisses you.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:29

And he doesn't stop kissing you. Not on the train home where you sit on his lap and he swallows every last one of your whines. Not on the walk to your place where he keeps his arm around your shoulder, occasionally leaning down to press kisses against your cheeks. Even stood at your doorstep, you're still like teenagers who just discovered making out.

“Do you want to come up?” You're murmuring against his lips, sentences barely coherent through the push of your lips.

He's registering your words a few moments after you've said them, pulling back to reveal the worried expression on his features. Doesn't say anything, though. Like he's stuck between taking you up on your offer and whatever concern is plaguing his mind.

And then it's hitting you. “Hoseok's out with some girl. Just in case you're worried about that,” You don't miss the way his face relaxes, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Pulling a blase expression, moving into your space again. “Why would I be worried about that?”

Eyes rolling, you let out a laugh. “Oh, my mistake.” You mock, turning to unlock your front door. Joon is following steps behind you into the house, no sign of Hoseok in sight. Not like he'd really care, on Namjoon's part. Just give you an ear full about how your actions would affect the company.

So, you're glad he's out. In no mood to hear any of that tonight. “Do you want a glass of wine?” Namjoon is following you into the kitchen, nodding along to your words.

He just can't seem to take his eyes off you. Followed your movements from the pantry to the cabinets all the way to the island where you poured alcohol into glasses for the two of you. Watched the way your lips tickled the neck of the bottle, sucking up the droplets that had spilled, dark eyes finding his the moment you're pulling back.

Daring him. To do something. Anything. Joon knew he needed to be bold. Impulsive. Throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences later. It's how you got what you wanted all the time and right now, he wanted you.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he's rounding the island. Closing the space between the two of you. Hand cupping the side of your face as he wraps an arm around your waist. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, rhythmically. “I don't want wine,” Your heart hammers in your chest.

“What do you want?” You ask, although, you already know the answer.

He takes to showing you rather than telling you, using the grip he holds around your waist to lift your body onto the counter. Stepping into the space between your legs before he's covering your mouth with his.

This kiss is much different from the others, no longer testing the waters. There's determination behind each movement of his lips. Both hands gripping your waist, pulling your body forward until his hips are pressed to yours. His tongue slips past his soft lips to graze your bottom lip. And you're opening up for him without a moment of hesitation, fingers tangling in his messy locks, and pulling – a low groan emerging from the back of his throat.

He's pushing his body flush against yours, hips lifting rightly and you feel the twitch of his cock through his sweats. Sweet moans fall from your lips with every roll of his hips, deliberately pushing down desperate to feel more of him. Your senses are filled with him. The taste of his tongue, the sweet smell of his cologne, how good it feels to have him pressed up against you.

Strong hands roam around your body, gripping the fabric of your skirt tight enough to have it inching up the smooth skin of your thighs. Gently cupping the back of your neck to hold your head steady as he licks into your mouth. He can't seem to make up his mind, greedily wanting to touch all of you at once.

You're meeting everyone of his upward thrusts with a downward roll of your hips, moans growing louder between the two of you with each brush of your most sensitive parts. And you want more. Legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, you needed more.

“Fuck, princess.” He's gasping out, not leaving a moment to spare for you to marvel at the pet name that fell from his lips so easily. His mouth makes steady work on your neck, suck red blotches into your skin as the palm of his hand moves down the front of your body. Sneaking underneath the hem of your skirt, your body jolts when he's pressing the tips of his fingers to your slit through the soft fabric of your panties.

Pretty moans fill the room as he teases you, fingers tight in his hair. Heady becoming heavy for your shoulders as the pleasure he's ensuing washes over you. “Namjoon,” You're gasping, hips bucking up when he's pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. Above the cotton, but each stroke has electricity cruising through your veins.

He chuckles as your whines become more insistent, hips following the movement of his fingers. “That feel good?” Head bobbing frantically, your legs spread wider for him. So sure, you're soaked all the way through from the way he's palming roughly at your panties. He's confirming your thoughts with a groan and a breathy, “You're so fucking wet,”

“Please, Joon. More.” Panting as your hips lift up toward him. He's grinning wide, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your neck before he's nudging your panties out of the way. “So greedy,” He teases, at the same time his fingers find your clit. He's pressing lazy circles into the sensitive nub, taking his time despite the needy roll of your hips. “Tell me what you want,” Dark eyes travel up the length of your body to your face, you don't even bother to mask the moan that slips at the sight.

An experimental finger teases your entrance, sneaking in past the first knuckle before quickly pulling out and repeating the same action. If it wasn't for the solid stiffness pressed against your thigh, you'd guess that he was torturing you for the hell of it. But judging from the steady rut of his hips, he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

You couldn't wait any longer, though. This moment has plagued your thoughts since the first time you were meeting him. What it would be like to be with him like this. Have him fuck you. You'd surely die if it wasn't now. “Fuck me,” The words come out more whiny than you originally intended but, hey. “Please, Namjoon.”

“Soon, princess.” He promises, sinking his middle finger into your tightness. Eyes flickering between your bodies so he can watch the way the single-digit disappears within your walls. So fascinated with the movement of his own fingers and egged on with your pretty moans, he's quickly pushing another finger in.

Namjoon's mouth finds yours, swallowing every last one of your hushed moans as he fucks into you. Scissoring you open with his long fingers, free hand tugging at the bottom of your top until it's around your waist, tits spilling out. He's groaning against your lips as his palm cups you from underneath, thumb lifting to brush against your nipple.

His head is lowering until he's able to latch his lips around the hardening bud. His sharp teeth graze over it slightly, gentle tongue washing over the slight pinch of his bites. You're whimpering at the feeling of his thumb pressing into your clit, back falling against the cool countertop as your hips move in tandem with his fingers.

It's not long before he's nudging a third finger past your walls, lips moving to mouth on the other side. Thumb moving expertly over your clit while his fingers provide such a delicious stretch, you're squirming beneath him. Searching for something to grip onto as the pressure begins to build in the pit of your stomach.

You take to tugging his hair, pushing his face against your chest as your back arches off of the counter. Wanton moans filling the room, you're being so loud but you can't find the strength to quiet down. Not while he's making you feel this good. And then all at once, he's pushing in deeper, fingers curling and brushing against that rough patch of skin hidden deep inside of you.

“Oh, fuck! Don't stop, don't stop.” You're chanting over and over, hips rocking into his palm and Joon has no plans of stopping. Not when you sound like that, each whine and whimper shooting straight to his cock. He feels the way your walls flutter around his fingers and he's quickly lifting his head to watch your face.

There's a sheen layer of sweat on your forehead. Eyes rolled back as your lashes flutter, lips slightly pursed. Jaw falling slack, a breathless gasp slipping at the same time he feels a gush of wetness surrounding his fingers. Incoherent mumbles of thanks fall from your lips as your body shakes. He keeps his fingers buried inside of you, thrusting slowly until your words are dying down to soft breaths.

Opting to give you the time you may need to regain your composure... which only lasts a few seconds before you're sitting up. Arms and legs pulling him toward you. “Fuck, that was so good.” You say through a laugh, mouth finding his in a sloppy kiss as you work to pull his sweatshirt from his body.

Joon follows your lead, working on tugging his sweats out of the way. Your soft hand meets his, gently pushing it out of the way and dipping into the front of his boxers. Palm closing around his thick shaft and your eyes are going wide, fingers not being able to meet around the base.

“Holy, fuck...” Your hand drags over his length, more so measuring him than anything. Excitement igniting in your chest the longer it takes for your hand to meet the tip. Which is leaking with precum at this point, you feel it when your palm finally covers the tip and then use it to make moving your hand back down easier.

His hips follow the movement of your hand, attempting to fuck into the opening your palm created. Spaced out as the pleasure slowly clouds his mind. He looked so good. Chest and stomach flexing as he moves, shining underneath the dull kitchen lights. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched, making dimples appear at the sides of his mouth.

Your free hand slides down the front of his body until the tips of your fingers are brushing against his balls. Massaging them underneath the slight pressure while your wrist twists over his cock. “Yn, baby. Wait... fuck,” His hips are stuttering to a stop, hand reaching down to still the movement of your palm.

“I won't last,” A soft pink dusts his cheeks as he looks up at you, eyes glossed over and barely focused. He's letting out a breathless laugh before he's leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wanna fuck you first,”

The admission is waking up something entirely different inside you. Something you can't easily place and are in no mood to decipher. Instead, you grin, returning the kiss to his lips before grinning. “Fuck me, please.”

That's all he needs to hear before he's taking a step back from you, not giving you a moment to feel his absence before he's sliding you from the counter. Hands on your hips to turn your back to him, his large hand resting on the middle of your back. “Bend over,” Voice deep in your ear, you'd very much walk off the edge of a cliff if he was asking you like that.

You bend forward without any protest, the cool granite pressing against your exposed nipples. Joon holds a hand just above your ass, the other wrapped around the base of his cock – guiding himself toward your aching core. His thick head nudges against your tight hole and you both gasp as you swallow him in.

He takes his time, allowing you to feel every inch as he slips in. And you don't miss the way his thumb has moved to rest in the indent just above the swell of your ass. Pulling your body toward him with his grip. His huffed breath tickling your back the moment he's bottoming out.

Palms formed fists beside you, concentrating on your breathing as you get used to the feeling of being stretched this way. Slowly, he's pulling out until the head is catching at your entrance then he's pushing his way back in, your body sliding up on the counter with the movement. The stuttered movement of his hips slowly shifts into a steady rhythm that has a string of moans falling from your lips.

Strong, bruising thrusts into your backside paired with the gruff groans that escape his throat. He's so deep, the tip of his cock nudging against your g-spot with each thrusts forward. “Fuck, look how perfectly you take my cock, baby.” He groans, eyes glued to the way your lips are wrapped around him.

All you can muster back in response is a weak whine, a garbled cry of big he was... or how good he feels. Mind nothing but mush at this point, the overwhelming pleasure from the way he was fucking, softening your brain. Either way, he takes the incoherent noises as a compliment, speeding up the snap of his hips.

You all about lose it when he's reaching down to grip your hair, lifting your body onto his, keeping a steady movement of his hips as he reaches around you to find your clit. Rolling it between his knuckles until he's feeling that familiar squeeze around his shaft. Soaking up every whimper and every cry as he brings you closer and closer to release.

“You gonna cum again for me, baby?” Gasping out, your head bobs up and down, back arching in hopes to steal more than what he was willing to give you. “Please, make me cum.” He can feel the way your walls flutter around him, the whine in your voice. And since he's inclined to give you whatever you want, Joon's angling his hips in a way that he knows will make you cum.

And it's not long before the pressure is snapping in the pit of your stomach, loud cries filling the room as your hips lift into a shake. Walls clenched so tight around his cock, it's enough to nudge him over the edge. He fucks into you with great fervor, leaning your body back onto the counter as his hips snap against yours.

Thrusts becoming sloppy and untimed as he feels himself falling apart, an odd mixture of curses and your name falling from his lips as he feels his body tense. He's pulling out as a hurried afterthought, hand acting as a lame substitute for your wet core as he strokes himself to completion. Spilling onto your back with a strained groan.

And then the kitchen goes silent, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths and the hum of the fridge filling the room. Neither of you says anything, both trying to come back to your senses. A few moments pass before he's hearing the soft sound of your giggle, body rising off your stomach to turn and face him. He looks so dazed and fucked out, cheeks flushed and eyes blown. Hair a mess and breath ragged. He looked so hot.

A hand finds the back of his neck, fingers tangling into the soft hair there. Joon's grinning when his eyes find yours, an arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling you closer, because it never felt like you were close enough. “We just fucked,” You state the obvious, can't find it in yourself not to.

It was nice. You liked it. You liked him. Everything about him, you just found yourself liking. His laugh. His smile. How easily he was annoyed. The cute dimples. The sound of his voice. You liked him.

“Yeah, we did.” He's replying, a little breathless but he still manages to lean down to capture your lips with his. A short kiss that has you leaning up, silently asking for me. He denies you with a cute shake of his head. “Let's go upstairs. I wanna go down on you,” Okay, bold Joon was something you were definitely going to have to get used to.

He's twirling you around when you don't move to lead him, large hand dropping to tap against your ass cheek, pulling a giggled squeal from your lips. “Ah!” You're laughing when he's reaching to do it again, instead taking hold of his hand. Fingers easily intertwining as you tug him behind you.

His back pressed to yours, cock growing hard against your backside as you lead him up the stairs and into your room. The sound of laughter only growing between the two of you.

Yeah, you liked him a lot.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:58

Your body is warm against his, back pressed to his chest. Soft moans filling the air as he holds you close, pushing into you, chasing yet another release. This time in your bed. With you in his arms and it feels different. It feels nice. It makes him wonder... what's next? If there's something more for him to hope for.

He wanted to be with you, to put it simply. Never would've imagined it'd be you, but now he can't imagine it being anyone else. But things just sometimes worked out that way. Namjoon wanted to be yours, but in turn, he wanted you to be his.

Somehow, he felt like that might be the tricky part of it all.

— daughter of the ceo of the biggest record label, it’s obvious she’d get whatever and whoever she wants. but what happens when she’s meeting the one person that refuses to play into her spoiled brat act?

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

Can you write Fem!Reader that Felix is crushing on falls asleep on him on the couch and he gets all flustered.

Awww precious flustered Felix, how lovely~

Felix (FE3H) x Fem Reader - fluff, SFW

Numbers and letters start to wander and blur on the page before you. Keeping your head upright is challenge enough, but the struggle to wrestle this information into something cogent and actionable is positively draining. When you'd offered to help with the next batch of supply reorder forms, you hadn't quite realized how involved they would be- and after a day of marching and training and memorizing mapped strategies, the greatest battle you face now is against your heavy eyelids. At least you'd found a quiet corner of the library to settle onto a well-worn couch while you work. Try to work, at least.

"There you are."

You glance up over the parchment at the familiar voice, then smile- perhaps a little too earnestly.

"Hi Felix. Sorry, were you looking for me?"

He scoffs, a light pink dusting across his fair complexion.

"No, you just- you left this at the training grounds." he holds out a scrap of fabric, which you take. It's only a cheap handkerchief, hardly worth hunting someone down over. You smile and tuck it away for the time being.

"Thanks Felix, and sorry for the trouble."

He doesn't respond at first, but his narrowed gaze seems to be scrutinizing you intently. You try to think of some way to break the silence, but he sets himself down on the couch beside you before you've come up with any ideas. He leans close, his brow creased.

"You look awful."

You give an awkward half-laugh, your papers near forgotten in your lap,

"Thanks- you're a real sweet talker, you know. Has Sylvain been giving you lessons?"

Felix scoffs and sits back on the cushions, crossing his arms,

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're pushing yourself too hard, and you look like you're about to fall over."

It's honestly sweet, albeit in a very Felix-way. You smile warmly at him, which he appears to intentionally ignore. Then, you shrug and say,

"Well, I offered to help, so I have to do my best."

With a sigh, Felix grumbles,

"Give me something to do to help you. I won't sit here and watch you waste away from being overly-charitable."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"I'm offering," he says with a scowl, "stop being so difficult."

He's avoiding your gaze like he always does when he's nice to you, and you smile sheepishly.

"Here," you say, handing over a small stack of papers, "These are the ones I've already filled out- can you review them to make sure I didn't screw anything up? That way I won't have to spend the time double checking them."

He sets to work without a word, and you continue with the forms you'd set on your lap. The two of you work together in comfortable silence, though you'll admit to a brief flutter in your chest at the occasional brush of physical contact as you sit side by side. You mentally scold yourself for getting worked up over something so silly. Surely Felix would scoff if he knew such trivial contact could distract you so thoroughly. He's shy about emotional matters, sure, but you've no doubt that he thinks little of just sitting together.

And you're, frankly, completely wrong. Felix feels like his skin is scorched with a hot iron every time your bodies touch. Focusing on the task in front of him takes every ounce of discipline he can muster, and even then, his pulse speeds when your arm brushes his. He hates it, and he hates that he seeks it out, anxiously waits for the next opportunity to feel you there beside him.

It's at least another hour before the end of the paperwork seems near. Just a little longer, Felix thinks, and he'll make sure you've eaten something and that you reach your quarters safely. His brow lowers. He doesn't need to do all of that- you're an adult and can take care of yourself. But... he hadn't seen you at the dining hall that night, and you really should at least eat. If he finishes before you do, perhaps he'll go get you something. Ugh, no, that's the kind of unnecessary gesture Sylvain would do to get on someone's good side. Felix doesn't need to get on your good side. He just wants you near at all. For some reason.

He dares to glance over to you, but then his frown only deepens. You're slightly slumped, your eyes have fluttered shut, even though your hands still grip one last checklist in your lap. You sway just slightly. You're leaning forward on the couch. Felix's hand bolts out just in time to nudge you back, but as a result, your body slackens towards him until you're resting fully on his shoulder. His eyes widen, and he can feel his face burning. He opens his mouth to protest at first, but somehow, he can't bring himself to make a sound.

You breathe deeply and nuzzle against him, and his heart feels ready to pound straight through his chest. His body goes stiff from head to toe, unwilling to move even an inch as you lean on him. He glances down at the paper's he'd been reviewing, but suddenly it's utter nonsense to him. How can he think straight with the warmth of your body against his, the scent of your hair, your steady breath along his shoulder and even brushing his neck.

Calm yourself already, he scolds himself, she can't just sleep like this- just get the work done and-

And what? Wake you up? The thought doesn't please him in the slightest. You obviously need your rest, or he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Then, the only thing to do is...

How much time had passed? Had you ever finished all those forms? You can't possibly discern the answer to either of the first questions that enter your mind as you toe the edge of consciousness. You must be more tired than even you realized. You feel like you're floating, and some wonderful scent is circling your senses- something earthy and masculine and... familiar.

"Relax, I'm just bringing you to your room," he says, his voice gentler than you've ever heard it, "Go back to sleep- you need your rest. I've got you."

Your eyes flutter open. You look up, and see Felix. You're in his arms- he's carrying you out of the library. What in the world is going on??

All you manage is a sleepy little groan.

#felix hugo fraldarius #felix x reader #fire emblem #feh #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fluff #fire emblem x reader #x reader

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hardlyinteresting · 3 years

Text

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #professor!zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo #daniel bruhl #baron zemo x reader

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writingsoftheghost · 3 years

Text

Oblivious

Analogince get together story

Logan and Roman had been together for awhile, and they loved their relationship. But...when Virgil started joining the group more and more, the pair couldn’t help but let their attention wander.

It’s not that they loved each other any less, they just...both liked Virgil too. Roman felt bad about it, that is until Logan brought it up.

“I’m sorry!” Roman cries, “I didn’t mean to-”

Logan holds up a hand, “I’m not angry, Roman. Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve also found myself”-he coughs slightly, a red tint dusting across his cheeks- “Captivated by Virgil.”

Roman grins, “Really?”

“Yes, I have to say I find him quite endearing. Do you think it’s at all possible for him to engage in a romantic relationship with us?” He cocks his head to the side, a thoughtful scowl on his face.

Roman nods excitedly, “Oh, I think it’s possible.”

***

Virgil was sitting on the couch, when Roman decided to strike first.

“Hey, Hot Topic.” Roman plops down next to Virgil on the couch, closer than he’d ever sat before.

Virgil looks up from his phone for a second rolling his eyes slightly, “Aw, you think I’m hot.”

“Mm-hmm,” Roman nods. Virgil nearly chokes. “What are you up to?” The prince continues smoothly.

“I...um-nothing?” The anxious side answers.

“Well, that doesn’t sound very fun,” Roman purses his lips in a half pout, “What do you say we watch a movie?

Virgil shrugs, beginning to regain his composure, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Roman nods, he looks at Virgil for way too long and the anxious side can feel his face heating up again, “Why don’t you choose a movie?”

Virgil shrugs, “You can pick, we should invite Logan, though.” He’s hoping he doesn’t come across as desperate as he actually is. He knows bringing the prince’s boyfriend into the mix would take most attention away from him.

“That’s a lovely idea, I’m sure he’d love to join us.” Roman disappears for a brief period of time, returning with a smiling Logan.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?” He smiles at Virgil warmly.

“Good. Do you want to pick the movie?”

Logan hums, “Roman and I would rather have you pick.”

Virgil looks at them both strangely, but he picks out a movie, nonetheless.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Virgil notices both Roman and Logan glancing over at him periodically.

He tugs at his sleeves anxiously, had he done something wrong? They were acting weird.

He wanted to leave the room now, it felt too tense and it was making it hard to focus on the movie.

He makes a small show out of glancing at the clock, “Oh, I should probably get to bed...” He glances at them, hoping he sounds convincing. His heart drops when he sees Logan’s brow furrow.

“You don’t usually go to bed this early, is everything alright?

Virgil tries to mask the massive breath he sucks in, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t sleep great last night. I’m gonna try to make up for it tonight.”

Logan’s frown deepens and Roman’s face falls too, nevertheless they let him go.

“Goodnight, Vee,” Roman calls up the stairs, “See you tomorrow.”

The couple turn to each other as soon as they hear the door to Virgil’s room shut.

Time for plan B.

*****

Logan packs a simple lunch pack, he smiles as he makes Virgil’s favorite finger foods. This plan was much more practical, he told himself.

Roman has left to ask Virgil to “hang out” for the day, Logan hopes he’d be able to convince him, he seemed uneasy the other night during their movie. Roman and Logan spent the last day coming up with this plan, as simple as it was, they thought it would work, Virgil preferred things to be simple after all. He and Logan were alike in that regard.

Logan smiles softly at the thought, however, he was quickly pulled back to reality by the sound of Virgil and Roman approaching.

“Im sure you and Logan would have more fun without me,” Virgil was saying.

“Nonsense, Logan and I both wish for you to join us.”

“Unless you really don’t want to,” Logan interrupts the pair as he steps into the living room.

“I...” Virgil’s eyes fall on the basket of food, “What did you two have planned?”

“We were just gonna go have a quiet lunch in the imagination,” Logan explains.

“And you two,” Virgil looks between the couple, confused, “Want me to come with you?”

Logan nods, “We would greatly appreciate your company.”

Virgil takes a deep breath, “Okay, I guess, as long as you’re both sure.” He glances at both of them, searching for any hint of malice or dislike, he felt bad about ruining their alone time, why would they want him to join them?

Roman smiles at him softly, “It’ll be fun, Virgil. The fresh air will be good for you.”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t need fresh air, Princey.”

Logan grabs their lunch and Roman’s hand, “Are you both ready to go?”

Roman nods enthusiastically, “Been ready for hours! You take forever to make food!”

Logan rolls his eyes, “I like things to be done well, Roman, sometimes that takes a little extra time.”

Roman huffs, “You need anything before we leave, Virge?”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t know, do I need to bring anything?”

“I wouldn’t think so, I’ve packed and prepared for just about everything that we’d need,” Logan assures.

“Okay,” Virgil mumbles, “‘Guess Im ready.”

“Wonderful!” Before Logan can stop him Roman reaches out and grabs Virgil’s hand.

Virgil flinches, but doesn’t pull away fully, he tries not to let Roman see the look of shock and confusion on his face.

Roman loosens his grip on Virgil’s hand slightly, worried he may have upset him, but then Virgil gives a soft squeeze and then, just like that, they’re holding hands, and Roman is leading the way to the imagination with the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever had.

Logan and Roman had already scouted the area they were going to eat at, a nice open field, perfect for easing a certain side’s parano-vigilance. The field contained a total of six trees, so it wasn’t like there could be anything lurking in the shadows.

Logan laid out a soft blanket, one with a texture that they knew Virgil liked, under the biggest tree.

Virgil sat himself on the edge of the blanket furthest from Logan and Roman. It was a big enough blanket for the distance to be noticeable, it made Logan worry that Virgil didn’t want to be there with them.

He had expected Virgil to be a little suspicious, even a little distant, at least at first, Logan knew this would be strange to him, he doubted the socially distant trait had ever been courted before.

“Virgil?” He asks in a calm tone, “Would you like some juice?” He’d been careful to avoid caffeine, knowing it could potentially highten Virgil’s anxiety.

Virgil shrugs, “I guess.”

Logan takes out the bottle of grape juice and the glasses he’d packed carefully earlier that day. When he offers Virgil a glass, he realizes that either he will have to move, or Virgil will have to move, go bridge the distance across the blanket.

Virgil makes the decision rather quickly, darting over and taking the glass from Logan, “Thank you.” He starts to shuffle back to his corner when Roman stops him.

“Why don’t you sit in the middle, Vee? That way you can reach the food?”

Virgil looks to the ground, “Didn’t want to invade your space.”

Logan frowns when he notices the hesitancy in the other’s voice, as if he isn’t sure he’s wanted. Which Logan couldn’t help but groan internally at, they’d invited him and he still feels like an intruder, anxiety truly was devoid of any logic.

“Virgil,” he holds out his hand towards the other in invitation, “You know we want you here, don’t you?”

Virgil won’t look at him, Logan sighs, “You’re more than welcome, here. We invited you, why would we invite you if we wanted you to just sit by yourself quietly? Hm?”

Virgil shrugs, “Dunno,” he mumbles.

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable, stormcloud?” Roman interjects in a gentle tone, he’s aware of the tension in the way Virgil’s sitting now.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says shakily, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s alright,” Roman whispers, “You wanna go back? I’m sorry we pressured you to come.”

Virgil shakes his head firmly, “I wanna stay, I just…don’t want to be in the way. It kinda feels like I’m intruding on a date, why was I the only person you invited? You know Patton loves outdoor lunches.”

“We know, Virgil, we just…” Logan looks at Roman, Roman gives a small head shake and Logan sighs, “We just wanted to spend time with you. We didn’t mean to make you feel awkward, we’re sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I don’t know why I’m being so weird about it, but,” and he slowly slides his hand into Logan’s open one on the blanket, “I think I’ll be okay, now.”

“Are you sure? It really isn’t a problem if you want to go home?” Roman assures.

Virgil nods his head, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Logan smiles and squeezes his hand softly, they all know Virgil likes physical reassurance sometimes, and they’re glad he’s started accepting, and even asking for it on occasion. Patton has to remind himself constantly that Virgil has to be the one to initiate it, however.

Roman pulls out plates and food from the pack, Virgil tries to give Logan back his hand, but he’s quickly stopped, “Please don’t let go until you’re ready, okay?” Logan smiles at him, “My right hand is fully capable of doing this alone, I promise.”

Roman hands him a plate and asks Virgil what he’d like.

They eat comfortably, Virgil relaxes enough to let go of Logan’s hand, but moves closer to him and Roman anyway. Virgil talks about Halloween coming up and Logan tells him that he’s already put horror movies into the schedule for that month.

When they finish their food they continue to sit there and talk quietly. A soft breeze blowing through the field making the place even more peaceful. They were all enjoying a moment of quiet when…

Hic!

Roman sits up and stares at a blushing Virgil in shock.

The emo side ducks his head, “Shut up, Pri-hic!-ncey,” he says in an attempt at a growl.

Roman smirks, “Is there a problem, Virgil? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.”

Logan giggles, “You don’t need to be embarrassed about the hiccups, Virgil. Everyone gets them.”

“I don’t—hic—have the hiccups!” He grumbles.

Roman laughs and Logan laughs, Virgil glares at them both for a moment, but he can’t hold it for very long before he’s laughing too.

“Stop laughing at me!” He shouts between giggles.

“I don’t think,” Roman wheezes, “I’ve ever seen you hiccup before.”

“Shut—hic—up!” Virgil shoves him off the blanket with a laugh.

Roman sits back on the blanket, “Gosh, you’re adorable.”

Virgil and Logan both freeze, Virgil glancing nervously at Logan, Logan and Roman both looking at him, horrified at the thought that they’d just blown it.

“I—uh—”Virgil is still staring at Logan, a look of fear in his voice. Virgil looks at him, the face of logic not giving him any ideas as to what he’s supposed to do. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says softly.

Roman sucks in a harsh breath, understanding the apology as a gentle rejection.

They sit in awkward silence for an eternity.

“Perhaps it’s…time we head back?” Logan suggests in a quiet tone.

Virgil’s heart drops as he decidedly believes Logan hates him now. “Yeah-Yeah, sure.”

They walk back in silence. Virgil stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Roman and Logan keep glancing at him, both taking his silence as a sign of discomfort.

They allow him to go to his room, wincing at the sound of his door shutting softly, not even a slam.

“I ruined it,” Roman whispers sadly.

Logan shakes his head, “We still have a chance, Love.”

Roman shakes his head, “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He couldn’t stop looking to me,” Logan whispers back, “I didn’t know what to say, I chose a cowards way out. I fled.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Roman places a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Logan wraps his arms around Roman’s neck and kisses a tear sliding down his cheek. “We should give him some space, we can check back in tomorrow.”

Roman nods and allows Logan to lead him to bed, not really believing any of the logical side’s attempts to reassure him.

*****

Virgil stays in his room through breakfast. Roman liked him. He should be happy! He likes Roman! But…he likes Logan too, and he’d never wanted to get between them like this.

Logan told him it was alright, Virgil took that to mean that he didn’t really blame him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. He can only imagine the fight he and Roman probably had last night.

Virgil’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about the two of them breaking up.

He didn’t know what he did to ever catch Creativity’s attention but he wished he hadn’t done it. He felt truly awful for doing this to them.

“Kiddo,” there’s a knock at his bedroom door, “You need to eat lunch, it’s almost 1:30.” Patton sounds worried, Virgil hasn’t locked himself in his room like this since he ducked out.

“I’m not hungry, Pat. I’ll eat later.”

Patton frowns, “Virge?” He asks hesitantly. “Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to?”

“I’m fine, Pops.”

Patton isn’t convinced, “Hey…you don’t have to talk about it, but if you don’t want to be by yourself you can come to my room? Might help to be somewhere else for awhile?”

Virgil sighs, “you sure?”

“Of course.”

Virgil opens the door and Patton gives him a sad smile, “come on, I’ll get you something to eat and some tea.”

Virgil nods, “Thank you.”

Patton sits down on his bed next to Virgil, passing him a sandwich and some chips.

“I messed up,” Virgil whispers as he takes a chip.

Patton looks at him in surprise, “What did you mess up, Virge?”

“Logan and Roman, I messed up their relationship. They’re fighting and it’s all my fault.”

Patton scoots closer, “I didn’t know they were fighting. How is it your fault, honey?”

“I just…I don’t know why, they invited me out to lunch with them, and it…it was weird! But then it wasn’t, and it was nice, but…Roman called me adorable and I…I like him, but he’s Logan’s boyfriend and I never wanted to hurt Logan because I like him too and I just… Logan probably hates me now, and Roman and Logan might break up and it’ll be all my fault and there’s no way I can ever make it up to him!” Virgil’s breathless when he finishes. He doesn’t know when he started crying.

Patton shakes his head, he remembers when Logan and Roman told him they liked Virgil. When Logan had asked him what Virgil’s favorite foods were. How Patton made them both promise they would be patient and gentle with Virgil’s already shot nerves.

He can’t help but be a little upset with them for letting Virgil wallow in this all day. He pushes that feeling aside, and decides to help his three hopeless friends out.

“Virge, I can assure you, Roman and Lo are gonna be just fine. But I think you should go talk to them about this. I think there might’ve been a bit of a mix up.”

Virgil cocks his head, “What do you mean?”

Patton shakes his head again, “They’re not fighting, kiddo. I promise, just go talk to them.”

“But I—”

“Trust me.”

And with that Patton is nudging him towards the door and Virgil’s in the hall.

He glances worriedly back at the father figure.

“They’re in Logan’s room last I saw.” Patton shuts the door.

Virgil feels a slight sting of betrayal at having been abandoned to face the pair alone, but he approaches the door anyway.

He stands there for two and a half minutes before knocking.

“What is it?” Logan calls through the door.

“It’s—um—it’s me, I think maybe I need to—”

The door swings open, “Virgil?”

The logical side looks as if he hasn’t slept well, Roman is standing behind him in a similar state. Virgil can just barely see the whiteboard on the back wall covered in incomprehensible diagrams and cluster graphs.

“Hey…” he gives a weird little half wave for some reason he doesn’t understand.

“Are you…alright?” Roman asks hesitantly.

“Me?” Virgil asks in confusion, “Are you two okay?”

Logan nods, “We’re dreadfully sorry, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, we—”

“I got carried away, Virgil. I’m sorry,” Roman cuts Logan off.

“You couldn’t help yourself, I shouldn’t have chosen such an intimate activity for us,” Logan defends his boyfriend.

“No, this is my fault. I’m the one that put the pressure on him.”

“Love, I should’ve planned for this. I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to your feelings.”

“You can’t plan for everything. I should’ve—”

“Hold on a second!” Virgil interrupts, “Did I miss something? What are you two arguing over?”

“It doesn’t matter, Virgil,” Logan composes himself, “We both apologize for making you uncomfortable. It was not our intention, regardless, we understand if you do not wish to go on anymore dates with us”

Virgil stares at him in complete in total confusion. “Dates?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Surely you’re aware of what we’ve been doing. We took you to a romantic lunch! We’ve been flirting with you constantly! What did you think was happening?”

Virgil looks at Logan, the logical side gives a small smile and a nod. “I thought,” Virgil starts, “I don’t know, I guess I just thought we were hanging out, and then I guess I thought Roman was hitting on me. I didn’t realize Logan was.”

“So that’s why you acted so upset,” Roman mumbles.

“Ah, I see. My advances are less…direct,” Logan explains sheepishly.

Virgil nods, “Yeah I got that now, but I thought…that I’d ruined your relationship! That I’d broken you up or something! Oh my god I hardly slept at all last night!”

Logan winces sympathetically, “We didn’t either, but we’re very sorry for distressing you.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil shrugs it off. “But you guys…both of you…want to date me?”

“Of course, if you’d allow us,” Logan smiles, “We both find you quite endearing. Would you be willing to let us continue to romance you?”

“Logan, you make it sound so formal,” roman laughs, but he has an excited gleam in his eye, “You wanna date us, Virgil? You can say no, it’s okay, but if the answer is yes we’d both be delighted to have you as our boyfriend.”

Virgil can’t help it, he’s skeptical, this feels too much like something he’d dream up, he looks both of them in the face, hunting for any sign of a joke or a lie. There isn’t any, just encouraging smiles.

“Yeah, I’d…I’d like that a whole lot.”

He’s quickly wrapped in two pairs of arms, happy laughter filling his ears.

—————

@idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @cute-and-angsty-princess @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword @tranquil-space-ninja @book-limerence

#oblivious #sanders sides #Virgil #Roman #Logan #ts roman #fanfic #thomas sanders #ts virgil #ts Logan #analogince #getting together

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

I can’t believe no one has requested anything for nanami!! He’s such a beautiful man with a big heart (even if he doesn’t show it outwardly) but if possible, whenever you have time, could you do headcannons of nanami with a daughter? Him being a father in secret and how he deals or spends time with a daughter 🥺 thank you for all that you do.

hi hi hi!!! i’m really sorry how late this is!!! with how much screentime he’s recently gotten, i feel like i have a firmer grasp on his character enough to write for him!! i hope you like this ily <3

nanami would be the kindest father there is

i think maybe initially, the idea of having a child really didn’t sit well with him, especially with how he’s so aware of just cruel and horrible the world can be. he didn’t want to bring a child into a world like this, and he didn’t want to have the responsibility of caring for them placed onto him either. but when he held his daughter for the first time, and her small mouth opened to yawn, and chubby, tiny fingers attempted to grasp at his finger, he realized that there is good in the world, and that she’s all of it

while she’s a newborn, he’s the type of dad that looks like he has his shit together, but in reality he does not know what to do. for whatever reason, he’s a single father, so he’s absolutely clueless. spends majority of his time googling nearly every little detail, from “what does it mean when a baby is crying” to “is it normal for babies to sleep 15 hours a day???”

he is a fast learner, however, and he begins to manage pretty well!

he gets extremely emotional whenever a milestone hits. and he’s not as cautious about hiding his emotions around her, because she’s a toddler and she’s his daughter.

the first time he caught her crawling, he froze and just watched in shock as she moved around his apartment, chubby hands splayed out on the floor. but once the initial shock wore off, he began to softly encourage her, kneeling down and outstretching his arms, guiding her to him. he doesn’t cheer loudly when she’s finally in his arms, but he does kiss her on the cheek, tickling her slightly to hear her giggles.

the first time he heard her talk, blabbering out the word “papa,” he nearly cried. he won’t ever admit it, but seriously, his heart clenched in his chest. she had been laying on his chest, fists clenched in his shirt, cooing and blabbering random nonsense as he listened intently, until he heard what vaguely sounded like “papa,” leave her lips. he was sitting up immediately, urging and encouraging her to repeat it until she did. this time, he gasped loudly, lifting her up high in the air and kissing all over her face. he never gets tired of hearing it, ever

the first time he saw her walk, he called out for her name loudly, cheering her on and standing with outstretched arms. with every step she took, he took a small one back, until he finally picks her up in his arms. by now, he’s unashamed of just how proud he is of her, telling her how proud he is, how she’s such a big girl now. (is suddenly overwhelmed at night while trying to sleep at how fast she’s growing up).

every birthday is more special than the last.

nanami spoils his daughter. i know it seems like he’d be really responsible and place limits but he has such a soft spot for his daughter, he can’t say no to her. of course, that comes with exceptions, and he is a relatively strict father in comparison to other parents, but he still does his all for her

i feel like he would try really hard to build a trusting relationship with his daughter, especially when it comes to her being a teenager, but he’s just really awkward about it. it would work though! i see him as being a really open minded parent, one that is willing to listen to anything, and because of that arguments rarely happen (unless she’s being too stubborn).

which moves me on to the next point if him rarely punishing his daughter. yeah sometimes he’ll ground her for like, a few hours, but ultimately, nanami knows how to balance treating her like an equal, and as her age, and also how to care for her because she’s not as experienced with the world as he is. if she does do something wrong, more often than not it’ll end up as a lecture of trying to get her to understand why what she did was wrong, and why she shouldn’t have done it/should avoid situations like that. also there’s a good, big hug and a forehead kiss after

also about them having a good relationship: i see them as being really comfortable with each other, and with physical affection. nanami himself isn’t an affection person, but like most else, that gets thrown out the window in regards to his daughter. forehead kisses from either of them to each other, goodnight and good morning hugs, i love you’s after every phone call, before going to bed, before heading to school. he also enjoys hanging out with her, in general! they have a lot of movie nights, especially on days when she’s not feeling her best, and he likes to take her shopping (to spoil her), and dinner too!! fancy dinner too, because he wants to keep reminding her of the way she should be treated by whoever. he sets the bar high for her.

he wouldn’t entirely mind if she would like to be in a relationship, just so long as she’s at an appropriate, mature enough age and so long as he meets the person and thoroughly gets to know them before they go out with his daughter.

about keeping her a secret; i think he intentionally does it at first, especially with her as a baby because he’s just overprotective like that, but then it just never came up ever and it’s not that he’s ashamed of her, it just never crossed his mind that no one else might not know

like gojō finding out would be because he’s at nanami’s apartment once for some reason and she comes home from school, walking over to kiss his cheek and greet him and he just goes, “hi, sweetheart, how was your day?” because it’s instinct, completely forgetting the fact that gojō doesn’t even know she exists. it’s a shock to the sorcerer. but a nice kinda shock. to nanami’s dismay, he introduces her to the first and second years. it was inevitable, he guesses...

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami x daughter!reader

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samstree · 3 years

Text

Hug a Witcher Day (1/3)

Jaskier writes a new song ‘Hug a Witcher Day.’ It gains insane popularity and Geralt finds himself hugged by random strangers on one day every year. He just wishes a particular bard would hug him too.

By one person’s popular demand, I present to you a touch-starved Geralt, a cheeky Jaskier and a lot of pining.

fluff, hand holding, sharing clothes, yearning, 3k, rated G

read on AO3

It is the most ordinary morning.

The wind is picking up after last night’s rain, a common occurrence in the fall, bringing nice moisture in the air all the way from the sea. The last of the heat washed away to reveal crisp blue sky, stretching all the way to meet the mountain range.

It’s an ordinary morning, except everyone is staring at Geralt.

The inn is not busy this early in the morning, but a few patrons have risen for the first meal of the day. As the witcher sits down at a table, the atmosphere changes instantly. The conversation hushes and eyes start turning in his direction. Some are even giggling with their friends upon seeing him.

Although, there’s no malice, no fear, or disdain.

Only amusement.

It won’t be the first time that a crowd finds a witcher to be a curious sight. Although it is unusual for a town of this scale to have never seen one of them before.

So Geralt pays no mind. He only wants to finish his porridge in peace. His stomach has been rumbling since he missed dinner last night. The hunt took way longer than he anticipated, and by the time he returned, the inn had long since stopped serving. Although the maid—a young girl no more than sixteen—promised to give him an extra portion at breakfast.

Even she’s staring too.

The girl takes a look at Geralt’s finished bowl and hurries to fetch another from the kitchen. She carries the porridge and an extra loaf of rye bread to his table with a smile that gradually lights up her whole face.

Geralt nods as she puts them down, confused at the good mood of this whole establishment.

His confusion grows when she doesn’t leave. Instead, the girl lingers a moment, as if working up her courage, before bending down to circle her arms around Geralt.

He has to fight every instinct in his body to stay still and let her hug him. Her arms are squeezing gently, not the too-tight kink. Her curled locks are all over his face. When she pulls back, her round cheeks are flushed like a beet, the grin now carrying a hint of embarrassment.

“Why—”

“Thank you, master witcher!” she exclaims chirpily.

“What for?” he frowns.

“For getting rid of the fiend, of course!” She’s almost taking offense at the question. “Right before today, no less.”

“What’s so special about today?”

“It’s the day before Saovine, sir. Do you not know?”

Well…no. The passage of time registers too vaguely when he’s traveling alone from one town to another. The contract last night was no different from the last five.

Geralt doesn’t want to think about how monotonous the path is without a companion, or he’ll have to admit to himself that he’s missing the bard and his ridiculous songs and too-loud playing. He won’t do it, even in the safety of his own mind.

Still, her answer doesn’t explain anything.

“The day before Saovine!” she must be seeing his silence as an encouragement to continue. “It’s Hug a Witcher Day!”

Geralt drops the spoon into the porridge. Biting back a curse in a child’s company, he fumbles to fish it out.

“Hug a—what?”

“It’s how the song goes! Hug a witcher and thank him for the work he’s done. All the monster-killing in the past year!” Her smile turns to a tiny frown. “And you, sir, just killed that fiend for us last night. As the lyrics say, it’s only right that I hug you!”

“It was…my job. And why does it have to be Saovine?”

“It’s the day before Saovine, sir. It’s the last holiday before witchers rest for the winter. It’s only right to thank them now.” she proclaims proudly. “Have you really not heard ‘Hug a Witcher’?”

Should he have? Before asking the next question, Geralt has an inkling that he already knows the answer.

“Whose song is it?”

“Who else? Your bard of course. Master Jaskier the bard!”

The words your bard somehow lands on a soft spot in Geralt’s chest.

Although Jaskier hasn’t traveled with him for months. Geralt doesn’t pay attention to the bard’s new hits because they will eventually reach his ears anyway. Jaskier can never pass an opportunity to serenade him with every new composition when they are alone by a campfire, looking for the witcher’s personal reviews no matter how well-received by the public they appear to be.

“Hmm.” Geralt calculates the distance between where he is and Oxenfurt. This ‘Hug a Witcher’ song, in fact, is spreading faster than any of Jaskier’s famous ballads.

A hug can’t be worse than being tossed coins, right?

It keeps happening for the rest of the day.

First, it’s the stable hand. Geralt is just trying to load his pack onto Roach when the young lad comes in. He doesn’t try to hug Geralt, only giving him a polite nod.

“Thank you. For your work, sir,” the lad says, before helping Geralt saddle the mare. “Like the song says, eh? Thank a witcher so no monster will plague you in the coming year.”

And then, it’s a few small children. A flock of them suddenly come out of nowhere and just… cling to his legs.

“Thank you master wiiiiitcheeeeer!” They shout in unison and drag the last few syllables longer and longer. And then the group disperses just as quickly as they gathered, giggling and running off to an alley.

All except one.

The smallest one stays at his feet, looking up and staring at him.

“Hug!” the boy stretches out his short arms.

Geralt blinks.

The boy stares, eyes wide and expectant.

So Geralt has no choice but to bend down and let the boy wrap those short arms around his neck.

“You’re welc—"

It’s over in a second and the child is rejoining his friends, who are now peaking their heads out of the corner of the alley. Excited squeals erupt among them.

Geralt feels the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

When he gets to the market, a few shop owners are smiling so brightly and offering discounts. Roach gets a horseshoe and an apple for free within the first hour. The silversmith shouts out thanks before jogging up to him and pulls him in for a bear hug.

“Hug a witcher for luck,” she says.

“No, it’s for good harvests!” an old man corrects her.

They keep coming.

But everyone has a different reason and it makes Geralt wonder how many versions Jaskier has for this one song. Or, he dreads to think, how long it is.

“Hug a witcher and death will avoid your door.”

“Hug a witcher for a merciful winter.”

“Hug a witcher for good rain!”

“Thank you, master witcher.”

“Thanks, sir, for your service!”

“Geralt! You need to control your bard!”

Lambert growls as he slams into the heavy wooden door of Kaer Morhen keep, stamping his foot to shake off the snow.

Turning another page of the book, Geralt refuses to look at his younger brother when he’s in a grouchy mood.

“What did he do?” he asks nonchalantly.

“You know—" Lambert grits his teeth. “—what he did.”

The youngest wolf sits down, crowding Geralt’s space, his cloak still wet from the storm outside. Geralt raises an eyebrow but stays on the book. He is not going to make it easier for his brother.

After seconds of silence, Lambert finally gives in. “His song!”

“You can’t possibly be mad about Hug a Witcher.” Eskel walks in and also sits at the table, the sewing kit and a ripped shirt in hand. “It’s a good one.”

“I’m a witcher! They saw me and tried to hug me!”

“So?”

Like Geralt, Eskel only fuels the youngest wolf’s exasperation. He even starts to thread the needle, completely unfazed.

“So?” Lambert pulls off his cloak and the water splashes all over Geralt’s book. “For a whole day, people tried to touch me. A whole day, Geralt! All thanks to your bard and his blasted song! I couldn’t even get out of town without those folks jumping on me.”

“And? I don’t know about you, but I appreciate some showing of gratitude. Thank your bard for me, will you?” Eskel nudges at Geralt.

“Hmm.”

“I don’t care,” Lambert continues, pointing a finger at Geralt. “Tell the bard to stop this nonsense, or I will stop him myself and he won’t be as pretty afterwards.”

Geralt finally dogears the page and faces his brother’s tantrum. He wonders if the crease between his eyebrows is tight enough to crack a walnut—it might be fun to try one day. “Or you can just not let them,” he deadpans.

“What?”

“You are a witcher, the best one among us—according to yourself.” Geralt tilts his head, squinting. “Are you telling me you couldn’t fend off some villagers who were only trying to give you a squeeze?”

Lambert’s face stills, his index finger hanging in the air. In front of Geralt’s unblinking eyes, his face turns redder and redder.

“Urgh,” with an annoyed wave, Lambert storms off the same way he stormed in, all the while muttering all kinds of colorful curses.

Geralt purses his lips as to not let out a too-obviously laugh, but at the corner of his eyes, he notices Eskel shaking his head in amusement.

“All jokes aside, I liked the song.”

Geralt shrugs.

“Jaskier knows how to make them go around.”

“No, I like the day that came with the song. Just about a decade ago, people barely thanked us for a job well done, but now? Lambert is a prick, but I don’t mind having a pat on the back after spending a whole year on the path. Don’t you think?”

“Hmm.” He shrugs again.

Eskel has put down his needlework and is observing him intently. Both of his brothers are so weird about this, Geralt reckons, but on opposite sides of weird. Maybe that’ll be the bard’s review when they meet in the spring.

“Maybe you are indifferent because your bard already knows to appreciate you, wolf. Being your barker and all. Was he thrilled to see the rest of the world catch on?”

Geralt frowns while opening the book again, not sure where this is going.

“Jaskier wasn’t with me during Saovine.”

“No?” Eskel is moving into his space too. Urgh, the two of them. “You bard got the whole continent to hug you, but he wasn’t there to give you one himself?”

“No.”

A sudden surge of irritation rises, but Geralt isn’t sure why. All he wants to do is read the damn book without his brothers nagging him about how terrible or how amazing this ridiculous day is.

“Hmm.” Eskel mirrors his hum. Every time the older witcher does this is because he’s trying to figure out something, and Geralt has no intention of finding out.

“I’ll read elsewhere.” With a loud snap of the book, Geralt leaves the room in a few quick strides.

He has a feeling that this lousy mood might stick with him for a while yet. At least until he can leave Eskel’s inexplicable prodding and Lambert’s grumpy ass behind.

“I know you don’t like the touchy mushy stuff, Geralt. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they would actually hug you all day long!”

Jaskier looks so contrite that his hands are reined in from his full-body gestures, and that’s how Geralt knows the guilt is genuine. His fingers are fidgeting with the hemline of his winter doublet and his hands, exposed in the chill, are turning red.

It’s still quite early in the spring, since Geralt has come to find the bard in Oxenfurt as soon as the ground thawed. A cold spell is hitting the town pretty hard, although Jaskier is sure that it’ll be the last one before green returns to this town.

It doesn’t help that snow has been steadily falling and melting at the same time during their stroll around campus. The bard shivers a little.

“It’s fine,” Geralt says, taking off his own scarf and wrapping it around Jaskier’s neck.

“It is not! Once again, I have been so focused on my professional achievements and forgotten about the impact those songs have on you. All of you.”

Jaskier helps Geralt adjust the scarf so it covers all of his neck and the lower half of his face. It’s made of the warmest yarn Vesemir keeps at Kaer Morhen, but the plain color is a stark contrast against the delicate design of the bard’s fur-lined doublet. In comparison, Geralt’s scarf looks too coarse to be there, but Jaskier seems content enough to bury his face into the material, letting out a soft sigh.

His hands still look cold, so Geralt removes his gloves as well.

“Eskel likes it. The song and the day.”

Those words seem to lighten Jaskier’s mood. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

“Really? He likes Hug a Witcher day?”

“Mm-hmm.”

The bard flexes his stiff hands before sliding into the leather gloves. They fit surprisingly well with Jaskier’s long fingers, only a bit loose on the wrists, so Geralt makes sure to fasten the cords. He then holds both Jaskier’s hands between his palms, just to warm them up a little.

Can’t let a lutenist complain about frostbite on his fingers.

“Says it’s nice to be appreciated for all the hard work he’s done. The hugs aren’t bad either,” Geralt explains. “Eskel never minded them anyway.”

“And you?” Despite his slight apprehension, Jaskier’s eyes are filled with careful hope. “Do you mind them?”

With a final squeeze, Geralt lets go.

“I told you it’s fine.”

“You don’t have to say it to make me feel better, my dear. I know how you don’t like people touching you,” the bard says, reaching out to brush off some snowflakes on Geralt’s shoulder with a gloved hand.

Geralt frowns, looks down to Jaskier’s casual touch on his shoulder, and then back to his concerned blue eyes.

Why on earth does Jaskier think he hates touches? The bard himself touches him all the time, at least in the past couple of years. Not at the beginning though, when they were barely friends and Geralt told him to fuck off all the time and not to feed Roach treats and—

And when Geralt punched him in the gut just to drive him away.

He’s seen Jaskier hug so many people, countless flings, long-term lovers, his parents, cousins, even other bards. He’s seen Jaskier hug Essi just this morning while being teased by her relentlessly about something Geralt didn’t understand. Must have been an inside joke.

But never him.

Jaskier never hugs him.

The realization sinks Geralt’s heart somehow. The cold wind suddenly cuts a lot more brutally on his bare neck and hands.

He doesn’t mind a little nip when Jaskier is the more sensitive one, being human and all. But at this moment, with the bard all bundled up in a soft doublet with those feathery puffs on his shoulders, he looks like he can give great hugs.

Jaskier looks so…huggable.

Geralt wonders what it would be like to take Jaskier in his arms and squish him over those thick, airy clothes. He wonders if he can bury his nose into his scarf—now it would smell like a mixture of Jaskier’s floral scent and the wood ash that always lingers around Geralt’s person. He would pull away to see Jaskier’s cheeks painted pink in the cold air and snow melting on his long lashes—

“You are just saying it, aren’t you? I have deeply offended you.” Jaskier interrupts those wandering thoughts because he has taken the silence as anger. His expression can only be described as crestfallen. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be too mad. I cannot lose my best friend. I simply cannot take it, Geralt! I will die of a broken heart!”

The plea is so dramatic that Geralt lets out a chuckle.

“Will you relax?” he pats Jaskier on his puffy sleeve. “I’m not mad, little poet. It truly is fine. Some children hugging me on the leg is not the end of the world.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Somehow, Geralt knows that if Jaskier decides to also give him a hug that day, it won’t be the worst thing either. Hug a witcher to thank him, it’s the bard’s own words. He’s protected Jaskier from angry spouses so many times it will definitely warrant a hug, right?

“Good, then.” Jaskier lowers his face into the scarf again, pretending to hide from a draft, but Geralt can see the faint smile around the corners of his eyes. “I’m glad your brothers also enjoyed my contribution to what will become the next official holiday.”

“Oh no, that’s just Eskel. You should avoid Lambert this year.” Geralt grimaces. “Maybe the next few years too.”

Jaskier is taken aback but recovers quickly.

“Well, I’ve got you to protect me from his wrath, my friend who’s not angry with me.” The smile, this time, is genuine and brightens up Jaskier’s whole being. His arms stretch out in a pose once more. “Where shall we go when spring comes? You know, when it really comes.”

Jaskier grimaces at the sky as if judging it for the untimely harsh weather blocking their way.

“Hmm.”

Geralt is in no hurry to determine the where of their journey this year, but the when of it…

A sudden ache in his chest tells him that maybe he should stick with Jaskier until Saovine.

Or at least the day before.

---

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier fic #geraskier #my writing #touch-starved geralt #soft jaskier #soft geralt #mutual pining #emotional hurt/comfort #but in later chapters #geralt x jaskier

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

let's have some gentle fun - m

Dedicated to anyone who is left thirsty after Drown; there is a sprinkle of Disappear as well, so beware.

This is written especially for @to-all-the-stories-i-love thank you so much for your support and I really hope you will like this oneshot! I apologize for the wait dear ❤

Word count: 7K

🛑 This one shot contains explicit mature content and alcohol consumption. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the themes or under 18 (also dont listen to Drown then). Thank you!

You had seen them a couple of times in the club. Their swaying bodies, his wandering hands and her obnoxious roll of hips couldn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Well, anyone who didn’t look particularly close (unlike you had been doing for the past hour).

Despite the loudness of the music, you always thought you could hear people’s conversations in the dark room full of dancing bodies. It was most probably a defect caused by your occupation but you never minded - the frustration of customers when you couldn’t hear their orders over the deafening house music was something you wanted to avoid at all costs and you did. You were thankful until now. Hearing their (imaginary) conversation did you little to no good.

Before you could purse your lips in distaste, someone elbowed you, effectively gaining your attention. “Huh? What?”

Your co-worker and the owner of the club, Jiyong, smirked, shaking his head. The tattoos littering his skin were shining brighter tonight. “Troubles in love land?”

You scrunched up your nose, pretending to be oblivious. Pretending. It was second nature almost. “Dunno what you’re talking about, dragon,” you replied quietly but loudly enough for him to hear you. He was mixing drinks, preparing them on the tray that you were supposed to bring to that cursed table with half of your “friends”. What were friends anyway?

“You need to resolve this unknown issue then,” advised Jiyong, grabbing a whisky. When you noticed where he was pouring it, you gasped, reaching out to hold his arm. He shot you a questioning look. “Huh? What is it?”

“Why are you pouring it into the coffee? Who the hell ordered coffee?” It was a freaking night club.

Jiyong only chuckled and winked your way before proceeding to pour the whiskey into the small cup of espresso. “I’m pretty sure it’s your table.”

Oh.

Looking behind your shoulder, you noticed some of your friends laughing at the VIP section. They didn’t know you arrived at your shift and took over their orders. But now, you were getting a hunch about who ordered the weird combo.

“Here,” Jiyong brought you back to planet Earth. “You need to do something with that stare of yours, really,” he commented before moving on to the next orders. “I’d piss my pants were I to be on the receiving end of it. You’re scowling.”

You gasped and snatched the tray skillfully, throwing him an offended frown which only prompted him to chuckle. You were marching towards the table of your friends.

They all welcomed you with cheering but you knew better than that. It was just a clout; some way to make you feel like you were cool and important before they would quickly forget about your existence. You made sure to ask out loud (while smiling) who wanted which drink until only coffee was left and you had to face the inevitable.

She was sitting on his lap from sideways, which you thanked all the club gods for, because nobody wanted to see her straddling him. Well, you didn’t for sure.

Baekhyun smiled at you kindly, his eyes following your movements the entire time despite having a beautiful chick sitting on his thighs. Gulp. Those thighs.

“Thank you,” he made sure to say, when you stood up to your full length. Shooting him a very pressed, almost painful smile, you nodded once, accidentally meeting his gaze that you thought was not on you any longer.

You were wrong. But were you wrong as well when you always felt electricity curse down your veins whenever you would look at each other? Was the attraction just from your side? Why was he so hard to approach yet so easy to talk to once you actually managed to spike up a conversation?

Right. Your friends always snatched him away. While he was the center of the circle, you were the edge; the misunderstood one yet always invited. Doing chatty-chats with the famous ones in the circle of your friends seemed to be hard because if they didn’t really vibe with you, they’d made sure you could feel it. Baekhyun not once did, yet his apologetic smiles whenever someone wanted to talk to him when he was about to start a conversation with you, hurt more than any of your other friends’ attitude.

Reciprocating his stare a little longer, you finally turned, thinking he would be paying attention to the pretty lady on his lap. Yet again, you were wrong. He was looking even when you were far gone and back to the bar to continue your shift.

He was your neighbor, too. How damn lucky. Living on the same floor should have been a blessing; the best news for someone with a crush as crazy as yours, but it was anything but.

Hearing him bring his girlfriend home, hearing them do stuff made you sick in your stomach but you never said a word. If anything, you were glad at least he could have a certain someone with whom he could spend the intimate times with.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so open. Despite working in a club, you rarely ever let another man touch you or agree to their invitations; you did receive many of them on a daily basis but club was a workplace for you and certainly not your kind of fun. Of course, pretty much every one of your friends had the misconception that you were wild and had banged half of the town given your curves, the way you dressed those curves and sending convincing, confident smiles. You were pretty sure Baekhyun believed in them, too, and it made you sad for some reason. If there was one person you didn’t want to think you were promiscuous or too open-minded, it was him.

Currently, it was eight in the morning when you were just typing in the code to your apartment. A small headache and swollen ankles made you want to pass out on bed, too tired after work. Just when you were about to close the door behind you, someone called out your name before you heard rushed steps.

Quickly opening the door and recognizing the voice, you felt your heart skip a beat when you noticed Baekhyun on your doorstep.

“Hey,” he smiled, somewhat sheepishly. He was in his work attire - very, very handsome suit. He wasn’t wearing a jacket over the dress shirt which made you momentarily distracted when you stared at the way the textile stretched over the broadness of his shoulders. The necktie seemed so thin compared to the vastness of his shoulders.

Bringing your eyes back to meet his, you caught a smirk and you quickly cleared your throat. “Hey. What’s up? You’re up early.” Oh god, you knew he was heading to the company, why would you say such nonsense?

He let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, just in time to catch you,” he winked and your heartbeat became erratic. “Could you please lend me baking soda?” Your eyes widened in surprise and he added: “I mean- if you have. I forgot that I don’t have one but I already started on the cake.”

It took you exactly three seconds to overcome your surprise and nodded hastily, opening the door wider for him to come in. “Sure, sure. Don’t stand outside, what will people think, huh,” you added sarcastically which earned you a snort in return. You took off your trainers and rushed to the kitchen, meanwhile thinking where the hell you had baking soda. It’d been a while you used your kitchen for its actual purpose.

“Nice flat,” Baekhyun commented, looking around with curiosity.

You smiled to yourself while you opened a cabinet. He was living in the middle unit of the corridor and those were the priciest of apartments in the building. The side ones were for poorer people, like you. The fact that he still had the need to compliment your small but cozy apartment made you feel warm.

“I like how you wisely use up the space,” he continued, eyeing the small, dark green couch that had a cream-colored carpet in front of it. You liked to bury your feet into the fur while watching tv. “You have an eye for design.” He stood now next to you and it made you momentarily freeze.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, not looking his way. “I prefer to think twice about what I’m spending my money on.”

Baekhyun smiled, endearment visible but not to you. When it came to him, you didn’t want to admit to anything you saw, for it could be just a product of your desires.

“I like that,” he said in a lower tone and this time you made sure to keep searching despite electric shocks spiking through your heart. “There is so much more to you than it meets the eye.” He looked around your kitchen, pushing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “I feel like you’re so much more interesting than you ever let on.”

Baking soda. Finally. Grabbing the package you handed it to him with a triumph. “You could hardly know when you’re so busy with your own, uh, stuff.” When Baekhyun didn’t accept the package, you pushed it into his chest. “Not like half of you all care, anyway.”

Baekhyun messily grabbed the package, almost dropping it as he tried to save the situation. “No, that isn’t the truth. Of course we care-“

You giggled. “You’re so cute. Of course I don’t mean it!” you exclaimed, faking a genuine smile. “I have a man hiding in the closet so...“ you said, wanting him to be out of your apartment already. Bad decision.

“You have a what?” he frowned, confused.

Licking your lips, you raised an eyebrow. “You heard me. Go before your precious lady needs to wait for you any longer. Not that I’m throwing you out of the house-“

“You have a man here?”

Both of you were quiet now. He was staring into your eyes, something so hard for you to decipher flashing in those deep orbs. His eyes seemed almost black, swallowing up every light that dared to enter including you.

“It’s what you all think about me, isn’t it?” you mumbled quietly. “That I bring men home, that I’m the quiet before the storm. I know that’s what you all say behind my back. I’m just living up to your knowledge.”

Baekhyun’s face became unreadable. His features evened out. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You laughed. “Whatever mood you’re talking about-“

He stepped closer, silencing you right away. “I know people are judgemental fucks but I would have always said otherwise about you.”

“Meaning?”

He gave you a lopsided smirk, not reaching his eyes. “I can hardly judge you when I know so little about you. I never believe those rumors and you shouldn’t give a damn either. If anything, you’re the most intriguing among our friends.”

He couldn’t tell, but breath hitched in your throat from the way his eyes were drinking you up, their intensity burning every sane thought you could produce. “Then why do you always yield to those friends? We had many chances to talk. But it wasn’t me who always turned around at the last moment.”

The tension was almost palpable when you were looking up at him.

He didn’t reply and you realized the headache you were gifted with today. Sighing tiredly, you smiled up. “Whatever. Don’t answer that. Go. I bet your girlfriend is waiting.” When he didn’t move, you snorted a laugh. “Why are you even baking at this hour? You’ll be late to work.”

Only after that he let out a sigh and made a few steps backwards, watching you. “My girlfriend is my secretary. Thought I’d surprise her with a cake.”

And the mood was dampened yet again. Pressing your lips together, you nodded, crinkling up your eyes to show him you were smiling instead of dying. “What a wonderful employer you are. Bet she’ll be loving it.”

“What’s your favorite cake?” he asked curiously as he backed all the way to the door where he stopped, making you groan inwardly again. He pursed his lips, staring you down and causing goosebumps on the back of your spine. “I’d say you're a raspberry cake person.”

“Raspberry?” you scoffed but laughed nonetheless

He hummed, his eyes becoming droopy as he observed you without a word.

Swallowing, you breathed. “Care to explain yourself?”

Slowly, the side of his lip stretched up in the most flirty way you’ve ever seen on him and you swore you felt something move inside you. “Maybe one day.”

He turned around and raised his hand with the baking soda packaging, shaking it. “Thanks for this!”

You watched him enter his unit but not before he looked back at you. Waving one last time, he disappeared inside, leaving you with a wildly beating heart and a very bothered mind.

He broke up with her. You knew for a while when there was barely any movement in his apartment (not that you eavesdropped!) and then the small gossips began in your friends’ circle.

This was just another gathering, another evening full of fake smiles and small talks because you couldn’t win yourself more than that; an actual deep conversation. Baekhyun was absent but someone said he was on his way which, to your dismay, made your heart beat wildly in your chest. Quickly gulping down the whiskey, you made a face but didn’t follow it up with a soft drink.

“It was a bad break up,” you heard from the girls chatting nearby. “But it was him who let her go. She cheated on him with the CFO.”

Your heart involuntarily dropped at the information. Who, in their right mind, cheated on such a gorgeous man like Byun Baekhyun?

“She wanted him back but Baek was adamant. I guess he is truly a man of his words. I wonder who will be the lucky one next? Just imagine fucking hi-“

Thankfully your phone vibrated just in time. Quickly fishing out your phone, you saw a couple of text messages from Jiyong.

sorry to bother you sweets i’m short on staff tonight pls save me by coming in? u won’t have to work during holidays promise

Weirdly enough, you couldn’t have been more happy to get out of the suffocating atmosphere. At least you had the needed push of whiskey and with a fairly good mood could stand up and bid farewell to everyone, though they didn't care much.

Just as you were about to leave the restaurant, Baekhyun entered. With a single glance, he pinned you to your place because as the wind blew from the outside and his coat fluttered around, while his hair was messily falling into his dark orbs, you forgot how to breathe.

“Yo, Baekhyun’s here! Finally, man!”

The shouts were coming from your table while none of them even bothered to call out to you.

Smiling softly, you mumbled a hi before reaching for the door he was still holding open before you felt his arm grab yours swiftly, turning you to look at him. He seemed out of breath.

“Where are you going? I just arrived.”

“I’ve got a last minute plan. They need me at the club tonight,” you replied, pressing another smile while trying hard to control your frantic heart. You became all too aware of his touch on your arm but he wasn’t about to let go for whatever reason. “They’re waiting for you, Baek,” you added quietly when the shoutings weren’t subsiding.

Baekhyun didn’t spare a single glance at his friends when he took your hand and led you out of the restaurant. “Let me drive you. It’s already late.”

“No, it’s fine, really-“

“I insist,” he chuckled, swiftly pushing aside your protests. “It wouldn’t have been fun without you there anyway.”

You wanted to stop and stare at him but you decided against it. He was affecting you too much and you could already feel your trembly hands because he was still holding you.

“They just talked shit behind my back, didn’t they,” he asked, sounding more like a statement, and with one last squeeze let your hand go. He pushed his hand into the pocket of his coat and you couldn’t help but swoon at how handsome he was despite being after a break up and a possible heart ache.

You decided to keep quiet in means to communicate the answer. Baekhyun was smart so when he snickered, you knew he got the message.

His black Audi was parked just by the curb, looking like the horse of the dark knight, easily becoming one with the night. Baekhyun opened the passenger’s door for you, but you almost instantly froze when he stood a tad too close to your body, your face right next to his neck as he covered your entire being with his. He gave a pointed look to your short skirt and you understood, while growing a little warm at his thoughtfulness.

Those couple of seconds while he rushed around the car to sit next to you were a little delirious. The way your hand was still burning up from his touch, feeling like you’d been caressed by love itself. The quietness of his expensive car, the smell of the leather mixed with a small hint of forest, the way it felt so comfortable to sit in it with the seat set low and making your legs so high. The way all the sounds were blocked out and nobody could see inside given the tinted windows. All your senses were high on alert and when you heard the opening of his door and him swiftly sitting down and adjusting himself behind the wheel, you felt your throat go dry just a little bit.

You didn’t realize your mouth was slightly open, lips gently parted before the man himself turned to you with a cheeky smile.

To save yourself you quickly blurted: “What a lovely car you have here, Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun let out an amused laugh as he buckled himself with one hand, while his other one fumbled with the radio. He shot you a look. “Thanks. I’m quite proud to have it, not gonna lie.

“It suits you,” you added, and let out a little oh when he pressed the button and the car came to life. “I always thought you’d be a black car kinda guy.”

He shot you a curious look before looking back at the traffic as he tried to make a turn to the main road. “What does that mean, missy?”

You giggled at the nickname and you heard him heave out a low chuckle too. “Just a thought. Nothing much.”

He hummed, entertained, when a comfortable silence enveloped the inside of the car. “I will take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to focus very hard on the world outside instead of his leisure stance on the driver's seat; left hand preoccupied by the wheel while the other casually rested between the two of you. “You should.”

You said it so quietly you genuinely didn’t think he would hear it. Leaving you in the utter obliviousness, Baekhyun heard your voice loud and clear but didn’t acknowledge it. To the ever-so soft spoken you, he always was ready to listen, ready to get to know you. Just like you had trouble keeping your stares to yourself, he wasn’t anything different; that darned short skirt hiking a tad too high on your thighs for him to keep his cool. Your legs seemed endless in the passenger seat of his car and he never wanted to pull over this much in his life.

Heaving out a sigh, he said: “Mind if I join for a bit? I think I need a drink,” he told you once he stopped at the curb, the streets yet to be filled up with party people.

Shooting him a look while you unbuckled your seatbelt, you nodded: “Sure. Will that be okay, though?” You nudged your chin towards him. “You’re driving.”

Baekhyun smiled and automatically reached out, tapping your knee gently. “Don’t worry, I have my ways.”

You sprung out of the car, breathing heavily because god damn, did he just touch you? You. Wanted. More.

It didn’t take you long to prepare for the shift, Jiyong basically squeezing the life out of you for saving him at the last minute. “But shit, who is that dude with you?” he asked quietly in awe when you were standing at the other side of the bar, sneakily watching Baekhyun sip his drink. He was standing out, still being in his work attire - a gorgeous striped suit, with his long Burberry coat and almost white hair lusciously licked back, having only a few strands obscure his handsome forehead. He didn’t look like he came clubbing for sure. But he certainly looked like a good time after clubbing.

You tried to keep your saliva back. “He is just a friend.” You cringed at the sentence. “He broke up with his girlfriend recently, so he might get shitfaced soon.”

That was what you genuinely believed in. Why else would he come with you if not to drink away his hurt emotions?

Jiyong threw you a quizzical look. “You know, you can be super oblivious sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?”

He smirked. “That man kept eyeing you up and down ever since you entered my club. I was worried he’d start drooling all over the floor.”

You rolled your eyes. “As I said,” you pressed skeptically, “he broke up with his hot assistant. There is no way someone like him would want someone like me.“

Jiyong nudged you, not giving two damns about your worries. “Make him forget her then.”

“What?”

“C’mon, sweets,” purred Jiyong confidently, always the one up for a game, “ease up a bit, have a glass or two and make him forget. He definitely wants to forget.”

You stared at him, wondering, imagining and then ending up finding the idea ridiculous. Baekhyun would never give in to your advances even though they would be completely honest, be it intoxicated or not. The idea of kissing him sent shocks down your body.

“Whatever. Let’s see what the night brings,” you murmured when you accidentally caught Baekhyun’s eye. The warm, wide smile he gave you in that instant could heal all the illnesses. Could you cure him, though?

“Baek, just head home,” you told him two hours later. He was patiently waiting for something that you didn’t know about, his drink long forgotten. He wasn’t even tipsy when he looked at you with wide, bright eyes.

“I’ll wait for you,” he told you gently.

You looked confused. “Listen, there is no need. I still have work to do and-“

He ran his hand over your forearm, bringing goosebump up. “I really don’t mind though. I want to take you home.”

The way he was looking at you… it was all so surprising and telling a story by itself. He bit his lip when you didn’t reply and you still refused to believe that spark of want in his eyes. “Hm? Unless I’m bothering you, in that case…” he retreated his hand quickly and you were fast to shake your head and grab it back. You rested your hands on his thigh, wanting to irk him. Baekhyun instantly smiled. “I take it I’m not bothering you?” he teased.

You sighed. “If this is because of your ex…” you trailed off and at the mention of his secretary, Baekhyun puckered his lips in distaste.

“It isn’t about her. The spark was gone a long time ago.” He observed you and seemed like he wanted to add more but he decided against it.

You nodded and squeezed his soft hand.

“Okay,” you mouthed and turned to the bar while sliding your hand off his thigh, catching Jiyong smiling down at the cocktails he was mixing up.

Out of nowhere, you felt a hot breath on the shell of your ear with a hand on your waist, momentarily shocking you. “This isn’t a joke but you look fucking hot while working, you know.” Baekhyun’s soft lips tickled you and you wanted to shake off the feather-like feeling.

You turned your head and saw his expectant eyes, a small smirk stretching his lips that he just sexily licked.

Did. He. Just. Say. That.

“I mean it,” he said louder over the music. He made a point when his eyes travelled lower, the way your shirt hugged your chest and then you skirt doing little to no job of hiding your beautiful curves that Baekhyun seemed to feast his eyes on. He didn't like that you had to dress like this for work, but right now he was confident he was allowed to stare.

You grew hot within a second. Hot and very, very bothered. You leaned in to him and his attention was back to your face. “Baekhyun,” you murmured, “if you were words on the page, you’d be a fine print.”

Within one second, Baekhyun was laughing loudly, quickly covering his mouth when he couldn’t contain his giggles. You leaned back when you heard the tray with the cocktails being put on the bar, ready to be served. “I mean it,” you winked and turned away, taking the tray and going back to work, feeling his eyes following your every move. You noticed the way the tray was shaking because- did you just use a silly pick-up like with him? Either way, you felt incredibly proud for making him laugh like that. As if the sun suddenly made its appearance in the underground club.

The remaining time you spent incredibly conscious of Baekhyun’s following gaze. You caught him chatting a lot with Jiyong which kind of made you happy because Jiyong, despite looking the opposite of Baekhyun, was one of your good friends that never left you hanging.

Soon, you went over to the side of the bar and Jiyong pushed a shot of vodka into your hand. “Go home early. Don’t let him wait any longer,” he told you, and watched you gulp down the burning liquid. “Both of you are making the pressure go up in my club and I don’t want any explosions here. He is basically eye-fucking you.””

You frowned in amusement and handed him back the empty glass, electric waves cursing down to your core at his last sentence. The liquid support was very much needed because Baekhyun was screaming sex even when he looked like the most polished gentleman in the house.

“Baek,” you walked quickly over to him when you changed back to your previous outfit. He turned on his seat, facing you with full interest. “Take me home then.”

The way you said the words; he got the secondary meaning. He licked his lips, looking for a moment at your own pair before taking your hand in his and bidding a quick farewell to the smirking Jiyong.

You were out within a minute. It was only past 2am but you never felt this free and ready to call it a night with him by your side. You expected a heavy make-out session right outside in the fresh air. But when he simply walked the both of you to the car and opened the door for you, you felt a tinge of disappointment.

It was during the quiet, tense car ride that you realized you must have read too much into the situation. God, you so badly wanted to take up on Jiyong’s idea; make Baekhyun completely forget he ever was with that secretary of his, but would he want to?

“Thanks a lot for the ride,” you murmured when you arrived at your floor. He would go to his own apartment and you’d go to yours. Easy. Painless. Maybe once you’d close the doors, you’d feel like complete shit, but you still kept your kind stance up.

Baekhyun ran a hand through his hair. “Gladly,” he breathed when the both of you stopped walking from the elevator.

You looked up and noticed his droopy gaze on you. “Thank you for waiting for me,” you added to lengthen the time you had with him.

He shook his head, staring at you. “Don’t mention it,” he murmured, somehow distracted.

In that moment, you braced yourself. Now, or never. One last try.

Stepping closer to him, you murmured. “I can make you forget about everything, you know.” You took his hand, playing with his long fingers. They would surely make you feel good.

“If I let you,” he said without hesitation, “I can’t guarantee I will behave,” he growled your name and you might have grown wet.

“You want to bet who will be naughtier?” you quirked an eyebrow in a challenge.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun let out and he grabbed your face, slamming his lips onto yours. You were taken aback for a mere moment before taking his face in your hands, feeling how smooth his skin on his cheeks was. Baekhyun was anything but soft though. He was biting and cheeky and daring when he forced his tongue into your mouth, making you moan. He made out with you dirtily in the corridor until he pressed you against the wall next to the door to your apartment, his knee pressing up your womanhood while he sucked on your neck as you melted in his embrace.

It took almost five minutes until you were finally inside the apartment.

It was another couple of minutes until he fell on the top of your bed with a huff, his eyes wide when you started to take off your clothes slowly. Your erratic heartbeat was making you giddy, or maybe it was the excitement from having his usually soft, kind eyes, now wildly set on your curves that he seemed to like so much.

“Now, baby boy,” you purred, stepping closer when you were just in your underwear. He followed your every move, and almost flinched when you touched his cheek. “If you dare to moan, you ain’t getting any tonight. How’s that?” you asked him, trying to grasp on every sober emotion that was still left in you, but it was difficult. You were so intoxicated by his still too-well put together look. You wanted to devour him.

Baekhyun slowly raised an eyebrow and it made you feel things. He hummed, observing you for a moment before wordlessly reaching for your hip, his hand landing exactly on the panty line. “As long as I get to touch.”

“You won’t get to do that either, if you as much as squeak. Do you hear me, Mr Byun?”

“Jesus- fuck, that’s to hot,” he groaned. “Let me add a little more fun to your game. If you moan,” he licked his lips and made a point to look at your chest, ”I will destroy you.”

Not realizing how harshly you were breathing by then, you nodded, the urge to get rid of your soaked panties big as you went to straddle him. Just as you were about to move though, you stopped. “Strip for me, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun looked surprised for a moment before smirking. “You sure, pretty?”

“Solid.”

Baekhyun took an eternity and you knew he was playing with you, teasing you. With every button he undid and with it showed more skin, you grew relentless. He stood close to you and when he was reaching the last button, he leaned in to you, kissing your neck sweetly, almost like a secret promise, that was followed with a sensual lick. You quickly grabbed the shirt and slid it off his wide shoulders. “Now the jeans. And the underwear has to go, too,” you said resolutely and he laughed gently.

“You are like a tigress. Don’t get surprised if I stand tall and proud for you, baby,” he winked at you and you wondered just for a moment about what he meant when he did just what you asked, his member springing free and looking very excited.

Daring to take a step back, you looked and swallowed. You made sure to let him know that you looked. His body was sculpted, wide chest and shoulders, prominent pectorals with even more prominent serratus muscles that made his chest even wider and very much ripped. His lean waist and stomach with fading six pack made you salivate until you took in his member. You sucked your lips in and pushed Baekhyun back on the bed, his smirk growing in anticipation.

“Won’t you undress for me?”

“You don’t deserve it just yet,” you replied absentmindedly and when he rested his back against the headboard, you dived. Without any warning, you grabbed the meaty thighs and lowered your head, tasting him. Baekhyun flinched and he let out a grunt as his hips almost automatically bucked up.

As you licked your way up to the tip, you muttered: “Don’t you dare moan. And keep these naughty hips in check for me.”

Excitement was cursing through your veins and you prayed your shakiness wouldn’t show too much. You licked up and down a few times before taking the tip in your mouth and slowly bobbed your head, feeling how he was now fully erected. Making sure you were letting out appreciative hums, you looked up and Baekhyun was gnawing on his bottom lip, his hand inching closer to your hair. “C’mon, grab me. I like it rough,” you told him and he didn’t waste a second with grabbing your hair and pulling on it. You hissed and dived deeper, feeling the prominent vein on the flat of your tongue, his tip gently scratching the back of your throat. It didn’t do you no harm though, and with every movement of your head, you went lower and lower until your eyes were teary. Coming back up, you swirled your tongue around the tip while your hand pumped him sensually, making sure he would be at the end of his wits.

Baekhyun was grunting but he didn’t dare to make more of an explicit sound, given his other hand was clasped over his mouth, his eyes now closed in pleasure. He looked divine and way too comfortable.

Deciding to make it a little harder for him, you grabbed his balls and massaged them gently, knowing it was the ultimate way to make him lose. But you were surprised when Baekhyun pushed you away out of nowhere, and he was now on top of you, his face flushed red, and his eyes so wild and dark he could eat you up.

“How can this game be fair if I don’t get to play my part?” he muttered in a deep, throaty tone which made your womanhood twitch.

“Wha-“

You gasped when you felt his fingers at your lower lips as he quickly pushed the crotch of your panties aside, the index and fourth finger spreading them apart and letting the dominant middle finger press on the sensitive bud, your mouth opening in a silent moan. Baekhyun was looking carefully, your every move, your every breath detected by his attentive eyes and ears.

“Let’s see how long you’ll last, baby,” he murmured and his hands slid up your thigh, massaging them, the one that fingered you spreading your wetness over your skin. With every touch of his, he raised goosebumps and you found yourself on your elbows. He smirked at you and slowly spread your legs wider before he winked and leaned in. He kissed you on your lower lips, your head instantly falling backwards, and he sucked gently, making out with your womanhood.

You sighed louder and he quickly looked up, letting you know he heard you well. You giggled and pressed your lips together to prevent any unwanted sound leaving your mouth.

“Keep these wide open for me, alright?” He purred, using the voice you used with him before, and then his tongue came into the game; you just knew you would lose. You weren’t bad at giving blow-jobs (or so you thought) but Byun Baekhyun was eating you out like a madman. His tongue licked you up and down before he teased your entrance with it, collecting all your wetness. He hummed and groaned while his nose was pushed in the pubic bone as his tongue swirled and aroused you even more, licking every corner he could reach.

Your elbows became weak and you fell on your back, one of your hands grabbing the bed sheets in a strong grip while the other went to the back of Baekhyun’s perfectly brushed hair. He moaned again when he felt you pull on it, and you found yourself pushing his face more into you. His tongue complied and dove into your hole, poking inside as he lapped up all the juices around.

An earth shattering, deep moan left your throat, your weak mind forgetting about any silly game you came up with in order to make him focus just on you. Maybe you secretly wanted it to happen because you were dying to know how it felt like to let him have his way with you.

“That’s right, moan for me sweetheart,” came in his thundering, low growl and your airy moans filled the room. Your hips buckled up but he was fast to press them back into the mattress, tongue still relentless.

“I’m so close, don’t stop,” you panted with your eyes scrunched close, eager to get the release.

Baekhyun stopped. Pushing himself away, he looked at you in triumph while you snapped your eyes open, whining: “What are you doing?”

“Look who is an eager little tiger,” he teased, climbing over you. “As if I would let you come after teasing me like that before,” he murmured when his face was just in front of yours, his breath fanning yours lips. “I want to feel you.” He paused and leaned in, gently nipping at yours lips, the slightest taste of your own essence present on his mouth. “Let me feel you, baby girl.”

You were shocked at his sudden change from rough eating-out to a gentle kiss on your lips. You felt him poking you at your entrance and you found your hands wandering over his shoulders, feeling up those muscles, enjoying the way he was so wide and covering your entire body under him, making you feel safe. You slid them over his back and you had to spread your legs wider and shimmy under him, reaching his cute butt and squeezing, causing Baekhyun to groan gently against you. It sent another electric wave through your core and you just needed him to be in you.

“Undress me,” you mumbled, still fondling with his backside. You met Baekhyun’s eyes and he expressionlessly leaned back, letting his hips glide against your own while his hand looked for the bra clasp on your back.

You started to giggle and he stopped. “You can undo it right here,” you told him softly, your eyes looking between your breasts where the actual clasp was.

Baekhyun gave you a shy laugh, his cheeks gorgeously puffing up as his hands brushed against your breasts before unclasping the bra and pushing it to the side to reveal your mounds. He observed for a moment and then started trailing kisses around them, biting gently on the tender skin and effectively bringing out a hiss from you.

His free hand reached for your panties and you pushed your hips up to help him slide them off. You watched the underwear fly across the room and you laughed, sighing in content when he circled his tongue around your nipple.

Moving under him, you pressed yourself against his erect member, goosebumps raising on your skin at the feel of him. He wasn’t huge; he seemed the perfect size that would promise you something unforgettable.

“So, so fucking eager, you little devil,” he murmured against your breast but he gave himself away when he also pushed against you, his tip teasing you now at your center. He groaned gently and brought his face back to yours.

You closed your eyes in the meantime. Even the slightest movement from him was giving you a high.

“Look at me. Are you ready?” his voice was so low and raspy you shuddered.

You opened your eyes and you saw sex screaming all over him. “I’m so ready.”

He smirked and mouthed at your neck. “Let me ride you, then,” he muttered and pushed in.

Both of you moaned in unison. Since he stretched you before and denied you an orgasm, you were dripping and sensitive for him, giving him easy access to you.

“You feel like paradise,” you breathed an airy moan.

He was fast to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing up against yours as he gave you time to adjust to him. “Tell me what you like, sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you blurted under the spell of an intense ecstasy your body was going through. You froze right as you said it, scolding yourself for thinking the moment, but Baekhyun leaned in with an acknowledging hum and let his lips hover over yours as he started to rocked you gently, in and out, going up and down above you.

“I like you, too,” he admitted, the regular harsh puffs of his breath hitting your hungry lips. “You’re literally the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

You were shocked and flying on cloud nine. His thrusts were making you feel like a goddess, the way he was looking at you made you feel loved. You chased his lips, kissing him sweetly while he fumbled with your hand and intertwined his hands with yours which made your tummy flutter with excitement. In and out was he rocking, your walls hugging him so well you felt like the missing puzzle piece to him.

You separated quickly for the lack of air and the pressure building up in your lower abdomen made you ever so breathless and moany. It was almost embarrassing how you weren’t about to last any longer; he was so intoxicating you felt like you would be recovering from the orgasm for a while.

“Are you close?” he asked as he gave you a sharper thrust, causing you to scream. He watched with eager eyes. “Oh, that’s right. Scream louder than that, baby girl. You can do better than that for me, hmm?” he gritted his teeth and thrusted into you again, your bed creaking in despair just like you were.

“Baekhyun!!” you met his hips half-way, the both of you rolling in perfect unison like the tumbling waves kissing the shore. Up and down, in and out he went. Just when you thought you couldn’t hold it in any longer, he pinched your clit with his other hand, harshly massaging you between your lips. “C’mon, don’t hold back.”

“Come with me,” you pleaded, trying to hold it in. You moaned, arching your back so that your breasts were pressed up against his chest and he groaned at the feel of your convulsing walls. He fastened the pace, wildly slamming into you now, not caring about the gentle sex he had in mind from the start.

“Let go,” he ordered sternly, and rid you further up the wrinkled bed sheets. “Hold on to me and let go,” he whispered into your open mouth, short on breath.

You did. Your high-pitch scream pierced through the sex-filled room, blocking all the inappropriate rufflings and moans out. You hugged him to you, shaking as you kept sighing.

Baekhyun let out a throaty grunt and you felt him twitch in you. He was fast to pull out, quickly helping himself out before releasing his seed all over your glowing skin. He breathed loudly, watching as his release hit your chest and stomach, looking absolutely stunning on you.

The way your chest was heaving up and down while feeling him dripping down made you feel ecstatic. Baekhyun met your eyes and gave you a tired smile before he fell on the bed next to you.

Both of you were panting loudly, glistening with sweat. You swore your legs were used up, unable to provide you service for a while. Baekhyun took your hand again and rolled on his side, resting himself on his elbow. You looked at him and took notice of the gentleness of his orbs, the way he looked so fucking hot but not a sprinkle of lust was in his eyes anymore; affection more like it.

Without a word, he leaned in and pecked your softly on your lips. “Let me clean you up,” he murmured and didn’t wait for your reply when he left your room.

You knew he would find your bathroom and soon enough he was back with a warm, wet towel. He cleaned you up with utmost gentleness; your breasts, your stomach and your womanhood, neither of it in a sexual way. Then he threw the towel on the floor and joined you in the bed.

“You didn’t have to,” you murmured sheepishly when you saw him making himself comfortable.

He smiled. “But I wanted to.” He covered your bodies in your comforter and you were fast to turn and bring yourself to him, eager to know how it felt like to rest your head on his chest.

He took you in with a small kiss on your temple and his arm rested on your hip. “Thank you. That was amazing.”

You sighed. “Did you mean it though?” you dared to ask, knowing full well you might end up ruining the moment. Baekhyun was a man of his words, and you never saw him as a type to back off when he already uttered something. But you saw how he was unsure the whole car ride back to your apartment.

“I did,” he sighed. “I really do like you, you know.”

“But how… so suddenly?” you asked, your hand drawing spirals on his pectoral. It was so firm.

He squeezed your hip. “I’ve liked you for a long time actually. You are literally the hottest girl in our group of friends and the fact that you’re so oblivious is just mind-blowing.”

Shocked, you pushed yourself up to look at him while his hand slid over your backside. You shivered when the comforter lifted, exposing your chest straight in front of his eyes, yet he didn’t look. “What? But - how? I just… you were with her and then…”

“I told you,” he said quietly as he caressed your butt cheek. “The spark was long gone. I just always tried to do my duties as a boyfriend until I was fully convinced she was fucking another one.”

You opened your mouth to respond but he beat you to it, amusement glistening in his eyes. “You are incredibly attractive and I might sound like a total creep but shit, your body is an eye magnet. I couldn’t stop thinking about touching you and feeling you.”

“Baekhyun,” you sighed, already affected by his words.

He hummed and his eyes dropped on your lips. “Just kiss me and let’s talk in the morning, hm?” he suggested as his eyes traveled to your mounds. “I feel like drowning in you until morning, pretty.”

And you were aroused right away. You leaned in, already hungry while you straddled him under the comforter. “Just so you know,” you whispered, closing your eyes when you felt his member at your heat. “She lost herself a gem.”

Baekhyun’s lips slowly stretched into a gracious smile while his hands navigated your hips above him, ready to let you ride him. “I guess we have to lose something in order to gain something much better in life.”

You smiled as well and kissed him.

You woke up sore. It was still a little early and Baekhyun was asleep next to you, his gentle snores making you laugh into your palm quietly. After five minutes of closely inspecting his face and realizing he had a whole constellation of moles, you decided to quickly jump in the shower so you could be fresh for him once he woke up.

You took his white shirt and slid into it, feeling tiny in the huge size that easily came to the middle of your thighs. It made you feel incredibly sexy.

As you tiptoed to the bathroom, you heard loud noises and shouts coming from the corridor outside your flat. You shuffled over, checking the ruckus through the small hole on your door. A little taken aback, you saw a beautiful, tall woman slamming her fist on Baekhyun's door. Her hair was in a perfect bun, not a hair sticking out.

“Baekhyun! Open up, I know you're home! Please, let's talk!”

You really didn't want to -- but you smiled in triumph. Oh darling, your ex is in my bed, sleeping tight after a mind-blowing night full of sex. Snickering to yourself, you quickly went to the bathroom.

Coming out after fifteen minutes, you roamed in the kitchen for a bit, preparing the water for the morning coffee you very much needed. While it was warming up, you went to check your bedroom to see if Baekhyun was anywhere near to getting out of the bed.

Stopping in the doorway, you saw an empty bed. Sheets messy, your underwear still on the floor, nothing seemed out of the place. Only his clothes were gone besides the white shirt that you obviously still had. Despite searching your small apartment, he wasn't anywhere. He wouldn't explain to you what that raspberry cake meant. He wouldn't explain to you what he promised last night - the way he grew to like you.

Baekhyun was gone.

He disappeared.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: lets thank our kind anon for wanting to mix Drown and Disappear to have it angsty! here you go, angst and never knowing what will happen 😜😆❤❤ Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was okay -_-

#exowritersnet #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #baekhyun drown #baekhyun disappear #baekhyun au #baekhyun smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fluff

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