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ufo-ikawa · a day ago
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kuroo tetsurou x reader, 4.4k
there's some faces you know, some faces you're familiar with; then there's the faces you never forget.
this was supposed to be a short fic but google docs says i currently have 8k words... so here's part 1 ig? T_T (everyone say thank you to @augustinewrites for giving me the big-brained idea that led to me writing this <3)
Part Two (coming tomorrow when I finish proof-reading it hhhh-)
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Summers in Tokyo were a familiar type of torture. At its most punishing, Tokyo heat was the kind of hot that put fire under your skin, dragging you down.
You had loved summers in Tokyo— perhaps it was a weird thing to be nostalgic about, but you had ached for it when you had moved away to Kyoto for college.
(A part of it was maybe because you only ever visited Tokyo now during the summer, so you automatically associated the season with home. You never thought you were the type to get homesick.)
It was good to feel the summer heat on your skin now, as you stood at Tokyo station waiting for your parents to come and pick you up. Once your feet hit the tarmac onto the main street, the overwhelming feeling of being home hit you, and you had to fight the sudden prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. You wouldn’t cry now, not when your parents were mere seconds away from you and you would have to explain why.
Your mother had texted you to say they were five minutes away when the train had arrived, so you were waiting outside, away from the swarm of people inside the station. You had expected it to be busy, a lot of kids were going home for the summer, but crowds and Tokyo heat were not a good mix.
“Y/N!” you heard your mother’s voice calling out, and a few seconds later you were greeted by the sight of her leaning out the window of the passenger seat and waving you over. You couldn’t fight the grin on your face as you made your way over.
“Do you know that you’re parked here illegally?” you ask, just before being pulled into a bone-crushing hug.
“We missed you so much!” your mother almost whined, reprimanding you for your lack of visits during the school term.
Your father had exited the car to put your suitcase in the trunk, and after giving him his welcome home hug too, you were soon climbing into the backseat and buckling your seatbelt as your dad started to pull out of the station.
“How are you?” your dad asked, grinning at you through the rear-view mirror.
“Good.” you replied. “Just a bit tired.”
“From the train? Or from the school year?” this time it was your mom that asked.
“Both.”
Your parents exchanged looks, amused, and it was clear that they were happy to have you back. Their smiles were contagious and you found yourself smiling back as you looked out at the scenery through the car window.
Smiling felt like the easiest thing at the moment; it was easy to be happy when everything felt right. You’re not sure whether it’s just relief that you have the next two months free from deadlines and stress, or because of the comfort that being home brought you, but you were ready to just go along with it for now.
.
.
.
Your parents had made you stop for a quick lunch on the way, before your mom insisted on taking you out to buy new clothes.
“Did you always have such few clothes?” she had asked, almost horrified when you told her that one suitcase was all you had brought home with you.
“Mom, that’s the whole reason I survived the entire train ride.” you said, rolling your eyes out. It was true— the train had been packed already, and you knew that if you had to drag more bags with you it would have been a definite struggle.
Usually you wouldn’t mind being spoiled, but you were tired and from the constant notifications on your phone, the messages from your friends asking if you had made it home safely were piling up. But mostly— you just wanted to sleep. Taking naps in an air conditioned room as the Tokyo heat raged on outside was all you could think about as you went in and out of different stores.
By the time you had pulled up to the house, the sun had set a few hours ago and it was nearing ten pm. You have no idea how you managed to drag your suitcase and new shopping bags out of the car and up the stairs to your room, but you felt relief as you dropped everything onto the ground and plopped onto the bed.
You knew you had to shower, one quick sniff under your arm told you that much, but your limbs had a mind of their own and you were refusing to get back up.
“Y/N! Can you do me a favour?” your mom’s voice calls out.
You groan, forcing your body to get up and find out whatever it is she needs.
“Can you go and buy me a few things from the convenience store down the street?” she asks. She pitched the idea as if you would have any other choice, but you know that she’s not exactly asking.
You let out an over exaggerated sigh, taking the small list from her hands and pulling on your shoes before making your way outside.
You lived just outside of the main centre, in a small suburban area with plenty of small shops littered around the streets within walking distance. You let muscle memory lead you to the 7/11, a familiar path you had frequented on late nights when you couldn’t sleep.
The streets were quiet at this time, only muffled sounds and laughter coming from a nearby karaoke shop. You finally reach the 7/11, walk inside and nod at the cashier (a teenager who looked bored and disinterested) before grabbing a basket and making quick work through the list your mom had given you.
You manage to find everything in a few minutes as you walk through each aisle. You somehow manage to end up in the junk food aisle, and in a small stroke of pettiness at being made to leave the house at this time, you say fuck it and grab yourself a few of your favourite snacks. You were thinking of grabbing yourself some banana milk too, but the small ding of the front door opening distracts you. It was another customer, head down and probably dead on their feet as you were. You were about to start heading to the cold drinks aisle when the other customer looked up to greet the cashier, and your heart came to a stop at the sight of his face.
The realization came to you slowly, but you’re thankful your feet moved by itself and you hid in the aisle furthest away from him as possible. There were some faces you knew in passing, faces you were familiar with from seeing them everyday at school— and then there were faces you could never forget. And in your case, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
You knew this face, knew it well. Too well, even from a distance. Even after, what, two years now? Your brain wasn’t functioning properly anymore. But you knew his face, and the mere recognition of it caused your stomach to turn.
The man walked to the cashier, blissfully unaware of your present as you stood frozen like an idiot at the back of the store. You couldn’t see clearly what he had come in for, but all you could do was stare, eyes unmoving from the figure ahead of you.
You stared. Then stared some more. A part of you wanted to believe that you were simply hallucinating, because you didn’t want to believe that man a few feet away from you was none other than Kuroo Tetsurou.
There was a rustle of items being bagged, a receipt being printed and a small thanks from the figure-that-could-not-possible-be-Kuroo-Tetsurou before he turned and left the store. Left you with your heart in a broken pile on the floor.
You don’t know how you got home after that, don’t know how you blinked and suddenly you were back in your room. Somehow you had paid for your things, and handed your mom her groceries before locking yourself in your room. Your mind was racing, heart beating irregularly as you tried to take in the reality of your situation.
There was no word to describe how you were feeling, nothing to describe how you felt nothing but also felt everything at the same time. You wanted to cry, the delayed shock suddenly crashing down on you all at once.
The thought of showering was now more unappealing than ever, and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. You quickly stripped yourself of the clothes you had been wearing all day and changed into something more comfortable, before pulling back the covers and climbing into bed.
You tried not to think of who you had once shared this wall with. Of the boy who would purposely knock on the walls late at night to grab your attention. The boy you had first given your heart to.
.
.
.
You had moved into the house beside Kuroo when you were twelve. You don’t remember much of the move, but you were still in Tokyo so you hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Your father had said it was further out of the city than your previous house, but you didn’t mind. It was a quieter area, and there were plenty of kids out and about for you to play with.
Cities weren’t for everyone, and even if you had fallen in love with it, you could understand why your parents fell out of it. Especially in Tokyo, when everyone was constantly busy, always running towards the next step of their lives. In this area, everyone seemed to slow down and appreciate the small things, the open space allowing more room to breathe.
The new house was smaller than your old one, but it was perfect at the time. There were three bedrooms, a step up from the two-bedroom you lived in in the city, allowing your dad to have his own office. There was a generous backyard, and you were excited at the prospect of having a place to yourself rather than having to find a nearby park.
But the most important thing about your new house then wasn’t what was in it; it was who was next to it.
The house next door held Kuroo Tetsurou. (and that was the most important thing in your opinion.)
He had been painfully shy back then, the type to stumble over his words if you made eye contact. When your parents became friends and his dad would bring him over to play, he barely spoke a word, even when you tried to force a conversation out of him.
You never imagined he would end up as something more than the boy next door.
.
.
.
You woke up the next day with a heavy heart. The sunlight was creeping into your room through the curtains, and you could smell breakfast being cooked downstairs but you couldn’t even force yourself to smile.
You ate breakfast in silence that morning, and if your parents noticed your silence, they didn’t say anything. Instead, they babbled on about the news, the latest gossip in town and everything you could do this summer.
You felt bad for not contributing anything to the conversation, poking at your breakfast half-heartedly but you couldn’t muster up the effort to add anything. Not when you felt smothered so aggressively by the mixture of emotions you were going through.
What could you even call what you were going through?
Your mouth felt dry, palms sweaty. Your room had looked haunted this morning when you woke up, every corner holding a piece of a memory you had long buried but had somehow leaked out and made itself home.
Was it anger? Or anguish? You don’t know. You feel like you’re adrift in a vast ocean, being pulled in mindless directions by the tide, left to fend for yourself as the waters rose over and over again. You were being dragged down each time you thought you could breathe again.
You hated that you felt that much at all.
Kuroo Tetsurou was a ghost you thought you had exorcised for the past two years. You had grieved over him, grieved over what you had for so long even when it was so hard.
But all it took was that small glimpse of him, that small moment for everything to come rushing back and you felt insulted. All it took was his sudden appearance in a convenience store to resurrect a ghost and it made you sick to your stomach.
Was it heartbreak? This thing that sat in the back of your throat?
Pathetic.
“Thanks for running to the store last night for me, honey.” your mom said, squeezing your hand in hers and you gave a tight smile back.
You helped clean up after breakfast, still mute as you worked silently. Your dad had shot you a worried glance, asking if everything was alright but you waved him off, dismissing your silence as a result of your tiredness.
After everything was done, you said your thanks for the meal and went back up to your room. The thoughts in your head had faded into a dull throb rather than a forceful ache, so you took that as a sign to force yourself to be productive.
You unpacked your suitcase, and finally took a shower; you replied to the texts from your friends and put on a film in the background to fill the silence. You didn’t trust your thoughts to keep you company today.
Just as you had sat down, scrolling through your phone, a message from your best friend Asami came through.
Asami: are you ok?
Asami: seem… off
You grimaced at the messages on your phone; had you really been that obvious through text? Or was she just as perceptive as always. You thought of brushing it off, and just using another excuse, but if she could read you through a message, then she would definitely see through any lie.
Y/N: i’m ok, just something on my mind.
Y/N: not sure if i’m ready to talk about it though
Asami: take your time, ok?
Asami: i’m here if you need me, always.
You smiled softly, the burden feeling lighter already through a simple text.
Y/N: i know, thank you.
After you hit send on the last message, you put your phone down. You could scroll through your phone again, but you doubted that it would make you feel better. You could go outside, but after last night, you were terrified at the prospect of running into him anytime soon.
Last night kept replaying in your head, like a recurring dream that you were stuck in. An endless loop of Kuroo standing outside the 7/11 doors, walking in, and then walking back out, his back towards you. His back was always towards you.
You wanted to scream, shoving your face into a pillow and curling your fists into it until your knuckles turned white. Then you heard it. A muffled laugh, a small thump against your wall, a window opening and then— you can hear his laugh.
“You’re too busy to come visit your oldest friend?” a voice said, and you felt bile rising in your throat.
Kuroo. That’s Kuroo’s voice.
“It’s weird being home when everyone’s gone,” he says, “now it’s just me and my dad now. Come home already Kyanma!”
You felt as if you were having an out of body experience right now. There’s no way you were here, there’s no way you were listening to Kuroo’s voice right now.
“I don’t think anyone’s even coming home this summer, I didn’t last year.”
I’m here.
You felt like an idiot for even thinking that, but the words got stuck in your throat. His voice faded soon enough, and you were left in silence again, the noise from the movie playing in the background not enough to distract you.
You sat up, leaning against the wall. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You felt like you were suffocating, the air not reaching your lungs properly, hands trembling.
.
.
.
Kuroo’s parents were divorced. That was the first thing you learned about him when your parents had invited him and his dad over for lunch.
You didn’t know what to say about it, too young and naive to take in the gravity of his family situation but he hadn’t seemed bothered by it, eyes locked on the ground. You were both an only child though, and that seemed to make him feel better, make him feel like he wasn’t all alone despite everyone in the area having a complete family.
“I think having a sibling would be fun though.” you had said off-handedly, both of you sitting on the grass in the backyard as your parents talked and laughed in the background.
“Maybe.” Kuroo had replied. “Maybe my mom would have stayed then.”
“Don’t you love your dad?” you asked.
“I do.” he looked defensive all of a sudden and you decided that maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say.
“Well, my mom likes you.” you start slowly, fiddling with a few blades of grass in between your fingers. “You can think of her as a second mom if you’d like.”
Kuroo had looked at you then, a beat of silence, before he laughed.
“She makes better soba noodles than my mom anyway.”
You grinned at each other.
.
.
.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Asami’s voice rings out through your phone speakers.
“Jeez, not even a hello?” you mutter, rolling your eyes. Trust her to get right to the point.
Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re ready to talk about it. You’ve been sitting in your room all day, mindlessly watching any netflix show that came on; you’re torn between just letting all your emotions out and crying, or just ending the call and turning off your phone for the next few days.
You never told anyone about Kuroo, it just didn’t seem appropriate— especially when he was someone you had tried to leave behind, a memory you were running from to get a fresh start elsewhere.
Asami, and all her emotional intelligence bullshit, seems to catch onto your hesitation and tries to lighten the mood somehow. Though you had only known her for two years, she knew that you were more likely to share whatever your problem was if she acted nonchalant about it, as if it was a small problem; after all, this was how she coaxed you to open up to her in the beginning.
The truth was sitting in a tight knot in your stomach, and if anyone could help you figure it out, it would be Asami.
“Well, since you’ve gone mute, did you know that my mom convinced my dad to renovate the entire house this summer?” she says. “It’s horrible, and because I’m home, I’m gonna be goaded into helping.”
You laugh at her misfortune, “Well you did say you didn’t wanna be bored all summer.”
“I was thinking more of a summer fling, not Maria Kondo-ing the house!” she protests, huffing through the phone. “I’m being used as free labour here.”
“Ask them to compensate for your time then.”
“And get a lecture about how ungrateful I am? No thanks.”
You both laugh at the idea. Asami was a free spirit, never daunted by a challenge and that was what you admired about her. She was the no-nonsense type, but she also had a soft heart. This is the first time you’ve smiled all day, and it feels nice.
There’s a brief pause, Asami shuffling about on the other line and you thinking.
“I have a dilemma.” you start, and you hear the noise settling down. “I… I ran into someone I didn’t want to last night.”
Asami hums to let you know she’s listening, but doesn’t say anything else, encouraging you to continue.
You clear your throat, “Okay so picture this,” you start, laying down to look up at the ceiling, “you have this friend you’ve grown up with, and they really meant a lot to you but you haven’t talked to them in two years.”
You pause. How do you even begin to describe it to anyone else?
“And you’re still kind of like, fucked up about it because… I don’t know, they were your first love.”
“And you ran into them last night?” Asami asks quietly, treading lightly on the subject for your sake.
“Yeah.”
“Do I know them?”
You shake your head, even though she can’t see you. “No, you’ve never met him.”
“Was he important to you?”
The question takes you by surprise, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. He was.”
Is. He still is.
“Is the dilemma that you’re still in love with him?”
You feel an onslaught of tears threatening to come out, but you will them away. Do you love Kuroo? Yes. Are you in love with Kuroo? You’re not sure.
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, if he was important to you, it’s okay to realize that you’re not over something that you thought you were.” Asami says, a no-bullshit tone in her voice. “You’re allowed to still feel sad about things that have already passed— healing isn’t linear, or whatever it is they say, you know?”
Logically, you knew that. You dealt with your fair share of setbacks in the very beginning, that you’re aware of just how much it takes to feel even a little bit ok again. But patience is not a virtue you’ve been blessed with. You want to be okay now.
You know that you haven’t given Asami the full story, but somehow she still knows what to say. You’re thankful for just how perceptive she actually is. The possible scenario of you landing right back at the very beginning of it all terrifies you, it’s a place you never want to go back to. All remaining memories of Kuroo had been carefully stored away in a box in your mind, collecting dust because you refused to ever touch it again.
If the box were to open again, there’s no telling how long it would take to mend your broken heart this time. Watching Kuroo walk away the first time was hard enough, but to relive it all over again would shatter the carefully placed walls you’ve built.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Asami asks, and you almost laugh because goddamn, she does know you too well.
You take a deep breath, heart pounding as the words leave your mouth, “I miss him.”
“I hate that I miss him.”
That’s the reality you’re living in, the truth as to why you’re this broken over something that should be nothing but a distant memory now.
“Oh, Y/N.” Asami’s voice is laced with sympathy, and the tears start to prick at your eyes again but you refuse to let them fall down. If they do, it means you’ve lost again.
“It’s so fucking stupid.” you scoff into the phone. “It’s already been two years, and yet I’m still affected by it and god, it sucks to feel so much when there’s nothing to mourn over anymore.”
“Y/N, did you ever process it properly?” Asami asks. “Did you ever take the time to?”
Your first instinct is to say yes. For the longest time, you believed that you had truly mourned him, Kuroo and his ghost who had left fingerprints all over your life. You had washed away all the little things that he had left behind so you would be free. You had.
You thought you had.
“What do you mean by ‘properly’?” you ask.
Asami stays silent for a while, and all you can hear is her labored breathing through the phone as you glare holes into the ceiling.
“Did you ever let it all out instead of bottling it? Or like, did you talk to him about it and get some form of closure?” she answers. “I know that I don’t know everything, but sometimes you have to take something by the root and go through it from beginning to end, no matter how painful. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, I don’t know who he is, or what your relationship with him even was. I don’t know how it came together, or how it fell apart— but if it still haunts you this much, then I think you need to really work out how it affected you.”
Asami’s words strike a chord within you. You feel like you know this already, known it for a long time but you just never really bothered to take care of it. Instead, you chose to put a bandaid on an open wound, expecting it to heal itself; and when it didn’t you just kept piling on bandaids. You kept going, telling yourself that you were fine, that everything was okay.
You don’t understand how you’ve allowed yourself to keep lying all this time, to patch up bleeding wounds with flimsy plasters. You don’t know how you could look the truth in the eye and act blind to it.
But talking to Asami, the truth seems determined to come out, no longer satisfied with ignorance and childish naivety.
“I’m scared.” you admit softly. “I’m scared of what I’ll find.”
You were terrified— terrified of what you would find if you were to uncover the memories of Kuroo, of his voice, of his hands in yours. All this time you had locked him away as a memory, something you no longer wanted to revisit.
(What was memory, really, if not a pile of old clothes you couldn’t wear anymore?)
“I mean, it’s valid, but don’t you want to put it to rest once and for all? It might be hard, but don’t you think it’ll be worth it?”
Put it to rest once and for all.
The bandaid on your open wound, the bandaid you’d long pretended was enough while also knowing that it wasn’t. You pictured yourself peeling them off, all the layers beneath to get to the source. You imagined all the decay, all the wounds left unattended and you felt a chill down your spine.
“It’s going to hurt like hell, but it’s part of the process.” Asami says. “And besides, you won’t be alone because you’ve got me.”
There was another wound coming, you had sensed it the moment you saw Kuroo’s face. A deeper one, one that couldn’t be covered by a bandaid.
You’d treat it this time, maybe it would rid you of the pain instead.
You hoped it would.
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a/n: i can't believe this is 4k words and they haven't even interacted yet— i'm sorry(!) but if you made it this far the next part is gonna be a lot of... emotions (and kuroo) — if you're interested, the song for this fic is you all over me by ts :]
likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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sakusaww · 2 days ago
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FIRST TIME SAYING 'I LOVE YOU' ft. The haikyuu boys (pt. 2)
First of all thank you so much for reading the first part of this, kind of got motivated to do a pt 2 so here it is. Hope y'all like this
Read pt 1 here
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His team just won a match that was very important. As they won the last point he came running to you.
"How was I, y/n?" He asked, panting due to the intense game but his voice was still laced with enthusiasm.
"You were amazing. I loved how you won the last point for your team. I love you," you both stiffened at the last three words.
"What...what did you...say," you knew that there was no going back from this and honestly, you didn't want to because it had been months since you started dating and it was high time one of you said it.
"I said that I love you," you smiled up at him, hands behind your back.
He mumbled something under his breath, cheeks and ear turning beet red as he twiddled his thumbs and looked down at the ground.
"Huh? Didn't hear you. Mind repeating?" You leaned forward, cupping one of your ears.
"I love you too," he said a bit louder, still not meeting your eyes and face still red.
It was great to say the three words finally and you were glad you took the first step.
- KAGEYAMA, SEMI, IWAIZUMI, shirabu, Kenma, Yaku
━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━
"Hey I got you this gift," he took out a little box wrapped in red paper.
"It's not even my birthday yet," you giggled a bit, taking the gift box and eyeing it with excitement.
"Open it! Open it!" He himself sounded so excited which made you laugh harder.
On opening the wrapper, there was a small case. Your eyes widened as you opened the case and saw a pair of matching necklaces that you were smiling at in the mall the other day. He might have realised that you wanted it.
"OH MY GOD, WE CAN BE ONE OF THE COUPLES WITH THE MATCHING NECKLACES NOW. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH," you threw yourself at him, hugging him so tightly that you did not realise how he stiffened up.
"Y/N YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU LOVE ME," he hugged you back just as tightly while letting out a laugh of his own.
"YES SILLY THAT'S BECAUSE I DO. A LOT. I LOVE YOU," you repeated and both of you were in a fit of laughter by now. You both were so happy.
"Well I love you too," he pulled away and looked into your eyes and smiled the brightest smile you've ever seen.
Clearly it had been one of the happiest days of your relationship.
- HINATA, BOKUTO, Oikawa, TANAKA, Nishinoya, Asahi, Lev
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Reblogs are appreciated<3
Taglist: @sunbeamx (if anyone wants to be added send an ask)
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bbhyeoliskooks · a day ago
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Hi Keah ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ I was waiting for you to come back and I am excited to see you here again ... I was wondering if you could write a scenario with YeonJun as with soobin to your daughter misbehaving with you (as if it were her graduation and you tried so hard to make her party and you He says that he is ashamed of having a mother older than his father) s / o being a year older than YJ I hope you understand 🛐
Thank you
꒰ "𝗠𝘆 𝗦𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗲.” ꒱
Yeonjun is the best husband ever, especially to when it comes to problems in his family.
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◌ Genre: Fluff, angst, married life with yeonjun basically lol
◌ Warnings: A few hurtful words but nothing too bad <3
◌ Song: Liebestraum No. 3 (Love Dream)
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Alongside with Yeonjun, you were really proud of your daughter for graduating. School was incredibly tough and you knew that; so for her to be chasing after her dreams with little to no hesitation... you were indeed super happy for her. Words simply couldn’t describe how much you wanted her to know that her achievements meant everything to you. You knew that your little (well, not so little anymore) daughter was smart, so you decided to throw her a party with all of her friends as a reward.
This was not only for herself, but for her friends as well. So you were quite glad to give her permission to invite them over. Hopefully they’d enjoy all your efforts, since you had waited quite a while for this- counting the days on the calendar until said day finally popped up. 
You were busy setting up the table for now, putting down fine plates of china and filling up the clear glasses with pink lemonade. It wasn’t too hard to make everything pretty in your favor, and you sighed looking down at your finished masterpiece. Yeonjun watched you from the counter, love in his eyes as he leaned down to rest his cheek on one hand.
“You know... for only being one year older than me, you are amazing.”
Shooting a soft smile at him, you felt your ears burn with embarrassment- the good type of embarrassment that is.
“It’s just setting up the table, honey. I’m doing everything for our daughter so I hope she’ll be able to enjoy spending time with her friends.” You muttered under your breath, too shy to say a little thank you for his sweet words. Your husband was always like this- giving out compliments for the littlest of things and doing it so easily too. No matter how much time you spent with him, even in your 10 years of marriage, you were never used to it.
As if on cue your daughter storms into the kitchen, her eyes glistening with tears as she glared at the both of you. 
Your eyes widened as you sensed her pain, reaching out to take her into your arms with nothing but love. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?”
Her eyes then shuffles to you then Yeonjun, before she slaps your hand away with disgust. “Yeah, everything’s fine, as you can tell.”
Yeonjun frowned deeply, his eyebrows raising as the two of you shared a look of confusion. What happened? Everything was going smoothly until now. Plus, she never spoke like this at all which added more to the confusion.
“Fine?” You questioned, rubbing your hand that she forcefully pushed away with violence. “Sweetie, it doesn’t seem as if everything is fine. It’s up to you whether or not to tell us if something is wrong, but you know we’re always here for you. Now let me ask you again: what’s wrong?”
Her expression became rough as your voice rose higher in order to maintain its softness, and she scoffed with a little tsk. There was no way she could meet your eyes though, crossing her arms as the pout on your face got bigger and bigger. There was obviously something wrong affecting her but she made the decision to take it out on you, rage falling freely out her lips as she harshly criticized something you weren’t able to control. 
“You know? I’m kind of embarrassed for having a parent who’s older than my dad. My friend has normal parents unlike mine, and that is so unfair. I don’t even get why dad married-”
“Y/D/N! (Your daughter’s name)!” Yeonjun yelled, before she could say anything else, quite frankly having enough of what useless rant she was already going on about. He was proud of his daughter for her graduation so congrats to her and all- but before anything else she wasn’t allowed to say that to her parent, much less his significant other.
You just stood there in shock, your arms trembling as you covered your mouth. It was too much to comprehend, and you had no clue what to say except a small whisper of an apology. 
She didn’t mean that, right? The lines were blurred this time. You knew teenagers could be a little temperamental,
Perhaps it was because you worked so hard to arrange a party for weeks that you almost broke down in front of her, your eyes filling with sadness while hers filled with regret.
Yeonjun huffed in frustration, taking his daughter gently by the hand as you stood paralyzed in your seat. He couldn’t stand the tension between the two of you, choosing to take the problem out of the room before more resentful words were spoken.
You watched as she followed him upstairs, meekly organizing the forks and spoons since it took the most energy to do.
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30 minutes later when the guests could arrive at any given moment, Yeonjun and your daughter came downstairs. You smiled at her haphazardly, the sight fake because words of her outburst kept ringing in your head.
He then nudged her forward a little bit and she cleared her throat, avoiding your sad gaze.
“I’m really sorry, mom/dad. I didn’t mean a word of what I said, and I know it’s not an excuse but I was just really stressed for this party. At the same time, you probably felt more stressed than me and it wasn’t right of me to say those things to you. You’re perfect for dad and your age doesn’t matter. You guys make me the happiest daughter ever and although we have bad times like these, you know just what to do to bring us back together.”
She looked at you in the eyes this time, her own sparkling as her smile brought a genuine one on your face.
“Thank you so much for everything! For this party and everything you’ve done for me! I love you so much, and I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.”
Of course your anger washed away and you scooped her up in a warm hug, gently messing with her hair so as to thank her as well for being brave. Yeonjun even joined in too, kissing the top of your head as you all shared a sweet embrace. Your daughter sniffled in your arms, feeling so much love from the both of you: the best parents in the whole entire world.
“I love you too, Y/D/N. I did this all for you, and I hope you know that. Besides your father also tried the cake we made, which he argued was most important out of everything else.”
“Hey!” Your husband playfully shot you a dirty look and rolled his eyes with pride. “That really was most important since I needed to make sure it tasted good and not poison!”
The two of you just laughed at his response when the chime of the doorbell interrupted the moment. 
Ding! Dong!
Oh, the party! You swore you forgot for almost a second, as so did the rest of your young family. But perfect timing, you supposed. 
“Now sweetie,” you grinned, tilting your head to the door, “should we start your party now?”
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Released: November 25, 2021 (6:15pm)
Thoughts: OMG IM SO SORRY FOR WRITING THIS SO LATE, IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY AND WHILE I JUST GOT FREE TIME, I WAS HOPING I’D WRITE IT DURING MY BREAK T^T and i know it isn’t the best either, but i hope you enjoyed it??? feel free to request again if it isn’t up to standards, although i’m super flattered that you wanted me to write for you again <3 anyway i hope you’re having a great day/night as well and i’m so happy to have written for you again!
Taglist: @dj-fart , @atinyyylove
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abbachioslipstick · 2 days ago
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thx for answering my ask! are u OK by writing more manipulative yandere zeke? if not just ignore this :b
Absolutely! I love answering asks and knowing that you enjoy my work is so awesome to me!~ <3 Also, I apologize in advance for the possible inaccuracy, I haven’t watched AOT in a hot minute ^^; I also apologize for the lateness! Happy holidays!! <3
Warnings: yandere behavior, manipulation, mild assault
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His warm hand clutched your shoulder, leading you closer to a hidden area where no one else could see. Your heart raced faster as you looked up to see his face. His glasses gleamed in the light and made him almost scarier-looking than he already was, if that was even possible. As soon as you rounded the corner, out of sight from the others, you knew you were in for an interesting time.
The man’s hand that previously held your shoulder slammed you into the wall behind you. You could feel Zeke’s heavy breathing close to you, warming your face gently. As if you weren’t warm enough from the situation you were in.
His eyes were terrifyingly sinister, staring at you with a heat that could only be interpreted as passion and possible anger.
Before you had time to let a plea of mercy trickle from your mouth, the man quickly latched to your shoulder and began attacking your neck with kisses and bites. His glasses bumped your cheek, near digging in when he took to focusing on one spot. Your hands reached up to push on his chest as your heart was slamming in your ears.
Zeke’s eyes trailed up your jawline, his lips still attached to your skin and his beard tickling you, causing you to squirm.
“How dare you be so cruel?” He spoke softly into your neck. “How dare you play me like a fool?” He knew your heart. He’d watched you for so long, learning your every weakness and personality trait. Now, Zeke was confident he could play you like a violin. He must choose his words carefully.
You look at him quizzically. You wondered what you did wrong. Why was he so upset?
“You were talking with Eren,” He breathed, mouthing at your neck again. “How dare you do so when I was a mere few feet away? Are you trying to break my heart, my love?” The man takes a long inhale of your scent as he grabs your hands that were still attached to his shirt.
“I-I...” You stutter, words failing you.
“You wouldn’t hurt me...would you?” He questions, sickening sweetness dripping in his voice.
You freeze in confusion. What was so bad about talking to Eren? You knew he got jealous, but not this jealous. Shit, you still have to answer, he’s waiting. Zeke’s hand tightens on yours and you whimper.
You forgot how impatient he gets.
All of a sudden, he gripped your shoulder and slammed you against the brick of the wall. Your head reared back, your skull banging and causing a ringing noise to occur. 
“I said...You wouldn’t hurt me. Right?”
He knew your weak points. You would never hurt your sweet Zeke, he knows this. He observed you for so long, he knows you would never hurt him or even grace over the idea of hurting him in any way. You were too sweet and kind for that. He lifted his head and stared right at you.
You bit your lip in nervousness, looking away to signal that you needed a moment to think. Your ears were still ringing but you knew what you had to do. You turned back to him, looking right into his eyes and reaching your hands out to gently caress his face. He practically purred under your touch as he leaned into your hand, closing his eyes.
In the strongest voice you could muster, you answered: “I’d never hurt you, Zeke.”
Zeke eyed you for a moment, reading your face. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. That’s okay. Even if you were lying, he’d sniff it out sooner or later.
He slowly put a large hand on the wall next to your head and leaned in to kiss your soft lips.
“I know you won’t.”
~
A/N: Hope you enjoyed!! I had fun writing this! ^w^ Thanks for reading!~ <3
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wannabevampire · a month ago
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Hi allie! I just read your fic and I had to message you and let you know HOW AMAZING IT WAS. ITS 10PM HERE AND IM JUST SAT THINKING ABOUT HOW I WISH I WAS IN THAT FIC. the difference between how bucky and Steve are was just *chefs kiss* I swear it was so good!!!! I really hope you plan on writing a second part (and if you do please tag me in it!) 💖
THIS IS JUST THE SWEETEST UGH I LOVE YOU thank you so much for the support and kind words! i was so nervous writing and publishing it!
i will definitely write a second part and i will definitely tag you! thanks again, i read this yesterday but didn’t have the time to post! but just know it had be smiling SO HARD on the bus :] <3
xoxo allie
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sakuroo · a month ago
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mariii my love ♡ hi hellooo !!
how are you?? i hope you're doing okay, idk if your classes already started but i recall you saying that your classes start on monday??? it's monday here today where i live and it's uhm 5:50pm so yea idk DIFF TIMEZONE THINGS??? NDMJDSKJSAJHDJDJ
anw, if it is your first day just wanna wish you goodluck and you can do it, you'll do well !!! hope you have a great great day ahead and always stay safe please, love and kithes for you and hugs bc you need it !! MONDAYS ARE THE WORST SOBBING
- ⚡
hi there lovely! thank you for thinking of me lol i had a pretty good day, things are a bit hectic though so i couldn't really reply to your other asks yet sorry.. wanna take my time for that, esp that kuroo one lol
i hope you're doing great as well and had a better than okay monday! they do suck so much :<
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bucksfucks · 6 months ago
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  𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀
summary┃you didn’t want to be innocent anymore so you decide to confess your sins to father barnes in hopes of him helping you.
pairing┃priest!bucky x f!reader
word count┃3,013 words
warnings┃total blasphemy of religion (christianity) ; don’t read if you’re uncomfortable, significant undefined age-gap (reader is in her 20’s, bucky in late 30’s), innocence kink, thumb sucking, praise kink, bucky is not entirely holy/pure, virginity kink/virginity taking, size kink, pet-names, slight manipulation and/or degradation, bucky scolds reader for her thoughts at first, first time blowjob, first orgasm(s), fingering, corruption kink, unprotected sex, bratty reader for a moment, reader prays for bucky fucking her, bucky finishes on readers dress, lots of symbolism on being pure — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
notes┃for the purpose of this fic, bucky does not have a metal arm <<3
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     Innocence.
    You hated the concept of it.
    Wearing a clean, bright white dress with a sweet smile on your face as you remembered your manners—how could you be anything but innocent?
    It made you cringe, scrunch your nose with a huff as you wanted to scream into your pillow.
    Why did you have to be so innocent?
    Your parents raised you to be a good little Christian girl. Devoting her life to Christ and making sure to attend church every week as you said your prayers before bed every night.
    What your parents didn’t know is what you prayed for.
    Maybe you should’ve prayed for your health, or even your happiness, but no.
    You prayed for your innocence being stripped, ripped away from you and staining that perfectly clean white dress you snarled at.
    Church was a chore, an absolute bore even, until Father Barnes made his way into town.
    All eyes were on him as he greeted those who walked into his church on early mornings. He was soft and kind, kissing the cheeks of the women and shaking the hands of the men.
    You also saw how women would fawn over him, whispering in the pews about how good he looked behind the alter before giggling.
    But, how could you blame them when you had the same, darker, dirtier thoughts.
    It was obvious what he did to you; legs crossing over another, tongue gliding over your bottom lip, and the ache between your thighs just from the way his eyes met yours.
    You remember the first time you baked your famous chocolate chip cookies for the annual church bake sale, Father Barnes buying nearly all of them after you gave him one on the house (as a secret).
    “These are nearly as sweet as you,” Father Barnes winked, quickly licking some of the melted chocolate off his fingers.
    It made your heart flutter as you dropped your head to look at your feet, “thank you, Father.”
    He seemed to grimace at the name, “call me, Bucky, yeah? It’ll be our little secret.”
    You had still never been able to call him Bucky. It felt almost wrong, but it had always been on the tip of your tongue.
    If your mother heard you call him that she’d scold you for being so rude. She insisted that you be a good and proper lady.
    You just made a face when she turned around.
    You didn’t want to be a proper lady. You dreamed of the stories you heard when you were in the city, a table over from girls chatting about their nights out.
    You wanted that.
    Above all else, you wanted Father Barnes. You knew it was wrong, to fantasize about him, but you couldn’t help it.
~
    “Father Barnes?” You found yourself saying his name as you sat atop of one of the tables on the side of the alter that was used for communion to hold the chalices.
    He hummed, looking up from his Bible, “what is it, Angel?”
    Your stomach fluttered at the pet-name. You knew it was nothing special, but it always made you feel something.
    “Can I ask you a question?” You felt small under his gaze, turning his undivided attention to you as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth.
    “Of course you can, that’s what I’m here for.” He smiled and you felt safe with him—you always did.
    Perhaps that’s why you felt safe with the confession you were about to spill.
    “I’ve had these feelings,” you begin, avoiding eye contact with him as you felt ashamed.
    “About a man. And he’s much older than me.” That seemed to truly grab his attention. His eyebrows snot up, jaw clenching as you stopped speaking.
    He tensed, body stiff and the soft look on his face was replaced with a much sterner, angrier look.
    “These are not Holy thoughts, are they?” He asked, but he knew the answer as you shook your head in shame.
    You were a disgrace, the house of God being desecrated by your words as you stood in it—sitting practically at the alter.
    “You’re going to confess, understood? Tomorrow.” He finally said, going back to his verses as you just nodded.
    “I’m sorry, Father,” you squeaked, hopping off of the small table and onto the old, wooden floors of the church.
    You were just about to pass him when he gently stopped you by grabbing your arm. You met his eyes and they were soft, but dark.
    “I don’t want you to go down the same path that I did, Angel. I’m here to guide you, I cannot let an innocent girl like you fall into the desires I did.”
    Your breathing got caught in your throat—you knew he wasn’t as Holy as he made himself out to be.
    Reborn or not, he was dark on the inside.
    “Aren’t you tired of it?” You asked, “tired of the innocence?”
    He chuckled, shaking his head, “I may be Holy, but I’m not innocent, Angel.”
    Your skin felt like it was ablaze where his fingers met your body. Grip just tight enough to keep you anchored and tethered to him.
    “Well I’m tired of it. I hate being innocent.”
    Your words hit him in the chest, nostrils flaring as he cocked his head to the side.
    “I know you’re a good girl, so I’ll excuse this behaviour after three Hail Mary’s.” He was scolding you, treating you like a child.
    You rolled your eyes, “no.”
    You don’t know what had gotten into you, but you knew that familiar ache between your thighs was back and Bucky had an almost feral look in his eyes.
    His chest was heaving under the plain black dress shirt he was wearing. Despite lacking his ceremonial cassock, the clerical collar wrapped snug around his neck made him appear Holy.
    “Angel,” his tone was warning, but he never once let go of your arm.
    “Take my innocence, Father. I want you to be the one.” You whispered, not missing the low groan that fell from his lips.
    “I know that no man my age will ever know how to treat me right. I want you to ruin me, to take my innocence away finally.”
    Your own eyes were wild, heart racing in your chest as your breathing was as steady as you could have made it.
    It was impossible to know what he would say next. He could punish you, tell your mother, expose you to the entire town.
    “When it’s late at night and you can’t sleep, do you touch yourself, Angel?” His voice had dropped an octave, rumbling through his chest as you feel the fire ignite inside of you.
    “Sometimes,” you whisper, Father Barnes dropping your arm only to cradle your face.
    “And does it feel good?” He purrs, thumb brushing over your cheek as you nod your head.
    He hums, “but I bet you want more, right?”
    Again, you nod your head, ache burning through your white cotton panties as your fingers play with the hem of that white dress you despised so much.
    “I’ll teach you, Angel,” he finally says, “but,” there it was.
    “It has to be our little secret, just like how I told you to call me Bucky, remember?” He smiles and you feel your stomach flip in excitement.
    “I promise,” you told him before his lips slotted gently against yours.
    You’d had your first kiss, but, it was never like this. It was a peck with your first and only boyfriend. He didn’t do anything more than hold your hand occasionally.
    He was sweet, but never the man of your dreams.
    Bucky’s lips glided over yours seamlessly, tongue poking into your mouth and it made you gasp before you leaned into it.
    “Jus’ relax,” he smiled into the kiss, “don’t forge anythin’, do what comes naturally.”
    And you did, wrapping your arms around his neck as you were pulled back in for another kiss as he held you close to his broad chest.
    “I need you to get on your knees for me, Angel. Like you do for worship.” He murmurs against your lips.
    You do as you’re told, sinking to your knees until your face is right at his crotch.
    A shiver runs down your spine, you’d never been this close to any man ever. He was bulging, outline of his cock straining as he tipped your head up.
    “Don’t worry, Angel. ‘M gonna take care of you, and this is a very important lesson.” He smirks, thumb resting on your bottom lip.
    You nod, eager and ready to get stripped of your innocence.
    “Good girl,” the praise is simple, but it makes you feel proud.
    “Open your mouth for me,” he purrs, thumb past your lips as your lips instinctively wrap around his digit.
    He smiles, “that’s it, relax that tongue of yours, Angel. Pretend like you’re suckin’ on a popsicle, gonna have to hollow your cheeks out.”
    You take a deep breath, following his instruction as you slowly suck on his thumb.
    When he removes it with a soft pop, your eyes are trailed on the saliva coating it and you have to squeeze your legs together.
    “Uh uh, stop that,” you still, “I know, it’s uncomfortable Angel. But it’ll feel so much better this way, okay?”
    You whimper, biting your lip, “it hurts,” you whine.
    He sighs, just watching you pout as you see the way his dick twitches, “then undo my pants, Angel.”
    You’re fingers are slightly lost, going to his top button before you’re sliding his zipper down and looking at him for instructions.
    “Take me out, you won’t hurt me, darling.” You’ve never done this, never been so close and so intimate with someone and it sparks something inside of you.
    He’s warm, throbbing, and thick as you pull him free. It makes you gasp, “it’s so big.” You whisper in awe.
    He chuckles, body shaking slightly with his laughter, “there’s nothin’ to be afraid of, Angel.”
    “Open your mouth, just like with my thumb, yeah?” He cooes as you stick your tongue out and lick the head of his cock.
    The groan that rumbles through his chest is filthy and it only encourages you as you slip him into your mouth.
    It’s foreign and he tastes salty and bitter, but you love it.
    “Mmm, good girl,” he hums, “but you’re gonna wanna make a mess, yeah?”
    You’re not too sure what he means so you look up at him, “spit on my cock, Angel.”
    Your eyes go wide and you’re looking at him unsure, but do what you’re told.
    “Now just like this, okay?” He wraps his larger hands over yours as he helps you stroke him.
    He lets his hand fall, your own working his cock before your mouth is back on his and you’re humming around him.
    You think it’s not very different from a popsicle, in fact, you like it so much more.
    “Such a quick learner, Angel. Is this what you’ve been prayin’ for?” He taunts you darkly, goosebumps pricking your skin.
    Your salvia coats him, hands working him and you’re enjoying the moment before you’re being yanked to your feet.
    “That’s enough, don’t wanna get too carried away now,” Bucky smirks, wiping your lips with his tongue.
    “Did I do good?” You ask, preening before him for any sort of praise.
    He laughs, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you against him—his cock pressing against your clean white dress.
    “So good, Angel.” He hums, spinning you around to set you down on one of the table near the alter.
    “But now it’s your turn,” he smirks as he hikes your dress up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist.
    You feel exposed, eyes flickering to the empty pews and abandoned church as you lick your lips in anticipation.
    It’s blasphemy, pure unadulterated blasphemy and you’ll never be able to go to church the same way.
    “Now these are cute,” Bucky smirks, fingers running up your inner thighs until they’re resting on your panty clad core.
    You furrow your eyebrows at the word cute. But before you can say anything you’re gasping, shock of pleasure running through your limbs suddenly.
    “And look,” he’s got his fingers pressed against the bundle of nerves that makes you moan into the palm of your own hand.
    “Angel, you’re absolutely soaked.” You aren’t sure if that’s a good thing, but you’re aching for him—not even sure what you’re aching for; just something, anything.
    His fingers are warm as they slip under your panties, gliding through your folds—the feeling is entirely new and you’re already addicted.
    “Is-is that good?” You manage to squeak out as he focuses his fingers on that delicate bunch of nerves.
    “Oh it’s perfect, Angel,” his lips are against your neck as he slowly works you until you can feel pressure forming in your lower belly.
    He stops, fingers stilling as you pry your eyes open and take a deep breath, “why’d you stop?”
    “Have you ever cum, darling?” He disregards your question for his own.
    You gulp, shaking your head “I’ve tried, but I never could.”
    He smirks, liking your answer before he withdraws his hand and gets you to stand on the ground again. He smoothed your dress down before his hands creep up it and hook into the waistband of your panties.
    You watch him as he pulls them down your legs, letting you step out of them before he’s crumpling them up and stuffing them in his pocket.
    “They’re mine now, Angel.”
    A wicked shiver runs down your spine as he hoists you back onto the table, opening your legs to reveal your naked pussy.
    He sucks in a breath, groaning at the sight before his eyes lock with yours again.
    You can feel his fingers run down your mound, through the hair until he’s prodding at your entrance.
    “‘M gonna have to get you nice and stretched out for me, okay?” He whispers and you swallow thickly, nodding your head.
    You moan when you feel his finger slip inside of you, “that’s it, feels nice, right?”
    He lets you adjust before pumping in and out until you’re begging for a second finger.
    “Do you think you can handle it, Angel?” He hums, teasing you as he slowly adds a second as you hiss and knit your eyebrows together.
    “Jus’ a little bit more, darling.” He hums. You feel full, the slight burning sensation subsides and it feels better than anything you could have imagined.
    He pumps them, palm hitting your clit before he begins to curl them inside of you and it makes you moan.
    “That’s it, Angel. Scream for the heavens to hear.” He teases you and how could you resist a request like that one.
    That same bubbling feeling begins to form again and you start to panic because you’ve never gotten any further than this point.
    “Shh shh shh, darling. It’s okay, jus’ relax, it’s about to feel so good.”
    The second those words leave his mouth your jaw drops and your legs seize as your orgasm hits you.
    It leaves you dizzy and breathless before you open your eyes, “I think you’re ready, Angel. You’re ready to receive me.”
    You whimper, watching him free himself again before he fists his cock.
    “‘S gonna hurt, but only for a little bit, okay Angel?” Bucky assures you, your eyes locked on his white collar as you nod your head.
    “Yes, Father,” you say instinctively and something snaps in Bucky.
    “Good girl, confessin’ your sins and trustin’ me with takin’ your virginity.”
    It’s the first time that word slips past his mouth, slowly stretching you. When you throw your head back, eyes locking with the Holy Cross, your brain fuzzes with nothing but the thought of Bucky.
    “Every time you get on your knees,” he sinks further, “every time you come to church on Sunday’s.” He’s almost fully seated in you as you feel tears brimming your waterline.
    “You’ll be thinkin’ of my cock buried deep ‘side of your tight pussy.”
    You shudder, a few tears slipping down your cheeks, “don’t cry, Angel. That’s it, that was all of me.” He cooes, wiping your tears with his thumb.
    “Look at me,” he hums, your eyes are glossy as they open to look at him, “your prayers have been answered.” He smirks wickedly and you feel your heart drop.
    “You’re not innocent anymore, you’re all for me now.” His nose runs down your jaw as his fingers dig deeper into the skin of your hips.
    “You have any idea how hard it’s gonna be preachin’ with you sittin’ there all pretty as if my cock wasn’t deep ‘side you?” He moves his hips, thrusting against you as you moan.
    “How’s it feel, Angel?” He purrs, “so good, Father,” you gasp.
    Both of your moans echo through the tall ceilings of the church, Father Barnes’ skin slapping against yours as you’re clinging onto him.
    “I can feel you squeezin’ me, darling.” You feel him deep inside of you, walls massaging him as you feel the pressure building again.
    “You can cum for me, Angel. There’s no need to hold back, no one can hear us,” he smirks, feeling you come undone right underneath him.
    He pulls out, cock still hard and aching as he holds your chin between his fingers, “it’s a good thing you wore white, darling.” He groans, confused before you feel hot specks against your body.
    When you look down you see the white hot spurts painting your dress with his cum.
    He’s breathing heavy, cock still in his hand as he looks up at with a sly smile.
    “You’ve still got so much to learn, Angel. I’ll hold private office hours just for you.”
    Your heart skips a beat at the proposal and you can’t wait for Sunday to come around quicker.
    Lucky for you, laundry day wasn’t for another week, which means you’d have to wear the same dress—stained with secrets only you and Father Barnes know of.
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buckybarnesdiaries · 7 months ago
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a place called home
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© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3
word count: 1.206 words.
warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.
As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.
You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.
“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.
You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.
“He looks good, uh?”
“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.
“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.
“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.
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As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.
“Wait! Lemme help”.
The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.
“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.
“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.
Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.
“Good night, (Y/N)”.
You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.
“He— Hey, wait”.
“Uh?”
“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”
Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.
“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.
The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.
After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.
“It’s good to have a home to come back”.
“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”
“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.
Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.
For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)
Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?
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velvetcardiganbucky · 9 months ago
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Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??
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Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added
To be added please tag me in your future works!
Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...
If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3
Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.
Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)
Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)
Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)
Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)
Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)
Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.
Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.
Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”
Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.
All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.
Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?
Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.
Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.
To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)
✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader
✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.
✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.
Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!
Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.
my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.
Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader
Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)
I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.
Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.
Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.
Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.
Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress
A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*
The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader
off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader
The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*
What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.
Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!
These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.
Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.
AO3 Website Reccomendations
Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.
Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.
Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.
off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.
The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)
Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.
Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!
Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.
The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.
Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.
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torubabe · 6 months ago
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— brotherly
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pairing: choso × yuji’s older sister!reader ︴wc: 4.1k
synopsis: choso, yuji’s newly found older brother, is adamant on making you accept him as your onii-chan
genres: dark content, angst, smut, porn with plot, nsfw
warnings: manga spoilers, elements of incest, use of onii-chan, explicit NONCON, light fingering, light hairpulling, praise, unprotected sex, mild breeding kink, forced orgasm, body betrayal
a/n: this is my entry for @sugawara-sweetheart decadence collab, thanks for letting me join neems <3 this is my first dark fic, so please let me know if i forgot to tag anything! please don’t read if you feel uncomfortable with dark content.
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choso.
his name, hearing anything related to him always made you feel icky. maybe because the first time you heard his name was right after your little brother almost died by his hands. that was, after your brother and his friends had killed his twin brothers.
a pierced liver. your little yuji, the boy who didn’t even think about becoming a sorcerer and was an athletic prodigy at his school prior to becoming sukuna’s vessel, went on missions, leaving you worrying for his well-being every single time. the incident that had left yuuji seriously wounded was a sudden attack in shibuya and you received the bad news in the middle of practice for the upcoming track and field nationals.
you had hit rock bottom, couldn’t focus on anything except for your brother’s recovery. it was speedy thanks to his outstandingly gifted body, but you could never mentally recover from seeing yuji laying in the hospital bed, lifeless and pale.
but now? everyone acts as if nothing happened, especially yuji. choso is as close to the sorcerers as ever, having switched to their side almost immediately after the shibuya incident. it was like a switch had flipped inside of him, yuji himself had been confused for some time. now there’s no trace of said confusion and distrust anymore.
when he broke the news to you that choso and him had become really close allies, the former enemy even going so far as to call yuji his little brother, you were fuming. you didn’t want someone as dangerous and villainous as him to befriend your brother and call him his family. as always, yuuji never listened to you, and he went on and on, telling you about how great and strong choso is and how protective he is over him.
your sisterly, no, motherly heart couldn’t help but be worried about their relation. you never met choso, but you couldn’t trust the man who almost took yuji away from you months ago.
“no injuries, i see,” you remark as you serve your little brother a big plate of rice and duck that he has been drooling over for the past couple of days. you can’t help but smile, it’s nice to have him over at your place from time to time when both of you are free. it’s been really empty without him, you can’t deny how much you miss his loud self. “how’s it going?”
yuuji digs in, nodding energetically as he chews on the food. ”amazing!”, he exclaims happily with a full mouth and you cringe at both his poor manners and the upcoming words, “choso and i are the perfect team. he’s super strong!”
choso this, choso that. it’s always him.
you clench your jaw, your food remaining untouched as you exhale loudly. your day was bad enough, practice hasn’t been going well lately and your coach is treating you like shit. and now you have to listen to your brother fawning over the man who almost killed him? today can’t get any worse.
“he wants to meet you! it’s only natural for my brother to be your brother too, right…?” displeasure is written all over your face, so yuuji officially sees choso as his brother now? he had been weirded out by the whole brother thing before.
it’s not in your hands, it really isn’t. but when images of your brother holding onto life in that hospital bed start flashing in front of your eyes, you can’t stop it. “yuji,” you state coldly, a tone that makes him gulp down his food and widen his eyes, “choso was a villain, he almost killed you! how can you expect me to invite him home, let alone consider him family?”
your words sadden yuji. choso is a nice guy, a perfect brother. he understands that you’re just worried, but it’s all over. the man is by his side all the time, risking getting hurt himself to protect your little brother. shouldn’t you be a bit thankful?
the disappointed look in your brother’s big, brown eyes makes your heart ache. all you want is for yuji to be happy. if that means having someone you rightfully dislike with a passion over only once, then so be it. it would only be a few hours, you’d tell yuji that you don’t like him and don’t want him around anymore, and then he wouldn’t bother you again. you could endure his ‘choso is the best big brother on the planet’ talks, you listen to enough crap anyway.
you would never like or forgive choso. that’s for certain. but you are still curious what kind of person he is.
“next monday for dinner”, you sigh and your heart feels less heavy when yuuji grins brightly. “i hope he likes soba.”
“you’re the best, nee-chan!”
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monday comes quicker than you anticipated. you’re preparing dinner solemnly, trying to be positive about your little brother and your newly found big brother visiting. how old is he anyway? it doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t call him weird stuff like nii-san anyway. the thought of it alone makes you recoil.
when the door is opened soundly, accompanied by yuji laughing happily and stomping in, you turn off the stove with a smile on your face, patting your hands on the fabric of your jeans after rinsing them as you head to the entrance. you pull yuji into a hug as he squeezes you tightly and look around, eyes hardening as they settle on a large figure standing at the doorway.
“come in, choso!”, yuji giggles, but the man makes no move. “sorry, onii-chan. come on!” you let go of yuji, onii-chan? you ignore the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach and turn on the lights in the dark hallway, fully facing your little brother’s onii-chan.
and oh god does he look intimidating. he looks like every single thing you’d want to keep your little brother away from in a person. dark, sunken eyes with purple eyebags that make him look like he hasn’t slept in a good decade, black wild hair tied up in two weird ponytails with most of the strands falling over his forehead, a black tattoo in the shape of a rectangle gracing his nose and reaching under both his sleep-depraved eyes, deadly pale skin and a quite odd choice of clothing.
yuji had told you about his abilities before on multiple occasions, was it blood manipulation? maybe that’s why he looks so... inhuman. but he’s literally a half-curse, so you’re thankful you don’t have a single-eyed glob with four legs and arms standing at your door.
you have a bad feeling, a really bad one, but you offer him a forced smile. “come in”, you speak, trying not to show that you’d rather have him out of your house as soon as possible. “yuji told me a lot about you.”
choso steps inside after nodding timidly and you realize how huge he is. you don’t want to know how much muscle mass he hides under his baggy clothes.
“thanks for having me here”, he speaks politely, voice husky and deep, and your eyes go wide when he pulls out a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind his back. yuji only grins as you give him a glare. “yuji said you like them.”
you hesitantly take the bouquet from his large hand, nearly jumping when your fingers come in touch with his icy skin. “you didn’t have to... thanks, choso”, you mumble with an uneasy smile. choso tenses up a little and yuuji slaps his back softly. “she’ll come around eventually, it took me months to get used to calling you onii-chan!” he laughs and you turn around to find a vase for the flowers, eyebrows furrowing at your brother’s words. like hell you will.
luckily, choso isn’t that talkative, so you’re not forced to talk too much either. it’s more or less yuji talking about both of your similarities, telling choso everything about you and vice versa. he shows interest when finding out that you’re an athlete, agreeing with yuji who suggests that he should tag along to watch you at the next event, which you can’t even be displeased about. you were busy processing during almost the entirety of dinner that choso is over 150 years old. you guess that comes with being not entirely human.
other than that, he doesn’t seem to be as intimidating as he looked at first glance. he smiles quite often, and even looks soft sometimes. you hate yourself for it, but he’s illegally handsome for someone you’re supposed to hate.
still, yuji could beg all he wants, you’d never call him onii-chan or think of him as a brother. after the two leave, you watch them from the window until they disappear, a grim look on your face that only deepens when your phone buzzes with messages from yuji.
from: little brother <3
i told you he’s not a bad person!!
btw he loves you already
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the next time you see choso is rather unexpected, a couple of weeks after the first time. totally unannounced and at the probably worst time. when and why did yuji even give him the keys to your apartment?
“i have not been slacking off!”, you defend yourself, not even aware of the man who just came in and is listening to you yell into your phone, wearing a bathrobe as you had just taken a bath, “i just don’t want to be humiliated by you every single time! i deserve some fucking appreciation, i’m one of the best in japan!”
you almost let out a scream when you turn around to pace into the kitchen out of frustration and throw a glass or two against the wall in frustration, what the fuck is he doing here? utterly ignoring your coach’s enraged retort, you hang up and your hand shoots up to cover your cleavage and calm your racing heart.
“choso... why are you here?”, you ask, looking around for any potential objects from your peripheral vision to defend yourself when it comes to the crunch. “anyway, it’s not a good time, and way too late. please leave and come with yuji next time.”
you totally meant to sound rude. he deserves it. for barging in like that as if he has the right, as if- as if he’s yuji... as if he’s your family.
“was that your coach?” he asks calmly, ignoring your utter discomfort as you try to back away with every slow step he takes towards you. he probably doesn’t mean to come off as scary, but he is kind of scaring the shit out of you. “you were crying. what did he do?”
you rub at your bloodshot eyes, scoffing as you shake your head. it’s none of his business. “please leave, choso”, you repeat, voice wavering when he gets even closer. that’s okay, he’s going to leave eventually.
is he? you can’t be sure anymore after seeing the cold look in his eyes. is he angry? whatever happens, you’re going to kill yuji. you hate him for always causing you nothing but trouble his whole damn life.
“i want to help you get rid of all your problems” he talks, the corners of his lips curling up into a disturbing smile that almost makes you shiver. “i’m your onii-chan, after all. i’d do anything for you.” you curse your luck when instead of the counter where you had left a knife to dry, your back collides with the kitchen table. you’re trapped, you feel so dumb. you should have just ran the moment you saw him.
“onii-chan?”, you repeat sweetly, bile rising up in your throat when his smile turns affectionate. “fuck you. you’re nothing to me. go live out your perverse fantasies on someone else and stay the hell away from my brother.”
your harsh words catch the formerly happy half-curse off-guard and give you time to push him away from you, bolting towards the entrance door to get out. you couldn’t care less if you’d wake your neighbors, all you care about is not getting harmed by choso. he is a monster, after all.
he’s still in the kitchen when you push the handle down and open the door- try to open the locked door, crying out with wide eyes and beating your fists against it when it doesn’t budge. when you hear the jangling of keys, you turn around and see them dangling around choso’s long fingers, arrogance lacing his insomniac hues that are set on you.
“my sister is a good athlete, isn’t she?”, he challenges you as you let go of the locked door and exhale shakily. “come and get the keys. you can escape if you’re fast enough.” with a sneer, you cautiously make your way to the man, heart beating out of your chest. you don’t think you’ll make it, he’d grab you the second you take the keys.
except, he doesn’t give you the chance to paw at his hand and steal them. choso has you slammed against the kitchen table in a split second, towering over you with a sick glint in his eyes as you cry out in pain. “we’re an awfully gifted family, don’t you think?”, he rasps as one of his large hands wraps around both of your wrists to keep them above your head and his eyes wander from your face to your robe-clad body. “you are fast. but i forgot to tell you that i have awfully good reflexes.”
he laughs heartily when you rear your leg back to kick him anywhere and free yourself, only to groan when choso’s other hand finds your bare knee and he squeezes it in a warning way. his body is almost fully on top of yours now, face mere inches away from yours as he smiles. “i would hate to hurt you, my lovely sister, especially since your skin is so soft... so how about you just apologize to your onii-chan?”, he offers you, his grip on your wrists loosening, but not enough for you to break free.
“apologize for what?”, you gasp, trying to close your legs when you see his eyes wandering, but choso doesn’t allow you to as he wedges himself in-between them. “i didn’t do anything...” your brother’s former enemy sighs, cold thumb tracing across the protruding veins on your wrists. you’re so soft and adorable... his perfect, little sister.
“i know that you hate me”, he states, taking you aback by nuzzling his pointed nose into your neck, no, no. you try to back away, roll over and throw both of you down, but you’re too weak. it’s ironic that so many years of practice do nothing. “it’s fine, you’ll come to love me eventually. but yuji respects me, my other two brothers used to respect me too. you don’t, and i don’t like that.”
his voice is low against your skin, hair tickling your bare neck as his lips linger on your pulse point. “so fast. are you scared of me?”, he asks, thin eyebrows furrowing in irritation as you keep trying to push him away from in-between your legs, but his hand is wandering up your thigh threateningly, too close to your bare private parts. “if fear is what will make you respect and accept me, then so be it.”
choso distracts his face from your neck, a pleased look on his eyes as he easily pulls at the white bathrobe to expose your naked body. you scream as your eyes fill with tears, you’d do anything to get out of this now. “i’m sorry! i’m sorry!”, you cry, lips trembling as your begging eyes meet his ironically warm ones. “please... let’s talk. i’m sorry.”
it’s funny to choso how you went from telling him to fuck himself to apologizing so pathetically and begging him to talk. he’s a patient man with lots of self-control, even more to his lovely siblings, but you’ve come to a point of no return. with your mature body on display, bare chest heaving up and down with every frantic breath you take, delicious curves and such tender skin being offered to him, he can’t stop himself.
it would make things so much easier. you wouldn’t dare call him anything else but onii-chan when he’s done with you, will look at him with nothing but love in your eyes, you’ll be the perfect little sister, sweet and obedient. don’t worry, he’ll make sure not to hurt you too much.
it’s sweet how your watery eyes go even wider when you feel something hard poking your inner thighs. “don’t do this!” you exclaim, surprising choso because you’re still putting up a fight. “i’ll do anything! please... onii-chan!”
oh. this is probably the worst timing you chose for calling him that. you realize that in horror when his chiseled jaw goes slack and he groans lowly, his cock growing painfully hard in its confines as he tugs and rips at anything restricting him. you cry harder when he grabs you by your squirming hips to pull you closer to him. “again”, choso grunts, cold hands running up and down your body as you shiver and sob. “say it again.”
“onii-chan...” you squint your eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore choso’s pale fingers rubbing slow circles on your embarrassingly wet lower lips as he smiles down at you. you try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere, and not being ravished by a man you’ve never trusted. a row of choked hiccups leaves your lips when he slides two of his fingers in at once, the wet squelching sounds making you want to bury yourself six feet under.
this isn’t happening. this is a bad dream. you’re going to wake up, everything will be normal as always, this is not happening... you wail when you remember how unthankful you had been ten minutes ago, complaining to yourself soundly in the bathtub about how unsatisfying your life was.
now, you’d take anything over this. you’d take having all your efforts and hard work go to waste, lose all tournaments, and even get injured. anything but being beneath the man who could have become your brotherly figure, naked and crying.
“i’m sorry, little sister”, choso whispers into your ear and you feel his breath hitting your cheek, feel his piercing stare even with closed eyes, “i wanted to take my sweet time with you, but i can’t wait anymore. will you forgive onii-chan?”
you shake your head fiercely, eyes opening fearfully when he spits into his hand and lubes his shaft up. you can’t look at it, can’t look at him. your head whips to the side to stare at the dark windows, a tired snivel leaving you when choso aligns himself at your entrance and touches your cheek in the softest way, making your eyes meet.
he looks soft, so peaceful. it makes you think that he had planned this all along ever since the first time you met. or maybe even before.
“don’t look so sad”, he hums, cold lips meeting your tear-stained temples before pushing in, forcing his way inside your tense body inch by inch, and it burns. the stretch is excruciatingly painful and you fidget, fighting against his vice grip on your waist. “fuck... relax for onii-chan, princess. i don’t want to hurt you.”
you almost think that choso pities you when he gives you time to adjust to his size and girth, taking off the rest of his clothing to make your moments even more intimate and special. how is that possible when it’s happening on your cold kitchen table, unwanted and rushed?
“it hurts... it hurts...”, you whimper, hands shooting up to clutch his bare shoulders and try to push as you sit up. you’re weak, tired, and you know that nothing will help at this point, but you still try. “choso, please... i won’t tell yuji. i’ll forget this ever happened.”
choso looks enraged, and you scream when one of his hands leaves your hip to find the back of your head and pull your hair so hard that you could swear he’s pulled a chunk out. your neck cranes and you cry hysterically when he pulls out, only to slam back into you.
“what did you just call me?”, he asks you threateningly with his baritone voice even lower than before, his thrusts torturously slow and hard as he glowers at you, fingertips digging into your scalp as you cry. “it’s onii-chan. onii-chan. now try again.”
choso lets go of your head and pushes your back onto the table again, hands bracing on either side of your head and trapping you after wrapping your trembling legs around his waist. “o-onii-chan... it hurts!”, you weep and the anger fades from his eyes in a heartbeat as one of his hands wanders back to your stretched-out cunt, running his slim fingers across it and shuddering when you tighten around him even more at the additional stimulation.
“we shouldn’t be doing this!” you can’t hold back the pained moan when his pace increases, jaw agape as his hips meet your ass with ruthless slams, the sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating across the whole empty apartment. it’s so cold. you’re so tired. you just want to sleep.
“w-we are siblings...” you mumble and choso hums lowly, thumbs wiping blindly at your tears as he buries his face into your neck and breathes in your heavenly scent, sucking and biting at the flesh to leave his marks.
“we are,” he confirms in-between heavy breaths and your eyes are blank, you feel empty. “i’m doing this because you are my sister. i’ll do anything for you. you deserve all the best, my sweet sister.” the calmness in his voice is sickening, but it’s laced with venomous possession.
his thrusts continue and your eyes find his again while your arms wrap around his neck, the pain fading slowly but steadily. more tears leave your swollen eyes when you feel the familiar coil in the pit of your stomach. you hate your body for doing this to you. it’s shameful, having to bite back moans as his pounding becomes relentless and he keeps hitting that spot that has you seeing stars, his veiny and curved cock kissing your cervix over and over.
“you’re close... aren’t you?” choso pants and you gasp when he grows even bigger inside of you, the unwanted pleasure increasing by every second that passes making you panic and shake. “it’s okay, princess. you can let go. i’m close too...”
you moan involuntarily when his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, resulting from his need to be closer to you, even closer than he was before. his tongue quickly invades your mouth, ragged breathing mingling with yours as his hard strokes become erratic, losing their fast and steady rhythm.
the knot in your abdomen tightens and one his last hard thrust sends you over the edge, mouth falling open in a muted scream when the coil snaps, explodes. “so good for me... my perfect little sister. gonna fill you up”, he grunts and with a few more ruts into your sensitive pussy, he stills, shooting his load into you. it’s too much, way too much, and when choso holds your squirming body tightly, surely leaving bruises, fucking his cum into you and rubbing your overstimulated clit, you come again with a pained screech.
“you’re so lovely”, choso coos at your devastated self with flushed, sweaty skin, bruises littered all over your body and half-lidded eyes. you don’t move when he kisses you chastely with a tender look in his dark hues, and you feel yourself tearing up once again. he pulls out slowly, eliciting a quiet whimper from you as you feel his fluids leaking out of your abused hole. he’s as proud of you as a brother could be, chest swelling at how good you took him. you’d be even more gorgeous with a swollen belly, carrying your onii-chan’s offsprings. yuji would also be incredibly happy, he can imagine.
when choso places his hand on your tummy, you curl in on yourself, feeling incredibly disgusting the more you grow aware of what actually happened. none of this would have happened if you didn’t allow yuji to bring choso over a few weeks ago. you shouldn’t have given him a chance, shouldn’t have believed that he was a good person.
“shh, it’s okay, onii-chan is right here”, choso shushes your silent cries as he pulls your shivering body into his chest, lifting you up and carrying you towards your bedroom, acting like he has been living with you for years. “onii-chan...”, you mumble in defeat, sensing his satisfied smile without looking at him when he pulls you into him on your bed, feathery touches lulling you to sleep.
in the living room, your phone lights up with messages from yuji.
from: little brother <3
how was onii-chan’s surprise??
thank me later! :D
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stargazingfangirl18 · 9 months ago
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Necessary Arrangements: Part 3: To Have & To Hold
Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader Word Count: 6,243 Summary: You’re settling into married life with Andy when you see just how far he’s willing to go to protect you. 🚨Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Unprotected sex. Attempted murder. Minor character death. Violence. Mob AU. Dark fic (just to be safe). Soft!dark mob!Andy. 18+ ONLY! 🚨
A/N: Okay, my pretties, this idea for our mob!Andy & sweet!Reader from my Blackmail Kinktober Fic would not leave my brain, so I had to write it as a oneshot set in this same mob universe/timeline I’ve created (I’m calling this series/world Necessary Arrangements btw 🤓). This is dark, and some of you may not be happy about this, but wellll this is mob!Andy 🤷🏻‍♀️😘
P.S. A big honkin’ thank you and lots of love to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me polish this one just right. Ilu, hoemate ❤️❤️❤️
Necessary Arrangements Series Masterlist
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You stared down at the beautiful wedding band/engagement ring combo that sat heavy on your ring finger, twisting them back and forth so the the array of diamonds and platinum sparkled beautifully in the low light of the living room.
“It really is a lovely set,” your mother’s quiet voice washed over you, and you glanced up at her seated beside you on the sofa, and tried to smile.
It was more of a grimace though, and she stared at you with a sorrow filled gaze as she wrapped her arm around you and tugged you against her side.
The urge to cry washed over you, but you stubbornly stuffed it down. You’d done enough crying over the past month.
The past month that had been a whirlwind of “shaking hands” with mobster Andy Barber after he’d attempted a coup on your family. He wanted to eliminate the competition once your father had died, and he thought the competition had been your teenage brother.
When he discovered it had been you--your family’s soft, pretty little secret--their eldest daughter who’d been hidden away and protected from the harsh family business and mob life, Andy had shifted tactics quickly.
He quite simply made you an offer you couldn’t refuse - marry him, bolster his own fairly new syndicate with your family’s revered name and legacy, and he’d not only spare your family but protect all of you from your late father’s enemies and competition.
You knew nothing about this life or how to navigate it, and your father had barely been in the ground for a few days before the wolves had come out to prey on your family.
Just like Andy had preyed on you that night, taken what he’d wanted from you and made you like it. It was shameful how quickly your body had surrendered to his, how quickly you had surrendered to him.
Andy’s offer was the only way you could think of to keep your family safe, so you had accepted his twisted, impromptu marriage proposal.
From there, the past month had been a blur of wedding planning and preparation. You hadn’t even had the time to mourn the loss of the life you wanted to live, because Andy had charged you with planning the wedding. He insisted that it was everything you wanted it to be despite the fact that the wedding itself was the very last thing you wanted.
It was as ironic as it was cruel.
That’s not fair, the traitorous little voice whispered in the back of your mind.
It was the voice that tended to root for Andy over you. The voice that reminded you of all the concessions and compromises Andy had made so far to try and win you over despite his underhanded way of ensnaring you in the first place.
He allowed you to be close to your family, agreeing to stay in the country manor with your mother and brother until the renovations were completed on your family’s second estate--your favorite--which would be your new home together.
You’d been surprised that Andy had been so willing to sell his luxurious Boston penthouse so that you could be closer to your family and the homes where you were only able to spend fleeing moments of your childhood before being spirited far, far away from the family business and all the ugliness that came with it.
“Has he...been kind to you?” Your mother’s voice was a quiet murmur, wavering a little as it pulled you from your thoughts.
You glanced up at her to find her gaze on her lap, where your sleeping brother’s head rested. You watched as your mother’s fingers softly pet his hair.
“He hasn’t hurt you?” she pressed.
You swallowed, feeling a warm wash of shame rise over you.
You knew what she was asking, and part of you wished you could claim that Andy had been a brutal monster with you, had victimized you night after night and solidified his place as the irrefutable villain of your story...but he hadn’t.
Far from it.
Andy spent each night worshipping you just as he had promised. No matter how stiff you were, how you never initiated sex or intimacy with him, despite how much you tried to resist him and how good he made you feel.
Andy was masterful at working you over until you were desperate for him, begging him to break you apart and allowing him to hold you close after as you slowly put yourself back together again.
At this point, it was no mere exaggeration to say that Andy knew your body so much better than you. He was a skillful maestro conducting the symphony of your pleasure night after night, until he reduced you to nothing more than a fucked out, mindless mess.
“No,” you whispered at last. “He hasn’t hurt me. He’s been...nice.”
Your mother hummed, her touch straying from your brother’s head to your hand. She patted it, her skin soft and warm and making the urge to cry rise up your throat once more.
“Well if anyone can soften a hard man, it’s you, my sweet. Your father was a testament to that.”
“I miss him,” you said, voice breaking as the tears finally won out and your gaze blurred with grief.
“So do I.” Your mother’s voice was just as overcome with emotion. “Every day.”
A quiet throat clearing made you both jump. Your gaze flickered over to find Romano, your mother’s bodyguard and one of your father’s oldest friends and confidants, watching you both with a soft look on his weathered face.
He’d almost died the night Andy and his men attacked your family, but despite the gunshot wound to the gut, his recovery had been fast, and his insistence on remaining part of your family’s security team--despite the new head of household--had been unwavering.
Romano was part of your family, and as much as it pained you to see the way Andy had reduced him to more of an errand boy than his once held position as director of security, you were grateful he was still here with you all.
“Apologies,” his gaze found you. “But Mr. Barber requests your presence in the study, young miss.”
You couldn’t help but smile at Romano’s term of endearment for you. He’d been calling you that since you were a rambunctious four-year-old raising hell for him and his security team. “Okay.”
“We should tuck in for the night anyway,” your mother sighed, gently rousing your brother. Her warm gaze flickered up to watch you rise to your feet. “See you in the morning.”
“Goodnight,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek before giving your sleepy, frowning brother a grin and gently squeezing his shoulder.
You turned, pausing as one of the men from Andy’s security team appeared behind Romano, looking impatient.
“Is she coming or what?”
Romano rolled his eyes. “I told you I would get her, Miller, have a little patience.”
“Jesus, you’re too soft, old man,” Miller scoffed. “The boss told you how things work around here now. You’re not in charge anymore. You’re lucky he kept you around at all.”
Romano tensed, straightening to his full, imposing height as he turned to the younger man with a sneer. “I’ve been protecting this family and this estate since before you were born, you little shit. Around here, we have respect and loyalty for those we serve.”
“Whatever, grandpa,” Miller huffed, his annoyed gaze flickering to you. He tilted his head toward the hall. “Let’s go.”
Romano opened his mouth, but you stepped close, giving his arm a gentle pat. “It’s okay. Why don’t you get them settled?” you gestured toward your mother and brother.
Sighing, he nodded before moving past you to your family, waiting patiently as they gathered themselves before heading upstairs to bed.
You went in the opposite direction, following Miller down the dark hallway to the study. You waited as he knocked on the door, listening for Andy’s “come in,” before opening it and ushering you inside. Then Miller was leaving just as quickly as he appeared, closing the study door behind you with a soft click.
Andy sat behind your father’s desk, watching you with a warm gaze as you fidgeted.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he hummed, pushing away from the desk and leaning back in his chair. He patted his thigh, a small smile curling his lips. “Come here, honey.”
You hated the way your body flared to life at his invitation. Tugging the sleeves of your oversized sweater over your fingers you slowly moved closer, hesitating briefly before perching on Andy’s thigh.
His arm circled your back, hand resting on your hip as he tugged you against him and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, where your sweater had fallen down. He could feel you stiffen against him and rubbed a hand up your back. “Relax.”
Andy’s voice was a soft, soothing rumble, and your body obeyed him without your permission. The wave of self-hatred was strong as you felt yourself slowly melt against him.
“There you go,” Andy murmured. His free hand reached for you, sliding against your cheek and guiding your nervous gaze to his. “Dunno why you gotta be so difficult, sweetheart. I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?”
You licked your dry lips before answering, all too aware of the way Andy’s gaze dipped to watch. “Yes.”
“I’ve been good to your family.”
And he had been. Andy was respectful and kind to your mother, tried his best to smooth things over with your brother. He’d stepped in to oversee the family business now and inserted himself as the face of your family’s operation, but he hadn’t touched or squandered away any of your family’s money, assets, or investments.
“Yes,” you relented quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Andy said, brushing his knuckles along your jaw. “Just give me a chance.”
He leaned up as he tugged you closer to him, his dark eyes searching yours before he was kissing you softly.
Your heart was already beating wildly at the taste of him, the gentle play of his lips over yours. You shivered at the soft scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his fingers worked up the hem of your sweater until they were dancing along the band of your leggings and touching bare skin.
With a quiet hum in the back of his throat, Andy deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping its way into your mouth as his hand skimmed up your side before cupping your breast.
You moaned--your body giving into him so easily already--as part of you wondered how his touch could feel gentle and possessive at the same time.
And then you didn’t want to think anymore, you wanted to get lost in the blissful, warm quiet he could provide you, at least for a little while.
Twisting against him, until you were pressed to his front, you cupped Andy’s face between your hands, kissing him back just as eagerly as he tasted you.
When Andy slowly pulled away, you couldn't stifle the little whine of discontent that fell from your lips, and you felt your face warm as he smirked at the sound of it.
It was that small show of arrogance that had you snapping back to yourself, annoyed that he could make you forget yourself so easily and then be a smug asshole about it.
“As much as I enjoyed that, it’s actually not why I called you in here.” Andy’s smile was more genuine as your eyes fell away and you sat back to put some space between you. “I should probably be a little more concerned by how easily you distract me.”
When you didn’t reply, instead crossing your arms over your chest and pointedly looking away, Andy sighed, sitting back against his seat.
“Just wanted to give you an update on the renovations. They should be done early next week, so we can start moving in then.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll admit it’s been fun hiding away in that sweet little attic of yours, but it’ll be nice to have our own space, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” your lie sounded as flat as it felt.
Andy’s eyes narrowed at your tone, at the way you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze or acknowledge him at all, really.
Jaw ticking, he huffed. “I’m almost finished up here. I’ll be up in a little bit. Should give you plenty of time to wind down and then pretend to be asleep to try and avoid my cock, hmm?”
The dig had your hackles rising as you shoved yourself from his lap. “Not like you ever let me do that though, hmm?” you threw back at him.
Andy’s eyes flashed, a mean smirk curling his lips. “Watch it, sweetheart. This was part of our deal, remember? You can try to play the role of cold fish of a wife all you want, but we both know how each night ends, with you begging for me.”
He was right, and you hated it, so you just spun on your heel and stormed from the study, right past a startled Miller, and up the stairs until you were hidden away in your attic suite and left to stew in your misery and anger by yourself.
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A little while later, you were finishing up your skincare routine, body already feeling heavy with exhaustion as you stared at your miserable face in the mirror.
You were so tired.
Deep in your bones, the weariness weighed you down. You felt like you still hadn’t processed the past couple of months, from the unexpected death of your father, to Andy steamrolling your life and claiming you for himself, to suddenly being outed on the mob scene, to pretending to be strong, day after day, for the sake of your family.
You missed your quiet life in California, far away from all of this. Your sweet little beach cottage. The daycare where you worked and played with children all day long. Weekends spent drinking tea and trying your latest Pinterest DIY or tending you your garden. Commiserating with your friends on your latest blind date fail.
Being free and far, far away from all of this.
Being you.
The you that you wanted to be, not the you that you needed to be.
That life seemed like it belonged to someone else now, a stranger.
It was just another brutal loss, another thing to mourn.
Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took a moment to just breathe, hanging your head and trying to quietly soothe yourself. Your gaze fell to the diamonds sparkling on your finger and you grimaced, pushing away from the bathroom counter and flipping off the light before stepping into your bedroom.
He was on you before you could comprehend that you weren’t alone.
You got out one sharp gasp before a large hand encased in a black leather glove was grabbing you by the throat and shoving you into the wall hard. The press of his fingers was harsh against your larynx and you kicked out wildly, your fingers clawing at his arm as you struggled to breathe.
“Shh, shh, shh,” the stranger grinned down at you. He held a finger to his lips, a cruel taunt as you stared up at him, terrified.
He towered over you, his broad shoulders blocking your view. He looked to be in his early forties, his head shaved and his brown eyes sparkling with ill intent.
“Heard you were a pretty thing,” he murmured, biting his bottom lip as he let his gaze rove over your short, satin sleep dress. “Wish I had time to play with you, but the boss was very clear. In and out.”
Black spots were dancing at the edges of your vision as you fought for air, your struggles becoming slow and pathetic as your head throbbed.
Still you were aware enough to watch as the stranger pulled a gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened in fear, a terrified whimper getting lodged in your chest as he held it up, like he was proud to show you his favorite toy.
“Would be easy to put a bullet in that pretty head,” he snickered. “But I dunno, I don’t want to ruin those good looks, sugar. Could always just choke the life out of ya, you’d bruise, sure, but it wouldn’t be as bad as a hole in your head.” He ducked closer, grinning as you flinched. “Tell ya what, I’ll be a gentleman and let you pick.”
You gasped in air greedily as the grip on your throat relented for a few seconds. “Please, don’t!”
He huffed in disappointment, shaking his head. “That’s not what I asked you. It’s okay, I’ll pick for you.” His grip circled your throat harder than before. “I do like choking people, getting a front row seat as the light leaves their eyes. There’s something so intimate about it, you know?”
You felt your body convulse at the lack of air, your fingers clutching his arm now instead of clawing as your body began to sag.
“Mr. DiMarco sends his regards,” the stranger murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Blackness started to consume you, your head pounding in time with the rapid, furious beating of your heart.
And then you heard a wild, animalistic snarl and the stranger grunt in pain as his grip fell away from your throat.
You dropped to the floor, violently coughing and wheezing as your body desperately sucked in oxygen.
The sounds of a struggle filled the room, but it was a long moment before you were cognizant enough to register what was happening.
You lifted your head, your startled gaze landing on Andy as he wrapped the other man in a headlock, curled over him, his teeth bared and his face flushed red with fury.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Andy growled as the other man struggled wildly in his grip.
The stranger threw his elbow back once, twice, gasping for breath as Andy released him with a grunt as he doubled over in pain.
Diving for the gun lying a few feet away, the man turned and started firing recklessly.
Screaming, you curled in on yourself, hand covering your mouth as the gun swung Andy’s way and fired. He jerked, hissing in pain as he cupped his upper arm, his gaze dark and violent as the stranger’s gun clip clicked empty.
“Shit!” the stranger grunted, eyes wide as Andy dove at him, fists flying and landing blow after blow, until it wasn’t so much the face of a stranger beneath his fists but a busted, bloody mess.
Andy’s fists didn’t relent until the other man stopped fighting back, and then he was climbing off of him and dragging the other man up to his knees.
“You think you can come into my home and attack my family?” he snarled, towering behind the intruder and leaning in close.
The other man groaned wordlessly, in a world of pain. He grunted and swayed on his knees, unseeing as blood streamed from his nose and mouth.
It happened so quickly - Andy taking the man’s head in his big hands, twisting it harshly to one side, the sickening crunch of bone filling your ears.
You watched, unmoving, as the stranger's body crumpled to the floor, dead.
As Andy stood over him, broad chest heaving, body still trembling with rage as he caught his breath.
You couldn’t stop staring at the unnatural angle of the intruder’s neck, horror lapping at you before a wave of relief took its place, making you shudder.
Because the danger was gone now.
You were safe.
You were okay.
Because of Andy.
He filled your gaze as if your thoughts conjured him to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands everywhere at once.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he cupped your face in his shaking hands, gaze frantic as it met yours. “Sweetheart? Are you hurt?”
“No,” you managed, your voice a rough croak that made you wince. Your hand fluttered to your throat.
Andy’s touch was gentle as he tilted your chin up, growling quietly at the bruising already starting to show.
The door to your suite burst open, Romano, Miller, and a few others from the security team flooding in with their guns drawn.
“How the fuck did this happen?!” Andy roared, staggering to his feet as he advanced on his team.
Romano ignored him, rushing to your side and gently helping you to your feet. “You okay, sweetie?”
You nodded, still dazed, your head spinning and unable to grasp onto any real thoughts. And then one terrifying thought blossomed to the forefront of your scattered mind. “My mother! My bro--”
“They’re fine,” Roman assured you quickly. “Still asleep. They have no idea what’s going on.”
You sagged against him in relief.
“I want answers,” Andy hissed. “Who would do this? Who--”
“DiMarco,” your soft voice made him go quiet and he spun to stare at you. You swallowed, wincing at the pain of it. “That’s what h-he said.”
You couldn’t look at the corpse lying in the middle of your room.
“He said, ‘Mr. DiMarco sends his regards.’”
“DiMarco,” Andy said darkly, his gaze meeting Romano’s.
“He’s been a thorn in our side for as long as I can remember,” Romano muttered. “Never thought he’d make a move though. He never would have before.”
Andy sneered at the slight dig, stalking closer and shoving Romano away from you before his touch turned gentle as he hugged you to his side.
“Call the day time security team and get them over here now. And start gathering as much intel as you can on DiMarco and his operation, his allies. I want to know everything there is to know about him by morning.” His gaze found the body of the intruder. “And get that piece of shit out of my sight.”
Two of the younger security guys scrambled forward, hooking their arms under the intruder’s and dragging his body from the room.
Miller and Romano lingered.
“I told you something like this would happen,” Romano hissed. “When you dismantled my team. I’ve been watching over this family for years, and this has never happened. Ever.”
“Get the fuck out.” Andy’s voice was quiet but deadly, his eyes shooting daggers at Romano.
Miller was already retreating, like he couldn’t run from the room--and his boss’ wrath--fast enough, but Romano didn’t move a muscle. Instead his gaze flickered to you. He murmured your name.
“It’s okay,” you whispered.
You could feel the tide of emotions bubbling up quickly, your body still buzzing with terror, and you didn’t want him to see you fall apart.
Because you had to be strong, you had to be strong for your family.
“It’s fine,” you whispered. “I just want to go to sleep. Please.”
Romano’s face softened as your voice cracked, then he was glaring at Andy before taking his leave.
Andy didn’t move or say a word until the bedroom door clicked shut and you were finally alone.
“Come on, I want to get a good look at you,” he murmured, his hand falling to your hip as he held you to his side and guided you into the bathroom.
Switching on the light, Andy gently pressed you against the counter, fingers so soft and careful as he tilted your head back and stared at the bruises marring your throat.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s not your fault,” you said, gently batting his hand away so you could straighten.
That’s when you noticed the blood staining his grey sweater, the entire left sleeve.
“Oh my god, you were shot!”
“I’m fine,” Andy assured you. “It just grazed me.”
“Let me see,” you told him, worry straining your voice as you tugged up his sweater without thinking.
Inhaling sharply at the pull of material against his wound, Andy helped you tug the sweater over his head, using it to mop the blood from his skin. “See, it barely hit me, already stopped bleeding.”
“You got shot, because of me,” you quavered, eyes filling as your fingers gingerly traced along the ridges of his bicep.
“Hey.” Andy’s voice was soft, the pads of his finger against your cheek even more so as he tilted your gaze to his. “Nothing that happened tonight was your fault, you hear me?”
Your mind was quick to replay the crushing feel of that man’s hand around your throat, the complete and helpless terror you’d felt as he so effortlessly held you still and choked the life from you, little by little.
You almost died tonight.
You almost died tonight.
You shuddered, trying to stifle your sob with your hand over your mouth.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Andy said, quick to sweep you in his arms and hold you tight.
You buried your face against his bare chest, tears flooding down your cheeks fast and hot as you wept.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you,” Andy hummed, sweeping a hand up your back as he pressed kisses to the crown of your head. “I’m right here, you’re safe, I promise.”
You closed your eyes, allowing Andy’s scent to wash over you, musky, soft, and masculine as you held him just as tightly as he held you.
You stayed that way for a long time, until your tears stopped flowing and your shaking wasn’t so bad anymore.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, gently pulling away from him.
Andy wouldn’t let you get far, his head ducking as his concerned gaze flickered over your face. “No, I’m sorry. For what happened, for...what you witnessed.”
He swallowed, eyes darting away as he shifted, looking as anxious and unsure as you’d ever seen him.
“I promised myself that I wouldn’t let you see that side of me. It’s not...it’s not how I want to be with you. Not you.”
His admission and the fact that he’d thought about this, yet another layer of protection he could offer you without you even knowing it, had something fierce and warm blooming to life in your chest.
Andy’s desire to protect you at all costs--even from himself--reminded you so much of your father and the way he’d protected you your entire life that your eyes were filling all over again.
“Andy.”
His gaze snapped to you, hand cupping your cheek. His thumb swiped away a stray tear as you leaned into his touch without hesitation.
“You’re not afraid of me? After what you saw?” Andy’s voice trembled as he asked, “You don’t think I’m a monster?”
“No,” you whispered. “You saved my life. I thought he was going to kill me,” your voice broke and you shook your head, breath hitching.
Words seemed too hard at the moment, acknowledging and processing all the things you were feeling was an overwhelming task, so instead your hand slid over Andy’s, reinforcing his touch on your cheek, as your eyes met those deep, dark blues that were shining with something you didn’t dare try to identify right now.
Not now. Not so soon. Not after everything.
And yet...your belly swooped at that look--at the realization that came along with it--and what felt like an electrical current zipped up your spine, making you shudder hard.
That feeling, that momentary thrill, felt so much better than the fear that had been suffocating you since the intruder’s hand had circled your throat.
You were pressing close to Andy before you realized what you were doing, your hand sliding around the back of his neck and yanking him close so your lips could crash against his.
Your kiss was desperate--frantic--quiet little mewls and whimpers sounding up from the back of your throat as Andy’s arm locked around your back and his free hand gently cradled your head.
You didn’t object as he swept you up onto the bathroom counter, perching you on the edge of it as he stepped between your legs.
Moaning at the insistent, expert stroke of his tongue against yours, you curled your legs around Andy’s hips, tugging him against you as you pulled free from the onslaught of his mouth to fumble with the front of his jeans.
Andy kissed your warm cheek, the curve of your jaw, and then his lips were skimming down the side of your throat--fleeting and whisper soft like butterfly wings--making you shiver as his hands settled on your bare thighs and rucked up your short sleep dress.
He was already hard and ready for you as your hand sank into the front of his jeans, beneath his boxer briefs, and pulled him free. Andy groaned, forehead dropping to yours as your hand gripped his shaft and gave him a slow, firm stroke.
“Fuck,” he breathed shakily before catching your lips in another kiss, this one much more languid as you touched him. He gave a quiet hiss as your thumb swept over his tip, gathering the pearls of precum there before your hand was sliding down and squeezing around the base of him. “You feel so good,” he rumbled.
His fingers curled into the sides of your panties, and you lifted your hips so he could tug them down. As the scrap of fabric fluttered to the floor, Andy stepped close once more, taking your swollen lips in another round of urgent kisses as he settled in the warm cradle of your thighs.
You gasped against his mouth as his fingers teased along the cut of you, dipping along the wetness there and encouraging another fresh wave of arousal from your trembling body.
“Please,” you begged, stroking him harder and whimpering as he grunted your name in response. “Need to feel you.”
“Whatever you need, sweetheart,” Andy hummed as you angled your hips and lined him up.
He took over then, big hands framing your hips as he pushed into you slowly, his dark gaze lifting from the sight of your pretty, wet cunt swallowing his cock, to your even prettier face twisting in pleasure as he slowly filled you up.
Mesmerized by the picture you painted, so genuinely wanting for him, Andy’s eyes were greedy as they drank in the way your mouth fell open on a breathy moan, the way your eyes fluttered and your head tipped back as he wiggled his hips until he was seated to the hilt in your snug, tight heat.
“You’re so gorgeous, honey,” Andy whispered, dropping his head for a slow, messy kiss. “So perfect.” He groaned as you clenched around him in response, your hands sliding around his sides and pressing against the warm skin of his back as you pulled him as close as he could get.
“Andy,” you pleaded, shifting restlessly beneath him. “Please. Please make me feel good.”
He pulled out of you slowly, drawing it out, feeling your channel quiver around him before he was driving into you with a harsh snap of his hips.
“Yes!” you gasped, biting your bottom lip to stifle a whine as Andy’s grip on your waist tightened and he yanked you to the very edge of the counter before spearing into you again, hard and deep.
From there he was relentless, fucking you in a flurry of husky moans and quiet snarls, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as his cock split you open over and over. The more responsive you were, the harder he went at you, until you were a babbling, quivering mess, chanting his name as you begged him to make you cum.
“Andy, please!” your words morphed into a quiet keen as his thumb circled your clit for the first time. The added stimulation and insistent drive of Andy’s hips had you mindless, your head thrown back as you cried out airy “ah, ah, ahs” to match every forceful surge of his cock.
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Andy gritted, dragging his kiss swollen lips along your bare shoulder, his teeth giving a gentle nip before he was kissing the sensitive hollow behind your ear. “Let me make you feel good.”
You shuddered, clenching around him hard, head falling to the side and a desperate mewl spilling from your lips. Andy kissed and nibbled at that spot behind your ear--driving you wild--until your orgasm surged through you, a white hot rush of toe curling bliss.
“Fuck, that’s it, honey,” Andy grunted, fucking you through your release as your body rippled with pleasure, your cunt squeezing him tight.
As you sagged back against the bathroom mirror, panting hard, Andy was right behind you, his head dropping back as he moaned his climax. A hard, deep stroke had the first wave of his release flooding your core before a few more hard, erratic thrusts had him filling you with his pleasure until he was as spent and sated as you were.
“Fuck,” Andy gasped, sagging close and catching himself on the edge of the counter. His sweaty forehead dropped to your shoulder as he caught his breath.
Enjoying his warmth, everything about him surrounding you and filling you up in this moment, your eyes fluttered as you curled your legs around Andy’s waist, locking your ankles against his ass and urging him closer still.
He hummed wordlessly, lips pressing against your shoulder as your fingers carded through his hair. Andy lifted his gaze to you, his eyes soft and open in a way you had never seen before as his fingers lightly trailed against your cheek.
That look made you smile, made something in your chest flutter and expand, and you needed him again, but in a different way this time.
Andy oofed as you yanked him close and kissed him deeply, your arms twining around his neck and your fingers sinking into his hair. Groaning, he tilted his head, slotting his lips over yours, his tongue rolling into your mouth and teasing along your own as his hands skimmed up your sides and around your back to hold you against him.
You kissed him until you were desperate for oxygen, pulling away for a quick gasp of air before you were lightly pressing your lips to his in a flurry of sweet, soft kisses. Your eyes fluttered open as Andy hummed against your mouth and you pulled away enough to meet that warm, soft gaze of his.
I always want him to look at me like that.
The thought--and how true it felt in your heart--made your belly flutter, and you felt shy all of the sudden, ducking your head and pressing your forehead to Andy’s chest.
Dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, Andy’s hand rubbed up the length of your back, and then he was straightening to gently pull out of you. He smiled at your pout as he reached for a hand towel to clean you both up.
He finished undressing and made quick work of bandaging up his arm before helping you tug your slip over your head and tossing your mixed bundle of clothes in the hamper in the corner of the bathroom.
Soon you were settled in bed together, naked and tired as Andy pulled the blankets up around you both.
You snuggled against his chest, your hand resting over the center of it, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart as Andy’s touch smoothed up and down your bare back in gentle strokes.
“What happened tonight will never happen again,” Andy’s voice was a quiet promise in the dark. “I told you I’d keep you and your family safe, and I meant it.”
You hesitated before replying, “Romano is a good man, Andy. You should reinstate him as head of security and let him run the team.”
Andy’s touch on your back stilled, his hand settling on your hip. “He’s not one of mine.”
“But he’s ours,” you said sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed and staying that way as you listened to Andy’s hum of acknowledgement. “My father used to say that it was good when people feared him but even better when they loved him.”
Andy snorted, his free hand brushing over your head.
You pouted even though he couldn't see you, your hand pressing against his chest. “Think about it, would you die for someone you love?”
“Of course,” Andy murmured without missing a beat, his hand sliding along your back again.
“And would you die for someone you feared?”
He was quiet so long you didn’t think he’d answer. Your mind was hazy with impending sleep when you felt Andy sigh beneath you, felt the soft pads of his fingers tickle your cheek before his hand was resettling on your hip.
“I’ll meet with Romano first thing in the morning to get everything situated,” he murmured.
That pulled you back closer to consciousness and you smiled, eyes still closed, warm cheek pressed to Andy’s bare skin. “Really?”
“Mm hmm,” he confirmed, giving your hip a squeeze. “Sleep now, sweetheart. You’re exhausted.”
“‘Kay,” you sighed, surrendering to said exhaustion. “Goodnight, Andy.”
He smiled at the way your words slurred, his free hand moving to his chest so his fingers could tangle with yours.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Andy whispered, lifting your hand to his mouth and pressing his lips to your knuckles before resettling your joined hands against his chest, over his heart.
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WELP. THERE YOU HAVE IT. THE LATEST CHAPTER OF MY RUIN. WON’T YOU JOIN ME, GOOD HOES?! 😫😫😫
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strawberryspence · 2 months ago
Text
peace is next door
Fluff | Spencer Reid x FEM! Baker! Reader
Summary: Spencer finds peace in his next door neighbor, her cat and her baked goods.
Word Count: 2,3k.
Warnings: a few self doubt, nightmares, sleep deprivation, baked goods/food, one mention of tobias hankel.
Writer’s Note: Hello! This is my entry for the lovely, Emily’s ( @boldlyvoid ) writing challenge. Emily, I hope you love this! Congratulations on 2k, you deserve it. Its honestly a privilege to have had watch your blog grow and be one of your friends along the way. I love you! <333
Prompt: Character A has been sleep deprived forever, the first nightmare-free sleep they get is next to character B for the first time.
Gif is mine! <3
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Baking has always been your way of thanking people around you. You bake cookies, brownies, cakes and pies as a simple thank you for the people who have been kind to you.
You look around your kitchen looking for your gloves as the smell of the chocolate brownies travel around the kitchen. A small ding sets from the egg timer your mom bought you when you were 15 alerts you that the brownies are done.
It has been so long, you had stopped counting how many baked goods you’ve made were for your genius, fbi neighbour, Spencer Reid. It was true that Spencer may not be the most athletic person that has lived in this building but it was always the little things.
Lending you his precious books, the long night talks through the window fire escape, taking care of you when you get sick, learning how to fix a dishwasher through the manual because your dishwasher won’t stop squeaking, the list doesn’t end and every thing is being paid in baked goods and Spencer can’t be more happy.
“Alpine, you need to get down from there. I need to open the oven, its going to be hot.” The black and white cat meows back at you as she climbs down the counter, hopping to the small table in your kitchen.
She meows again, “This is for Spencer. He’s coming home from a case and he’s usually in a bad mood when he comes home. I am hoping this cheers him up.”
Alpine meows again, as if she’s taunting you about cooking and baking for a man who didn’t return the same feeling, “Oh come on, Alpine. I just want to cheer him up.” If it was possible, the cat would’ve rolled her eyes on you.
The smell of the fresh brownies wafts over you as you take it out the oven, its top cracks showing its crunchiness, the cracks glisten with the chocolates melting inside it.
“Well, isn’t that gorgeous, this must have been one of the best brownies I’ve ever made.” You start cutting up the brownies into squares.
Alpine jumps at the counter, nuzzling her soft face into your hand, making you laugh, “How could I forget? Here’s your treat.” You give her a biscuit treat before petting her head, making her tail slowly wag.
A knock pulls you out the scene, Alpine looks at you with her big eyes, “That must be Spencer. I told him he should come by.” Alpine immediately jumps off the counter and struts to the door making you laugh again. The cat has never been friendly to anyone else but you. However, with Spencer she has always been the sweetest.
Peeping through the peephole, Spencer stands with his hair disheveled as always, another hand tightly clutching his satchel and another holding his travel bag.
“Hey. Come in!” Spencer gives you a soft smile and even that lights up his whole face, “How are you?” You ask as both of his bags falls in the floor with a plop.
“The case was rough. Kids were involved.” You hear him sigh as he drags himself to the kitchen table and sitting as Alpine jumps onto his lap. Nodding your head was the best answer, you will never know how hard his job is.
“Some of your brownies will make my night a bit better.” A giggle bubbles from you as you turn back on him with a plate of the brownies, “Well, here you go. I am starting to think you’re only friends with me because of my baking.”
Spencer laughs and suddenly your apartment feels more brighter, “I am friends with you because on November 17, 2018, you baked chocolate chip cookies at 3 in the morning and I can smell it over the hall.” You can only laugh as you marvel at the fact that Spencer can remember the first day you ever meet.
“Thank god, you were hungry enough to knock on my door to ask me for some. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.” You smile at him, making eye contact as Spencer eats his brownies, he smiles at the statement, his eyes following with it.
“Mine too. Derek and Penelope has been itching to meet the woman who’s making me gain weight for the last 3 years.” You smirk at the statement, you’ve heard stories about the team but have never met them, “Wow, when you tell stories about me is it always about the food?”
The kettle squeals, “Coffee? Tea? Warm Milk?” Spencer nods, “Coffee.”
You laugh at his answer, “Spencer, its 12:30 in the morning, drink coffee and you’ll never sleep.” He laughs, but you can hear the way he hesitates. You take two bags of chamomile tea from the box before sinking it to the steaming hot water.
“This is Chamomile.” Pushing over the cup of tea in front him together with the sugar jar and milk, “You’re having nightmares again?”
Spencer hums as answer, as he puts an absurd amount of sugar on his tea, “You okay?” He shrugs, “I’ll be okay. Its just nightmares, its not the worst thing that has happened to me.”
Before you can stop yourself, the words come spilling, “You want to sleep here?” The clink of his spoon falling from his grasp was the perfect answer to you. This was a line you shouldn’t’ve crossed.
“I— I— Nevermind. Pretend I—,” He cuts you off with a nod, making you shift on your sit, “I’ll stay over.” You nod, sipping the hot tea in your hands.
“I only have one bed.” You choke out. This was dumb, you felt dumb. How could you offer that when you don’t even have an extra bed? Spencer looks up from his tea.
“I can go home. Its not a long drive you know.” This makes you both laugh and apparently, gives you the confidence to let the next words tumblr out, “You can sleep with me.” You immediately slap your hand over your mouth.
“I mean, with me. In my bed. Not, like sleep with me sex. Just sleep with me, beside me.” A smile is on Spencer’s face. Its not teasing or smug, just an amused smile at how much your babbling, “Maybe… your nightmares would get better…”
You honestly don’t know where you were going with the whole idea, but the walls are thin and your room was right next to his. It isn’t the best feeling when you wake up hearing your neighbor (who you actually were in love with) trashing and crying around and not being able to do anything.
“Okay.” Spencer hums, bringing the cup back to his lips, “Okay?” You ask him, unsure of how compliant he is to this random idea. He nods again, taking another bite to his second brownie.
You both sit in comfortable silence for a while. Spencer has never felt in peace in quiteness, this moment an exception.
A whole 10 minutes passed by before Spencer starts bubbling with information, “In one review of the current evidence, 10 to 12 cardiovascular patients are quoted as having fallen asleep shortly after consuming chamomile tea. A handful of other studies looking at clinical models also suggest that chamomile tea may help people relax.”
Giggling you put your cup down as he smiles nervously at you, “Is that your way of telling me your ready to go to bed?”
Spencer nods and you swear you’ve never seen him this shy, “Okay. I am going to clean up in here a bit. You know where my bathroom is, you can go wash up.” He nods before picking up his travel bag again and stalking to your bathroom. Alpine meows as she follows him.
After cleaning up, you turn off the few lights open in the kitchen and in your living room before making your way to your bedroom. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t nervous or your hands weren’t turning clammy, but this was worth every try you have.
You find Spencer sitting on the edge of your bed, wearing his pajamas. Alpine by his side as he pets her softly, lulling her to sleep, “Hey, I just need to change and brush my teeth. You can lay down. Alpine usually sleeps with me, she’ll probably snuggle against you.” You give him a soft smile as you remove your apron, a smile that brings him comfort more than anything. Spencer hums as an answer.
After changing and brush your teeth, you find Spencer tucked in your bed with Alpine on the foot of the bed, sleeping peacefully. You climb to the spot next to him before facing him.
“This isn’t too weird right?” Spencer laughs quietly, “No, its not.”
“I hear you. Every night, trashing and crying in your sleep.” You watch his face change into embarrassment to stoic, “I should move places.” He jokes but the air is too serious for you to laugh.
“Let’s try this once and hope it works.” You feel Spencer shuffling, his hands finding its rightful place in your waist, pulling you closer to him, “This okay?” You nod in response, letting his familiar perfume engulf you.
“Good night, Spencer.” Giving him a sweet kiss on his forehead before your head finds home in his chest, bringing you closer to his heart, “Good night, Y/N.”
-
Peace. Peace was hard to come by in sleep. Spencer never knew that it was possible to find peace in his sleep when it has always been plagued by the nightmares he experience in his everyday life.
Today was different, as the sunlight seeps into the window of your bedroom. The light hitting your face making your face softer, something he thought can’t be possible. He has always found the morning light, harsh and taunting, like it was laughing at him for having another sleepless night. But here he was, and there you are, giving everything in his life a different, a sweeter, definition.
Spencer feels your arms tightening around his waist, as your head feels heavy on his chest.
Peace. He’s felt it once, in that moment between life and death before Tobias Hankel revived him and now here, with you in his arms after a full nights sleep. You found beauty in his scars surrounded it with stars and sweet baked goods.
The room was completely quiet with the exception of the sound of cars passing by outside, birds chirping and the fall wind rustling against the window. Spencer looks around him, your eyes were still shut tight, Alpine is in the armchair quietly watching the birds through the window.
“I want this. I want you in my life,” Spencer tangles his hand through your hair, brushing it slowly, “You… you make me feel special and good. All these things that I still don't have the words for yet— good things… things I never thought I deserved to feel.”
He stops, giving the crown of you head a kiss, “I am a genius but with you, I am always lost with words.”
“You deserve everything.” Spencer looks down in surprise, finding you wide eyed smiling at him. Your voice still quiet from the sleep, “I love you, Spencer. You deserve everything good in this world.”
Spencer wasn’t an emotional person, but his eyes fills with tears as he hears each word miraculously sew his heart back together, “Are you crying?” He can hear a hint of amusement and worry in your voice, making him wipe his tears immediately.
“Oh, sweetheart.” You smile, cupping his face in your hand as you wipe the tears in his eyes. Spencer is suddenly aware of how close you were to him, looking at your eyes and to your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” You don’t answer but you give him a smile before closing the gap between you and him. The kiss was slow, soft and just like everything you are, sweet. Spencer holds you in his arms, scared that if he lets go you’ll melt away from him. Your hands were still cupping his face, carefully guiding the kiss. It was everything Spencer thought it would be but at the same time not even in his wildest dreams would he imagined this was possible.
“I love you too.” Spencer pulls away from the kiss to tell you the three little words he’s been holding back for almost three years now.
“I know you do. You love my cookies too much for you to not be in love with me.” Spencer smiles, laughing as he gives your forehead a kiss. Alpine jumps from the chair to your bed, nuzzling in between the two of you.
“Did you sleep well? I didn’t hear you wake up last night.” You smile up at him, your eyes beaming with joy as you pet Alpine and as she nuzzles closer to your touch. Spencer wishes his phone has a camera because he wants to take a picture of this moment, frame it and put it in his desk at work.
“I slept well.” He answers, quietly, enjoying the comfortable feeling. You nod with a smile and Spencer hasn’t always been the best at deciphering emotions but at this moment he can see the relief in your face, “I guess you’ll be sleeping more often with me.”
“Do you want anything in exchange?” He teases, making you roll your eyes, “Take me on a date, you dork.”
“I was planning to ask.” Alpine meows and you both laugh, “Yes, Alpine. You can come, baby.”
His heart steadies as his mind works to find the right word to describe whatever he was feeling. Spencer watches you pet Alpine and talk to her, glancing up at him every other minute and giving his lips a quick peck whenever you want to.
Spencer smiles, his body well rested, his mind in peace and his heart full. Home.
-
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purple-babygirl · 2 months ago
Note
your writing is literally something so personal to me, it's unreal – no other author's really been able to do that 💜 i thank you for all the fics and the work you put into them :) writing isn't exactly the easiest lol
i know you'd do this small request justice tho; now not to trauma dump on you or anything but recently i've been dealing w the worst body image issues (i hope this isn't a triggering topic as i know plenty of us do as well, unfortunately), more so specifically my chest. i barely fill an A cup, and quite frankly just thinking about having a shirt off during you know easily makes me cry.
and lately lots of fics have been emphasizing, or just adding slight comments to the reader's "perky tits" that daddy!bucky loves to look down at through her shirt or something :/ absolutely nothing wrong w it, of course i can ignore it and read over it, but idk eventually it just becomes a lot. omg this is a lot fuck
so maybe it could be just a small hc, drabble, whatever's easiest lol, about daddy!bucky and it's just comfort all around though i am 100% not against any smut whatsoever in fact it is encouraged where he accepts her, reassures her that he'd always be there, that she's just beautiful the way she is. it doesnt have to completely center around that tho, just a small comment on it would suffice <3
no rush on this one <3 again i love ur writing endlessly and i cant wait to read it 💜💜
Pairing: (Daddy)!Bucky Barnes x f!(little)!reader
Word count: 2,725
Warnings: contains ddlg, contains smut (fingering - f receiving), the rest is fluff. 18+ content.
A/N: Nonnie love, this is hands down one of the best asks I've ever received and I think will ever receive on here. You're so so kind and sweet and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you. Also, you can totally trauma dump on me any time, I'm here for you💜 and tbh, i understand:" and you're right, body image is something we all struggle with but at the end of the day, believe me we're all perfect little beings, each in their own way. Thank you so much for sending this in and I hope I didn't disappoint you, love💜💜 i love you lots. Please enjoy xx💜
~~~
all of you
Bucky never said anything, but he knew. He knew her like the back of his hand. Bucky knew what made her happy and what made her sad. He knew her dreams and fantasies. He knew what she liked about herself and what she was insecure about. Bucky knew it all, and he absolutely adored every bit. He loved all of her just the way she was. He was hoping she knew that though.
Although he knew everything there was to know about his girl, Bucky was no relationship expert. He was above a 100 years old and she was his first girlfriend since the 40s. He would be lying to himself if he said he still remembered how to woo or swipe a lady off of her feet.
But Bucky knew how to love. When it came to her, his heart knew how to appreciate, adore and cherish every detail. It was with her that he learned that no torture, even if too much, could be enough for his heart to forget how to love.
She taught him to smile again. She gave him a reason to want to live again. She was his hope, his sunshine, his love and his all.
So Bucky just decided he was going to let his actions speak instead of his words. He made sure she knew he loved every little thing he's ever noticed about her inside and out.
Bucky loves every inch of her; every mark, every mole and every scar he's had the luck of laying his eyes on and discovering.
But like he had his deep insecurities, she had hers and it was only human. Bucky just wished he could have her see herself through his eyes.
He wished he could show her how perfect she was to him, how he adored everything about her and wouldn't trade a thing, not for the world.
Now when she's her big, busy, responsible self, it's easy for her to hide it or brush it off, but it's more noticeable when she's little.
She won't exactly give Bucky an easy time whenever it was time to change or shower or do anything that required her shirt to be taken off and her boobs to be bare before him.
Her big self has let Bucky see her chest plenty of times, biting back anxious tears that always threatened to spill as she tried to relax, focusing on the feel of Bucky's hands on her, caressing, kneading and pinching her soft flesh.
Bucky is always so soft with her, so patient and gentle. He never rushes her and walks through everything at her pace.
He wished she’d stop closing her eyes every time she got naked for him because she was missing the way she had him licking his lips at the mere sight of her. She was missing his dilating pupils as he took her in and his teeth sinking into his lip before he’d lower his mouth on her body.
It was one of those days and she was being hard again.
“Baby doll, we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna take a bath together,” Bucky reasons, trying to seduce her into undressing, knowing how much she likes their grounding bath time.
Oh, she is perfect. Bucky could never get enough of her. She's so perfect that he sometimes finds himself staring at her as she nakedly sleeps beside him and feels like a creep. She's perfect and Bucky desperately needed her to know it.
“Don' look then,” she says, her palm cupping Bucky's cheek to try and make him turn his head the other way so his eyes aren't on her.
“Doll, my baby, Daddy loves every little part of you. You got nothing to be shy about,” Bucky reassures, twisting his head to kiss her palm.
“Daddy,” she whines, still refusing to get out of her his shirt.
Bucky sighs before turning off the water pouring into the filling tub.
She looks regretful, quickly preparing an apology in her head, thinking she ruined bath time for them.
Bucky doesn't give her the chance because his hand is off the tap and on hers, gently tugging as he leads her outside of the bathroom.
“Dada?” She whispers, confused, when Bucky sits down on their bed, positioning her before him between his legs.
“Baby doll, I love you,” Bucky says, his eyes carrying nothing but sincerity and adoration.
Before she can say it back, he continues, “and that means I love everything about you with my whole heart. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and you're mine, doll!”
“All yours, daddy,” she reassures as tears fill her eyes.
Bucky couldn't believe his own words. His mind took a minute to comprehend this truth every time he was reminded of it.
She is his. This perfect, absolutely amazing in every way, kind, sweet girl is his. She wants him. She trusts him. She chooses him. She loves him. And the least Bucky can do is make her feel like the precious beauty she is.
“And I'm yours, baby.” Bucky kisses her hand, “and I understand.”
He tenderly holds her face between his hands and pecks her forehead again and again.
“Remember when I couldn't be shirtless around you at first?” Bucky asks and she nods.
“I was so insecure about my arm. I didn't want you to see it. I didn't want you to see anything that had to do with this part of me.”
“Daddy.” A tear rolls down her face as she cups Bucky's.
“But do you remember what you did the first time you got home early and saw it?” She nods again and Bucky melts when he remembers.
“You smiled so brightly at me and then you acted like nothing was different. You hugged me all the same, kissed me all the same and made me feel loved all the same. You didn’t stare or grimace or even ask questions.” Bucky swallows the lump is his throat when he feels like he's getting emotional because this isn't about him.
“Dada, your arm is beautiful!” She defends, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“It's not beautiful to me, doll.” Bucky gives a faint smile, “but it's okay because none of us has to be perfect. Especially if I have an angel like you, loving me for who I am despite the flaws.”
“I love you, daddy.” She throws her arms around Bucky's neck, hugging him as close to her as she can as she cries on his shoulder. Bucky wraps his arms around her, his lips dropping to the column of her neck and he places the softest kisses there.
“I love you too, doll. I love you and anything that has to do with you.” Bucky kisses her ear, “and I know there might be parts of you that are not your favourite but they're you and I love them. I love you. You never have to hide away from me, baby. I love all of you just the way you are.”
She slowly backs out of the hug, wipes hurriedly at her tears before grabbing Bucky's hands and bravely placing them on the hem of her shirt.
Bucky smiles softly, “you ready to take a bath with daddy, doll?”
She nods with a shy smile, her heart pounding between her ribs as she tries to remain brave. It's Bucky. Bucky loves her. He loves her the way she is.
He tenderly slips the shirt off her arms and head before his hands find her waist, waiting for her nod to take off her underwear as well.
When she's fully bare in front of him, Bucky just stares. She's so so beautiful. She looks like a goddess to him; an exquisite being out of a fairytale. His very own Venus. He never thought anyone could be this gorgeous.
Bucky only snaps back to the present when she starts fidgeting and shifting on her feet in slight discomfort.
“You're beautiful, baby doll.” He holds her hand and brings her closer to him again. He helps her up on his lap with her legs open and wrapped around his waist.
Her face is burning up at how exposed she feels and then Bucky's palms are caressing her back, spreading chills throughout her.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, his lips finding her forehead.
Bucky kisses her eyes, feeling the flutter of the lids in surprise, “just perfect from head to toe.”
“Those beautiful eyes where I see your love for me; where I see hope and hold on to it because I got you.”
She blushes, keeping her eyes shut as she feels Bucky's lips peck her nose, “you have no idea how much I love feeling this nose poke me when you hide your face from the sun in my chest every morning. Or when you hug me and bury your face in my neck. Doll, you make me feel whole doing the littlest things.”
“And your beautiful lips. Oh, these are perfect.” He kisses her again, his teeth gently biting on her lower lip. “The prettiest sounds come out of them,” peck, “it's the best thing in the world when I hear them calling for me,” peck, “there's not a second that I don't wanna kiss these lips, baby” peck, “and when they're stretched around my cock? Oh, doll.” peck.
“Bucky.” She opens her eyes, tears evident in them again and in an instant, Bucky's lips are devouring hers.
She’s her and she’s comfortably naked in his hold as her big self. She feels brave enough and it’s her.
Bucky’s words are so loving, so soft and so kind and she feels the warmth of them engulfing her in a sweet hug.
“Bucky,” she breathes, hiding her face in Bucky's shoulder, her nose poking his neck.
He chuckles, kissing the side of her head, “look at me, baby.” Bucky asks and she obeys, her whole body feeling on fire, “please.”
“Don't hide from me, doll. I’m in love and I'm not done admiring you yet,” Bucky says, smiling adoringly as he steals yet another kiss from her welcoming mouth.
Her face is so hot she can feel the warmth spreading to her neck and chest as she lets Bucky’s voice calm her as he continues to worship her body.
“Where were we?” He pecks her lips one last time before his lips are sliding over her skin down to her neck, “your neck, right.”
“This beautiful neck that proudly carries my marks all over,” Bucky says hotly, his teeth teasing her flesh, “so soft, so warm.” Bucky's nose brushes up her throat before his lips go down the same trail, sending shivers up her back where his hands are still caressing and feeling
Bucky remembers all the times she's hugged him, let him nuzzle her neck and take in the beautiful scent his heart knew as hers. He silently moves to her collarbones, nibbling and kissing until he reaches her breasts.
Bucky lets his flesh hand come to the front, the other still on her back, holding her. His eyes are on hers, looking for signs of rejection as he slides it up her tummy.
She doesn't stop him and Bucky's hand reaches one of her boobs and he can't help but close his palm over the soft tit, giving a tiny squeeze. Her breath hitches as Bucky whispers a “perfect” to himself.
Her head falls back a little as Bucky's hand moves to her other breast, his touch leaving her nipples hard and her body shivering.
“Your boobs are the best, doll. They're so soft and beautiful, fit just right in my hands. I love playing with them,” Bucky says, tenderly rolling a nipple between his fingers, eliciting a sweet moan from her.
“I love putting my mouth on them.” Bucky's lips are instantly on her other nipple, wrapping around the nub and sucking, the tip of his tongue circling over it.
“Bucky, please,” she breathes, not even sure what she's begging for but Bucky understands. He always understands.
“You want me to move to your favourite part, baby doll?” He teased, lightly biting down, lips grazing her sensitive nipple, making her arch her back to press her breast more to his mouth.
She nods, shyly adding a low “please”.
Bucky puts his lips on hers and she’s so lost in the dizzying kiss to notice him standing up and taking her back to the bathroom.
She opens her eyes again when she hears the water continue to fill up the tub and she can’t help but pant, “I love you.”
“I love you even more, doll.” Bucky kisses her again, big hands caressing the curve of her butt and squeezing.
When the tub is filled, Bucky gently gets her in and she sighs at the warmth she sinks into, the water smelling of her favourite body wash.
Bucky gets in and relaxes behind her, his chest to her back and his arms around her waist.
He kisses her ear, neck and shoulder as his fingers trail down her body and she automatically parts her legs.
Bucky’s fingers are sort of warm when they slip inside her but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of her tight cunt.
“I have to admit, you’re not the only one who favours this pussy, doll. It’s definitely my favourite part too,” Bucky smirks on her neck, his lips teasing as his fingers leisurely slide in and out of her.
His vibranium hand plays with her boobs, the sensation making her slightly shake in his hold.
She’s floating. Everything feels too good and she feels so loved; so accepted and so wanted.
Bucky finds her beautiful and attractive. Bucky craves her.
“This amazing pussy that is always needy no matter how many times I give her my cock. Always so wet and so warm for me,” Bucky moans, biting down on her shoulder and her back curves the littlest bit as she tries to get his fingers to move faster.
“So tight I don’t even know how you take me, baby.” Bucky’s thumb rubs her clit just as slowly and she’s so desperate for a release, but also not sure if she wants all the pleasure Bucky’s giving her to end.
“But you do, you take this cock like a champ. Every. Single. Time.” Bucky groans, softly humping her ass, his hard cock touching her behind making her even wetter on his fingers.
“Please, Bucky. I want it,” she mewls, frustrated that he won’t pump his fingers faster.
“What is it you want, doll?”
“Y-your cock,” she whispers and Bucky is kind enough to not make her say it again louder.
Bucky slowly pulls his fingers out of her, rubbing the head of his cock on her opening before pushing in.
“All yours, doll,” he breaths, fully sinking into her.
It was one bath but it was all she needed. That day has opened her eyes to things Bucky did that she unawarely took for granted, barely noticing and if she noticed them she’d deem them coincidences.
She no longer missed out on how Bucky checks her out when she’s out of the shower in nothing but a towel. She no longer missed out on the way Bucky admired her on date night because the dresses looked so good on her he almost cancelled their every date.
On another hand, Bucky loved her more freely now. He got to be more open about showing her physical affection any time of the day. Bucky always wanted to be close. He always wanted a hand on one or both of her boobs. The man was obsessed. They’re spooning? Bucky has a hand on her boobs. Watching a movie? Bucky has a hand under her shirt touching her boobs. Making love? He’s. Touching. Her. Boobs.
Bucky just loved her; all of her, so much and he’d vowed to make sure she knew that until his last day on earth.
~~
Taglist:
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@pretty-pop-princess-hs
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@bratty-bug
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anubvs · 3 months ago
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AirMail Cocktails
[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ]
Summary: You work at a restaurant frequented by mafia members, so why have you never met the boss until now?
Word Count: 1.6k
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x (Fem)Reader AU
masterlist | requests: closed
You worked at quite an esteemed restaurant, you were the hostess during the day and ran the bar sometimes at night. It was a restaurant for the 1%, meaning only high rollers, politicians, and the local mob attended. That was part of the reason you took the job, not because of the risk but the risk allowed for a higher pay. And you couldn’t complain about the tips, being one of the best (and youngest) bartenders, you got tipped a lot and quite well. At only 21, you couldn’t complain. It paid the bills and gave you a bit of a cushion to be able to treat yourself every now and then.
You rarely got called in, being that you worked long days and liked having your days off. So when Lauren, your boss, called you when you had just sat down with a TV dinner to come in because you were requested by some of the mob men that were regular tippers, you knew you had to.
You did your usual bartender hairstyle of a sleek long ponytail, put on your black button up and black slacks that made your ass look great.
As soon as you pulled into the employee lot in back, Lauren came out and gave you a hug. “Thank you so so so much for coming in on short notice.”
“One of the guys requested me?”
“Not the guys, they came in with the big boss today, requested the entire building tonight, and you.”
“Something big?”
“I don’t know but please, just do what you do and make them happy? I’ll pay you double for this overtime and I’ll give you this whole week off after.”
You just smiled and chuckled a bit at the back door. “Like I would ever leave you hanging on a night like this. I’m taking you up on that week off though!”
As you walk in you notice your usual crew, the big buff guy-Steve-who you had previously assumed was the boss, a smaller guy always with a gun-Clint-who looked too small to actually be in a mob, then of course another large buff guy with longer blonde hair who is constantly drinking, you never really learned his name.
Then you saw her.
She was beautiful. Sparkling green eyes and soft waves of red hair. Probably the girlfriend of the boss, best to treat her well so she will give the big man a good word. So you walk up to the table and get everyone’s drink order considering they were the only ones in the entire building.
“And for you Miss..?”
She looked up at you, dangerously, and gave you a sly grin. “What do you think I’d like, sweetheart?”
The room felt eerily quiet, like she was challenging you to get it wrong. So you tried your best.
“Well, you look like a vodka and wine kind of drinker but I think you’ll like our AirMail cocktail. It’s a dark rum cocktail, with lime, a bit of honey and sparkling water.”
All the crew looked at her with baited eyes and waited for her response.
She seemed to eye you up and down, as if she was hoping you would be afraid of her. “If you think I’ll like it then let’s do that.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
You didn’t notice the way she watched you walk back to the bar, or the way she kept her eyes on you the entire time you made the drinks.
You did wonder however when the actual Big Boss would come in. They did say he was here right? Sneaking only a single glance over you noticed the woman talking and all the men almost seemed scared of her. Then Steve left, you assume to go get the big boss. Good. You could just place the drinks down and only come back when he would ask.
Carefully placing all the drinks on the tray, grabbing the blow torch for added flare, you rolled the drink cart back to the table. You passed the 2 drinks to the other men on the table and put Steve’s drink where he was sitting before. Then you got her drink order. You did your usual bar tricks, the shaker behind the head, the long pour, then for the final touch you ran a lime around the rim of the glass and set the drink on fire. Placing the still flaming drink in front of the woman, she looked at you curiously but with a quirked eyebrow.
You looked back with a nervous smile. “Blow it out and try it.”
So she did. She blew out the flame and took a sip, not once looking away from you.
She swirled it around a bit before swallowing, making the time in silence more tense.
“This might be my new favorite drink. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“We’re all set here, sweetheart.”
You walk back to the bar away from the table when you notice Steve coming back in with another man in his grasp, one you recognize as the sleazy regulars you get sometimes that Lauren usually has to kick out when he gets too friendly with you and your coworkers.
Lauren is a sweet woman in her late 40’s and became somewhat of a mother figure to you and makes sure all the girls running the bar feel safe.
He looked you up and down a bit too friendly coming in, and he was rambling about a debt he was ‘absolutely’ going to pay. “Hey-hey little cutie, you wanna get me a stiff one?”
“No.”
The woman’s voice was deep and demanding, and she had instantly become more intimidating than before. You were missing something.
“No, she does not serve drinks to scum in this place and you don’t deserve a drink when you owe me a lot.”
“Aye-hey l-look, boss. I said I’d have it for you soon, I just need a little more time.”
That’s when it hit you. She was the boss. The big boss everyone was scared of was this gorgeous redhead in front of you, looking at this sleaze like she knew everything that came out of his mouth was a lie.
“Sweetheart, does this man bother you?”
You try to shake your head, not wanting to make a bigger deal.
“You need to be honest with me, you don’t need to worry. Now tell me the truth.”
At this point you feel so small with her now standing next to you, hand on your shoulder like an overbearing aunt, so you nodded yes, not quite trusting your voice.
“He does bother you, hm. Now speak up, sweetheart, I’m here to protect you. Plus anything he’s done I already know, so just tell me.”
Well that’s the nail in your coffin. If she’s a mob boss of course she knows everything that happens in a mob frequented bar. “We’ve had to kick him out a few times for making the other girls uncomfortable.”
She smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart. Be a doll and go ahead and clean up the drinks for tonight, I think we’re done here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“None of that ‘ma’am’ stuff. When I’m here, you can call me Natasha.”
You immediately begin placing all the glasses, half full and full back onto your cart and the water glasses as well before wheeling it back to the dishwasher, ignoring the sound of the beating that man was now getting. That’s when you noticed the three 100 dollar bills in your back pocket.
That was way more than your usual tips and you don’t remember who or when it got in there. The only person who got close to your backside was Lauren and Natasha.
The beautiful redhead had a name. Natasha. The woman you now knew was the big boss of the mob you saw almost every night. All you could hope was that you wouldn’t have to wait too long to see her again.
You finished cleaning your bar cart and wiping it all down to go put back, noticing the noise had stopped. When you got out to the front again you noticed Natasha leaning against the bar, running her fingers against her knuckles. “Thank you for coming in tonight, I know it was your day off. I hope my tip makes up for your time.”
“It was more than enough, too much for me to accept really. H-how did you know-?”
“Sweet girl, this is my family’s restaurant. I know everyone’s schedule. I also know you are one of the hardest workers here and one of the most requested. I had to see for myself. I’m impressed, and I like what I see.”
“Thank you miss-”
“No ‘miss’. Just Natasha. I’ll be around more often, I’ve been away for a year on business, so I hope to see you more. I’ll talk to Lauren about getting your schedule changed so you will be moved to be my personal bartender when we have meetings. Keeping your usual schedule of course with a bit higher pay.”
“That’s more than necessary Natasha, I can work with my pay just fine.”
“Absolutely not. You do exceptional work here, you deserve to be paid for it.”
You just keep your eyes trained on your work, putting away the items from the cart. “Thank you.”
“Have a good night, sweetheart.”
“You too.”
She walked away with a little swagger in her step and you gathered your personal belongings and headed back to your car, where Lauren was waiting for you. “Whatever you did, she loved it. You have the next week off as promised so, I figured I’d tell you thank you now.”
“Hold off on my week vacation,” you say, getting into your car, “I’ll take it later.”
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fantasybangtan · 11 months ago
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something to hold on to (myg)
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❦ word count. 17.7k ❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action ❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing ❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles.... worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.  ❦ a/n. merry christmas everyone!! this fic is a collaboration with the wonderful @underthejoon​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @suga-kookiemonster​ @junghelioseok​ @bendthekneetobangtan​ @lamourche​ and @hobidreams​. it’s late, lame and cheesy (and probably under-edited) but I like it that way. I hope you’re all having a fantastic holiday, wherever you may be <3 
.
.
.
Now
“...Can we talk?”
For the first time since blustering in through the front door, Yoongi actually stops to spare you a glance.
You’re standing in the entryway in a pair of high waisted jeans and a peach coloured blouse, hands clasped behind your back and a nervous expression on your face. If he notices your outfit is new, he doesn’t pass comment on it. He doesn’t mention the fact that you’re wearing makeup today either, nor that you seem to have taken a little more time with your hair than usual. Not that you’d expected him to. Your employer isn’t well known for giving compliments, much less understanding when a woman is trying to impress him. Yoongi probably wouldn’t recognise flirting if it hit him in the face with a brick. 
His face is impassive as ever when he drops his keys into the bowl with a shrug. “Sure. There’s actually something I wanted to discuss with you too.”
You nod, fiddling anxiously with his hands as he slips off the snow-smattered trench coat to reveal the suit jacket beneath. He looks tired this evening; more so than usual if the dark bags under his eyes are anything to go by. Even on his days off Yoongi works like a tank, often letting himself get so wrapped up in getting everything done he forgets to eat meals. It’s a coping strategy, of course - one that always tends to get a little out of hand when this time of year rolls around. 
Yoongi turns back to you, loosening the knot of his tie with a ringed finger. He raises his eyebrows.
“Kitchen?” 
You follow him through into the heart of the penthouse: a masterpiece of white granite and gold strip lights. The room is utterly spotless save for the mug of freshly-brewed tea that sits waiting on the island, steam spiralling upwards towards the vaulted ceiling. 
“Here,” you say, nudging it towards him. It’s a comfortable ritual between you at this point. Yoongi needs a hit of caffeine if he’s going to make it to dinner without taking his work stress out on whoever’s unfortunate enough to be in the room with him, but following a series of chest pains a few months ago, his doctor put a strict ban on drinking coffee past 7pm. Replacing the habit with a cup of white tea in the evening was your compromise. 
Yoongi takes it with a small nod of gratitude, lowering himself onto the bar stool. His eyes flutter closed for a moment when he takes a sip, and your chest feels warm inside when the tension visibly starts to drain from his shoulders. The man is always so tightly wound. It’s really no wonder he suffers from back pain, what with all the stress he carries around with him. You’ve been trying to convince him to see an osteopath, but Yoongi insists there’s only so much ‘voodoo medicine’ he can bring himself to splash out on per month, and the December quota was already filled by the VapoRub you made him buy for his blocked sinuses. 
He places the mug down with a quiet sigh. 
“How was she today?”
You snap out of your reverie, meeting his expectant gaze. 
“She was wonderful,” you say honestly. “Coach said he’s really proud of how hard she’s been practicing. Her toe double toe loop has come on leaps and bounds these past few weeks.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrows questioningly.
“The jumpy spinny thing,” you clarify.
“Ahh. So that’s what it’s called.”
A fond smile tugs at your lips. Though Yoongi never misses an opportunity to support his daughter on the ice, the ins-and-outs of the sport are often lost on him. Surprisingly, he’s far more adept at the hair and costume side of things than he is at giving his little girl feedback on her actual performances. Ever since the day her first ever coach had pulled him aside to tell him Dee had ‘a god given gift’ that needed to be nurtured, he’s much preferred to leave such things to the professionals. 
“So.” Yoongi laces his fingers atop the table. Though you remain standing, you can’t help but feel that you’ve entered in on one of his business meetings. He looks you up and down. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”
“Oh -” All at once the nerves return full-force, fluttering away in your stomach like a flock of migrating birds. You instinctively drop your gaze to the floor when you feel your neck heating up. “Y-you can start.”
Unsurprisingly, Yoongi doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid at your odd behaviour, and you wonder how on earth Mina thought you could do this. You wonder how you -believed- her. Holding a conversation with your employer without taking offense to his social tactlessness was hard enough, especially before you understood Yoongi’s deadpan honesty is something he genuinely doesn’t know how to reign in. But admitting you have feelings for him? 
That was a whole other kettle of fish.
“I got a call from Dee’s grandmother today,” he says, drawing your attention back to him once again.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Her grandpa’s been taken into hospital with a shattered hip.”
Your eyes go wide. “Oh my god, is he alright?!”
Yoongi waves off your concern, cringing slightly at the shrillness of your tone. “He’s totally fine. He underwent surgery last night and he’s stable,” he eyes you across the island. “...It does mean they won’t be able to have Dee for the run-up to Christmas though.”
As your panic ebbs, you think you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath Yoongi’s default unmoved expression. He’s not only tired, you realise, but exhausted, worn thin by the constant pressure he keeps himself under. It takes everything in you not to close the space between you and wrap your arms around him. You know he’ll only burn himself out if he carries on like this, and the thought makes your heart ache. 
“I know it’s a big ask,” he continues with a weary exhale, scrubbing a hand down his face, “but it’s too late to cancel on this work trip. Flights to Berlin are fully booked up until late January, and the company we’re doing business with has made it abundantly clear they plan to proceed with or without our input. I’d pay you overtime of course. Whatever works best for you. I just need someone to sit here for a few days and make sure my daughter doesn’t burn the apartment down while I’m gone.”
“Yoongi,” you say quietly, shushing him with a gentle hand atop his wrist. He stares down at the point of contact, and you hope to god he can’t hear the way your pulse is going crazy. “You know I’d be happy to do it.”
Tentatively, he meets your eyes. “Are you sure? Your family -”
“Can manage a few more days without me. Looking after Dee is never a burden. She’s…” you cut yourself off, unable to hold his gaze. “She’s the best thing in my life.”
It’s not a lie. But perhaps it’s only a half-truth. The other best thing is sitting right opposite you, after all. 
Yoongi has never been the type to smile much. He’s stoic and blunt, and doesn’t know when to loosen up when the time calls for it - but he never says anything he doesn’t mean. That’s why it makes your heart feel so full when he says a soft, “Thank you, Y/N. You’re really helping me out here.”
You extract your fingers from his wrist, suddenly too shy to maintain the proximity between you. 
“Don’t mention it,” you cough.
Completely oblivious, Yoongi picks up his mug again. “You wanted to talk to me about something too?”
“Oh, uh… well. I was just -” You scramble for the right words, your mind drawing a complete blank beneath the weight of his gaze. 
It wasn’t like you’d come unprepared. You’d planned this whole thing out with Mina over the weekend, even going so far as to roleplay the possible outcomes of your confession (a necessity when it comes to Yoongi, because the man has absolutely zero concept of letting someone down gently). You’d practiced exactly what you wanted to say several times over in the car before heading over to pick up Dee, and all the whole way back to the penthouse you were convinced you had it down pat. 
Right up until Yoongi walked through the door, that is.
With the air stolen from your lungs just looking at him, your confidence crumbles, and the fact that he’s clearly had a shit day doesn’t help any. The harder you will yourself to form a coherent sentence, the more your tongue refuses to do so. 
“I-It’s not important,” you manage eventually.
Yoongi quirks a sceptical eyebrow at you. “Are you sure?”
You pause, then jerk your chin in a nod. 
“I’m sure.”
Yoongi doesn’t push it. 
“Okay then.” He finishes off the last dregs of his tea and rises to a stand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to -”
“I know I don’t.” He crosses over to the clothing hooks and grabs your jacket, holding it out to you. “Put this on. I need to check in on Dee first.”
Dazedly, there’s little else you can do but follow his instructions. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for Yoongi to see you through the parking lot outside his place, especially during the winter months when it’s dark out, but the gesture still never fails to make you giddy.
Next time, you say to yourself firmly when he returns, holding open the front door for you to slip out first. Next time, I’ll tell him.
.
Last Year
You slide your feet into your heeled boots, wincing at the way your toes pinch together inside. 
It’s a Saturday evening - one you’d normally spend watching curled up on the couch with a takeaway in your lap or running yourself a nice hot bath, had Mina not spent the better half of the week trying to convince you to go on a date with the IT guy from her office - and between running slightly late and the shot of Dutch courage you definitely shouldn’t have taken ten minutes ago, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself up in knots. 
“You need to get out more,” your friend insists. “It’s been literal years since you last had fun.”
You open your mouth to correct her but she fixes you with a warning glare before you can say anything. 
“Fun in the form of Hula Fit and pottery class don’t count, Y/N. And you should probably save the conversation about your weird hobbies until at least the third date. Preferably after sex too, or your chances of getting any will be slim to none.”
You sink down in your chair, scowling at her over the top of your ice cream cup. 
“I still have fun,” you mutter. “I just have a lot on my plate right now. This new job is taking up a lot of my time, and I’m really not interested in getting fired before the trial period is up.”
“Y/N, you pick a rich couple’s kid up from skate club five times a week, make her pasta and watch cartoons until bedtime,” Mina snorts. “What the hell could go wrong?”
“First of all Mr Min is a single father,” you say, pointing your plastic spoon at her accusingly, “and second of all, you haven’t met the guy. If you had, you’d understand why I’m so on edge.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s freaking terrifying, Mi!” You throw your hands up in the air to emphasise your point. “He barely spoke in my interview, just sat there giving me the dead eyes while his assistant asked all the questions! And he did exactly the same thing the first time I met his daughter. Just stood in the corner of the living room and watched, like he was assessing my ability to play with her or something.” 
“Well he must have liked what he saw, right? You got the job.”
“Barely. Apparently when he called the agency to let them know I was hired, he made a point of saying it was only because the other girl he’d been speaking with came down with pneumonia and he needed someone ASAP.” You pout sullenly, stabbing at your ice cream. “And since then he’s taken every opportunity to point out when I’m doing something wrong.”
“Maybe you’re just taking it too personally? That’s his little girl after all. He probably just wants to make sure she’s in safe hands.”
“I guess… I just wish he wasn’t so blunt about it,” you sigh. “Mostly I just feel sorry for Dee. I don’t get the chance to see them interact often because he usually gets home after her bedtime, but he doesn’t strike me like the type of dad who’s particularly involved, you know? She must only see him a couple of days a week.” You take another spoonful of ice cream, your gaze turning contemplative. “She must have one hell of a mother, wherever she is. I can’t think of any other way she could’ve turned out to be such a good egg, given that her father’s so emotionally constipated.”
“Okay, that’s it.” Mina lifts a hand to stop you from going on. “You think way too much about other people’s problems, you know that? It’s depressing. You need to stop getting stressed about the things you can’t change, and start focussing on the stuff you can.”
“Such as?”
“Such as your non-existent dating life.” She pulls her phone out and starts typing. “I’m sending you Jungkook’s number, and you will text him this week. Understood?”
Your phone vibrates in your back pocket.
“Mina -”
“Nope.” She holds up a finger. “I’m not backing down this time. Not until you agree to put yourself first for once.”
“...Fine,” you sigh eventually, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “I’ll text him. But I’m not promising anything more, okay?”
Though it physically pains you to admit it, Mina was right to an extent. You haven’t so much as given a guy your number in the past year, let alone one as hot as in the picture she’d showed you. Zipping up the tiny black skirt you’d borrowed from her closet, you realise with a sense of looming dread that the odds of making a fool of yourself tonight are decidedly not in your favour.
“Jungkook is a gentleman,” you recall her telling you, sipping daintily at her bubble tea. “He definitely doesn’t put out on the first date. Buuut -” she’d lifted a finger before you could chime in. “that does not mean you get the green light to wear your granny panties.”
“I don’t see why not. They’re comfortable and non-restrictive.”
“A girl should always wear her best lingerie when it counts, Y/N.”
“Says who?”
“Oscar de La Renta.”
“Ha, right. And what would he know about women’s underwear?”
She fixes you with a deadpan look. “Are you literally kidding me right now.”
“Mina, if Jungkook’s not going to see it then what’s even the point?” you mumble through a mouthful of ice cream, pointing the spoon at her to emphasise your point. “I’m not just gonna slice myself in half for nothing.”
If it were possible, you’re fairly certain Mina’s eyes roll all the way back into the back of her skull.
“It’s not for him, you loser, it’s for you. Sexy underwear is a confidence booster!” 
“It’s also expensive and a pain in the ass to move around in. Quite literally.” You tilt your plastic cup in an effort to dig out the last of the chocolate chips, but Mina reaches across to pluck the spoon from your fingers. “Wha-? Hey!”
“If you think I’m letting you pull a Bridget Jones on your first date in twelve months, you are sorely mistaken,” she says resolutely, ignoring your sullen expression. She raises a hand to flag down the server, muttering under her breath, “Clearly we have more work to do than I anticipated.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking you to Silky Fit, and we’re not leaving until you’ve picked something out,” she clarifies, pulling her purse out when the waiter came over with the bill. 
After sparing you a second glance, her expression softens somewhat. She tilts her head and sighs fondly at you, the same way someone might sigh at a helpless child, or a puppy covered from head to toe in mud after playing in the garden. 
“You have ice cream on your chin, babe,” she says, tossing a balled up napkin your way.
And thus, here you are a week later, teetering around your apartment in an outfit that’s two sizes smaller than anything you’d usually opt to wear, the string of your new thong pulling uncomfortably tight between your ass cheeks. 
Admittedly, glancing at yourself in the mirror before slipping your blouse on had left you feeling pleasantly flushed. Even despite the minor physical discomfort, Mina hadn’t been lying about the confidence boost. Your body looked good. The colour of the set you’d picked out provided a pretty contrast against your skin, and the bra had just the right amount of upward push to make your breasts look full and perky in their cups. Though ‘sexy’ was never typically a word you’d thought to associate with yourself, turning from side to side in the mirror almost had you reconsidering. 
Makeup done and hair styled into a loose updo, you snap a quick picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling surprisingly content with the end result.
Y/N: [image.png]
Y/N: all good ???
Despite being at a formal dinner with her boss and some company associates, it takes less than a minute for your friend to respond. You snort when an image of her disgruntled face comes through, clearly shot from beneath the restaurant table. 
Mina: stop trying to sext me ?? I don’t have time for this right now
Y/N: desperate times. need validation :(
Mina: you look so good I could eat you
Mina: ...are you wearing them?👀
You smile at your phone. Feeling emboldened by her praise, you pull up your camera again, this time shooting a quick video in which you turn slowly so she could see the full effect of your outfit. At the very end you tug your blouse to the side a little, flashing just the top of your lace bra with a comically over-exaggerated wink. 
Y/N: video.mp4 🤫
Y/N: enjoy your night baby x
Your taxi calls shortly afterwards to let you know they’re downstairs. 
.
Despite how busy the restaurant is tonight, it isn’t hard to spot your date. 
Jungkook is big. Far bigger than you’d imagined the stereotypical nerdy tech guy to be. He practically dwarfs you when he stands up to shake your hand, and you feel positively giddy when he rounds the table to pull your chair out for you. He even has the presence of mind to catch you when you inevitably stumbled over your heels on the way down, a gentle hand on your elbow stopping you from face planting in front of the entire establishment. 
“Careful there,” he murmurs, the amused smile on his face causing your neck to prickle with welcome heat. “You almost fell for me.”
When you let out a loud snort in response, clapping a hand over your mouth as a second too late to catch the unattractive sound, Jungkook doesn’t even bat an eyelid - just proceeds to tuck your chair in behind you and call the waiter over to take your drinks orders. You can’t help but wonder if Mina warned him about you beforehand. 
All in all, the date gets off to a good start. You’re relieved to learn that Jungkook is smooth enough for the both of you, seamlessly filling any lulls in the conversation before things have a chance to turn awkward. What’s more, he seems genuinely interested in learning more about you, listening attentively when you explain how you’re currently studying part time for your masters in education whilst nannying on the side. You flush with warmth when he praises your ambition. 
“It must be hard, juggling work with your studies,” he remarks. “It’s awesome that you’re so committed.”
“It’s not that impressive really,” you say, though your whole body is practically aglow from all the compliments. “Truth be known, the agency I work with deals primarily with parents from wealthy areas of the city, so most of us get paid a bit more than your average sitter would. It almost feels like cheating, really.”
“Oh?” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, raising his wine glass to his lips. “Any celebrities on your contact list so far?”
“Sadly not. I’m only two weeks into my first job so far, and my current employer flies a little lower under the radar than most rich people.”
“A businessman then,” Jungkook nods.
“Precisely. He used to run a tech company, which I think is how he made the majority of his wealth. Nowadays he just does marketing stuff though.”
“A tech company, huh?” Jungkook presses. “Would I have heard of him?” 
To your alarm, he almost spits out his wine when the name Min Yoongi comes out your mouth.  
“Min? As in Min Enterprises?!” he sputters. 
You’re quick to fill him a glass of water, which he accepts gratefully. “That’s the one. You know him?”
“Sure I do,” he says between gulps. “We use literally all of his anti-virus software at work. The guy’s a genius.”
You raise your eyebrows curiously. “Really? The woman from my agency told me his tech company closed years ago. I don’t know much about this stuff, but I would have thought any software they produced would be a little outdated by now...”
Jungkook snorts in amusement. “Closed down is one way of putting it.”
“What do you mean?”
“His programme was good. So good that none of the other tech giants compete with it,” Jungkook explains once his eyes have stopped watering. “Come 2010, Microsoft bit the bullet and bought him out for around fifteen million. They’ve been developing and expanding on his work ever since.”
“Fifteen million?” Your eyebrows shot up towards your hairline. “Christ! No wonder his apartment looks like the Louvre.” 
“I bet it does,” Jungkook laughs. “I’d kill to see what your Christmas bonus looks like.”
It certainly explains a lot, you think to yourself. Particularly Yoongi’s attitude. You’ve seen The Social Network, after all, as painstakingly boring as it may have been. Those matrix-minded, Zuckerberg type kids always grow up to be emotionally stunted. It’s like a trade-off they make with God for getting to be smarter than ninety-nine per cent of the human population. 
When the waiter comes back to whisk away your starter plates, you momentarily excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to check your teeth for wayward broccoli. After giving yourself the all clear, you fix your lipstick and pull your phone out to let Mina know everything’s going well. 
You’re surprised to discover you already have three new messages from her.
Mina: helloooooo ??
Mina: man. she goes on ONE date and already I’ve been dropped
Mina: after all I’ve done for you 😭
You furrow your brows in confusion, scrolling up in the chat. Your bewilderment only increases when you discover Mina’s previous texts have, indeed, gone unanswered. Your video clip is nowhere to be found, and you wonder absently if the Wi-Fi back at your apartment is screwing you over again.
No sooner have you exited the chat that another text comes through, this time from a different number.
We need to talk.
Your heart abruptly flatlines. 
Several things click at once after that, the first being that clearly, it was not Mina’s name you had clicked on to send that video to. 
With shaking hands you open up the chat with your employer, utterly horrified when all your worst nightmares are confirmed at once. 
There, staring back up at you from beneath a message asking if Dee is allergic to band aids, is your cleavage. 
Enjoy your night baby, is what you’d said to Mr Min afterwards. 
Mr Min, who could slice a grown man’s confidence to ribbons with little more than a look. 
Mr Min, your boss of merely two weeks. 
“Fuck!” you hiss, pressing the call button and bringing the phone to your ear. “Oh fucking, fucking fuck…”
Your employer picks up on the second ring. You suck in a shaky breath before speaking. 
“Sir, I -”
“Miss L/N.” 
His voice is ice cold. So cold that the sound alone sound has your apology catching in your throat. 
Not for the first time since you met him, you’re reminded of exactly why Yoongi is so revered and respected among those in the business world. You can’t imagine what it would be like to have him speak your name like that in a boardroom full of men in suits, but you’re pretty sure any shred of self-confidence you had would be all but crushed beneath the toe of his designer oxfords if he so desired. In all honesty, you’d probably prefer it if he were yelling at you. At least if he raised his voice, you wouldn’t be gripping the faucet right now for fear your knees might buckle beneath you.
Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door slams shut like Yoongi is just getting in after a long day. Or perhaps he’s taking this conversation somewhere more private. Either possibility has your stomach churning with anxiety. 
“What is wrong with you?” he hisses under his breath.
You swear you’ve never wanted the floor to swallow you up so badly as you do in this moment.
Screwing your eyes shut, you force yourself to respond. 
“Sir, I can’t tell you how completely sorry I am… th-the video was meant for someone else. I would never be so bold as to -”
“You do realise I’m entrusting my child to you?”
Immediately, your mouth snaps shut. The sensation that you’ve just been slapped across the face takes you by complete surprise.
It takes a few seconds for your brain to play catch up with what Yoongi just said, but when the words finally compute, you feel -hurt-. The suggestion that your personal life might impact on your ability to take care of Yoongi’s daughter stings like hell, and for all his lacking interpersonal skills, your employer didn’t strike you as the type to draw such conclusions until now. The notion doesn’t sit well with you at all. 
Swallowing tightly, you place a hand over your abdomen to ground yourself.
“I really am sorry, Mr Min,” you repeat quietly. “It was an accident. I never intended to put you in an uncomfortable position, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
On the other end of the line, Yoongi is quiet for a moment. 
You wonder if he could hear the slight tremble in your voice. If he can sense the fact that he just squashed your self-confidence beneath his thumb like it was nothing. 
“Make sure it doesn’t,” he mutters eventually. Then, after another short pause, “I’ll see you on Monday.” 
Before you can so much as thank him for not threatening to report you to the agency, you’re met with the tell-tale click of your employer placing the phone down on you, leaving you with an embarrassed lump in your throat and bottom lip wobbling with the threat of tears. 
As could probably be predicted, your date with Jungkook goes rapidly downhill from there. Apparently unable to enjoy a good thing without utterly humiliating yourself along the way, you feel sick to your stomach with anxiety for the remainder of the evening. You barely even touch your dessert, and when Jungkook walks you to your cab half an hour later, you brush him off with a forced smile and a handshake, already having accepted the fact that he wouldn’t want to see you again.
Only when you’re in the back of the cab and heading home do you allow the first quiet tears to fall.
.
Showing up to work the following Monday is one of the toughest things you’ve ever done.
Even Dee seems to notice something is off when you pick her up from practice. Shrewd as she is, she eventually settles for humming along to the radio when she realises you’re in no mood to talk. Try as you might, you can’t stop replaying her father’s words to you on the phone, and despite Mina’s insistence that he’s an unforgiving prick, a small part of you still wonders if he’s right… Are you even fit to look after a kid? Are you fit to do -anything- besides making a fool of yourself?
To make things worse, Yoongi arrives home early that evening. 
As nervous as you are to see him again, you can’t help but be momentarily distracted by the way he hoists Dee up onto his hip to greet her. It’s not that he’s smiling or anything - such an expression would probably look wrong on him, anyway - but the way he cradles the back of her head seems strangely affectionate for a man like him.
“You’re getting heavy,” he murmurs, pausing to sniff her damp curls. His eyebrows furrow slightly. “And you smell different.”
“Y/N put lime jelly in my bath,” his daughter responds in a sleepy voice, her voice muffled against his lapel. “The water turned green like a skeptic tank.”
“Septic tank,” Yoongi corrects quietly. Though his face remains as expressionless as ever, you don’t miss the way his aura grows soft around her - a detail he himself probably doesn’t even recognise. “Sounds like you two had fun.”
His eyes lock with yours across the living room and you drop your gaze immediately, your body flushing with heat like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t. 
“S-sorry,” you blurt reflexively, already moving to grab your satchel. “I didn’t realise you were coming home early. Let me just pack up my stuff -”
“Y/N.” Yoongi’s voice stops you in your tracks. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
Standing stock still like a deer in the headlights, a sense of impending doom floods through you. This is it. Clearly Yoongi’s thought it over and decided to fire you after all. And the worst thing is you couldn’t even blame him! How could he possibly see you as a professional again after witnessing you running your tongue over your top teeth like a hungry carnivore? You haven’t even had the chance to explain it was -ironic.-
“Sure,” you squeak, torn between accepting your fate and grovelling on your knees for forgiveness. Who the hell was going to hire the babysitter who got fired from her first job during the trial period? For sending -provocative images- no less!
Carefully, Yoongi sets Dee down on the floor again, nodding in the direction of her room. 
“Why don’t you go pick out a bedtime story?” he says.
His daughter peers up at him like he’s just sprouted a second head. 
“You’re going to read to me?”
“No, I’m going to hit you over the head with it.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Obviously I’m going to read to you.”
Dee doesn’t look convinced. She folds her arms over her chest. 
“Alice in Wonderland?”
“That book is long as hell, Dee. I’ll read two chapters.”
“Five.”
“Three.”
“With the voices?”
“What am I, a performing monkey? Get out of here before I change my mind, kid.”
Dee huffs, clearly dissatisfied. Nonetheless, she trudges off to her room, her ringlets bouncing as she goes.
The living room falls uncomfortably quiet again once it’s just you and Yoongi. 
You fiddle idly with your hands, unsure of where to look. The embarrassment of the situation hits you all over again when you accidentally replay the video in your mind, and despite the fact that you’re wearing two layers already, you can’t help but cross your arms protectively over your chest. 
As if sensing your discomfort, Yoongi clears his throat.
“May I offer you a drink?”
You pause. It’s not quite what you’d expected, but then again, rich people are weird. Maybe it’s customary to send your incompetent employees on their way with a glass of Chateau Petrus. Having skipped out on the whole making-millions-of-dollars-in-your-early-twenties thing, you probably wouldn’t know.
“I’m fine,” you manage weakly, shaking your head. “Thank you, sir.”
Yoongi gestures towards the couches. “Shall we sit then?”
You gnaw at your lip anxiously. “... I think that depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you’re going to fire me.” You force yourself to look up. “With all due respect, Mr Min, I’d rather just shake hands and go. I’m finding it hard enough to look you in the eye right now as it is.”
Yoongi blinks. Your words hang heavy in the air between you. 
“Miss L/N,” he says slowly, clearly taken aback by your forwardness. “If I wanted to fire you, I would have done so already.”
You open your mouth, then abruptly close it again. Your eyebrows tug together in confusion. 
“So you... aren’t?”
“Of course I’m not.” Yoongi shakes his head as if the notion alone is utterly ridiculous to him. “I only held you back tonight because I wanted to -” 
He cuts himself off suddenly, like there’s a physical barrier stopping the words from coming out. Then with a tired sigh, he leans back against the sideboard, carding his ringed fingers back through his hair. 
“Because I wanted to apologise,” he finishes.
If possible, your eyes grow even wider than before.
“...Huh?” is all you can manage.
“I shouldn’t have been so hard on you,” Yoongi clarifies simply. “I was out of line. I had no business speaking to you how I did.”
“Oh, n-no Mr Min,” you scramble for words, already raising your hands to stop him from going on. “Please don’t say that. What happened on Saturday was totally my fault. That message was -”
“A harmless accident,” he cuts in gently, and you pause at the unfamiliarity in his tone. “Please rest assured that I was the asshole in that situation, Y/N, not you.”
Lips parted softly, you gape at him from across the dimly lit living room. It’s beyond strange hearing such a formidable man issue such a humble apology, and you had absolutely no idea how to respond. 
Seeming to mistake your silence as a prompt for further explanation, Yoongi exhales heavily through his nose, his gaze momentarily dropping to his feet.
“I tend to get a little… short-fused around this time of year,” he says. “I lost Dee’s mother in early December. Yesterday was the four-year anniversary of her death.”
Your heart stutters in your chest. 
Of course, you knew there was a woman involved at some point. And in more than just an oven-for-the-bun kind of way, if the drawings on the fridge were anything to go by. But up until now, you’d assumed the two of them had simply parted ways - that she lived a few neighbourhoods away, and Dee visited her every other weekend. To learn that her absence is something far more permanent than that - to witness that purple stick-woman transform into a real, vibrant image in your mind’s eye - is something else entirely, and a thousand possibilities flash through your imagination at shutter speed. You see someone who took care of Dee when she was sick. Someone who encouraged her husband to pursue his goals and start up his own company. A mother and a wife, with hobbies and dreams and a presence that probably bled itself into every cranny of the apartment before Yoongi had stripped it bare in her wake. 
Someone who probably would have been utterly furious at you for all the bold assumptions you’ve made about him so far.
You wonder who the man standing before you might have been, had he not had the person he loved most in the world torn from him just as they were starting a life together. All at once, your gut burns with shame.
“Mr Min...” you say, your voice barely loud enough to make the distance between you. “I’m so sorry.”
Yoongi is quick to shake his head. “Don’t be,” he says, his tone kind but firm. “I’m a grown man. My grief is no excuse to treat people poorly. If I could take back what I said that night I would, but when your message came through it -”  He abruptly stops talking. 
If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks. 
“It caught me off guard,” he finishes eventually, inclining his head in a small bow. “Please accept my apologies.” 
Feeling a little winded by the whole ordeal, there’s little else you can do but return his gesture, stooping low with your hands on your thighs. “Of course,” you manage. “Please, consider it forgotten, sir.”
Yoongi straightens up with a nod. His dark eyes skim over you with an unreadable expression.
“Just for the record,” he adds tentatively, “I never would have fired you for something like that. I’m afraid my daughter is already far too attached to you.”
You flushed at the sentiment, embarrassed for reasons you couldn’t quite place. “I highly doubt that’s true,” you mumble, glancing downward. “I’ve only been here two weeks.”
“On the contrary, there’s a bag of Christmas peppermint creams in the fridge that she made you at after school club,” says Yoongi. “I asked where mine were and she pulled my wallet out of my pocket, handed it back to me and told me to stop sponging off other people’s hard work.”
For the first time during a conversation with your employer, you let out a genuine laugh. 
Yoongi doesn’t laugh along, of course. He doesn’t even smile. You’re starting to figure at this point that his blank expression might actually be his happy one.
“Hey - will Dee be okay?” you ask a few moments later, when the room lapses back into a comfortable quiet. “I wasn’t aware that she might be going through a tough time...”
“I think she’s normalised it now,” Yoongi explains, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “She was too young back then. Her memories of her mother are abstract at best. The drawings she brings home from school, they’re just copies of photographs really. The stuff she knows from home videos or stories I’ve told her.” He pauses. “I think she can sense it though. How I get a bit funny around Christmastime. I think it upsets her.”
“You can’t help it,” you insist gently, the guilt of judging Yoongi too harshly causing your stomach to clench up once again. “Dee’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll come to understand it one day.”
Yoongi watches you from across the room, his head slightly tilted like he was trying to figure something out. 
“Thank you,” he says eventually. “For taking care of Dee. Things before… they were hard on her. I wish I could be there for her more.” He glances away momentarily. “I think you being here has made things easier.” 
Something warm and fuzzy unfurls in your chest at his words. 
“I’m happy I could help,” you say honestly. “She really is a great kid.”
“She is.” Yoongi nods.
“And she thinks the world of you,” you can’t help but add, because despite your previous assumptions about Yoongi’s parenting, it hadn’t taken long to cotton on to the fact that Dee never shuts up about him. 
“Right,” Yoongi snorts. He pushes away from the sideboard. “Tell me that again when the teenage years roll around.”
You grin, and he hesitates a moment for gesturing towards your raincoat.
“It’s dark out, and the light in the parking lot keeps flickering out,” he says. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
The offer takes you by surprise. You’re not used to seeing the kind side of your employer. Hell, you’re not used to much more than thinly-veiled criticism and blunt remarks.
Nonetheless, after saying a final goodnight to Dee, you let Min Yoongi walk you downstairs that day.
(You let him do it every day after that, too).
.
Now.
You’re sweating buckets by the time you reach the front door, your hair a wild mess from the unexpected bout of snow that had caught you on the way over. Panting like an animal, you raise your elbow to press the doorbell, taking about three tries before you actually manage to accomplish such a feat. 
It’s barely even finished ringing before Yoongi is standing before you, a disgruntled look on his face and cheeks pink from exertion. 
He’s dressed down - or as dressed down as one can be in a Ralph Lauren sweatshirt and comfy slacks, which in reality is about as close to loungewear as he’s likely to get. Up until now you were convinced the man slept in a full suit. 
Standing in the doorway with one hand on the frame, he gives you an unimpressed once over.
“You’re late.”
You roll your eyes. “Hello to you too.”
“What’s with the bags?” 
“Just a few things to get us through the week. Can I come in, or...?”
Begrudgingly, Yoongi moves out the way, though he’s still eyeing you warily.
“Exactly how much sugar are you planning to stuff my kid with while I’m gone?” 
You place your shopping bags down in the entryway with a sigh. “It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake, what else are we supposed to do if not overeat until we pass out in front of the TV?”
Yoongi hums, his lips pursed. “Right. Just remember no sweet treats after eight. And no milk either for that matter, we’re trying her on -” 
“A lactose free diet to see if it helps with the stomach cramps,” you drone. “I’ve been here every weekday for a whole year, Yoongi. There’s no need to reiterate the rules every time I walk in.” 
“You might know the rules, but I know my daughter. She despises oat milk with a passion, and she’ll try every which way to get you to cave when it comes to hot chocolate.” He pulls out his wallet with a sigh, and your expression morphs into one of confusion. “How much do I owe you?” 
“O-oh! You don’t have to pay me back,” You hold your hands out in front of you, shaking your head. “These are a gift, and they barely cost anything anyway. It’s just gingerbread men and.. and colouring books and stuff.” 
Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. 
“Really,” he drawls. “So you’re telling me I won’t find the new Super Smash Bros game buried underneath all that junk food if I take a look?” 
“Shh!” You clap a hand over his mouth, eyes darting towards the living room. “Don’t spoil it!” 
Yoongi sighs, taking your wrist gently so he can speak again. “Snacks are fine, but that game is at least forty dollars. I can’t have you spending that much money on us.” 
“But I want to,” you insist, giving him the puppy-dog eyes. “Dee’s wanted it for months, and she’s been working so hard recently. I want to show her I’m proud of her.” You stick your bottom lip out. “Please let me.” 
Yoongi narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t look at me like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“You know what.”
You grin wickedly. You already know you’ve won.
With a reluctant grumble, Yoongi slides his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m only letting this slide because I’m running late,” he says, even though you’re both aware he’s not. He nods towards your grocery bags. “You need help getting those to the kitchen?” 
“I’ll be fine,” you wave him off. “You finish packing, boss. I’ll go say hi to the little monster.” 
Unsurprisingly, Dee is still in her pyjamas when you find her. She’s curled up on her side at the foot of the Christmas tree, Home Alone playing on the TV for the umpteenth time. You know it’s her favourite. She and Kevin have a lot in common when left to their own devices.
“Hey, bug,” you say in passing. “You getting into the Christmas spirit?”
Dee barely even lifts her head to look at you. “How can I?” she mumbles into the carpet. “I’m being abandoned. Again.”
You tut, opening the fridge so you can unload the goods into it. “Hey now, it’s not all bad. You have me, remember. And I have gingerbread men.”
You hold up the box and shake it, but Dee merely blinks at your efforts to raise her spirits. 
She sighs forlornly, her gaze sliding back to the TV.
Your eyes soften as you watch her. She looks so small like this, rolled over on one side with her knees tucked up against her chest. It’s hard to believe this is the same little girl whose performances explode like dynamite when she hits the ice, the energy she exudes reaching every corner of the rink. 
In these smaller, quieter moments, you see more of her father in her than ever.
“Dee,” you say, your voice gentle but firm. “Look at me, bug.” 
Reluctantly, she peels her eyes away from the TV screen to meet yours.
“You know your dad doesn’t want to go any more than you want him to, right?” you say. “If it were up to him, he’d be staying right here.”
“I know...” Dee mumbles, playing with her fingers. “I just don’t like it when he’s gone.”
“I know you don’t, bug.” You smile sadly. “And that’s totally okay. But we need to make sure we don’t make this any harder on him than it needs to be, right? That means no tears this time.”
Dee rolls her eyes, her cheeks flushing. 
Yoongi had been called away on a weekend business trip in Paris a few months ago, and for whatever reason, the kid had had a meltdown like nothing you’d ever seen before when it came time for him to leave. It had taken all your strength to pry her arms from around his leg, and at the time it had been heart-breaking to witness. 
Her separation anxiety always tends to show its face at some point when Yoongi goes overseas, but never before to that extent. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look quite so torn as Yoongi had in that moment. If you hadn’t been there, you’re convinced he would have cancelled the trip altogether. 
Thankfully, the farewell goes a lot smoother this time. When Yoongi returns from his bedroom with suitcase in tow, Dee stands up and hugs him with little fanfare, burying her face in his stomach. He lifts a hand to smooth over her hair. 
“Be good, okay?” he says. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Love you,” Dee mumbles when she pulls back, and you send her an encouraging nod Yoongi’s shoulder. 
“Love you too, kid.” Yoongi bends to kiss the crown of her head, and you observe the exchange with the familiar ache of longing in your bones.
You see him to the door afterwards, the two of you loitering in the threshold as you go through the usual routine of checking he has everything.
“Boarding pass?” you say.
“In my bag.”
“Phone? Wallet?”
He pulls both out to show you. You smile fondly, leaning up against the doorframe with your arms crossed. 
“Text us when you land, okay?” you say softly.
“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “If you have an emergency while I’m gone -”
“Call Namjoon, his number’s on the fridge under the banana magnet.” You roll your eyes, absentmindedly reaching out to fix his collar. “Again, been here a whole year, Yoongi. I know the drill.”
Your brain catches up a few seconds too late, and by the time you’ve realised your error Yoongi is already blinking down at your fingers, frozen in the process of smoothing down the hem of his sweater. 
Your eyes go wide in panic.
“Um-!” You retract your hands as if you’ve been burned. “H-have a safe flight, okay? I’ll see you soon!”
Yoongi merely hums, staring at you from beneath hooded lids with an unreadable expression.
You all but slam the door in his face, leaning your back up against it and pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.
“...fuck!” Yoongi hears you curse on the other side.
.
Last year
The first time you realised you’re in love with your employer, it’s the evening of Dee’s first regional skate competition.
At the request of the little princess herself, you wander into the changing rooms fifteen minutes before the show to give her a good luck hug, finding her perched on a bench in a sparkly blue costume. Her skates are already done up, feet swinging back and forth and her entire body seeming to buzz with energy. Smiling, you begin to make your way over. 
Then you spot him.
Perched on one knee, his hair swept back off his forehead and the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up to his elbows, Yoongi wields a makeup palette in his left hand and a brush in his right. When he murmurs something soft under his breath, Dee responds by closing her eyes. You watch on in quiet awe as Yoongi leans up to brush the glittery powder over her right lid with feather-light strokes. 
When he’s satisfied with the blending, he swaps out the eyeshadow palette for a pack of rhinestones, even going so far as to use a pair of tweezers to apply them seamlessly to her lash line one by one. You can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this before. He must be the only father in the room right now, and something about the way he owns that fact makes your chest swell with something warm and unidentifiable. You wonder if the braids on her head are his handiwork too. If it was his idea that she wear her mother’s necklace over her costume tonight.
In this moment, you know with certainty there was no one in the world Min Yoongi cared about more than his little girl. 
When he just so happens to glance your way a moment later, Yoongi’s expression barely shifts from his default glower.
“Oh, good,” he remarks drily, tossing you a can of hairspray. You barely managed to catch it without fumbling. “She’s got some flyaways round the back. There’s a comb in the front pocket of her gym bag.”
He goes straight back to work without sparing you a second glance after that, firmly instructing Dee to stop wriggling lest he poke her eye out by accident. 
You swore your heart has never felt so full. 
Biting back a smile, you wordlessly locate the comb and start smoothing out her hair. 
.
Now
“Hold it… hooold it…”
“Dee, babe. I really don’t think -”
“Hold it, Y/N!”
You exhale heavily through your nose, arms trembling as you struggle to maintain the downward dog position you’ve been forced into. Dee isn’t having nearly so much trouble, her forehead lightly touching her yoga mat when she arches her spine. She wiggles her bottom playfully in the air.
“That’s, guys. You look great!” chirps the annoyingly perky young woman on your iPad screen. “Now we take our right leg and extend upwards, pushing down hard into our heel so we can really feel that stretch in our hamstrings.”
“Trust me, I’m feeling it,” you grunt, barely managing to raise your right leg thirty centimetres off the ground. 
Dee giggles, her leg already extended to its full height as if her body were made of elastic. 
Your core contracts with the effort of keeping you upright, knees threatening to buckle beneath you.
“How is this fair? You’ve been skating since before you could walk and I haven’t moved this much since high school.”
“Tina says each new day is an opportunity to improve yourself.”
You roll your eyes. “Tina sounds like a hoot.” 
“That’s the spirit, ladies! Other leg, let’s go!”
You groan, switching sides. It’s the third day in a row that Dee’s had you do stretches with her, and you’re starting to feel more like you’ve signed up for a week of boot camp than a week of babysitting. 
Dee squints at you from beneath her armpit. 
“Y/N,” she sighs.
“Mm?”
“You’re dropping your hips.”
“My apologies, Drill Sergeant Min. Won’t happen again.”
She returns to her position, shaking her head like a disappointed school teacher. “You’re worse than dad, you know.”
You do a double take. “I’m sorry - Yoongi does this with you?”
“Sometimes.” Dee moves gracefully into a side plank, facing away from you. “When he doesn’t have work.”
“And you’re telling me I’m worse?”
“Consideradly.”
“It’s considera-bly,” you correct her with a huff, more out of indignation than anything else. 
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Dee shrugs.
You let out an amused snort, though your mind is still reeling at the thought of Yoongi willingly assuming the lotus position and breathing out for eight counts. Scratch that, your mind is reeling at the thought of Yoongi wearing anything other than slacks. What kind of power does this kid wield that she can get the human robot himself to break a sweat? 
You continue on with the routine until you can’t any longer, at which point you collapse onto your back with little ceremony. 
“That’s it,” you pant, waving the metaphorical white flag in the air. “I’m done. No more.”
“But we haven’t even got to the headstand part yet!”
“Go on without me, bug. I’ll only hold you back at this point.” You manage to sit up despite the dull ache in your abs, glancing over at the wall clock. “Man, it’s getting late. I should get started on dinner.”
No sooner have you spoken it that Tina’s bouncing breasts disappear from your screen, replaced by Yoongi’s caller ID. 
“Dad!” Dee gasps, already lunging forward to press accept before you can think to stop her.
When Yoongi’s expressionless face appears, he is confronted with the image of you kneeling on your yoga mat in a ratty pink sports bra and leggings, frozen like a deer in the headlights with your brow glistening with sweat and an eight-year-old’s halloween headband holding your hair back from your face. 
You freeze. Yoongi blinks at the velvet cat ears sticking up from atop your head.
“Good morning,” he says in a low rumble.
In the next second you’re diving off-screen with a muttered curse, grappling for your T-shirt where it sits bundled up on the floor. 
None the wiser to your panic, Dee scrunches her nose up. 
“Morning?” she says, settling on her stomach with her chin in her hands. “It’s like five p.m.”
“Different time zones, kid. It’s almost lunchtime here.” Yoongi reclines in his fancy armchair, which is presumably in his hotel suite. “You two have been working hard I see.”
“No pain, no gain,” Dee tells him matter-of-factly, even going so far as to flex her bicep for the camera.
Yoongi hums. “Just don’t go pushing yourself too hard, hm? One of these days you’re going to twist yourself up into a pretzel position you can’t get yourself out of, and when that happens -I’m- the one who’s going to end up carrying you around.”
“Tell that to Y/N,” Dee snorts. “She looked like a drowning octopus when we got to the backbends.”
“I was not that bad,” you hiss, your face heating up with embarrassment despite being off-camera. Then, as an afterthought, “And how the hell does an octopus drown?”
Nobody is listening to you. It might just be a trick of the light, but you’re convinced you spot the corner of Yoongi’s mouth give a slight twitch of amusement.
“Be nice, Dee,” he says, though he doesn’t sound particularly worried for you. “The only bad workout is the one that didn’t happen, right?”
You pause, giving Dee the side-eye. “...Did he just quote Tina?”
She fixes you with a serious gaze. “Careful. Dad is a big Tina fan.”
“Ugh, I bet he is,” you mutter under your breath, pulling a face as you recall the way Tina’s cute little glute muscles had contracted during the standing pigeon. 
“Feel free to let me know when you’re done talking about me like I’m not here,” Yoongi drawls dispassionately, taking a sip of his coffee. “I need to speak with Y/N.”
You can’t help the way your stomach flutters at that. Hesitantly (and having disposed of Dee’s cat ears), you lean back into frame. 
“What’s up?” you say with an awkward wave, already cringing at yourself internally.
Yoongi blinks languidly, passing no comment on your previous state of undress. 
“I’m expecting a delivery to arrive at some point this week,” he says. “I need you to sign for me and put it somewhere safe. Preferably out of reach for anyone below four-foot-two, if you catch my drift.”
“Ohh,” you nod slowly, giving him the thumbs up. Clearly this delivery was Christmas-oriented. “Gotcha. Don’t worry, boss, I’ll make sure no prying eyes see anything they shouldn’t.” 
You shoot him an exaggerated wink behind Dee’s head.
The smallest of smiles works its way onto Yoongi’s lips, and the sight is nothing short of stunning. Just like clockwork, the sight has your chest aching for him to be home. You open your mouth to speak again - perhaps to ask how Berlin is treating him, or some equally lame attempt to keep him on call for a little longer - but before the words can form there’s a sharp knock on the door of Yoongi’s hotel suite.
“Come in,” he calls gruffly.
Fortunately (or perhaps not so fortunately) the angle of the camera is just right that you can see the reflection of the door in the mirror behind, swinging open to reveal his guest. 
“Aha! There he is,” a sultry female voice sounds through the screen. “I’ve been looking all over for you, mister.”
Your heart sinks right to the pit of your stomach. Lower, if it were possible. 
There’s no doubt in your mind that the woman standing in Yoongi’s doorway is anything short of a goddess in a pinstriped skirt. You’d have to be blind not to see how gorgeous she is, all long limbs and softly curled red hair that falls in waves about her shoulders. She leans up against the doorframe with her hip cocked, a playful smirk on her face as she looks at your employer.
“Sofie,” Yoongi acknowledges with a polite nod. True to form, his expression betrays precisely nothing of what’s going on in his head. “Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to ask if you’re coming to lunch. We’ve made reservations at the restaurant downstairs if you’d like to join us.”
Your eyes skirt away, seeking out something better to look at. Anything really, so long as it’s not the obscenely beautiful woman who's hitting on the man you love in a swanky hotel eight thousand kilometres away.
“That’s very kind of you,” says Yoongi, and you wish for once that his voice was anything other than a monotone drawl. There’s absolutely no way of deciphering whether he's into this woman when he talks to her the same way he talks to you, and Dee, and noodles on the damn stove when he wants them to hurry up and boil. “I just need to finish up this call. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Perfect.” Sofie pushes away from the door with a coy smile. “I’ll see you there.”
She turns on her heel, hips swaying like a pendulum as she slinks out of the room. When the door closes behind her, Yoongi returns his focus to the camera, totally nonchalant. 
“Looks like I’m out of time,” he says.
Dee props her chin on her hand, pouting sullenly. “Are you gonna be home soon?”
“Four days, kid, then I’m all yours.” His gaze flickers over to you. “You two take care, okay?”
“You too,” you nod quickly, determined not to let the internal battle you’re having right now show up on your face.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Dad.” Dee waves.
“Enjoy your-”
The call ends abruptly, cutting you off.
“... Night,” you finish lamely.
The lovely Miss Tina returns to your screen, and Dee blows a gust of hair from between her lips. The sound startles you somewhat.
“Man,” she says, flopping down onto her stomach. “I hate that B-word.”
“Dee!” you shriek, your eyes almost bugging right out of your head.
She blinks up you innocently. “What? I didn’t curse.”
“I - God, who even taught you that?”
“Family Guy,” she shrugs.
“Right, that’s it. I’m revoking your TV privileges for the rest of the week.” You stand up, waving your finger at her so she knows you’re serious. “Just because it’s a cartoon does not mean it’s suitable for kids.”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” she mutters. “But Sofie really -is- annoying. She’s a froo-trarian, so we had to eat this really weird meal with papaya and stuff when she came over. And she said figure skating is basically just a style of dance!”
You freeze halfway to the kitchen.
“...What?”
“A froo-trarian,” Dee repeated, with extra emphasis on the ‘froo’. “It’s this religion where you don’t eat anything with a face, or anything that came out of something with a face, or anything green unless it’s a kiwi.” 
“No,” you shake your head jerkily. “No, I mean - Sofie came here? To the apartment?”
“Yuh-huh.” Dee’s already distracted, rewinding the workout video to where you left off. “She was doing some work thing with Dad. They were in his office for hours.”
Immediately, your stomach tightens with anxiety. Something about that doesn’t sit right with you at all. Yoongi hardly ever has people from work around, much less for a meal. The man can barely even feed himself when the recipe calls for more than a microwave.
A selfish part of you wants to press the matter with Dee. To ask her more questions about Sofie, and what was said over this illusive dinner they had together. How Yoongi had acted with her. But you know it’s not your place to pry. 
Yoongi deserves his privacy, and you refuse to let your paranoia infringe on that.
“I’ll get started on dinner,” you murmur, continuing on your way to the kitchen.
The feeling of unease stays with you for the remainder of the evening.
.
Last year
You’re filling in for a friend at the university library when the call comes through. Not on your mobile, because that’s been off all morning, but via the landline you didn’t even know the place had. Your supervisor hands you the phone with raised eyebrows, looking slightly rattled by whoever’s on the other line. 
“It’s for you. They say it’s urgent.”
‘They’ turns out to be an uncharacteristically flustered Yoongi. You’ve barely managed to greet him before he’s rushing to speak over you in a garbled voice, his tone simultaneously exhausted and frantic. 
“Dee’s sick,” he blurts, followed by the distinct sound of rooting through his cabinets. “The doctor said it was just a cold but - I don’t know, Y/N, her face is so hot and she can’t keep anything down, not even plain toast -”
“Okay, deep breaths.” You hold a hand up as if he were standing in front of you, doing your best to placate him. “Panicking won’t solve anything. What’s her temperature like? Is she drinking okay?”
“She was at a hundred last time I checked. I managed to get her to drink a little water, but she could barely even finish the glass.” He pauses to suck in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I think I’m having a heart palpitation. Should I give her a whole painkiller or half?”
You blink, taken aback by this new side to your employer. Eternally unmoved, it’s strange to hear his stress manifest itself in anything other than reclusiveness and a sharp tongue. You have to remind yourself how scary it must be to have your child fall sick - especially when you don’t have anyone to support you in taking care of them. 
“Hey,” you say, assuming a more gentle tone, “try to calm down a little, yeah? She’s only just pushing a fever. Her taste buds are out of whack right now, but you can put a dash of fruit syrup in her water to make the taste more bearable. One painkiller should be fine if you can get her to eat a snack with it.” You reach for your coat, shoving your free hand through the sleeve. “I’m heading to my car now, okay? I’ll be with you in twenty minutes. Just hang tight until I get there.”
Yoongi releases a shaky breath on the other end of the line.
“Shit,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” you say, signing yourself out. 
.
Now.
Things come to a head two days later, when the delivery guy shows up with enough parcels to fill Santa’s sled. 
You’ve managed to wrangle Dee into the living room while you find a spot to hide them all, but it’s no easy feat. You know she’ll sniff them out if you’re not careful enough. Thus, you find yourself in Yoongi’s home office, shoving the final few boxes under his desk. Due to the electrical work he’s in the middle of having done, there’s a strict policy on Dee entering this particular room unsupervised. 
“Finally,” you huff, the last package jammed tightly into the limited space beneath the desk like the final piece in a game of Tetris. You stand up and brush yourself off, feeling pretty pleased with yourself. 
The feeling is quick to dissipate, however, when you turn around to find you’ve somehow managed to miss one of the gifts. 
“Oh for goodness sake,” you mutter, glaring at the unassuming white shoebox atop the filing cabinets. “How many pairs of skates does one kid need?”
There’s no room left under the desk, so you figure one of the larger drawers will have to suffice. Crouching down, you root around in search of one empty enough to store it. 
Later, you’ll muse that it’s funny how something so small can flip your entire world on its head. You probably wouldn’t even have noticed the palm-sized box in Yoongi’s bottom drawer had your sleeve not got caught in the slide mechanism. You yank at it unceremoniously, somehow managing to dislodge the entire drawer in the process. 
“Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath, the miscellaneous contents strewn all over the floor. 
Setting aside Dee’s gift, you start putting things to rights with a heavy sigh. Only then do your eyes fall to the dainty turquoise box that’s fallen between an old roadmap of Busan. Topped with a pearlescent white ribbon, the branding is unmistakable. 
You pause for a moment, blinking down at it like it might disappear if you stare long enough. When it doesn’t, you pick it up with shaky fingers.
You’re not sure what possesses you to do what you do next. Perhaps you need to see it with your own eyes. With your heart in your mouth, you flip the box open to peek inside.
There’s no denying that the necklace inside was designed for a woman. It’s custom made; dainty and romantic, everything about it practically screaming with intention. It’s almost comical, in fact, how very Yoongi it is. Who else could pull off a courting gift in this day and age if not him?
You laugh at the thought, ignoring the lone tear that slips down your face as you slide back onto your ass with a thump. The realisation that you’re actually crying over something like this makes you feel beyond stupid, but once you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop.
Nonetheless, you can’t bring yourself to peel your eyes away from the necklace either. You imagine Yoongi wandering into the shop during his lunch break and browsing the options - discussing her tastes with the clerk. Despite its beauty, you don’t have the stomach to take it out of the box. To open up the pendant and look at the photo. You think you might be sick if you read whatever beautifully intimate inscription he’s picked out to go inside.
You press your free hand down against your chest with a soft grunt. 
It hurts so much more than you thought it would. It hurts like a bitch.
“As if you thought he’d want you back,” you whisper, your voice thick. You bark a sharp laugh at your own idiocy. “Fuck. I’m such a loser.”
“Y/N?” Dee yells from the living room, and you almost drop the box to the floor in surprise. “The gingerbread men are burning! We gotta take them out!”
“C-coming!” you shout back, your throat tight.
You set the drawer to rights, shoving both the shoebox and the necklace back inside before slamming it shut. 
.
Last Year
“She really scared you, huh?”
Yoongi’s slumped over on the sofa, his head resting in his hands. With Dee finally asleep in bed having vomited, cried her eyes out, and clung to him like a limpet all through bath time, it’s no wonder he’s feeling worn out by this point. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s almost midnight.
“Mm,” he groans into his palms, lacking the energy to even lift his head.
“Can I get you anything?” you offer, your voice soft. “Coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?”
He waves a hand vaguely. “Tea will do. I’ll be with you in a minute.” 
You round the corner into the kitchen area, flicking the kettle on before moving over to the fridge. As per usual, it’s covered in Dee’s drawings - more so now, given her recent interest in sea creatures. In between the rough sketches of sharks and jellyfish, there’s countless portraits too - you and Yoongi. ‘Uncle Joon’. Their car Freddy, who sadly found a new home before you could meet him. A self portrait. Yoongi again... ‘Mommy.’
You pause, looking over the picture for the umpteenth time. It’s the only depiction of Dee’s mother you’ve been given - a wobbly purple stick figure in a ruby red dress, with curly black hair that stops at her shoulders. She’s smiling. Her little stick hand is attached to Dee’s on one side, and Yoongi’s on the other. Much to your amusement, Yoongi’s mouth has been drawn as a characteristic straight line.
Apparently some things never change.
You’re so busy examining it that you don’t catch him padding in behind you.
“She’s quite the artist,” he remarks, leaning back against the counter.
You turn around, offering him a soft smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Yoongi shrugs. “They’re up there for a reason.”
The kettle reaches boil, and Yoongi observes quietly as you set about making the tea. He accepts his mug with a nod of thanks, but doesn’t drink it immediately. Instead he slides his finger contemplatively over the rim, catching a lone drip before it can roll down the side.
“Thank you for coming over tonight,” he murmurs, staring down into the dark liquid. “I really appreciate your help.”
“It’s no bother,” you say honestly. “You barely needed me at all, by the looks of things.”
Yoongi huffs a small laugh, but the sound falls just short of genuine. “It’s okay. I know I’m shit at this stuff. Elle always took care of the coughs and colds when Dee was small.”
You feel your heart skip a beat, only just stopping your tea from going down the wrong way.
Elle.
He’s never said her name before.
Yoongi is watching you carefully, like he’s trying to gage your reaction. His dark hair shrouds his eyes. 
“It’s okay,” he confirms quietly. “You can ask.”
“What happened to her?” you breathe, like it’s something you’ve been holding in all this time. You didn’t even realise you wanted to know until he said it, but for some reason it feels like there’s so much hinging on his answer. 
You realise belatedly it’s because you want to know Yoongi. You want to understand the little intricacies that make him the man he is, and the woman who played such a big part of it. 
You want to earn his trust. 
“It was four years ago now,” he says, bringing a hand up to work the kinks out of his neck. “She fell ill out of the blue, and the doctors told us it was a lung infection. A rare one, especially given her age, but not incurable. Unfortunately, her body didn’t respond well to the treatment.”
You shake your head. “Oh, Yoongi...”
He nods. Places his glass down with a small sigh. Despite the fact he doesn’t open up often, it’s clear to see he’s made peace with his story now. There’s no anguish in his words; only the fleeting sadness of someone who’s known more loss than they should. 
“She spent her last six months in hospital, and during those last few weeks when she was sick… I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. I think that’s why it was hard today. With Dee.” He seeks out your gaze hesitantly. “I get scared seeing her like that.”
“Anyone would,” you say assuredly, secretly wanting nothing more than to close the distance between you and comfort him. You hold yourself back on principal. “But I promise you, Dee is going to be just fine. It’s just a stomach bug. Some kids are more prone to them than others.”
“I know.” He nods, sweeping his hair back. “I know, I just... get caught up in my head sometimes. Especially this time of year.”
“Totally understandable,” you nod. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Yoongi.”
Slowly, as if part of him is still waiting for you to press for more information, Yoongi picks up his tea again and takes a tentative sip.
“...Thank you,” he says after a long pause. 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “For what?”
“For loving Dee,” he clarifies. 
You smile at him softly in the dim kitchen light.
“Thank you for letting me,” you say, raising the mug to your lips.
.
Now
Yoongi arrives home on Saturday evening, just as the second smattering of snow meets the ground. You hesitate when you hear him come through the door, staying behind in the kitchen as Dee skids into the entryway in her socks. You can hear the surprised grunt she forces from his throat as she flings her little arms around his midsection. 
“Oof. Hi there, kid,” he says, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice after a long night of travelling. You imagine him lowering himself down into a squat so she can hug him properly. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Y/N said I could wait up for you.”
“Is that so?” he hums. “And where is Y/N?”
You sigh quietly, understanding that this is your cue. Steeling your nerves, you hike your duffel bag up higher on your shoulder and head out into the hall, your boots heavy against the hardwood floor.
Yoongi’s eyes sweep upwards when you round the corner, trailing all the way from your shoes to the hem of your coat, already buttoned to the top. You pause somewhat awkwardly in the doorway, and he rises to a slow stand. Despite having practiced three times in the bathroom mirror prior to his arrival, your attempt at a casual smile falls miserably short of hitting the mark. 
“Hey,” you say softly, wondering if you look as drained as you feel. You had next to no rest last night, woken at 2 am when Dee had knocked on your bedroom door claiming she’d had a nightmare.
“I can’t sleep now,” she’d said tearfully, clutching her stuffed rabbit to her chest. It was a gift from Yoongi when she was small - something she’s always kept extra close whenever he’s away.
“You and and me both, bug,” you sighed, picking her up gently to take her back to bed.
Yoongi’s coat is still on as he watches you. He eyes the bag on your shoulder warily.
“Hi,” he says, his tone somewhat tentative. 
He knows something’s up.
“How was your flight?” you ask, your gaze skirting all over the place in an embarrassed bid to do anything but meet his eyes.
“Tiring,” Yoongi nods. “It’s good to be home.”
“I’m sure,” you hum.
It’s uncomfortable. Even Dee seems to sense it, burying her face in Yoongi’s stomach again. He settles a hand on the back of her head, but his eyes never once leave you.
“You aren’t staying,” he says slowly, and it falls just short of a question.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your fingers tightening around the strap of your duffel.
“I can’t. My family... they’re expecting me.”
“I thought you said you weren’t headed home until Monday now.”
Finally, your gaze shifts upwards to collide with his. It’s not like Yoongi to call you out, but he can sense there’s something awry here. You’ve never been so quick to head out before, always sticking around to put Dee to bed or discuss how she’d been while he was away. Yet here you are - practically two seconds away from shoulder-checking him against the doorframe in your haste to leave.
When you speak again your voice is quiet, but there’s something in your tone that implies you won’t be taking further questions.
“Thing’s change.”
Yoongi blinks. Unable to formulate a response fast enough, all he can do is watch as you lower yourself down to kiss Dee’s head, murmuring that you’ll see her soon. When you straighten up, the small, closed-lip smile you offer him is tinged with sadness. 
“Enjoy your Christmas, Yoongi,” you say before moving towards the open door.
“Y/N, wait -”
“I really have to go,” you sigh, pausing with your back to him.
“Evidently,” Yoongi nods. “But I need to talk to you first.”
“Can’t it wait?” you grit out.
“I’m afraid not.”
You’re at war with yourself when he tells Dee to go sit in the living room for a minute; too distracted to be surprised that she goes without a fuss. Clearly, your weird behaviour is more obvious than you thought. 
Yoongi ushers you wordlessly into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind you both. 
“Y/N,” he says in a low voice, fixing you with a look.
You raise your eyebrows at him.
“What?” you say, crossing your arms defensively. You wince internally at how stand-offish you sound, but Yoongi does little more than quirk a brow. He slides his hands into his pockets.
“Explain,” he says levelly. 
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.”
“Yoongi -”
“You know exactly what I mean, and you’re taking advantage of the fact that I’m shit at reading people’s emotions,” he cuts across you, an underlying note of warning in his tone. “Talk to me, or I can assure you we won’t be ironing this out any time soon - whatever this is.”
You blink, momentarily taken aback that he managed to work that out so easily. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t be. Yoongi’s always made a habit of observing more than he speaks.
“Is it Dee?” he presses, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“What?” You shake your head. “Why would it be Dee?”
“I’m just throwing out options here,” Yoongi raises his shoulders in a shrug. “Is it me?”
“Yoongi, please…”
“Okay, so it is me,” Yoongi nods. “Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me what I’ve done, and I’ll fix it.”
“Christ,” you mutter, raising a hand to massage your temples. 
Ever the businessman, Yoongi’s answer to everything is cut and dry. He locates the problem and he fixes it. He despises leaving things up in the air like this, and if you didn’t feel so sorry for yourself over the fact that he’s screwing his work colleague (or at the very least, will be in the near future), you’d almost feel guilty for doing it to him. 
It’s better this way, you remind yourself. This way, no one else gets hurt.
Unfortunately, your employer has a knack for throwing salt in the wound without even realising he’s doing it. 
“Is it the money?” he asks out of nowhere, ticking his head to the side to look at you. “If you feel I’m underpaying you for your time, all you have to do is say so, Y/N. I can’t read minds.”
You open your mouth, then close it again without saying anything. 
For the second time since meeting Yoongi, the force of his words make you feel like you’ve been physically slapped. You glance away as the familiar lump starts to form in your throat.
“You know what?” you choke out. “Forget it.” 
Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow slowly. “Y/N -”
“Tell Dee I said merry Christmas.”
With that, you turn on your heel and make for the elevator, your eyes blurry with tears as you punch desperately at the dial.
Yoongi doesn’t call after you. 
.
Last year
“I’m really not in the mood for this, Mina...” 
“Just one more round!” your friend begs, clasping her gloved hands together with a pout. “It’s unfair of you to waste your god given talents like this. I need that plushie, Y/N!”
You narrow your eyes at her, your expression largely hidden behind the chunky knit scarf which obscures half of your face. Christmas Pikachu smiles at you mockingly through the glass.
“Fine,” you cave eventually. “One round. And you’re paying.”
Mina claps her hands in delight before pulling her purse out, shoving her coins merrily into the slot.
Around you, the Christmas Eve fair is in full swing. It’s an annual event, complete with ice rink and arcade games, the food stalls crammed with families and friends who are practically rolling in the festive spirit - something you can’t quite bring yourself to get into the swing of this year. 
You haven’t spoken to Yoongi since you left his apartment a week ago, though admittedly, this was not for lack of trying on his end. He’s texted you twice so far - once to ask if you’d made it to your parents’ house okay, and a second time to let you know your overtime payment had been transferred to you. Which, in hindsight, might not sound like much if you didn’t know Min Yoongi like the back of your hand. Getting him to respond to his messages, let alone send one -first-, was nigh impossible if it wasn’t a matter of business.
“So…” says Mina, leaning her shoulder up against the glass as the claw machine whirrs to life. “You’re really just gonna keep ignoring him?”
“Are we still talking about this?” you hum, fiddling with the levers. 
“I just want to know where we’re going from here, babe. You were in bits when you called me the other night.”
You sigh heavily. “There’s nothing to discuss, Mi. He likes another woman. He’ll be dating her by the new year, if he’s not already. The only thing I can do is suck it up and move on.”
Mina nods slowly, watching your side profile. “And what about your job?”
You gnaw the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment. Your voice is tentative when you say, “I’ve been in touch with the agency.”
Mina straightens up. “Y/N…”
“Don’t,” you murmur, your eyes remaining fixed on the claw as it descends. “Please don’t lecture me. I know it’s not ideal, but they said there’s a couple of girls on book who can take my place on short notice. They also said they get an influx of requests for sitters around new year, so I shouldn’t be out of a job too long if I play my cards right.”
Your friend’s expression softens. She reaches out to touch a gloved hand to your forearm.
“You know I only want you to be happy, right?”
You nod stiffly. “I know.”
“And if resigning is going to make you happy, then I’ll be right behind you the whole way. It’s just…” she pauses, biting her lip gently. “I know how much you love that kid, Y/N. And I can only imagine how much she loves you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I think it’s a bit late for that, Mi,” you mutter, just as the claw drops Christmas Pikachu an inch from the chute. “And I’m pretty sure this shit is rigged. Let’s move on.”
“Giving up so easily?” says a familiar voice behind you.
You freeze. 
Turning slowly, your stomach sinks at the sight of Yoongi hovering a few feet away. He stands with one hand in his pocket, the other clutched tightly around Dee’s mitted fingers. The dark feathers of his fringe stick out from beneath the woollen beanie on his head, and you can’t help the way your heart clenches up painfully at the sight.
“Y/N!” Dee exclaims, breaking away from her father to close the distance between you. 
You open your arms to her on autopilot, your breath catching in your throat when she wraps her arms around your middle. She rests her chin on your stomach, cheeks flushed and rosy from the cold as she looks up at you with imploring eyes. 
“Where have you been?” she says, showcasing the gap in her front teeth. “Uncle Joon’s had to pick me up from practice three times now, and he’s so much worse at it than you. He doesn’t even let me listen to the radio,” she adds sullenly. 
“I’m sorry, bug,” you say softly, placing a hand on her hat. It’s shaped like a panda head, complete with button eyes and two fluffy black ears. “I’ve been... busy.”
“Y/N,” Mina prompts, not unkindly. Her eyes flicker warily over to Yoongi. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Uh - right. Sorry.” You clear your throat, gesturing vaguely between them. “Yoongi, this is Mina, my friend from college. Mina, this is Min Yoongi, my -” You cut yourself off, embarrassment coiling in your stomach. “Dee’s father,” you settle for in the end. 
Yoongi steps forward to shake Mina’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Mina hums, though her tone is sceptical at best. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Yoongi nods. He steps back with hands in his pockets, and you fear another awkward silence might be coming on until he glances sideways at the grab machine. 
“Anything I can help with?” he says, raising his eyebrows.
If Mina is taken aback by the proposal, she doesn’t show it. She’s the complete opposite of you when it comes to social situations. (Meaning she’s actually good at them for the most part).
“Only if you’re better at this stupid game than Y/N,” she sighs forlornly, pressing her finger to the glass. “Christmas Pikachu won’t stop staring at me. Fancy taking a stab at it?”
Panicked by the prospect of being around Yoongi any longer than you have to be, you’re quick to wave her off. “Yeah, I really don’t think -”
“Sure,” Yoongi cuts across you with a shrug, already pulling his wallet out. “How much is it for a spin?”
Dumbfounded, you find yourself standing awkwardly on the sidelines as the three of them crowd around the claw machine. While Mina leans up against the glass with her arms folded, Dee jumps up and down on her toes, cheering her father on as he works the controls. Yoongi barely spares you a glance, already far too absorbed in beating the machine before his time runs out.
Not twenty seconds later, Dee is squealing with delight as Christmas Pikachu dives down the chute with three seconds to spare. 
“Woah!” Mina exclaims, dusting the plushie off as she examines him. “Nice skills. You learn that in business school?”
“Of course,” Yoongi blinks. “They’re big on the fundamentals.”
Mina snorts, but you know she’s not won over just yet. She holds Christmas Pikachu out to Dee.
 “There you go, kiddo. Consider it an early Christmas present, hm?”
Dee’s eyes go wide, her lips forming a surprised ‘o’ shape. 
“Really?” she says in a small voice.
Mina shrugs. “He’s all yours. I don’t really rate guys who play hard to get anyway.” 
She shoots a pointed smile at Yoongi, and you elbow her hard in the back.
None the wiser, Dee accepts the gift with a happy little noise, hugging it hard to her chest. “Cool!”
Yoongi places a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“What do we say?” he prompts.
You can feel your heart thawing when the little girl blushes, realising her error.
“Thank you,” she says shyly, looking down at her pink snow boots.
Mina pats her affectionately between the panda ears. “No problem, kiddo.”
“Right. Well.” You clap your hands together. “It was wonderful seeing you both, but we should be heading back now. Mina and I have a thing.”
Your friend quirks an eyebrow. “Do we?”
“Yes, we do,” you hiss through your teeth, and the message seems to go through. Turning back around, you open your arms to Dee. “Got a goodbye hug for me, bug?”
To your surprise, Dee doesn’t indulge you. Instead she shrinks back behind Pikachu until only her eyes are showing, big and round and hopeful. 
“Aren’t you going to watch me skate?” she says in a small voice, the question muffled by his fur.
Your heart sinks. -Of course,- you think. There’s an ice rink at the fair, and Dee never misses an opportunity to get on the ice. She also never forgets a pinkie promise, and you’ve sworn to her on several occasions that you’d always be there to support her if you could. 
Not about to break your word like that, you sigh inwardly before forcing a smile. 
“Of course I am, bug,” you breathe, straightening up. “But just one round, okay? Mina and I will be watching from over here -”
“Y/N,” Yoongi cuts across you softly. 
Startled, you meet his eyes. It’s the first time he’s addressed you properly since his arrival, and there’s an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before. He peers at you tentatively from beneath his bangs.
“I was actually hoping we could watch from over there,” he says, nodding to a cluster of secluded benches over by the hot chocolate stand. Clearly he’s trying not to make things weird in front of Dee, but you have no trouble picking up what he’s putting down. 
Yoongi wants to speak to you. Alone.
You open and close your mouth a few times as you try to come up with a subtle way to reject him but (as she seems to be so fond of doing these days) Mina beats you to the punch.
“What an excellent idea,” she says, a firm hand on your lower back. “Y/N and Yoongi can go be boring grown ups over there, and in the meantime -” she holds her hand out to Dee with a smile, “- us two will hit the ice and have some real fun.”
Dee flashes her gummy grin, her tongue poking out through the gap her missing tooth left behind as she accepts Mina’s hand. Your friend glances at Yoongi with raised eyebrows, waiting for permission. 
“Fine by me,” he shrugs. He flips his wallet open again, but Mina waves him off.
“Ah, ah, ah. You’re not the only one with money, Mr Marketing guy. This one’s on me.”
Yoongi snorts at that, but he doesn’t protest when Dee tugs both Mina and Christmas Pikachu off towards the ice rink. As he slots his wallet back into his pocket, your friend tosses you a supportive smile over her shoulder.
“Sorry about her,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. You stare at the frozen ground beneath your feet. “She can be a little… hard to please at first.”
“Don’t be,” Yoongi shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’m actually glad I ran into you both.” 
“You are?”
He hums lowly in affirmation. “It’s been a while.”
You bite your lip in embarrassment, suddenly unsure of what to say. There’s not much point in trying to defend yourself. Both of you know you’ve been ignoring him, and the fact that Yoongi’s acting otherwise right now is a professional courtesy you definitely don’t deserve.
“Come.” He says, jerking his chin in the direction of the benches. “I’ll buy you a drink.” 
He’s already walking away when you look up, and you have little option but to follow. 
Yoongi gently insists that you take a seat while he queues for your drinks, and returns five minutes later with two mugs of mulled wine. You accept with a quiet thank you, raising your eyes at the saran-wrapped cookie he slips into his coat pocket.
“For Dee,” he explains. 
The two of you lapse into an extended quiet as the new skaters take to the rink. Dee and Mina appear together, laughing as Mina nearly stumbles over right off the bat. They appear to have pawned Christmas Pikachu off to a good-natured attendant, who lifts the plushie’s paw in a wave every time Dee passes by. 
You can’t pretend the sight doesn’t hurt your heart a little. Dee is easily one of the best things that’s ever happened to you, and the thought of not seeing her as much come the new year feels just as painful as the alternative. 
You sip your drink, keeping your eyes glued to her even when Yoongi clears his throat. 
“So,” he says.
“So.”
“Did I do something wrong, or?”
“N-no? Why would you think that?” you try.
Yoongi pins you with a look.
“Seriously?” he says, though his tone is not unkind. “You’ve been ignoring my texts for a week now. Dee said she emailed you an invite to her New Year's showcase and you still haven’t got back to her. She got Juliet by the way.”
You smile ruefully at your lap, thumbing at the rim of your mug. “I knew she would,” you say quietly.
Yoongi watches your side profile carefully. 
“Y/N,” he says, and you know there’s no wriggling out of it when he takes that tone. “Whatever it was I did, I can’t make it better unless you tell me what’s wrong. You know I’m not good at this stuff.”
You sigh, your breath spiralling upwards in a cloud of white. At this point, you feel utterly defeated. 
“Would it be cliche to say it’s not you, it’s me?”
“Extremely.”
“Then I’m sorry,” you shrug. “It’s the best I’ve got right now.”
Yoongi stares at you a while longer, his expression carefully blank. Then he turns back to the ice rink.
The pair of you sit in loaded silence for a few moments.
“So that’s it?” 
You shrug. “That’s it.”
Yoongi leans back in his seat. He says nothing.
You’re acutely aware that anyone passing by right now would think you’re a couple. You certainly look the part - sitting side by side in comfortable silence, watching your daughter having fun on the rink. And maybe in another life, in some alternate dimension, that’s exactly what you are. Just the three of you, with no hang-ups or baggage or strings attached. No complications. Just happy.
You almost jump out of your skin when Yoongi speaks again.
“You remember when you sent me that nude by accident?”
You choke a little on your mulled wine, your hand flying to your mouth.
“I - it wasn’t a nude!” you exclaim.
You stare over at him with wide eyes, but Yoongi keeps his gaze firmly on the ice rink.
“I blew up at you over the phone afterwards because I felt guilty,” he goes on, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Why would you feel guilty?” you mutter. “I sent it, not you.”
Yoongi shakes his head minutely, still not looking at you. “The timing was all wrong. It was the anniversary of my wife’s death, and I was… I was confused.” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “I felt like I was disrespecting both of you at once. It fucked with my head.”
“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur.
“How many times are you going to apologise for my misgivings?” he says forcefully, and you shut up immediately at his tone. “You’ve done more for Dee in the past year than any school teacher or single parent support service has managed to achieve in five. You cook meals for her, watch every single one of her practices even though you don’t have to, and read to her in those stupid voices she’s always begging me to do.” You chuckle wetly at that. “Not to mention her confidence has shot up from having a woman around the house. She misses you like crazy now that you’re not around.”
“Yoongi...”
“I miss you like crazy.”
You freeze. He’s looking at you dead in the eyes now, and his gaze is burning.
You flinch when something touches your hand, your throat constricting when you glance down to find Yoongi’s fingers wrapping tightly around yours.
“Come back to us,” he implores softly.
“I don’t think I can,” you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears.
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
The silence seems to stretch on forever. Your heart beats in your throat. 
When Yoongi retracts his hand, your heart shatters into a million pieces all over again.
“You...what?”
“I love you, and you’re in love with someone else,” you say, cursing yourself when your bottom lip starts to tremble. You turn your face away, unable to meet his eyes as you continue. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have been snooping, but I was looking for a hiding spot for Dee’s presents, and then the necklace fell out and… and when we called you Sofie was there, and Dee let slip that she’d been at the apartment to see you so I put two and two together, and I felt so awful, Yoongi... I felt awful that you’re trying to start this thing with someone new, and here I am wishing it was me instead. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to Dee.” You scrub the sleeve of your jacket under your eye. “You deserve to be happy. Dee deserves to see you happy.”
For a man known for being chronically unreadable, every emotion under the sun seemes to flicker over Yoongi’s face in that moment. Eventually, he settles on utterly bewildered.
“Shit,” he breathes. 
You laugh sardonically. “Yeah.”
“You... love me,” he says flatly.
“Please don’t make me repeat all that.”
He swallows. “And you found the necklace.”
“That’s what I said, yes.”
“The necklace for Sofie.”
You glare at him. “Are you trying to rub it in? Yes the necklace for Sofie.”
“Right.” Yoongi nods. “Just to clarify -”
“- Oh for god’s sake.-”
“- You mean this necklace, right?”
You pause mid-sentence when he pulls the box from his pocket, before narrowing your tearful eyes at him.
“I - Why on earth are you carrying it around with you?”
He thumbs over the ribbon gently, resting the box in his lap as he peers down at it.
“Dee and I are headed to her grandparents’ after the fair,” he hums. “I shoved it in my pocket because I was planning on returning it tomorrow.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his face. 
“Why?” you dare to ask.
“Because last time I saw the girl I intended to give it to, it was as if she couldn’t even stand to look at me. How could I think I stood a chance after that?”
“Yoongi... what are you talking about?”
He passes you the box. “Open it.”
“I’ve already seen -”
Yoongi pins you with a deadpan look. “I won’t ask twice, Y/N.”
You open the box, and the necklace stares back at you. Even though you’ve seen it before, it’s delicate beauty still steals your breath away. 
“Look inside,” he prompts.
Tentatively, you do as you’re told, snapping open the silver locket with gentle care. It takes a few seconds for your brain to compute the image inside, but when you do, you’re clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the pathetic sound you make. 
There, in the left hand side of the locket, is a picture of you, Yoongi and Dee, snapped by Taehyung shortly after that first skating competition you ever attended. You’re crouching at the side of the rink with your hands on Dee’s shoulders as she holds up her medal, the two of you grinning like idiots. A little further back in the shot Yoongi leans against the railings, his eyes fixated on the pair of you with an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.
Your heart thuds dully when you realise he’s smiling. 
Your gaze shifts over to the inscription on the other side of the locket, written in simplistic cursive.
Because of you, I have something to hold on to.
Abruptly, your vision blurs with fresh tears.
“I don’t understand,” you croak.
Yoongi shrugs, leaning back against the bench. “What is there to understand?” 
“I… When did you even -?”
“Paris.”
You look at him through wet eyes. 
“Paris was three months ago,” you whisper. 
He nods once, decisively. “I figured if I could make it to December without losing my nerve, then the timing would be right.”
You hold each other’s gaze. 
“You want... me?”
“Do you see anyone else here?” 
“But Sofie -”
“Is happily engaged, and came over to the apartment a grand total of once because she was phenomenally behind in her reports and needed the help. I have no interest in her,” he says frankly. “You on, the other hand, are pretty much all I’ve been able to think about for the past year.”
You sniff thickly, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me. I tend to read these things completely wrong, and I don’t want -”
“I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me,” Yoongi states plainly. He nods towards the necklace. “Are you going to put that on at any point or just sit there blubbering over it?”
“Can’t we just have a moment for once?” you sob.
“I’m sorry, what else have we been doing for the past five minutes? All these emotions are exhausting me now. Please just put the necklace on so I can kiss you.”
Your eyebrows tug together pathetically. 
“You want to kiss me?”  
He rolls his eyes. “No not really, I just said that for dramatic effect.”
“Yoongi- mmph!”
You’re cut off when he slides his hands around your waist, tugging you forward to meet his lips. His mouth moves over yours softly, as if you’re something precious, and you practically melt into him. Placing a shy hand on his chest, you shudder as a languid heat seeps through every fibre of your being.
Your mind seems to still as the two of you kiss amidst the frigid night-time, and when you break apart a fraction your mingled breath is warm between you. Then Yoongi’s lips are at the corner of your mouth, and on your cheek, and your jaw, and finally hovering gently by the shell of your ear, causing shivers of anticipation to run through you.
“Listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once,” he whispers. “There is never a time when I don’t want to kiss you. I drive myself crazy just looking at you. You’re simultaneously the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and the stupidest woman I’ve ever known because you have absolutely no idea what you do to me.” You bite down hard on your lip, eyes fluttering closed as he presses you closer against his chest. “You’re all I want, every second of the day. You’re it for me, Y/N.”
You feel overcome. The tears have barely ceased, but already you feel like you might start choking on sobs again. 
Unsure of how else to express how much his words mean to you, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him.
“Say you love me again,” you whisper.
“Do I have to?” he murmurs back, holding you close.
“Yes.”
“I love you.” 
“Again.”
“I love you.”
You hold him tighter, turning your face into his neck. “I love you too.”
“Mm. I think we established that earlier when you were -”
“Don’t think I won’t still throttle you,” you whisper softly against his pulse.
You can’t see it, but this time can practically feel him smiling.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, wrapped up in one another’s embrace as the Heavens open up and a light snow begins to fall, but you can only assume it’s been a while. By the time Dee returns with Mina and Christmas Pikachu, she’s somehow acquired a tub of cotton candy. 
“Why are you crying?” she says through a mouthful of finely-spun sugar, totally nonplussed. 
“Hay fever,” you and Yoongi respond at the same time, quick to extricate yourselves from one another when you realise you’re no longer alone. Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly, his cheeks visibly pink beneath the overhead lights. 
“It’s December,” Dee hums.
Her father pins her with the look. “No one likes a smartass, kid.”
Mina smirks, her eyes flitting shrewdly between the pair of you. 
“All good?” she says.
You and Yoongi steal a shy glance at one another. 
“I think so,” he hums, the corner of his lips curving upwards slightly. 
When he slips his gloved fingers between yours two minutes later, with Dee skipping a few feet ahead of you belting Christmas carols and the cool touch of his locket against your heart, you know without a shadow of a doubt that he was right. This winter miracle - this strange new family you’ve built for yourselves - has finally given you something worth holding on to.
FIN
3K notes · View notes
primofate · 2 months ago
Text
Strength (Part 1) Xiao x fem!reader Please read the warnings and notes :) Angst
Summary: He tries time and time again to warn you that hanging out with a yaksha is not the best decision. When you actually disappear he comes to terms with the unease. Little did he know that there was so much more hiding behind your smile.
Warnings: pining, FAMILY VIOLENCE, dark themes, profanities, abuse, there are only brief mentions of it but I suggest not to read it if you’re not comfortable, one sided love
Notes: I’m still working on everyone’s 2k requests. At the same time, this one is taking really long because I’m not quite happy with it. I’ll also be posting a Gorou angst soon, because I just had a brilliant idea for it :D I’m not tagging anyone into this, because you may or may not be comfortable with the topics here. Be warned. The real angst is in the second chapter, this is only an introduction XD
Read: (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)  (Part 6 - final)
“Xiaoooo!!” You run up the stairs of Wangshu Inn, skipping the steps two by two as you shout the adeptus’ name. At the top floor, looking over the view, Xiao sighs as he hears your voice. He had sensed your presence long before you even called out to him. What was he going to do with such a persistent thing like you?
He turns around just as you arrive at the opening entrance to the rooftop. “What is it now?” You were already used to the glare on his face. He was always like that but he was kind at heart, you knew it well. 
Ever since that day he saved you from some hilichurls--it was really only three of them, hardly something difficult to take care of, but you had no mastery of any weapon and no combat knowledge at all. Just a normal girl who lived in Liyue. Ever since that day, you’d taken a liking to him, perhaps a bit too much, though you only really just checked on him from time to time, and sometimes brought him food that he liked. 
“I got some almond tofu!!!” 
But of course his glare would always falter whenever you brought him food. The almond tofu you made was quite different from the one the chef at Wangshu Inn made. Yours was...there was a certain type of tenderness infused into it, though he can’t quite place why he liked it that little bit more. 
Without saying a word he receives the plate and the spoon that you borrowed from the kitchen, then turned around to look at the view to start eating. Not so much as a “thank you,” on his lips. You smiled though, used to his mannerisms by now and just peered around his face to see that he was relaxed and pleased.
The two of you stood like that for a moment, the act was sort of like a ritual now. “You must like something else other than almond tofu, don’t you, Xiao?” There was silence for a moment and he shook his head. “No,” Simple answer, but his next sentence wasn’t.
“Humans like you...should not closely associate with people like me,” It’s not the first time he’d said it. At first you thought that he was just tired of seeing you every week, but Verr Goldet had said otherwise. That he was a lot more at ease with a friend visiting. No one ever visited him regularly. It was then that you found out that Xiao always had his guard up. He was aware of what his karmic debt could do. 
“...Because you’re a yaksha?” You asked him and he fell silent yet again. “...But humans can be dangerous too...” you whispered. A soft breeze ruffles your hair and you pick your hand up to tuck stray strands of it back behind your ear, looking below at the peaceful ins and outs of the people in Wangshu Inn. 
Xiao turns his head slightly to look at you. Focusing on the sad edges around your eyes. Before he could say anything you’d turned to him and smiled, speaking of what your week consisted of. 
The tense atmosphere melted to that of comfort as you spoke to him. He’d heard many a times about your younger sister, and how you were the one taking care of her. You said that your sister had wanted to visit him too, and Xiao had a distasteful glare on his face at that information, to which you only laughed at. 
“What’s your sister’s name?” He mumbles as you prepare to go back to Liyue Harbor. “Shuyin!” You happily reply. “She’s a little shy, but she’s kind at heart...A little like you, Xiao!” Again with the glare that creeps up on his face, but you know that him asking was enough of a reassurance for you that he did somehow care about what you said.
That night, as you do with other nights, you tell Shuyin about Xiao. With all your stories your little sister must know him the way that you did too. But she was just a child, and you didn’t quite know if she really remembered. As the two of you talked in bed there was a noise at the front door and you shot up in bed immediately. “F-Father’s home early today! I-I forgot,” and just like that your sister’s face turns grave, as do yours. 
You scramble towards the kitchen, and there’s a loud screech from your father pulling the chair away from the dining table. “Where’s the food?” You could hear him from the living area. “I’m preparing it, father, sorry, I’ve forgotten your schedule today--”
“Fucking useless bitch!” 
He sweeps the table with his arm, the vase of flowers toppling over and rolling to the ground with a resounding crash. The chair screeches again and he’s walking towards the kitchen. 
Where you are. 
Where you’re turned away from him. 
Where you hope that, if you don’t meet his eyes, he’ll forgive you this once.
Better be me than Shuyin, you always thought.
He doesn’t forgive you this once. 
As he doesn’t with the other nights. 
Sometimes he doesn’t need a reason.
The next day, there’s a bruise forming on your reddened cheek...and so it takes one week for it to heal. For it to look normal. 
For you to be able to visit Xiao again, with a smile on your face.
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izukulus · 7 months ago
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— NICKNAMES !
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featuring: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tenya iida, hitoshi shinsou, ochaco uraraka, momo yaoyorozu, kyoka jirou, hatsume mei, mina ashido, tamaki amajiki, nejire hado, togata mirio, camie utsushimi, toga himiko, dabi.
summary: nicknames ur bnha s/o calls you. completely ib @/elysianslove
warnings: light cursing !!
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— BABY
izuku, butttt only once he's super comfy around you. he's kinda nervous about using anything but your surname even after you start dating, so you're gonna have to initiate using pet names casually!! he's pretty traditional, though, and he has a habit of calling you 'baby' when he's all sleepy and clingy after a long day omg. just slumps in your arms, eyes fluttering closed and mumbles, "hey baby," into your neck <333 likes being called baby more than he likes calling you it, if you call him baby n cup his face he'll melt.
katsuki calls you 'babe'. it's casual and not overly sappy or sweet, so i think he'd use it pretty liberally. i don't think he'd be into those overly romantic nicknames, both using them and being called them, so he likes something straight to the point - and more importantly, something that tells everyone under no uncertain terms that you're his, even if he's not going out of his way to call you a ton of nicknames, y'know?
denki uses both 'baby' and 'babe' abundantly, they're definitely definitely his favourite nicknames to use more casually. he'll try n get under your nerves by using a ton of sick-sweet pet names, too, like honeybunches and sweetcheeks, but he's kinda a traditionalist at heart. definitely can picture him all pouty and whining out, "but baaaaabe!" if things aren't going his way.
eijirou is a classic 'babe' man if you ask me. it's traditional, sweet, slightly possessive, which pretty much sums him up to a 't'. he just slips into it like right after you start dating and doesn't even question it, makes it sound so natural :) the type where if you compliment him (which you should, regularly) he'll get this giddy lil grin and scratch the back of his neck and be all "aw, thanks babe!" protect him.
sero will sidle up to you with the laziest smile on his face and just drape himself over you light he weighs nothing. "morning babe," he'd say super casually whilst his thumb makes monotonous circles on your shoulder. does he know that his proximity is flustering you? you'll literally never know. pecks you on the head and saunters off like the menace he is.
mina is a huge user of both 'babe' and 'baby'!! i think she's super clingy so she'll just drape herself over you and kiss you silly, murmuring "missed you, baby!" into your skin as you squirm and laugh, and she's giggling as she does it and jsjdefuif she's so cute :') and she totally calls you 'babe' really proudly when you do something cool like she's showing you off - "nice one, babe!"
camie loves to call you 'babe' are you kidding. this nickname was made for her. achieves two things, she gets to show you off AND everyone around you now knows you are hers. she's kinda possessive in public so always has an arm around you i think, or at the very least holding hands. she'll call you 'babe' multiple times in one sentence, especially when she gets excited about something.
dabi is super into the casualness of it. drops a 'babe' like it's your first name or smth smh. probably calls you nicknames more than your actual name because he's scared of intimacy or whatever. he's so cocky with it too, gets this lazy lil smile and side-eyes you as he says it, "babe, c'mere for a second."
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— LOVE
shoto absolutely adores this nickname pLEASE :(( he knows objectively like, people call their significant others by nicknames but none of the rlly popular ones feel right - they all feel tacky and sleazy and shoto's a romantic at heart. im pushing my shoto reads and enjoys shoujo manga agenda! he gets a lot of ideas from that. some of them pan out rlly well and many of them do not - but one day he just calls you 'love' or 'my love' like he's testing it out and he decides he loves how it sounds. it's a lil old-fashioned maybe but it suits him really well. gets a proud smile on his face whenever he calls you it, too <3
no thoughts just momo casually calling you 'my love' whilst her eyes shine in adoration ugh,, but in the same vein as shoto, she loves the traditionalism of it. i think although she's a practical person she's absolutely a sappy romantic at heart, for sure cries over romantic dramas even if she knows they're beneath her. she's so extravagant with her love because she needs you to know how much she adores you and pls pls why isn't she real.
nejire so sweetly dropping a "thank you my love!" one afternoon completely unannounced when you make her tea and nothing's been the same since. she's a super touchy person in general but it's dialled up to eleven if you're her s/o, she's just clinging to you and literally pulling you down to the ground, but she's singing that you're her love in that beautiful lilting voice of hers so you kinda just. let her. there are far worse things to be that nejire hado's love.
iida are you kidding?? it's just about formal enough for him to not be embarrassed to call you it in public - just 'love' though, the 'my' is too much of a commitment apparently?? but still, he's very sweet and earnest when he calls you 'love', you can see the ingenuity shining in his eyes just - he really does love you, he just struggles finding nicknames that don't feel awkward and tacky.
tamaki would get used to this after a while. he's absolutely not into melodramatic nicknames, not being called them or calling you them, they just make his skin crawl if he tries to force them out. 'love' is pretty low-brow so he can say it without getting flustered. his head turns to absolute mush if you call him 'my love' back tho, he'll literally whine in embarrassment and hide his face in your neck. baby :')
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— HONEY
this is izuku all over!! it's such a mix of sweet/sappy and traditional, a little childish but overall just super romantic and endearing :') his favourite nickname for sure. he was so happy when he realised he'd kinda just been calling you that and it had stuck because he'd been actually struggling to find a nickname that you liked that didn't stick awkwardly in his mouth and to think he hadn't even realised when the perfect one came up!! in conclusion, izuku loves his honey. gets such a pleased little smile when he says it, too.
i could see mirio going in for this nickname. kinda sweet, kinda traditional, kinda sappy - mirio all over i think. maybe a little less sincerely than izuku uses it, though. he probably says it in a more teasing way, he's not mean, just likes making you flustered occasionally. the type of mf to hold something over your head bc he's like eight foot seven and act all clueless, grinning like an idiot - "oh, you wanted this, honey?"
toga. hear me out. i think because she has such a whacked-out idea of what love it, she really goes in for these kind of sick-sweet nicknames. loves the dramatic stuff, too - 'my angel' is another frequent one because you literally are an angel to her. if you call her sweet nicknames back she might actually break. chaotic little gremlin just wants to be loved </3
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— SWEETHEART
ochaco's go-to nickname for sure. she loves showing how much she loves you, she just !! gets really nervous about doing it. i think she's never really sure of where she stands with you because she overthinks a lot so she's really hesitant to use nicknames in the beginning, but sweetheart is one that's casual enough for it not to fluster her and just kinda sticks. also loves to be called sweetheart in return and will get all shy and start floating away. 10/10 would fluster again.
shoto again with the classic romantic monikers. it's another one that feels very casual for him to say, one he doesn't stumble over, especially in the mornings when he's tired and clingy with hair falling in his face, pulling you back to bed with a lil pout. "five more minutes, sweetheart?" he mumbles into the bed, and yeah, how are you gonna resist that? that's right, you're not, get your ass back into bed.
toga is really into the aesthetic of like, 50s sweethearts. thinks a couple being called sweethearts is just about the cutest thing on earth and will refuse to call you her significant other, she literally just introduces you as her sweetheart. "this is my sweetheart, y/n! you're not allowed to look at them 😄."
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— SWEETS
hitoshi likes this a lot i think because he can say it both sincerely and in that annoying teasing way of his. yknow the way. flat stare like he's so uninterested but he's definitely smirking to himself, letting the condescending little nickname hang in the air. still tho, he does like to use it when he's being sincere because he kinda struggles putting his emotions into words so 'sweets' sums it up nice and neat for him! definitely calls you this when you do anything for him, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple and mumbling into your hairline - "thanks, sweets."
mirio's more sincere nickname for you, the one he uses when he trails over to you after a looong day and drops his head in the crook of your neck, slumping boneless against your body. "'m so tired, sweets," he'd mumble into your collarbone, already-half asleep, and when you go to draw a bath for him and run your fingers through his hair as the tub fills, he'll be watching slackly, eyes glassy and mouth parted with quiet, shining adoration.
mina absolutely pinches your cheek and calls you 'sweets' to fluster you. the type to randomly grab and pinch you fully in public exclaiming about how cute you are, beaming as her hands cup your face and pull you toward her excitedly. if she thinks you're being particularly adorable, she'll croon, "awww, sweets! you're so cute." meanwhile you don't even know what you did. just standing there like 😃❓.
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— OTHER / MISC
hatsume calls you a silly goose and doesn't understand why you protest to it 😐. she comes up with the weirdest fuckin nicknames for you, like naming you after the actual tools from her lab or comparing you to the equipment in there. she cute tho.
katsuki calls you a colourful arraignment of insults - dumbass, idiot, shitty woman/man/person. will make creative nicknames out of your features, too, so do not be hanging around this man if you're insecure. he means well tho i'm sure.
jirou is a soft flustered tsundere. katsuku lite. she calls you idiot or dumbass a lot, especially when confronted with a lot of affection. she'll start sputtering and her hands will twitch and she'll just snarl out, "whatever. idiot." she's so cute lemme hug her already <3
do you guys fuck with latin!sero? umm him giving his partner spanish nicknames yeah. i'm not going to embarrass myself by pretending i passed my spanish exam but he for sure give you romantic nicknames in spanish under his breath and when you ask what they mean he just shrugs, winks and taps his nose. an absolute menace.
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opalesense · 8 months ago
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dinners at diluc’s
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kaeya & f!reader & diluc (NSFW)
5.5k words • ~40 min. read
summary: after lightheartedly joking about a threesome for the past few weeks, a drunken kaeya decides to shamelessly suggest that diluc should join in on all the fun.
warnings: alcohol, facefucking, double penetration, bondage, overstimulation, big dicked duo !!
notes: reader is in a relationship with kaeya before all this (kind of a sequel to this!) and thank you so much for 100 followers! i hope you enjoy this as a token of my appreciation <3
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DINNERS AT DILUC’S MANOR used to be as rare as a sighting of a dragon in Mondstadt. Though, over the past few months, Diluc and Kaeya have been slowly rebuilding their previously severed bonds over weekly meals together in an effort to achieve some sort of reconciliation. It was mostly my idea, but I’m sure after all these years of unforgiving distance, they were secretly grateful I was the one to finally push them towards reunion. With the strong sense of pride and swelled ego they shared, they wouldn’t outwardly show it, of course.
 Despite the good progress they were finally making now, I won’t forget that it started as a painstaking process.
 At first, the meals were tense and rather snappy, the boys sarcastically ganging up on me for forcing them into a room together when they “clearly had nothing to say to each other,” as Diluc remarked during the first dinner. Kaeya had agreed with silence, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, impatiently waiting for the night to be over. All I could do was sigh and pray things would get better from there.
 But now Kaeya had a drink in his hand, one that was made personally by Diluc despite having kitchen staff who could’ve done it for him. The brothers were riding waves of laughter, reminiscing on good memories and inside jokes with grins planted on both of their faces. They bounced stories off of each other as if they were completing each other’s thoughts, their minds so in sync – just like they used to be when they were growing up together.
 My heart fluttered to see a look of genuine happiness on Kaeya’s face. I could tell he’s been wanting a moment like this, a moment to truly reconnect with his only family, for a long time. And one glance at Diluc told me he was thoroughly enjoying the night as well, his smile breaking the usual stoic façade he upheld. So even after the meal was already finished and the staff had cleared the table then went to their quarters for the night, I sat and listened to their stories despite being unable to contribute anything to the conversation. Even though it was getting late, how could I possibly interrupt this rare moment?
 Then Kaeya had swiftly downed his drink. So he asked for another. And another. Then we collectively moved from the dining room to the living room to warm up by the fireplace. Kaeya asked for another drink. Then one more.
 “Kaeya, don’t you think that’s enough to drink for tonight? We still have to walk home,” I gently reminded him, feeling bad for interrupting the conversation so suddenly. But it was getting extremely late. I was getting extremely tired and cranky for sitting around and doing nothing for the past few hours but mindlessly listen to the men talk.
 “I’m having so much fun, sweetheart. Just one more?” he teased me by making puppy eyes at me, “Please~?”
 “Kaeya...”
 “No need to worry about him, [Y/N],” Diluc politely waved off my request, “I could always walk you guys home – it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to drag him along after a night of drinking. Or better yet, you two can stay in the guest bed upstairs then return home tomorrow morning when he’s sobered up.”
 I placed a hand on Kaeya’s arm. “Would that be okay with you? If we spend the night in his guest bed? I’m rather exhausted.”
 “Guest bed? Why don’t we just spend the night in Diluc’s bed!” Kaeya’s words began slurring as he giggled, “Maybe we can have that lil’ threesome we’ve been talking about.”
 My mind snapped awake immediately, eyes widening as I nervously glanced to Diluc who also had his jaw slightly dropped in shock. “K-Kaeya, you really must watch what you’re saying–“
 “Aw, don’t act all shy now, sweetheart!” He took his eyes off of me to face Diluc, who was now clearly perplexed. I sat perplexed as well, unsure of how I was going to come up with an excuse for what he said. Because it was true. We had been lightheartedly talking about having a threesome lately. But mentioning it to Diluc of all people on such a wholesome night like this made my heart quickly sink. He must be appalled.
 “Diluc, I’m so sorry, you know he says too much when he’s drunk-“
 “No, no, but it’s true! ‘Luc, you wouldn’t believe how much we’ve been talking about fuckin’ around with an extra... fuckin’...” Kaeya’s face began to soften at the realization of his actions as his gaze turned to the floor. “Oh... shit.”
 The three of us sat to process what had just happened for a moment, the firewood softly crackling to fill the silence. I didn’t know if I was feeling embarassment, awkwardness, anxiety, or all of it at the same time. All I knew was that for some twisted reason, the sudden mention of our fantasy out loud to Diluc made my thighs slightly twitch in excitement without thinking. How in the world did I just get aroused? I internally shamed myself.
 Diluc was the first to break the silence. “So... how long have you been thinking about this again?”
 “Diluc!” I snapped at him, not wanting him to encourage the thought. But one look at him and I could tell he was dead serious about the matter. Embarassment definitely kicked in now through a blush that quickly crept up to my cheeks. Are we really going to discuss this right now?
 Kaeya took a slow sip of his drink, finally putting some thought into what he was going to say. But just as I hoped he was going to take this opportunity to dismiss the topic entirely, to my dismay, he quickly muttered, “A few weeks now.”
 “Kaeya!” I smacked his arm lightly. My body shrunk into the sofa in disbelief. But my thoughts were racing along with my heartbeat. Diluc seemed to express genuine interest immediately after the initial period of shock. It was almost as if he had been thinking about it lately too. I couldn’t help but imagine the things that these two could do to me, or imagine specifically what Diluc was thinking about doing with us to be interested in the first place. Even though I hated to admit it, jolts of excitement started to tickle my nerves throughout my entire body but I didn’t dare show it. I can’t believe this is conversation is actually happening. I can’t believe we could actually do this.
 Diluc leaned back into his chair with a content hum. “If you’re seriously offering... I can’t say I would be opposed to the idea.”
 “Now that’s my man!” Kaeya excitedly pointed to Diluc, who then slyly chuckled in response. Kaeya exchanged glances between me and Diluc a few times before finally settling on Diluc. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”
 “Are you actually serious?”
 “Tell him, [Y/N], am I being serious?” Kaeya poked my leg, which elicited another twitch at the sudden touch. I looked up at him dumbfoundedly, failing to find words when I was getting embarassingly aroused. “I don’t think I’ve been more serious about something in my life, brother!”
 “I can’t believe the two of you right now,” I scoffed as I stood up, snapping myself out of the fantasies bubbling in my head. There was no way we would actually do it, after all, the brothers were getting along but not that closely. “Diluc, can you show me to the guest room, please? I’ll go to bed while the two of you joke about this convulted fantasy.”
 “Joke? C’mon, sweetheart! You know we’ve been talking about it!” Kaeya stood up to follow me to the main floor of the manor with Diluc trailing along, “Don’t play innocent just because Diluc’s around.”
 The three of us climbed the stairs, the two brothers still trailing behind. “It’ll be the last room down the hall once you turn left,” Diluc directed me. Kaeya hummed in what sounded like satisfaction.
 “Just look at that ass, ‘Luc. You know, you can touch her if you want, I wouldn’t mind,” I immediately turned around once I heard Kaeya mutter those words and glared at him. They both stopped in their tracks at the same time, Kaeya returning a stare more intimidating than mine and Diluc’s eyes trailing to the floor. I felt so small under the lust in his sapphire eyes, which were staring me down with a craving to touch me.
 “Listen, sweetheart, I know you’re being a brat right now but once we get our hands on you...” he stepped close enough to place his gloved hand on my thigh, shooting a chill up my spine and causing my thighs to squeeze together. I didn’t want to let him know that I wasn’t entirely opposed to this idea either but my body couldn’t control itself. My core was secretly craving his touch. He noticed my subtle reaction and let out a low chuckle.
 “Ah, I can tell you’re excited. Just keep walking, baby. You can drop that innocent act now and show Diluc how much of a slut you can be, okay? Can you do that for me?”
 I didn’t have the energy to hide it anymore, let alone answer him with words. I let my lips quiver as I turned back around, taking a few more steps up the stairs then walking down the hall while the brothers exchanged inaudible whispers with each other, presumably about me. My instincts told me they were plotting behind my back but they were so quiet that I couldn’t make out any real words. Before my hand could reach for the doorknob, Kaeya’s arm got ahead of me and gripped the knob himself. “Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”
 He opened the door and walked inside first. The room was surprisingly larger than I expected for a guest room. A large bed sat near the wall and with a glance to the side I could see it faced a large vanity. The rest of the room consisted of a warddrobe, drawers, a seating area, and a bookshelf.
 “This used to be my room, you know,” Kaeya pivoted his heels to face me while placing his drink down on top of one of the nearby drawers. “Diluc picked a good room for us. Hopefully it’s just how I left it.”
 “It should be,” Diluc followed close behind as I stepped forward to get a better look of the space. “I never asked any of the staff to touch this room aside from the occasional dusting and I don’t get many visitors who need to spend the night.”
 “Perfect,” Kaeya smirked. That grin usually indicated he was plotting something. My stomach was a mess of excitement, curiosity, and anxiety at the same time. Was this really happening?
 He knelt down to pull out the bottom drawer in front of him and rummaged through his belongings to pull out a bundle of something, though I couldn’t tell exactly what it was from the dim lighting of the room. “Just as I had hoped.”
 He hid the item behind his back as he stood up and took a step towards me, gently planting a kiss on my forehead. He then began to shower my face with kisses, wrapping his arms around me in a cute embrace and making me giggle. Just as I was about to push him away in jest, he simply said two words that made my heart stop. “Now, Diluc.”
 Before I could react or comprehend what was going on, Diluc had pressed his hips against mine with a grip on my waist while Kaeya squeezed me harder in our seemingly sweet hug, knocking a bit of wind out of me. Kaeya, despite being unbelievably drunk, still had an inescapable strength as he managed to pull both my arms down while keeping me in his embrace. My panicked eyes looked up at Kaeya’s face, which was focused on my arms now being pinned behind my back. Once I felt rope being looped around my forearms, I knew exactly what was about to happen.
 “Be a good girl for Master Diluc, okay sweetheart? I’m going to get another drink,” Kaeya loosened his grip on me and gave me another kiss on the cheek. “You want to do this, right?”
 I hated to admit it, but I shyly nodded yes. Kaeya smiled contently. “You can trust him. Everything he’s going to do is part of our plan. We’re going to have fun tonight, okay?”
 And with that, Diluc finished tying my folded arms together as Kaeya walked out the door. Before I could form a thought, Diluc held my waist to slowly guide me to sit at the edge of the bed, pressing his bulge against me throughout each step and kissing my bare neck. He then turned me around and planted a knee between my thighs into the mattress, slowly laying me down then beginning to unbutton my blouse as he continued licking and nibbling my skin. I breathily moaned at the excitement and nervousness of a man other than Kaeya touching me so calmly, so naturally. Diluc pulled the tucked in fabric up once it was unbuttoned to reveal my bare torso in its entirety, letting out a low growl at the sight. The excitement burned inside my core and I couldn’t help but gently grind against his clothed knee for some stimulation.
 He took notice of this and responded by pressing his knee deeper into my aching core which was so much more forgiving than what Kaeya would have done if I wanted to grind against his leg. Diluc trailed the kisses up towards my jawline, stopping just an inch away from my lips and muttering, “Do you care about this blouse?”
 “Rip it off,” I mindlessly whispered, not wanting to go through the trouble of getting untied for my blouse to come off. I craved touch, it could be from anyone at this point, but I needed to feel hands on my skin. Diluc made quick work of the insignificant piece if clothing, ripping it apart as if it were a piece of paper then tossing it onto the floor. He tossed his gloves along with it, my exposed skin suddenly meeting his warm touch as he caressed my sides and continued to kiss my neck, definitely leaving marks at this point. I sighed at his warmth, a stark contrast to Kaeya’s cold touch. Albeit, Kaeya always loved to use his vision to tease me, and maybe Diluc was doing the same thing here.
 “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Kaeya stepped into the room and walked towards us.
 “She’s gorgeous, Kaeya. Seriously, you found yourself a keeper,” Diluc paused his kisses to respond, never breaking eye contact with me, “You better treat her well, otherwise I might want to steal her away for myself.”
 “Ha! In your dreams. I’ll let you play with her all you want but in the end, she’s mine, dear brother.”
 Diluc scoffed lightheartedly and placed his hands on my back to lift me up, fully releasing my neck from his kisses as Kaeya waved a glass in front of me. “Now drink up, sweetheart.”
 “What is it?” I looked up at him expectedly.
 “It’ll make things easier for you later. Make sure to drink every last drop,” he gave out a short laugh, “That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve told you that in the bedroom, huh?”
 I scoffed at the suggestive joke and wrapped my lips around the edge of the glass. It was some kind of concoction that I couldn’t exactly recognize, but there was definitely hard liquor in it. I connected the dots and figured he probably had something planned where he wanted me to drink something strong to chase away whatever pain he was going to inflict on me tonight. My legs trembled with excitement at the thought, wondering what the two had planned for me behind my back.
 With each sip, Diluc worked on unbuckling my pants to reveal my half naked body, which was now completely surrendered to the two brothers who were also unbuttoning their own shirts without taking their eyes off of me. Kaeya finished first, having his top already halfway unbuttoned anyway, and reached down to strip me of my underwear. Resuming from where Diluc had left off, he leaned down to leave marks on my neck as well, his kisses being more sloppy and aggressive than sensual like his brother’s. Small pants escaped my mouth as his teeth nibbled down at the spots that were already slightly bruised, but he didn’t seem to care and only bit down harder knowing I was sensitive.
 But his passionate kisses on my fragile skin were only fleeting moments, and after one quick peck on the lips and a smirk, he climbed off of me to reveal a half naked Diluc tying his long hair up into a ponytail. Diluc’s messy red locks couldn’t distract me from his hungry stare. He eyed me down with such intensity, never breaking eye contact despite turning his head from side to side to gather all his hair into a bundle. My eyes darted to Kaeya, who had began unbuckling his pants and was also observing my body with pure lust in his eyes. I couldn’t help but trail my gaze down towards their hips, and in the soft moonlight, I could see their bulges creating large tents in their underwear, aching and yearning for me. I could’ve drooled at the sight of their bulky erections if my mouth wasn’t closed shut from nervousness. My core lit up with butterflies, wanting them now more than ever.
 My thoughts were interrupted by Diluc climbing onto the mattress next to me then swiftly grabbing me to turn me all the way around so my head conveniently hung off the edge of the bed. I let out a soft giggle at how he manhandled me, how he had lifted me and gently threw me on the mattress like I was dead weight. He must’ve noticed that I liked what he did because as he positioned his head near my throbbing folds and pinned my thighs up with both his hands, he gave a quiet chuckle to himself not long before wrapping his lips around my clit and gently sucking.
 I gasped at the sudden warmth but shock quickly turned into pleasure as Diluc’s hot tongue lapped at my wetness, making me flinch and arch my back at the sensation. I instinctively tried to pin my thighs back together in an effort to try and keep the tiny amount of pride I had, but Diluc was quick to shoot a dominant glare at me while he pushed my legs back apart. If anything, the subtle act of defiance only made him hungrier for me, his movements getting a little more aggressive and passionate. My sighs and moans of bliss made the redhead happily groan back in response, the simultaneous buzzing of his lips against my saliva coated cunt causing my brain to malfunction. I couldn’t think anymore and it had only been about a minute or so. I was in heaven.
 I looked up to Kaeya for reassurance that I was still in Teyvat as he hovered above me, stroking his cock in front of my face and looking down at me with a devilish smirk. “You should really give me a few pointers, ‘Luc. She’s going crazy over you.”
 Diluc kissed my clit before responding. “Have you ever considered learning how to properly please a woman instead of selfishly chasing your own needs?”
 “And have you ever considered sleeping with girls other than your maids?”
 “Fuck off,” Diluc’s warm breath against my entrance as he sarcastically laughed had me lean into his touch even more. “You know that’s not true.”
 His mouth latched onto my clit again, and as if it couldn’t feel any better, he managed to snake two fingers into my entrance while he sucked on my clit, his long digits teasing my walls by slowly scissoring my insides. If Kaeya weren’t a sucker for orgasm denial and hadn’t trained me to hold back my releases for months, I surely would have broken under Diluc’s touch by now.
 “Alright, don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” Kaeya reached out to caress my cheek with his thumb, “Let’s show Diluc how pretty you look with a bulge in your throat.”
 “Yes, sir,” I mindlessly muttered and eagerly opened my mouth, earning a grin from Kaeya. He placed his hands on both sides of my jaw, chuckling as he rested the underside of his cock on top of my face, thinking about how it managed to in my throat when it was bigger than my head. My breath stuttered as Diluc’s tongue kept trying to grab my attention but Kaeya’s thickness always seemed to captivate me no matter how many times I saw it.
 “Very good girl,” he then guided his tip to meet my tongue and let out a low growl while he slowly pushed his entire length into my throat inch by inch. “My good little girl...”
 He wasted no time to fuck my throat as if my head were his toy, his fingers digging into my jaw with each groan that escaped his lips. At times Diluc would suddenly curl his fingers inside me causing me to moan in surprise, which then made Kaeya twitch in ecstacy as the vibrations in my throat clenched tighter around his cock.
 The feeling of being touched by two men at once made my insides burn like a wick fighting for its life at the bottom of a candle. My senses were overloaded as I tried to focus on one aspect of what was going on, darting between sensations as if I couldn’t decide what to pay attention to. Maybe Kaeya’s hands gripping my teary eyed face. Diluc’s fingers prodding my walls. Kaeya’s grunts and groans filling up the room. Diluc’s hot breath panting for air against my folds. Everything that led up to this moment was completely blocked out of my mind and I could think about was how restlessly aroused I was. The brothers’ movements became more merciless and the more I tried to hold back my release, the more it fought back. I found my legs gradually tensing up and my moans becoming more and more desperate to the point where I was dangerously on the edge.
 “Diluc, stop,” Kaeya quickly pulled himself out of my mouth and despite his initial hesitation, Diluc gave my clit one more kiss and pulled his head away to sit up straight. I was a coughing mess when I finally took a deep breath from suffocating for the past few minutes, and as a sign of mercy, Kaeya gently lifted my head to allow better airflow into my throat.
 Despite coughing my organs out, my legs shook violently as I still tried to hold back my release. I whined and wanted to scream in frustration at the denial of my climax, the ropes around my arms and Diluc’s hands pinning me down preventing me from getting up to stimulate myself a little more. Kaeya only laughed sadistically.
 “I knew it. You got a little close there, didn’t you, princess?” he teased. I groaned impatiently as my eyes were glued to his cock, which I noticed had strings of saliva still attached to my face. The drool all over his length only made him smirk, and it made Diluc sigh in envy.
 “P-Please,” I could barely think of words as my body trembled in pleasure, “M-More...”
 Kaeya’s laughter subsided as he caressed my cheek lovingly. “Tell us what you want, baby. Use your words.”
 “M-More...” more tears swelled up in my eyes as I struggled to come up with proper words or coherent thoughts, “K-Kaeya...”
 “Yes, princess?” Kaeya gently reached under me to lift my torso up and Diluc leaned over to help guide my shaking body until I was sitting up with my back leaning against Kaeya, my thighs still pried apart to prevent me from pleasuring myself. Kaeya climbed into the spot behind me while Diluc comfortably sat in front of me, staring at my body as if he were in a trance.
 “I...” the strength in my voice was faltering as I tried to form a sentence, “need you both...”
 “Poor thing. The alcohol must be kicking in,” Diluc placed one hand on the side of my thigh, gently massaging the spot and exchanging looks with Kaeya, who hummed in approval behind me. Kaeya’s hands ran up my from my waist to my shoulders where he began massaging my tenseness away.
 “Just relax now, princess. We’ll take good care of you, okay?”
 “Okay...” I whimpered innocently as I leaned into their massages, taking deep breaths while I bathed in their attention under the moonlight.
 Time always seemed to pass differently when I had a drink. In one moment, the brothers were massaging me to calm me down from edging, and in the blink of an eye, Diluc was pulling me down on top of his chest, kissing my neck softly like he did before. In another blink of an eye, my eyes stared into my reflection from the vanity across the bed to see that my thighs were bound together with rope and Kaeya was leaning over my back, whispering into my ear.
 “Can you tell us what you want now, princess?” he rubbed his cock to spread my wetness to my butthole and I could feel Diluc’s cock radiating heat as it was pressed against my stomach.
 As if the words travelled out on their own, I found my lips muttering, “I want to get stuffed full...”
 And as if the brothers were magical beings that could grant wishes on command, they were strategic and patient when they pushed themselves inside me. Diluc’s hands first pushed me down onto his cock. Each thick inch slowly stretched me out and my eyes widened once I felt his tip finally kiss my cervix. With a sigh of relief and a quivering breath, I planted my cheek into his chest at his sheer size alone, and just when I thought I had settled down comfortably, Kaeya had positioned himself behind me and slowly pushed himself into my other hole. Even though I imagined the pain of having two cocks penetrate me at the same time would be excruciating, the feeling was extraordinary, making me pant like a dog in heat. I subconsciously thanked Kaeya for giving me that drink earlier, knowing their large sizes would have painfully split me open otherwise.
 “Look at yourself in the mirror,” Kaeya groaned as he buried himself as deep as possible. My reflection was all I could stare at. I could clearly see every detail of the sticky situation I was in and I loved every inch of the sight. My attention darted around once again. Diluc’s hands gripping my ass, his knuckles going white with his strong hold on me. Kaeya’s soft hair draping down on me and Diluc, his muscles illuminated by the moon. Diluc’s eyebrows furrowed with his eyes completely closed, breathing heavily at the tight fit. Kaeya’s sapphire eyes staring right back at me, studying every part of this scene just like I was.
 “Don’t hold yourself back this time. Cum all over Master Diluc’s cock for me, okay princess?”
 And with that, he leaned back up, stabilized himself by holding my waist, and began fucking me steadily. Diluc followed suit, keeping his grip on me to fuck my soaking cunt as if he were waiting for this moment his entire life.
 It took awhile for me to process what I was feeling at first. My brain was fully expecting pain, but once I realized I was going to cum after only a few thrusts in, I completely lost control.
 “F-Fuck!” I yelped into Diluc’s chest as I watched the brothers pound into me in the damned mirror, “M-Master!”
 “Which one, baby?” Kaeya teased, earning a slight chuckle from Diluc. I moaned uncontrollably in response, my voice shaking with the way my body was being rocked by the two men who started at different rhythms at first but synced up each thrust moments later.
 “K-Kaeya! Diluc!” I sighed mindlessly, earning grunts from the two of them. They always seemed to be teasing me with chuckles, acting so nonchalant as if they weren’t fucking my brains out at the same time.
 An orgasm immediately hit me like a wave without any warning and I failed to hold back the loud moan that escaped my sore throat. If my legs weren’t tied right now, I would’ve definitely been shaking uncontrollably, but even now my abdomen violently curled up as I rode the waves of my climax. But the two didn’t care. They took my moment of weakness to fuck into me even harder, silently agreeing to pick up the pace and torture me in the best way.
 “Good girl,” Diluc whispered into my ear, clearly picking up the pet name from his brother. “Tightening around me like that... you really are such a good girl.”
 “I felt it too,” Kaeya groaned out, “Can you cum for us again, princess? You’re being such a good slut for us, you know that?”
 “I’m... I’m a good slut...”
 “Then cum for us again,” Diluc’s voice was almost demanding, his movements getting more desperate and sloppy as he started to take a little more dominance in speed over Kaeya, craving the sensation that I gave to him once more. “Cum on my cock, [Y/N].”
 Kaeya ganged up onto the intensity by leaning his chest over my back again, propping himself up with one hand and grabbing a fistful of my hair with the other, making me choke on my own air. “Don’t make him tell you twice, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”
 I had managed to reach my climax again shortly after, panting and trembling as I was cutely sandwiched between the two. As the two groaned at the sensation, they asked for another a few minutes after. And another. Then we collectively switched places so Kaeya could feel me cum around his cock. Kaeya asked for another orgasm. Then one more.
 “I c-can’t fucking take it anymore...!” I screamed into his chest, overstimulated and almost writhing in pain. “P-Please s-stop!”
 The brothers that I knew were long gone by now. Now they were simply horny messes chasing after their own pleasure, edging themselves and using my body as their toy, teasing that the night would be over soon then immediately asking me to cum more. They endlessly praised me about how my body felt so good, how tight the fit was, and how sweet my moans were. And despite the aching pain in my core, I secretly didn’t want this sensation to end either. But alas, all good things come to an end, and Diluc was the first to break.
 “F-Fuck,” he grunted weakly, “I can’t hold it anymore, I’m going to...!”
 “Cum in me,” I panted out, “Fill me with cum, please, Master Diluc...!”
 With a loud groan and a cry of pleasure, Diluc’s thick load had slowly surged through my insides, his cock throbbing with each pump of cum he dumped into my abused asshole. My tongue fell out of my mouth at the sensation of Kaeya still sloppily pounding my cunt while Diluc’s movements slowed until he finally came to a complete stop, his cock still firmly buried to hold his cum inside. Kaeya took this opportunity of having me all to himself to reach a hand to the back of my neck and pull me down for a kiss before finally releasing his seed in me as well, coating my slick covered walls with his seemingly endless loads of cum. Even when his movements began to slow to a stop as well, he continued to kiss me sweetly, sneaking in small smiles here and there before pulling away to press his sweat covered forehead against mine.
 “You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered proudly, “You’re so perfect, filled with our cum like a good slut.”
 I let out a weak laugh, wiggling my hips gently while the two were still stuffed inside of me. “I feel so good... I’m really filled with cum...” I happily grinned, giggling as I softly cuddled against Kaeya’s forehead.
 “You sure are, cutie.”
 The three of us stayed comfortably in this position for a few moments, taking in the afterglow of such a celestial feeling of finally reaching our climaxes. Our tired pants echoed throughout the room, sweat trickling down our faces and my tears slowly subsiding as Kaeya massaged my scalp and showered my face in more kisses. Diluc let out a deep breath before slowly pulling himself out of me and climbing off of the bed. He started to pick up his clothes from the floor, his eyes glancing at the way his cum slowly trickled down from my hole. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I could practically envision his stupid smug grin forming when he finally decided to say something to us.
 “Can I expect you two for ‘dinner’ sometime again soon?”
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frogtanii · 9 months ago
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“alright everyone, thank you for sticking around. please take care of yourselves and i’ll see you next time.” with a fake smile and a couple of clicks, kenma’s stream was turned off and computer powered down.
he let out a deep sigh before looking at the clock. it read 7:23am. he’d streamed all night. again. kuroo was going to have his head.
standing up with a groan, kenma ruffled his hair and adjusted his hoodie before making his way to the kitchen for an early morning drink before going to sleep for the rest of the day.
he shuffled along the wooden floors, his fuzzy kitty socks making little to no noise as he made his way to the five-star kitchen iwaizumi had managed to get for them.
kenma was a little confused as to who the kitchen was for — sure osamu used it for his videos but most nights, the house members ordered out or meiko cooked them a big dinner.
granted, he’d never actually seen meiko cook anything before but she took credit for it every time and she had no reason to lie. she was just that kind.
just the thought of meiko brought a small smile to kenma’s face. she was the one person who he felt understood him and cared for him like no other. she cleaned the house, she cooked for everyone, and she wasn’t stingy with her love.
although kenma was never one who liked sharing, he was willing to try for her. the others were equally enamored with meiko, willing to do almost anything for her and he didn’t blame them. the only thing was, he hadn’t hung out with her in so long and judging by the murmurs throughout the house, no one else had either.
oh well. he just needed to get her alone and ask if she wanted to watch him stream. he would ask if she wanted to actually play with him but she hated video games and would throw a fit if he asked so instead he would play and she would sit on his bed on her phone.
as much as kenma would’ve liked for his s/o to have something in common with him, he knew beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers — meiko reminded him of that fact every time he bothered requesting that they did something he wanted to do for date night.
the more his mind raced, the further his smile dropped as his eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. he knew she was busy but would it kill her to spend just a little time with him? was he really that disgusting? that repulsive?
kenma was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of atsumu’s loud voice echoing throughout the kitchen. his golden eyes narrowed in suspicion — atsumu was never up early unless he was planning a prank which immediately put kenma on defense.
that was until he heard a light snort coming from room that he knew couldn’t have come from anyone but you.
slowly, kenma scooted forward to peek around the corner where his eyes met a scene that made his stomach churn and his heart twist in his chest.
you were dressed in some kind of apron and fluffy skirt combination while making a pot of really expensive coffee as atsumu hovered around you, teasing you clad in a massive hoodie (looked like samucooks merch) and gray sweats.
“tsum, leave me alone!” you laughed, shoving him out the way with your hip, skating around the kitchen as though you’d been in there thousands of times before.
that left kenma furrowing his brows in confusion. meiko always said you never cooked so why did you know exactly where the creme and sugar was? not even meiko remembered that but she played it off as her being a little forgetful. (would she lie?)
“go to bed atsumu,” your playful voice brought kenma back into the present, his golden eyes peeping you giving the blonde miya a tight hug and a slap on the butt, sending him back up the stairs and to his room.
kenma couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that crept up his spine. he wanted this with meiko — a clearly loving but playful relationship where both parties were open with their affection for one another. he had no idea if you and atsumu were actually dating but your relationship was something he aspired to have.
“kenma?” god, kenma needed to stop getting lost in his thoughts, your hesitant voice pulling him out the shadows. you gave him a soft smile before waving him over to which he tentatively obliged.
he kept his distance from you, meiko’s warnings ringing throughout his brain as he took a seat at the counter across from you.
kenma noticed how your smile dropped a little at the corners at his blatant avoidance but you quickly plastered on a fake one, moving to pull out a cup and pour him his favorite sleepytime concoction of akaashi’s special chamomile tea and 4.5 drops of melatonin.
when he sent you a look of distrust, you just shrugged, saying, “i know what everyone drinks,” before turning back to pour your own thermos full of coffee.
he watched you as you worked, not missing the tenseness of your shoulders at his presence but you never once alluded that you wanted him gone.
kenma supposed that’s what gave him the confidence to ask, “do you make coffee every morning?” his voice was gravelly with the lack of sleep but you paid it no mind. “pretty much. i usually need this cup to get through the day at work and then recording at home.” you waved your colorful cup in the air for emphasis.
“work?” you nodded. “yeah, i work at the gaming cafe by the university? i have to wear cat ears but it pays pretty decently.” heat flooded through kenma’s cheeks as he briefly imagined you decked out in a full cat-maid outfit before shaking his head, guilt oozing from his pores. (he belonged to meiko...)
the room fell silent after that, the only sounds being kenma’s small sips of his tea and your brewing of another pot of coffee to leave for the house.
“ah shit, i gotta go. i guess i’ll... see you later?” you asked awkwardly while pulling a cardigan over your apron and skirt uniform. kenma just nodded, watching you race out the door to catch the bus to work.
finishing off his mug, he placed it in the sink, his blush back in full force as he realized what you had absentmindedly done — kenma had never told you he’d been up all night and was in need of sleeping assistance but yet you prepared him exactly what he’d needed.
kenma knew for sure that meiko had no idea about his insomnia and his favorite remedy and he didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse. he wouldn’t want to worry her but a part of him wished she cared enough to know. (but that was selfish... don’t be selfish kenma...)
staring at the base of the sink, he smiled to himself at the thought of your kind words and careful hands before physically shaking the thoughts off.
no. he was with meiko and he was happy (was he?). but that didn’t mean he couldn’t just say...
“thank you.”
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℗ poker face
a crack in the facade
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ノ
an - MORE LORE MORE LORE :0 yall i’m proud of this ch, u see kenma changinggggg (ur welcome kenma simps hehe) FEED ME <3
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @vhskenma • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @ris-illustration • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @babierin • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
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hopelessbutterfly · 3 months ago
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Like Always | Draco x Reader
A/N: This idea came to me in a dream. I know it kind of moves fast. About to go to work, so I can't really make any adjustments, but I really wanted to release this! Enjoy so much! <3
Summary: Y/N and Draco run into each other by chance (or fate) in a bookstore. The last time they'd seen each other was right before Draco's arranged wedding to Astoria. They introduce each other's children and new lives to each other, letting old feelings spark.
Warnings/content: nudity, cockwarming, mentions of cheating, slight angst, soft Draco, Fem!Reader, Mom!Reader, Dad!Draco
Word count: 4.09k words
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THANKS TO @divvision FOR THE DIVIDERS! ALL CREDITS GO TO THEM!
"What about this one?" The little girl asked, Y/E/C eyes sparkling.
"No, baby, that looks a bit scary." Y/N giggled as the girl held up a book titled 1000 Stories to Keep You Up At Night. "How about we go find something for you? It is your birthday, after all." Y/N smoothed down her daughter's hair in an attempt to calm her.
"Okay, Mommy." Stella skipped down to the children's section, her adorable little braids almost floating in the air.
Y/N stayed behind a few more moments to double-check if there was a book she'd like to buy. She was about to leave when something called her, and she halted in her steps, going back to the bookcase she was at previously. She gazed over a book titled Top Astrological Baby Names and hastily grabbed it, heading back to the children's section where her daughter was.
Y/N looked around for her daughter until she heard her sweet laugh. It was unmistakable to anyone who knew Stella. Her feet led the way to the children's reading nook of the division, where her daughter was conversing with a boy about her size, only a bit taller.
"Hi, my love." Y/N sat down, giving Stella a tight hug. It was her seventh birthday. Y/N counted each day with her daughter as a blessing but never thought that her seventh year on this Earth would come so soon. She set down her book selection on the floor and watched as her daughter conversed with the boy.
"Hi, Mommy!" Stella exclaimed, arranging herself to sit in her mom's laps. "This is my new friend, his name is-"
"Scorp! I found this for you; you wanna try to read it tonight?" Said a voice that Y/N recognized almost as quickly as her daughter's laughter.
Y/N sat at the reading nook, staring at the tall blond figure in front of her, shaking her head to take a double-take. When she realized it was reality, her eyes widened. "Draco?" She asked, shocked.
"Y/N?" Draco smiled. His eyes still glinted with the same passion they did when they were together. Y/N's heart broke slightly at the thought, but she reminded herself that what happened may have been for the best and that she had already moved on. Draco pointed at Stella, approaching the pair slowly. "Is this your-"
"My daughter, Stella." Y/N finished his sentence, something the two often did when they were together. Y/N's heart tugged again, wincing at the painful memory of the two. "Say hi, baby." Y/N slightly glanced at Draco; her attention now focused on her daughter's manners.
"Hi, mystery man." She said, which made Y/N laugh, covering her face with her daughter's tiny body. "I'm seven today!"
"Well, happy birthday, sweetie! That's awesome!" Draco said, leaning down to give Stella a high five, which she happily accepted with a wide grin and giddy kicking feet. "Y/N," Even when they weren't together anymore, Draco could never fail to make Y/N shudder with his name. "this is my son, Scorpius."
Y/N beamed at the boy next to her, seeing him as a carbon copy of Draco. He had the same brilliant greyish-blue eyes, the trademark blond hair, and the same heart that could fill a room with love. She only momentarily wished she could've been the one to create that beautiful life with him instead of (presumably) Astoria.
"Very nice to meet you, Scorpius. I'm Y/N." Y/N smiled, extending a hand to shake the smaller one that was already courteously advanced in front of her.
"Hey, buddy, why don't you go look for more books with Stella? Maybe she could help you pick out some more." Draco said, kneeling, so his son was at eye level with him.
"Okay, Daddy." Scorpius smiled sheepishly, grabbing Stella by the tiny hand and leading her to his favorite section - the prehistoric era.
Draco laughed and took a seat next to her. Y/N couldn't help herself and lunged forward to give Draco a tight hug. Y/N almost felt the grin he had plastered on his face as he accepted the hug, pulling Y/N into a secure embrace.
"I missed you so much." Y/N whispered against his neck so she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.
"I missed you more than you can imagine, Y/N." Draco said, stroking Y/N's hair delicately.
She separated herself from him and cleared her throat. "How's Astoria?" Y/N felt like she had to ask. It isn't polite to hug someone's spouse and not ask how they are.
"Actually, we divorced. Well, she left." Draco rubbed the back of his neck. All Y/N wanted to do was kiss him, but this was not the time nor place.
Y/N gasped, covering her mouth. "Draco, I'm so sorry. I had no idea-"
"Don't worry, Y/N. It's not a big deal at all. She left when Scorpius was only four months old. I think motherhood came to be too much for her." He said. "It was an arranged marriage, anyways, Y/N/N. I wasn't in it for love... like I was with you." Draco's voice faltered, momentarily glancing back to make sure his son was still with Y/N's daughter.
Y/N gave Draco an empathetic smile, giving Draco a simple kiss on the cheek. "Similar story here. I thought I found someone, got pregnant, and in my second trimester, I found out he was cheating on me. I threw him out of the house, and he turned into a drug addict." Y/N explained flatly.
Draco could feel the anger rising up, appalled that anyone would treat such an angel like Y/N that way, but he dismissed it, knowing it wasn't the time to be upset. Instead, he reached his hand forward to push a nonexistent hair behind Y/N's ear.
Y/N stopped Draco's hand, dropping it down onto the soft cushion they sat on. "You know, if you wanted an excuse to touch me, all you had to do was ask." Y/N laughed, intertwining her fingers with her ex-fiancé. Draco's parents struck a deal with the Greengrass family before Draco was even born. Y/N and Draco kept their relationship secret for three years, from the ages of fifteen to eighteen. Still, when they graduated, they both knew that nothing they did would be able to stop the engagement with Astoria from happening. Y/N and Draco thought it would be too challenging to continue being friends after Draco married, so they strayed away from each other.
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"All I ask," Y/N said, feeling her face become hot. "All I ask, Draco, is please don't forget me." Y/N pleaded, her arms clung to Draco's waist.
"How could I forget my soulmate?" Draco asked, letting tears pour out of his eyes. "I love you so much, darling. You are so much stronger than me." Draco said, pressing a long kiss to Y/N's forehead. "I know you will find somebody more deserving of you. And when that happens, I'll be right here, cheering you on." Draco said, bringing his hands up to cradle Y/N's cheeks.
"Nobody deserves me more than you do." Y/N sobbed, leaning up to capture Draco's lips in a kiss, but it was too late. Y/N had already been cast with a spell that forced her to retreat outside the court where Astoria and Draco held their wedding.
"Y/N!" Draco screamed, trying to fight against the men that held him back, but it was no use. Y/N was gone and with her was Draco's heart.
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"Hey, you know, it was my birthday five months ago." Draco stated matter-of-factly.
"I know." Y/N giggled. "Stella and I celebrated by baking a carrot cake."
"My favorite." Draco sarcastically joked. Y/N shoved him to the side a bit, laughing.
"It's Stella's favorite, and we wrote your name on top in green icing, so it doesn't even matter!" Y/N smiled. Draco simpered at her, his heart racing.
"Why don't I take you and Stella out to dinner tonight? The kids seem to get along fine." Draco said as if the first sentence wouldn't be enough for Y/N to say yes a million times.
"Alright." Y/N smiled cheekily. "You and Stella choose. Ask her about her favorite restaurant. I think you'll be surprised what she says." She winked, making Draco gulp nervously. Y/N laughed and called her daughter and Draco's son. "Kids! Come, we've gotta ask you something."
Draco beamed at the sight of his son, who was thrilled with his newfound friend - the daughter of the love of his life.
Their footsteps pattered against the dark gray carpet as they let breathy laughs escape their small mouths. "Sh! We're on a mission!" Scorpius shouted, causing Stella to pout at him cutely.
"How can we be on a mission if you yell it out?" Stella said, crossing her arms over her small chest.
"Okay, Scorp, Stella,"
"Call me Stells. That's what my mommy calls me." Stella said adorably to Draco.
Draco smiled at Y/N, who was already smiling at him encouragingly, nodding. "Stells, we're going out to eat dinner together! Your mommy wanted me to ask you which restaurant you wanted to go to."
"Hm..." Stella said, widening her eyes at her mom as if to plead. "Please, Mommy?" Stella cupped her baby hands together, begging her mom.
"Please what, baby?" Y/N asked, kissing her daughter's forehead and bringing her to stand in between her legs.
"Hehe," Stella giggled as Y/N fluttered kisses all over her daughter's face. "can we please go to Lyra's?" Stella asked, making Draco's jaw almost drop.
"Hey, that's my favorite restaurant!" Scorpius exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and running around wildly in excitement, sticking his tongue out in a silly way.
"Mine, too." Draco said quietly, his heart melting at Stella's laughter and her mom's affection towards her. It reminded him of the nights Y/N would spend, catering only to Draco, ridding herself of any distraction that could take away from giving all her love to him.
"Okay, then it's settled then." Y/N said, setting her daughter down. "We'll go to Lyra's."
The children cheered as Draco and Y/N blushed shyly, heading downstairs to pay. Y/N held her daughter's hand as Draco held his son's hand, waiting in line to pay.
"Will these be separate payments?" The witch cashier asked, magically opening her cash register with a flick of her finger.
Right when Y/N was about to answer, Draco cut in. "No, I'll pay for everyone." He said, ignoring Y/N's scolding look. "It's the least I can do for her. It's her birthday." He whispered, looking down at the little girl. She was the perfect copy of her mother.
Y/N nodded, handing her book (Top Astrological Baby Names) to the cashier. "Are you pregnant?" Draco asked, his eyes widening, almost showing his new wrinkles above his forehead.
"No!" Y/N laughed. "I just felt gravitated to buy it." Y/N explained. "I loved your family's tradition of naming the children after constellations, so I named my daughter after the brightest star in the observable universe." She laughed, thanking the cashier with a nod and handing Scorpius and Stella their books.
"Nerd." Draco smirked, extending a hand for Y/N to hold as he apparated them to his favorite restaurant.
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Draco was more than aware that there were far better restaurants than this one. The tables were always sticky. There were always crayons and kid's menus thrown on the floor. And last but not least, the food was only slightly above average, if not average.
But still, he had an emotional attachment to this place. It's where he and Y/N had their first date and many other dates. They even had some steamy rendezvous in the restrooms, which caused the sour owners to chase them out of their restaurant for being "reckless teenagers."
"What are you going to order?" Y/N asked her daughter and Scorpius as Draco grabbed her hand from under the table, soothingly rubbing her thumb. She smiled, not looking at him, knowing he was already staring at her.
"Is that even a question?" Scorpius yelled a little too loudly, causing Draco to fan his hand down, asking him to lower his volume a bit.
"I'm having-" Stella started.
"The chicken strips with fries, a milkshake, and extra ketchup!" Stella and Scorpius said in unison, almost as if they'd practiced.
Draco looked at Y/N happily at their kids getting along and nodded. "And a cake." Draco added, watching the kids' smiles grow even wider.
Y/N let her daughter continue her conversation with Scorpius and turned slightly to Draco, scooting over so they could be closer, their thighs almost touching.
"And what are you having?" Y/N asked sweetly, although Draco took this as seduction.
"Is that even a question?" Draco mocked his son, causing Y/N to laugh. "The same you're having, like always." He said gently, tipping his forehead against Y/N's.
Scorpius and Stella interrupted their moment, stifling their laughter, hiding their faces behind Scorpius' menu.
"What is it, my loves?" Y/N asked, looking at the two increase their joy by the second. Draco felt his heart skip a beat at Y/N, calling his son "her love."
"Scorp needs to ask you guys something." Stella announced, pushing Scorpius out of the menu block, so his face was no longer hidden.
"No, Stells does!" Scorpius exclaimed excitedly, causing Draco to remind him of his volume again.
"Okay, well, why don't you two say it at the same time, then?" Draco asked, scooting even closer to Y/N.
There was resistance as the two children went back and forth until finally, Stella asked. "Are you guys dating?"
Draco looked at Y/N as she whispered something in his ear that made him shudder. "We can be if you want to." She nibbled at the bottom of his ear playfully, giving him a kiss on his jawline as she removed herself from Draco. She already knew what he was going to say.
"You caught us." Draco said, holding his intertwined hand up with Y/N.
"Mommy, why didn't you tell me?" Stella asked, pouting again, which made Draco melt.
"Yeah, and Daddy, you didn't say anything!" Scorpius shouted as the waitress approached the table.
Draco and Y/N smiled, ordering the food and moving on from the topic of their relationship. While the four ate, they talked about vacations they'd been on, played five favorites, and discussed which power would be the most useful if stuck on a deserted island.
"Mommy, are Draco and Scorp spending the night?" Y/N's daughter asked, putting on her best puppy eyes to convince her.
"If they want to, Stells." She laughed, looking at Draco, along with Stella and Scorpius.
"Please, Daddy! Stella said she has a dinosaur figurine collection at her house!" Scorpius begged his dad as Draco fake thought the idea over.
"Hm... I suppose we could stay, just for the night." Draco asked, laughing when Stella and Scorpius celebrated with a hug. They acted like siblings, and it was the cutest thing in the world.
"You can stay with me in my room." Y/N said, kissing the tip of Draco's nose, which she knew always made him grin like an idiot.
Stella and Draco celebrated their birthdays with one big chocolate cake, the majority of which Stella ate.
"Happy birthday, Stells." Draco laughed at the frosting on Stella's nose.
"Happy birthday, Draco!" Stella laughed, exhilarated, sticking a finger in the cake and wiping it on Draco's nose. "Now we're matching!" She smiled as Draco pulled her in for a tight hug, which Stella accepted eagerly.
Draco paid, as he usually did when he and Y/N were together, and it filled his heart to the brim to know he could finally do it for the only woman he ever loved.
The four got up, leaving the restaurant all hand-in-hand. While they were going, an elderly couple came up to them. They complimented their "beautiful family," to which both Draco and Y/N almost teared up.
"Where to?" Y/N said, pulling her wand out to apparate.
"Home!" Stella said, her eyes glistening.
"Dinosaur town!" Scorpius yelled, but Y/N knew what he meant.
They apparated to the house, a humble yet charming abode for just the two girls. Scorpius and Stella ran inside, Stella leading him upstairs to show Scorp her toy room.
"It reminds me of-"
"The house on Silver Creek Lane." Y/N finished. "I asked for it to be built that way." She smiled. "You have no idea how much I missed you, Draco." She whispered, her eyes lined with tears.
"Hey." Draco said tenderly, tipping Y/N's head up. "I'm here." He said, pulling Y/N into the warmest embrace he could offer in the November cold. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He said, only slightly loosening his grip to look into Y/N's eyes.
"Draco."
"Hm?" Draco responded, absentmindedly carding his slender fingers through Y/N's soft hair.
"I love you so much." Y/N blurted out, leaning up to kiss Draco on the lips, finally. "So much." She whispered in between a breath for air, entangling his lips with hers for as long as he'd allow it. He slipped his tongue in, a practice that felt almost normal for the two, despite not having seen each other for seven years.
When they finally separated from a kiss that was so long yet felt so short, Draco breathed heavily before speaking. "I never stopped loving you. I'll love you until the day I die." He said, holding Y/N's waist close to his hips, holding her head to his chest.
"The day you die is the day I die." Y/N corrected, something she used to say when they were younger. Draco smiled lightly at the saying.
"It's cold, darling. Let's go inside." Draco said, slowly leading Y/N into her house.
"I feel quite warm but alright." Y/N laughed, referring to how Draco's arms and jacket enveloped her tightly. Then, suddenly, an idea appeared in Y/N's head. "Draco, do you wanna take a bath with me?" Y/N asked, feigning innocence, rocking back and forth from heel to toe, looking down at her feet.
"I'd like nothing more, my love." Draco said as Y/N led him upstairs to her bathroom.
Draco stopped, halting at the end table against the wall in front of the staircase leading upstairs. "Is this her?" He asked, pointing to a portrait of Y/N holding a newborn.
"Yeah," Y/N smiled, leaning her head on Draco's shoulder. "it is. She was just born here. The doctors didn't let me hold her, but Pansy sneaked into the room they took her in and brought her back to my delivery room."
"You're beautiful." Draco said all of a sudden, looking down at her pretty head of hair.
"Thank you." She said, standing on her tip-toes to give Draco a kiss on his crown. Draco giggled as Y/N grabbed his hand and eagerly led him to the second floor.
Before she could reach her bathroom, Y/N heard a peal of laughter she fell in love with. Scorpius and Stella were hysterical, on the floor, crying.
"What have we got here?" Draco asked, leaning on the doorway as Y/N leaned on him.
Scorpius held a finger up to his lips, silently asking that Stella stay quiet, which she did. "We're just laughing!" Stella thundered. Scorpius was starting to rub off on her.
"We're going to go to sleep, baby. Happy birthday, my love." Y/N said, kneeling down to kiss Stella on the cheek softly and Scorpius a kiss on the opposite cheek that she did, Stella. Draco joined, giving his son a kiss on the crown of his head and another one to Stella.
"Goodnight, guys. Don't go to sleep too late." Draco said, handing Scorpius his backpack filled with an extra change of clothes, his new books, and some toiletries.
"Bye, Mommy, bye Draco!"
"Bye, Daddy, bye Mo- Y/N!" Scorpius covered his mouth as Y/N walked away, beaming at the thought of becoming a mother to Scorpius.
Y/N filled a bath for Draco and her, waiting for the water to get warm enough. As they waited, Draco sneaked behind Y/N, creeping his toned arms around her waist. Wordlessly, she understood what he wanted to say and began stripping his clothes as Draco helped Y/N take off her own.
"I love your family." Draco said, kissing Y/N sweetly on the lips.
"Our family." Y/N corrected, now fully naked along with Draco. She reached up to give him a kiss on the forehead.
Draco got into the bathtub, immediately relaxing at the heated water that wrapped his feet. He extended a hand, helping Y/N in before sitting in the water. Almost as if it was natural, Y/N straddled Draco, sitting so she could see him. Draco smiled gently, pulling his waist tight onto hers as she rested her head in the crook of his neck.
"I still can't believe we're here. Together." Draco whispered, kissing from Y/N's shoulder to her jawline.
"I can." Y/N smiled. "I knew we were meant to be." She grabbed the back of Draco's neck, pulling him in for another long kiss. "I wish I could be even closer to you." Y/N whispered, practically clinging to Draco's body.
"There is a way." Draco said softly, bringing his wet fingers to Y/N's back, trailing them up and down her spine.
Y/N picked her head up, nodding her consent, as Draco picked Y/N up by the waist and sank her down on his length so he was inside her. Both groaned at the feeling magnified by the water and relaxing aromas Y/N mixed the water with.
"You've always felt amazing, but I don't think I've ever felt anyone this amazing." Draco said quietly, trying not to move, as Y/N only said she wanted to be closer to him.
"We're not teenagers anymore." Y/N laughed, pressing her ear closer to Draco's heart, loving the sound of it speeding up. Draco wrapped his arms around Y/N's lower back, pulling her closer so he could be deeper in her.
Draco and Y/N stayed inside each other until the bath got cold, and they regrettably had to leave. Draco combed Y/N's hair, helping her dry off.
Y/N let out a soft yawn while sitting on the counter, waiting for Draco to finish brushing his teeth after she'd just finished brushing hers. She had a towel around her body while Draco had one around his waist.
"Are you tired, baby?" Draco asked, spitting his toothpaste out before rinsing his mouth.
Y/N only nodded, smiling gently while she mindlessly trailed circles on Draco's back, watching as his muscles flexed when he would bend down to be closer to the sink.
Draco laughed at this, picking Y/N up and taking her to her closet. "What do you want to wear?" He said, his arms still underneath her butt, holding her up.
"Nothing." Y/N said, embarrassed, burying her face into his chest. "Wanna feel you more." She muttered against his drying skin.
"Nothing it is, then." He laughed, taking off both of their towels. He carried Y/N to her bed, which was meticulously made. Slowly, Draco tucked Y/N into bed, getting in as well, after turning off the lights. He assumed his son and Stella were asleep because there was no more light chatter or hysterics booming throughout the hallways. Instead, there was a blissful silence that Draco would have felt uncomfortable with if Y/N wasn't there. Usually, he slept with the window open, not liking the sound of nothing. Sometimes he slept with his son. Still, the rhythm of Y/N's heartbeat and the sounds of her breaths would be more than enough to keep him serene for the rest of the night.
Draco and Y/N's bodies found each other in the dark, tangling themselves with each other, limb to limb, skin to skin.
"Draco?" Y/N asked, holding Draco's head to her bare breasts as he softly fluttered his eyes closed.
"Yes, my love?" Draco asked, holding her closer, pressing a kiss to where her heart laid underneath her skin.
"You mean everything to me. You, Scorpius, Stella. I love you. I love our family." She said, smiling a broad smile.
"I love our family more than anything. Trust me - I'll never let you go again." Draco said, blushing as Y/N set a kiss on the crown of his head.
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That book Y/N bought ended up coming in only slightly handy. One year later, after Y/N and Draco became Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, and Stella became Stella Malfoy, another Malfoy heiress came along. They named her - Lyra Celeste Malfoy.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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