#this was my first drawing of him if you’ll believe it

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.

AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)

This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut

Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally

CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH

You're fertile.  You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise.  This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one.  You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)

So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.

No.  No.  You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome.  Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing .  He’ll be furious.  He’ll question your very biology.  He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.

You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.

To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.

“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.

She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?”  You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime.  You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.

She composes herself again immediately.  “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness.  I apologize for my negligence.”  Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”

“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

She inclines her head further.  “Thank you, Na-Baroness.  I’ll be back in just a moment.”  

As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom. 

You’ll need to have the sheets changed.

It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs.  This doesn’t mean anything bad .  When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days.  Until then…until then…   For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.

“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly.  “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”

“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.

“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.

“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive. 

“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you.  “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal.  You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that .   You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”

You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying.  You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him. 

You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show.  How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go?  What are you supposed to do with your teeth?  It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.  

He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else. 

You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.

Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view.  You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.

She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop.  She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.

“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”

You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious.  “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again.  The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.

“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.

Idrisa hesitates, nervous.  You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right?  He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care.  You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you.  But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her.  You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him.  The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.

“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking.  The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you.  “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”

Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words.  “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference.  Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.

“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.

When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister.  You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank?  They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread.  You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate.  “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”

You turn and look at her.  She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves.  Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age?  What’s the life expectancy?  It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.

After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage.  The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman.  Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured.  You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.

You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his.  His uncle will likely be another story.  

The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him.  He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.

You compose yourself.  There’s no need to panic.  “Good afternoon, husband.  To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now. 

He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over.  “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.

“Yes, my apologies.  I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.  

He clearly doesn’t believe you.  You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze.  You seem fine .  “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse.  Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.

“Yes, husband,” you tell him.  

“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it.  “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right.  You should’ve been able to evade me.”

You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself.  “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.

He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve.  He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for.  “That’s not the point, wife.  You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that.  Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”  

He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt.  You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile.  You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.

His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch.  He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair.  It’s not even the first time he’s done it.  You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable.  You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.

But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.  

Now?  Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now?   You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.

In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.

“I’ll call on you soon,” he says.  There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone.  He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.

Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you.  “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says.  “He’s taken the news well.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.

“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her.  “He said he’d call on me later.”

“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient.  Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”

You suppose you already knew this.  It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.  

“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say.  There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.

You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask.  You look over at Idrisa.  She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation.  You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant.  Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask.  She takes your old mug and heads for the door.

“Idrisa,” you start.  She turns.  “You’ve…have you been with men before?”

She inclines her head in a polite nod.  “When it’s required of me,” she says.

Your second question dies in your mouth.  Oh.  Right .  Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.

And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought.  “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.

“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you.  “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”

Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity.  You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it.  “Thank you,” you tell her.  You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth.  “I was just curious.”

“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.

As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.

In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine.  “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”

You sigh.  “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right .  You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair.  And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice. 

“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand.  “How angry do you think he’ll be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband.  “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”

When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep.  And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.

He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.

“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.

You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence.  Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.

“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.

“I know,” he says.  “I could smell it on you.  I could feel your rag in between your legs.”

Was that what he was doing?  You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.”  A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .  

He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first.  “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week.  “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”

You’re not sure you heard him right.  “The blood,” you say slowly.  “I can’t control it.”

“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.

You’re not sure what to say to that.  In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.

“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow.  He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat.  You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.

“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.

“I do, husband,” say.  “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”

“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light.  There’s an element of danger to it.  “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”

Nor you , you think.  “So you want me in this state.”  You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.

The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath.  He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.

“What do you think?” he says.

You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin.  Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.  

You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers.  He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.

He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.

“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.

He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.

“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire.  You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.  

He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread.  “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.

You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.

You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists.  He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it.  You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next.  You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.

“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.

You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound.  He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.  

Good girl, he seems to be thinking.  He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.

You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire.  For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous.  His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains.  He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.

Not the scalpel.  Please not the scalpel.

You see it–corded leather.  A black whip with multiple knotted tails.  He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.

You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist.  At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of.  However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha’s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker.  You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.

“What, what is this?  A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.

And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it.  “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly.  “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.”  He holds up the device for emphasis.  “I wondered what noises you’d make.  I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed.  What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.

“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds.  “This is just fun.”

For you, perhaps, you think.  It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out.  You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger. 

“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.

“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute.  He clicks his tongue.

“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs.  The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you.  On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.

“Relax,” he says.

Fuck you.  You know I can’t.  Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.

You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain.  Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal.  The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out. 

The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse.  Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe.  It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm.  You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.

Your nerves are on fire.  You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again.  You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.  

You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count.  The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash.  Your ears are ringing.  You taste iron at the back of your throat.  The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff.  You start to feel wet.

It has to be a fear response.  This isn’t enjoyable .  It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.

Please.  I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.

At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing.  The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek.  You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.

But nothing happens.  You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done.  You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.  

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and  turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder.  “Back into position, pet.”  

You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows.  “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.  This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed.  All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery.  You’re exhausted.  You’re hurt.  You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.

He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you.  He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.

‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.  

You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates.  If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.

You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased.  “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.

It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.

For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue.  It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.

It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.  

Not yet, a part of you thinks.  You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace.  It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights.  It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you.  Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why.  You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.

Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.

He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal.  He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out.  You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.  

“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down.  Will he put a saddle on you next?  You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next.  Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?

Fine.  Fuck you again.  I can take whatever you’ve got.  I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite.   You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.

What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.

You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin.  However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.

He’s licking my wounds .

You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you.  He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it.  You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.

He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught.  You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.

This is disgusting , part of you thinks.  Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening.  In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses.  You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .

Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.  

It feels incredible.   You’d prefer it if it didn’t.  More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound.  You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.

He knows it, too, the smug bastard.  He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.

He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues.  His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.

He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you.  Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time.  It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.

You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you.  Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.

There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood .  You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena. 

He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it.  Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.

He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy.  He won’t last long, you realize.  He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago. 

He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable.  You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.

He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .

You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.  

He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you.  He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming.  Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.

And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.

For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath.  After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.  

He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.

Guess he’s done for the night .

But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves.  It takes some effort.  You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.

He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.

He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own.  Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same.  He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful.  He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer.  “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.

Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce.  “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.

He shakes his head.  “Not this time,” he says.  “Wasn’t trying to.”  And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.

You give a small gasp.  It just seems…lewd?  Subservient?  And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin.  You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.

He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance.  I like that.”

You huff a laugh.  I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true.  If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this.  Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.

Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.

Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married?  When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago.  Of course he didn’t know you a week ago.  He barely knows you now.  Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.

“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.

You look over at him.

“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”

You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement.  “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.

“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door.  He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again.  He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you.  I told her to go.”  He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow.  It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.

As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest.  And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.

“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper.  Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.

“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds.  “I was serious earlier.”

“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”

“That could be arranged,” he says.  “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”

He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there.  “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical?  For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”

You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk.  “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says.  And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable.  He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.

It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first.  Like sleeping beside a wild animal.  

Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.

You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @richardslady121

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#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd x you #dune fanfiction

[sherbovania]

RULES OF NATURE‼️

#this was my first drawing of him if you’ll believe it #you can tell by me pussying out of the detail on his breastplates lmao #it was also the first instance of this brush in my art wahoo #sherbo art #mgr #raiden #raiden mgr #mgr raiden #mgrr #metal gear revengeance #metal gear rising

[aaagustd]

for the night | min yoongi

title: for the night

pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader

genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+

summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 

warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...

wc: 11.6k

release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est

note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.

masterlist | playlist | ao3 version

“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”

As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 

You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.

It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 

You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.

You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 

“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.

He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 

You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.

A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 

The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.

Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.

You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 

One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.

As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.

“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”

She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 

“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.

Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.

You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.

“Did he stop by yet?”

And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.

Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 

Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.

You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.

It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.

If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.

You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.

Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.

…So you thought.

Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 

You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.

Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.

“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”

“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”

You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.

“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”

“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”

Your jaw drops. 

Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.

Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 

And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.

“Just get your ass out of here.”

You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 

You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”

Kaci then shakes her head. 

“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”

“Huh? What are you talking about—”

Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.

About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.

All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.

Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 

Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 

All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 

Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.

You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.

The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.

However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.

They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 

You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.

Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.

His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.

Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 

A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 

He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 

You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 

Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.

“Can he just bend us over already?”

You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.

“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.

You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.

Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.

“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.

“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.

“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.

“You know the alterations shop over there?” 

His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.

“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.

“Are you serious? That’s awful.”

“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.

Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”

He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.

“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”

“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.

“Sure, not a problem.”

With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.

“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 

“Yeah?”

“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”

“Is Hoseok out there?” 

You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?

“Yeah…he is—”

“Kay, bye!”

Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 

“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”

Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.

“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.

“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”

After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.

“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.

Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.

“How’s your dad?”

You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.

“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”

With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”

“Me too.”

Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.

“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 

You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 

You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 

You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.

After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.

“So how was your day?”

Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.

“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 

Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 

“This is all of it.”

Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.

“Just okay?” he quizzes. 

“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”

He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”

You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.

“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.

“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”

“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”

“Yoongi, I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I won’t,” you declare confidently.

“So you’re arguing with me?”

Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.

“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.

“I don’t see your car outside.”

“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”

After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.

“Um, do you mind—”

“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.

“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, love.”

You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 

Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.

“Good?”

“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”

“Cool.”

Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 

He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.

Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.

“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.

Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.

You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 

If that’s possible.

“Cold? This is perfect weather.”

You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.

“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”

You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.

You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.

“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”

Oh.

You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.

When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.

“Thank you.”

“For?” he asks.

“Your car feels like heaven right now.”

Yoongi scoffs softly.

“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.

“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, love.”

Fuck.

Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.

“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”

He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.

“Uh, what?”

“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”

Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.

You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.

“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”

You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.

“You alright?”

“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”

“Any plans tonight?”

You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.

“You bet.”

Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”

“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”

“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”

You give him a look. 

“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.

“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”

“That is true.”

Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 

As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 

But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.

You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.

“What happened to the garden?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 

As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.

“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.

You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.

“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”

“I forgot!”

“You always do,” he mumbles.

You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.

“Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.

As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.

Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.

Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 

You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 

Your best friend.

“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”

Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.

Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”

Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 

Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”

You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.

“There’s no need,” he assures. 

Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.

Foolish.

“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."

“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”

You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 

“You'll call me if you need me, right?”

If you need him… 

You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?

You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 

Just not right now.

“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 

Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 

A part of you wishes that he did. 

But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 

Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 

Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 

You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.

You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.

Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.

You should treat yourself; you deserve it.

“Get your sorry ass up.”

Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.

But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.

Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?

He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?

He ruined it.

He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 

That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.

If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 

He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 

There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 

The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.

“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”

Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.

This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.

“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”

Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.

“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”

“I—”

Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.

“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”

The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 

Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 

That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.

“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”

Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 

“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.

“You got that.”

He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.

After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.

“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”

Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”

Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 

He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.

Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.

“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.

“Who?”

“You want me to say her name out here?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.

Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.

He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.

You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.

“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”

Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”

“And you said no? Dude, no way.”

Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 

“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.

“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”

Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 

“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”

“And what do you think he meant by that?”

Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 

“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”

With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.

“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”

When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.

“You said you needed me,” he whispers.

All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.

It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?

Just like you used to.

Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.

No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 

That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.

You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 

You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Yoongi?” you whisper.

Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 

Your dad would be devastated. 

Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”

“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”

Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.

“Were you fighting?” you quiz.

“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”

Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. 

“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”

You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?

“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.

You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.

“What are you doing—”

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.

“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Yoongi?”

You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.

“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”

Oh. So he remembers that.

“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.

“So now I’m water under the bridge?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”

“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”

“Yoongi…”

“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”

“I don’t,” you admit.

This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 

It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.

Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.

You open the door again, and step to the side. 

“Come in. It’s cold.”

This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 

Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.

You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.

“You can sit here.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.

Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.

There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.

So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 

“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.

Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.

“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”

“...Was confused,” you add. 

You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.

“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”

You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.

“...My pussy was throbbing.”

Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.

“Huh-What?”

You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”

“Deflower you? The fuck?”

Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.

“Well, it’s true!”

“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.

“And you’re still stubborn.”

Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.

You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 

Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.

You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.

“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.

Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.

“You know you want to. Come here.”

Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.

“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.

You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.

“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.

“Fine…”

Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.

“What are you doing?” 

You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”

Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 

You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”

“A little, but…”

“But what?”

“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.

His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?

“Maybe…”

You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.

“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.

You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 

Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.

“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”

“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”

You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”

“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”

You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.

“Hold on.”

Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.

“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”

With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.

“Follow me…”

“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 

You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 

Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.

You have all night.

When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.

“Change your mind?” he quizzes.

You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 

As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 

Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.

“I can tell,” he scoffs.

You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 

Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.

While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.

No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.

“Ahh, fuck.”

If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 

You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 

His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 

When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.

He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 

Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 

Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.

“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”

“Thank you—”

Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.

“But is that what I told you to do?”

You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.

“No, use your fucking mouth.”

When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.

“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”

“I do,” you croak around his digits.

“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”

Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.

In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.

“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.

You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.

“No way.”

“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”

“And I’m not glass.”

Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.

“Come here.”

He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 

You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.

“Yoongi!”

“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”

With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.

You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 

“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”

Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.

“Damn, it’s wet.”

He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.

“Please stop teasing,” you beg.

Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”

“Because—”

You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.

“Oh my god.”

Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 

You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 

Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.

“Good now?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 

You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 

You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.

“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.

You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.

“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.

You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.

A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.

“Answer me.”

This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”

“Hm. So you just do what you want?”

The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.

“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”

“Oh, you will,” he promises.

Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.

“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”

“What?” you shriek. “No!”

His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.

“Uh-uh.” 

He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.

“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”

You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 

You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.

“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”

Fuck.

“I am.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 

He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.

“You’re mine, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Good... Now open.”

Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.

Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.

Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“You too, Yoongi.”

You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.

“More, please.”

“More?”

“Please…”

“I got you,” he assures.

Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 

“Cumming!”

You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.

Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.

Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.

You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.

You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”

“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.

Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.

Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—

Or you can ask Yoongi.

With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.

Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.

Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.

Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.

6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 

7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux

You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 

7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.

7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis

“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.

Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.

“Hello?”

It’s Yoongi.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.

“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”

“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”

“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”

“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”

“What?!”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”

If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.

“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.

“Yeah, anything.”

“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 

You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 

“I know you’re already late so…”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”

“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”

“That works.”

Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.

“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”

Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”

“Kay. Bye then.”

“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Still mine?”

A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.

But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?

“Maybe,” you tease.

There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.

“You still haven’t learned, have you?”

You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”

“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”

Shit.

If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.

No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.

“I guess you are.”

“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.

You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.

“Good. Neither am I.”

He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 

As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.

You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.

Isn’t that what friends are for?

hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !

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[pucksandpower]

That’s Not My Name

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: in which people assume you are everything except for your husband’s wife

Warnings: mentions of a significant age gap

The Daughter

You take a deep breath as you step through the paddock, clutching your pass tightly in your hand. The noise and energy of the Formula 1 weekend thrums around you. You’ve never been to a race before, and it’s all so new and overwhelming.

When Toto invited you to join him for the British Grand Prix, you were hesitant. This stage of your relationship is still so new — you’ve only been married a few months. But Toto was insistent. He wants you by his side.

Still, you feel out of place among the teams and journalists. You’re just a normal girl, plucked from obscurity by a man twice your age. What must they all think of you?

You arrive at the Mercedes garage and glance around nervously. The mechanics are bustling about, focused on their work. You spot Toto across the garage, talking intensely with his drivers. He looks stressed, his brows furrowed as he discusses strategy. This high pressure environment is his domain, but it’s foreign to you.

Toto glances up and notices you hovering near the entrance. His face breaks into a smile and he quickly excuses himself from his conversation to come greet you.

“Mein liebchen, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You cling to the solidness of him, drawing comfort from his familiar embrace.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” you say softly, glancing around. The mechanics are staring curiously. You know how it must look — their team principal hugging an unknown woman half his age.

Toto cups your face gently, “I want you here. This is your world now too. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”

You bite your lip but nod, trusting in him. If Toto believes you belong here, then you do.

He tucks you under his arm and leads you further into the garage, introducing you to his team. They greet you politely, hiding any surprise or judgment. You know you’ll have to win them over, prove that you’re more than just Toto’s midlife crisis.

A sudden commotion draws your attention across the paddock. The Red Bull Racing team is gathered around the entrance, greeting their team principal enthusiastically as he arrives. Christian Horner is holding court, shaking hands and clapping shoulders.

You tense involuntarily. The rivalry between Mercedes and Red Bull is legendary, with Christian often attempting to get under Toto’s skin. You don’t know how he’ll react to you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Toto tightens his arm around you. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

But you can’t relax as you see Christian look your way, his gaze sharp and assessing. He says something to his team and begins walking towards the Mercedes garage. Your heart sinks. There’s no avoiding this confrontation.

“Toto!” Christian calls out jovially as he approaches. “I see you’ve brought a special guest this weekend.”

Toto presses his lips together but forces a polite smile. “Yes, I wanted her to experience her first race weekend. Christian, meet Y/N, my wife.”

You extend your hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Christian raises his eyebrows, blatantly looking you up and down. “Your wife? My, they do start young these days.” His tone is patronizing.

You blush deeply, humiliated. But Toto comes to your defense.

“I’d appreciate if you leave her out of our rivalry,” he says sharply. “She has nothing to do with it.”

Christian holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get defensive! I just didn’t realize you had gotten hitched again. And to someone so … fresh faced. She could be your daughter!” He chuckles.

Your face burns. You hate Christian for putting voice to that thought. You know people judge you and Toto for your age difference. Hearing him joke about it so callously stings.

Toto steps forward angrily but you grab his arm, silently begging him not to cause a scene. He takes a deep breath, struggling to contain his temper.

“It was lovely to meet you, Christian,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “I do hope you’ll have a good weekend.”

Christian looks surprised by your composure. He nods farewell and heads back to the Red Bull garage, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toto turns to you. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says earnestly. “Christian is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”

You shake your head, swallowing back tears. “It’s fine, I knew people would think those things about me … about us ...” you trail off miserably.

Toto cups your face in both hands. “Look at me. None of that matters. He can think what he wants. But I know who you are. You are my heart, my present, and my future. No one can take that away, not even Christian bloody Horner.”

You give a watery laugh at his vehemence and he kisses your forehead tenderly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, finding your courage again. “I want to be here.”

Toto smiles proudly and laces his fingers through yours. “Good. Let’s show them we’re not going to hide. I want you here, where you belong.”

Holding hands firmly, you walk with your head held high back into the bustling garage. Let them stare and whisper. You know your place is here with Toto. No judgment or rivalry can change that. This is your world now.

The Assistant

The day has been a whirlwind so far. After the confrontation with Christian Horner, you tried your best to settle into the hectic swing of pre-race preparations. Toto has been swept up in strategy meetings and sponsor obligations. You trail along behind him, clutching your paddock pass, trying not to get in the way.

During a rare free moment, Toto turns to you. “Why don’t you go exploring for a bit? Get a feel for the place. I need to take this call but I’ll come find you soon.”

You nod uncertainly. Venturing off alone makes you nervous, but you want to prove to Toto you can handle this new world.

You wander toward the garages housing the Formula 2 teams. The cars are lined up, mechanics hovering over them making final tweaks and adjustments. You watch them work, enthralled by their practiced movements.

“Are you lost?”

You turn to see a mechanic frowning at you. He’s from one of the backmarker teams, a lower budget operation.

“Oh no, just looking around,” you stammer self-consciously.

The mechanic’s eyes drop to your pass. “Ah a VIP pass eh? Who are you with?”

“Oh um Mercedes ...” you trail off awkwardly.

His eyebrows raise, impressed. “Posh. You must be Toto’s new assistant then?”

You freeze, the old insecurity rising. Assistant. Because why else would someone your age be hanging around the Mercedes garage? You want to correct him, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t want to make a scene.

So you just nod and mumble something noncommittal. The mechanic looks sympathetic.

“First race weekend is it? They can be chaotic. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Who knows, if you impress the boss, you might get to travel full time!”

He means it kindly, but his words dig into your wounds. You give a thin smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”

You turn away before he can respond, a lump forming in your throat. No matter what Toto says, people will make assumptions about you.

Lost in thought, you wander toward the bustling fan zone. It’s a sea of colors, supporters wearing their favorite team’s kit. You pass unnoticed, just another face in the crowd.

The roar of an engine makes you glance up. The Formula 2 cars are being pushed out of the garage, heading for the grid. You hurry over, eager to get a closer look.

A harried looking engineer nearly runs right into you, focused on his tablet. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.” He does a double take. “Hey, you’re Toto’s new assistant right? I saw you with him around the paddock earlier.”

Your heart sinks. Word has spread. You open your mouth to correct him but he barrels on.

“Listen, I hate to do this, but any chance you can help me out? My usual assistant called in sick and I’m swamped. I just need someone to hold these and stand with the engineers during the race. You’ll get a front row view of the start!”

He looks at you pleadingly. You hesitate, but his need seems genuine.

“Um, sure, I can help,” you say.

“You’re a lifesaver!” He exclaims, piling several tire blankets into your arms. They’re heavier than you expected. “Just follow me.”

He leads you onto the grid and you get swept up in the controlled chaos, focusing on not dropping the blankets. The cars pull into position around you. The engineer directs you where to stand and you end up right against the barrier, the engines roaring just feet away.

Your heart races with excitement. The start is exhilarating, the cars peeling away in a blur. You forget your insecurities for a moment, lost in the thrill of the race.

The checkered flag waves and the engineer finally relieves you of the weight in your arms. “Thanks so much for your help! I really appreciate it ...” he pauses. “Actually I don’t think I got your name?”

You open your mouth but a familiar voice interrupts. “There you are!”

Toto appears through the crowd and pulls you into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you alright?”

He notices the engineer standing there awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Toto asks coolly.

“Nope, we’re all good here. Thanks again for your help,” the engineer nods at you and disappears into the dispersing crowd.

“What was that about?” Toto frowns. “Why was he giving you tire blankets?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you again. “He thought I was your new assistant. He needed help so I said yes.” You shrug helplessly.

Understanding flashes across Toto’s face and he swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone. I should have made things clearer who you are.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping out, really.” But your voice wavers, betraying your hurt.

Toto cups your face gently. “No, it’s not okay. You are my partner, my equal. Not my assistant. I need to show people the extraordinary woman you truly are.”

His faith bubbles up your own courage. You straighten your shoulders, looking him in the eye.

“Then let’s go show them. I’m not hiding anymore. Take me where I belong, right by your side.”

Toto kisses you fiercely. “With pleasure, meine liebchen.”

He tucks you under his shoulder proudly. You keep your head high as you walk back through the paddock, passes reflecting in the sun. Let them stare and whisper. You know where you belong.

The Trespasser

A few months later, you’re starting to find your stride. Each race weekend poses new challenges, but with Toto by your side you’re learning to navigate the hectic world of motorsports.

The Mercedes team has slowly warmed up to you as well. Seeing how happy Toto is has softened their skepticism. You pitch in where you can — bringing freshly baked pastries and trying to make yourself useful. Having a purpose eases your lingering insecurities.

The Singapore Grand Prix means a sweltering heat that makes the paddock sticky and humid. The stuffy garage offers little relief so you wander outside hoping for a breeze. You end up in the fan zone, mingling with supporters visiting the various team merch shops and activities.

You chat with a few enthusiastic young fans, gently deflecting their eager questions about Toto and the team. Despite the heat and crowds, their passion for the sport is contagious and you find yourself smiling.

Toto texts that he needs you back at the garage, so you reluctantly leave your anonymous conversations and make your way through the paddock. As you draw closer to the Mercedes garage, you realize your pass has gone missing from your lanyard.

Your heart sinks. The passes grant crucial access and you don’t want to cause problems. But the garage is just ahead so you decide to explain yourself once you’re inside.

Slipping through the open door, you immediately spot Toto in the back. As you weave between bustling mechanics, a hand grasps your shoulder.

You turn to see one of the newer Mercedes mechanics frowning down at you. “What are you doing in here?” He demands. “This area is restricted.”

Flustered, you try to explain about your missing pass. But the mechanic’s stern expression doesn’t waver.

“How did you get in? I know all the team members but I haven’t seen you before.” His eyes narrow suspiciously.

Other mechanics have noticed the confrontation and start drifting over. You shrink under their doubtful gazes.

“I, uh, I’m Toto’s ...” you stammer, but the mechanic cuts you off.

“A likely story. Every race some starry-eyed fan tries to sneak in for an autograph or photo. You picked the wrong garage for that. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm in a firm grip. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he escorts you briskly outside.

To your dismay Toto is occupied with an intense conversation, his back turned. No one intervenes as the mechanic marches you away from the garage and into the paddock.

“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’ll be reporting this. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around restricted areas.”

You tug uselessly against his hold, trying to explain it’s all just a misunderstanding. But he remains stoic, unmoved by your pleas.

Other teams and drivers are staring now as he parades you past. Your face burns with humiliation at the thought of causing a scene or being accused of lying.

In a stroke of luck, you spot Lewis heading towards the Mercedes motorhome ahead. He knows you, surely he can clear this up!

You call his name desperately. “Lewis, Lewis! Help, please!”

Lewis turns, confusion clouding his features. But then he recognizes you and his brow furrows.

“What’s going on here?” He asks sharply, striding over.

The mechanic snaps to attention, clearly intimidated to be addressed by Lewis directly.

“I caught this girl sneaking around the garage! She claims to know Toto but it’s obviously a ruse to get access. I was just escorting her out.”

Lewis looks incredulous. “This is Toto’s wife, mate. She’s supposed to be there.”

The mechanic gapes, his authoritative air dissipating. “His wife? But she’s so young ...” he glances at you uncertainly. “My apologies, ma’am, I didn’t realize. We have to be vigilant about security.”

You shrug off his now-slack grip. “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” you mumble, face still burning.

Lewis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you back where you belong.”

He leads you away from the shrinking mechanic back toward the Mercedes garage. You feel tears pricking your eyes.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you say shakily. “I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen ...”

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is new around here, still learning the ropes.” Lewis pats your shoulder consolingly.

You nod, trying to brush it off. But the encounter left you rattled. Will there always be those who see you as an outsider?

Lewis seems to sense your swirling doubts. “He was just new. The team knows you well by now. Stuff like this will stop happening once the rest get used to you being around.”

You want to believe him. You’ve tried so hard to find your place here.

As you near the garage, Toto comes rushing out, scanning the paddock anxiously. His shoulders sag with relief when he spots you.

“Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone!” He exclaims, pulling you into his embrace.

Over his shoulder, you see Lewis mouth “tell him” before discreetly slipping away.

You take a deep breath and explain what happened with the mechanic. Toto’s expression darkens, his protective anger rising.

You touch his cheek gently. “It wasn’t his fault. It was just a misunderstanding.”

Toto sighs, anger melting away. “I should have been there. I should have introduced you properly to the new staff.”

You shake your head. “You can’t be responsible for how everyone sees me. I don’t need you fighting my battles. This is something I have to earn for myself. Their respect, their trust … I just need more time.”

Toto gazes at you with so much love and pride it takes your breath away. “You are so much stronger than you know. And if they can’t see that, well that’s on them.”

He kisses you softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And wrapped securely in his arms, you finally believe it’s true. This is your world now. Your place is here, with him.

The Nanny

The warm early autumn breeze ruffles your hair as you wait outside the primary school, keeping one eye on the time. Any minute now the bell will ring, signaling the end of your son’s second day of preschool.

You smile thinking of this morning and his eager goodbye hug before practically sprinting into the building, too excited to look back. He has his father’s confidence.

Shifting the baby carrier holding your sleeping newborn daughter, you smooth down your dress self-consciously. Even after years with Toto, you still can’t help but feel out of place at posh schools like this.

The other mothers eye you curiously. No doubt wondering about the young woman with an infant waiting alone.

You know some of them recognized Toto yesterday when he dropped off and picked up your son. Your heart had lurched seeing him cradling Leon’s small hand, both your boys glancing back to wave goodbye.

But duty called for Toto today with important meetings at Mercedes’ Brackley Headquarters, so pickup fell to you today. Not that you mind another glimpse of that overjoyed grin when your son spots you.

The bell rings and a stream of children come pouring out the doors. You crane your neck, looking for a familiar head of tousled curls.

There! You wave eagerly as your son breaks into a run when he sees you.

“Mama!” He cries joyfully, slamming into your legs. You stroke his hair, hugging him tight.

“Did you have a good day baby?” You ask as he looks up at you adoringly.

He nods, launching into a story about finger painting that you can barely follow. But his enthusiasm is contagious and you can’t help but smile.

A polite cough interrupts you. An immaculately dressed woman is hovering nearby, eyeing your son curiously.

“Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Clarice, Emma’s mum,” she gestures to a girl clinging shyly to her leg.

“Lovely to meet you,” you say politely, shaking her offered hand. “I’m Y/N and this is Leon.”

You ruffle his curls and he gives a dimpled smile before hiding against your side. Clarice’s eyes flick between you and your son, a slight furrow in her brow.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I met Leon’s father yesterday during drop off. Is his mother … not around?” She asks delicately.

Your cheeks flush. Of course she would assume you’re the nanny, not the mother. Bracing yourself, you shake your head.

“No it’s okay! I’m his mother. Toto — Leon’s dad — had meetings today, so it’s my turn to do pickup.”

Clarice looks mortified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for assuming. You just look so young, I thought ...” she trails off, flustered.

You force an understanding smile. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy mistake. Our age difference does raise some eyebrows.” You punctuate this with an awkward laugh.

Clarice seems eager to change the subject. “What a beautiful baby!” She gushes, peering at your daughter sleeping in her carrier. “And so well behaved.”

Grateful for the redirected conversation, you chat politely about your little girl. Clarice coos over her sweetly.

Other parents begin dispersing with their kids and Clarice makes her goodbyes. “So lovely meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You smile and take Leon’s hand to drive home, his chattering filling your ears. You know curious parents will likely gossip about Toto’s young wife. But it doesn’t sting as much as it once did. You’ve grown used to the assumptions by now.

Unlocking the front door, you’re greeted by the smell of cooking. Leon goes tearing off to the kitchen, shouting “Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you follow after, your daughter beginning to stir in her carrier.

Toto is there to sweep Leon into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses as your son giggles. The scene warms your heart.

Noticing your arrival, Toto sets Leon down to embrace you and peer at the baby. “How was pick up? Any tears today?” He asks Leon.

Your son shakes his head proudly. “I made a picture for you, Papa!” He runs off to retrieve it.

You meet Toto’s gaze over your daughter’s downy hair. “It was fine. Just the usual questions about my age from a school mum. She thought I was the nanny when we first met.”

You try to say it lightly, but Toto’s face tightens, protective anger flashing. Even after all this time, he hates when people judge you unfairly.

You touch his arm gently. “It’s okay, really. I don’t care what they think.”

And it’s true. The opinions of strangers can’t touch the beautiful family you’ve built together.

Toto lets out a long breath, anger melting away. “I know. But I still wish people could see you how I do.”

He pulls you close and you lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent. “As long as you and the kids see me, that’s all that matters.”

Leon comes barreling back in, brandishing his painting. “Look!!”

You both admire his abstract swirls of color dutifully. “A masterpiece!” Toto proclaims. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”

Leon beams under the praise then dashes off again in pursuit of a toy.

You and Toto share a wry smile. “Never a dull moment with that one,” you remark. The baby begins fussing and you gently sway her.

“Here, let me.” Toto takes her expertly and she settles against his broad chest. Your heart squeezes at the sight.

Toto meets your gaze. “I know I’ve put you through a lot over the years. The stares, the gossip … you’ve endured it all with grace when you could have walked away.”

You stroke his cheek. “You and our family are worth any trial. I would do it all again without a second thought.”

Toto leans into your palm. “Having you by my side is the greatest gift.”

You kiss him softly, your heart brimming with love.

From the other room, Leon’s playful giggles reach you. The smell of dinner being prepared still fills the warm kitchen. And your baby girl doses off in her daddy’s arms.

This is your world. The only one that matters. And you know for certain you belong.

The Husband

The morning sun streams through the hotel window as you sip your coffee, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Race weekends are always a whirlwind, but you’ve learned to carve out small moments of calm when you can.

Toto is already down in the paddock prepping for qualifying today. The room feels empty without him. Sighing, you click over to TikTok, hoping for a distraction.

Immediately a video pops up on your feed from a fan account, the caption “so cute!” catching your eye. You tap play, assuming it’s another clip of drivers’ kids or someone’s grid walk antics.

But you nearly spit out your coffee when the video loads. It’s Toto, standing by the circuit entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They’re prodding phones toward him eagerly, voices babbling over one another.

“Toto, what’s it like being Y/N’s husband?” One asks boldly.

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. In all the years by Toto’s side, you’ve never heard anyone flip the script like that. It’s always been “what’s it like being Toto’s wife?” You’re an accessory to his fame, not the focus.

Toto looks momentarily surprised, then laughs good-naturedly. “She is extraordinary,” he proclaims sincerely. “Being with her is a privilege every day.”

The girls sigh dreamily at his romanticism. Another chimes in, “You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished!”

Toto nods, his expression tender. “I am in awe of her strength and resilience. She has faced so much scrutiny with grace. And now people finally see her incredible spirit.”

You press a hand to your mouth as tears spring to your eyes. After years by his side, Toto’s steadfast faith in you still takes your breath away.

“So you’re proud to be Y/N’s husband?” The first girl presses.

“Absolutely.” Toto doesn’t hesitate. “She is my inspiration.”

The video ends and you sit staring at the screen, cheeks wet. Never did you imagine your own fans, separate from Toto. But these girls look up to you, see you as more than just “the wife.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Toto.

Have you seen the video? The PR team says you’re trending on TikTok!

You type back shakily.

Just watched it. Made me cry happy tears 🥹

His response is immediate.

You deserve all the praise, meine liebchen. I meant every word.

Wiping your eyes, you get up and dress quickly. Down in the paddock, you spot Toto right away. He sweeps you into his arms.

“There’s my superstar wife.” His eyes shine with pride.

You kiss him fiercely. “Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I doubted myself.”

Toto touches your cheek. “You’ve earned every bit of admiration. Don’t ever forget your worth.”

As he walks you into the bustling garage, mechanics glance up from their work to smile and wave. The fans hover nearby, whispering excitedly when they see you.

You no longer feel out of place here. This is your world now, as much as Toto’s. You’ve claimed your seat at the table.

Standing confidently by your husband’s side, you wave back, ready to take on the day.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #toto wolff x y/n #mercedes amg f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #f1 fics

[theobsessivesideblog]

Trust Issues

An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.

Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well

————————

He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 

But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 

He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 

“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 

“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”

“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.

You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.

He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 

His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 

“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”

He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 

“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 

Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 

“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”

“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”

“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”

“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”

His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”

You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.

“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”

Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 

“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.

“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”

“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 

“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 

“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion

[namfinessed]

untitled - j.jk.

genre: angst, fluff (firstlove! slowburn!) (11.5k)

summary: jungkook was your first love but first loves were supposed to end, they were supposed to be a fond memory to look back on but your first love never leaves your life, nor does he stay in it.

note: this is inspired from my first love <3

masterpost

even if years, ages, and places separate you, maybe you’ll love jungkook all over again every time.

you had met him in school, in college, on a different continent but he never stayed in your life for too long, and you hadn’t stayed in his either.

but now that you believe you wouldn’t see him again, only because you were standing next to your soon-to-be-husband, you believe your never-pausing story needed to be told.

and oh, would you look at that? it seems like jungkook has entered the venue to hear it too.

-

it was the 9th grade when you first met him.

it was simple and so innocent.

you had your new school bag resting behind you, and your shoulders kept knocking against your sisters as the bus drove on the road and abruptly stopped at a place that it never did before; down the lane from your home.

you curiously looked out and heard your bus manager faintly mumbling something about a new student joining the bus.

and there he was, a head full of bouncy hair and a smile that wasn’t exactly present. even as he walked the length of the bus with his head down, he didn’t give off insecurity, it was more like he avoided looking at most people.

he sat down, right behind you, his legs stretching could be seen under your seat and you didn’t look back just yet. you had no idea why.

your sister, sunny, turned around, hand clasping the seat, and eagerly asked, “you’re in B section, aren’t you?” your ears perked up at that, and you subtly leaned in to listen to him.

why you had been curious at all about someone whose face you hadn’t seen, is something that was beyond you but you were consumed inside out with curiosity from the beginning.

he nods at your sister and doesn’t offer another word but when you tilt your head to look back, you see him looking right at you.

that’s when it all began, there were no words at all, just a boy who hadn’t looked at anyone but looked at you as if he could draw you the very next second.

-

your sister, ever the extrovert, talked to jungkook every day, they laughed and made fun of each other, you smiled at their conversations but never contributed yourself. you listened though, and you listened well.

by week two, you knew how he sounded when he was bored.

you knew how his voice hitched when he was excited.

you knew how his voice would get low whenever he pulled a sarcastic joke on your sister.

jungkook’s eyes would dance to the back of your head, wrapped neatly in a ponytail every single morning, to see if you would turn back, to see if he could catch a glance of those small smiles you let out sometimes but most days, he would just talk loud enough for you to hear about him.

he never understood why he had wanted you to listen, but he couldn’t tell you anything directly, and he wanted to look cool, sound cool, make jokes in a cool way, in a way that would make you laugh and once he got home, he always felt ridiculous for feeling that way.

and then, as if a miracle, your sister didn’t come to school one morning, jungkook could see you alone, ponytail brushed back as always, school bag resting on your thighs, and felt a stabbing need to hear your voice, talking to him.

he settled behind you, legs stretching again and his fingers danced on his thighs as he thought of a way to talk to you, just then your head tilted slightly, as if you were trying to catch a look at him and jungkook felt his smile burn into his skin.

“why did sunny not come today?” you jumped as he fully leaned on the back of your seat, your eyes drifted to his face, “she’s not well.”

those were the first words you had ever spoken to him.

“why is she not well?” was not his best, but he needed to keep it going.

sunny was on her period.

“stomach ache,” you murmured, ignoring how his eyes twinkled with each word that escaped out of you. you hadn’t believed that eyes could twinkle up until that day, but then again you think you’ve never seen jungkook’s eyes twinkle with anyone else.

“she must’ve eaten something bad, didn’t she? she seems the type to be careless like that,” jungkook snickered and your face grew red hot, “what she eats or doesn’t eat, isn’t any of your business.”

your tone, your eyes narrowing sharply to glare at him, was a sight jungkook would get used to later, but for now, he didn’t know how to react.

he was taken aback that you had gotten so serious over a simple joke, then it clicked to jungkook that you were one of those oddly protective people. nothing else could explain your red cheeks and furrowed eyebrows.

and he grew giddy.

you were oddly protective.

a new thing he got to learn about you because he had conjured up the courage to start a conversation.

“my bad,” he shrugs into his seat, and his nonchalant response makes you feel guilty, so you sigh and turn back fully to face him.

that was the first time you saw him straight on, with no sideway glances, no peripheral view of him, just his face and nothing else.

“you have adam sir for physics too, right?”

it was something you picked up from the multiple conversations you overheard.

“um yeah?” he wasn’t sure where you were going with this, “does he come into your class with chalk on suspicious places too?”

you were talking about your dear adam sir who constantly came to class with chalk all over the front and back of his pants crotch area, everyone but adam sir himself knew about his crotch chalk.

and jungkook laughs out loud, “oh my god, yes, i don’t know whether to be horrified or mildly impressed with his lack of self-awareness,” and you laughed too.

when you stopped and looked at him once more, he was already looking at you and the smile on your face didn’t break until you reached home.

-

it was normal now, you and sunny would turn around, talk to jungkook until you reached school, and then wait for the evening, when you could talk to him until you reached home.

you were quick to anger, he noticed.

you often fought with guys in your grade with a rage that both scared and fascinated jungkook.

you were calm with people you liked, you were fun with people you liked, you were passionate about things you believed in.

you always were a bit frustrated with him, but you still laughed at his jokes.

he was sarcastic, you noticed.

he had no interest in most things.

he didn’t like drama but always knew everything about everyone.

he always looked at you after he made a joke, as if to check if you thought it was funny, if you thought he was funny.

and you would always laugh, he would always feel a seed of pride in him whenever you turned away, hiding your laughing face in your palms.

you knew he liked you; you weren’t oblivious or stupid.

you’re not sure who he told or how it even came out, but suddenly, everyone around you knew about it.

the rumors started a month after you talked to him, you had known him for six weeks which felt like six years, but you didn’t like him back.

he knew that you didn’t like him back.

but that didn’t stop him from trying to look cool to you.

something his friends never let him succeed at.

on children’s day, you were allowed to wear anything besides your uniform, and that was a very exciting thing then, you always wore your best outfits because your mom believed in looking good and feeling good.

you were standing in the middle of the ground, waiting for your friends to come back from getting food when someone tapped swiftly on your shoulder, it was one of jungkook’s friends, smiling at you as if he knew you. you didn’t know the guy; you only knew he was jungkook’s friend.

“hey, could you take a photo for us?” he mused, you almost said no, but then you peeked around him, to see jungkook with his very huge group of friends, he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at everything but you.

it confused you.

his friend’s smile got wider when he noticed you staring at jungkook, you ignored him and took the phone dangling from his hands, you watched as they all got closer and started smiling.

jungkook’s smile was so small, so invisible, so you yelled, “smile everyone!” and you tried not to smile too when his smile took over his entire face until you couldn’t see anything else.

“thanks,” his friend came and took his phone, jungkook left, eyes glancing over his shoulder where you stood, an unavoidable warmth spread through your fingers.

but you didn’t like him.

not the way he liked you.

right?

-

“he likes you, he told his friends and well, they told my friends, who told me,” sunny rambled beside you, shifting through her closet and you didn’t know what to say, “do you like him?” she turned around to you, eyebrows raised as if she judged you a little if you did, and you shrugged.

“no, how can anyone like him?”

-

you had people who admired you, liked you even, but very few were honest or brave about it.

so, when the sister of a guy who you thought was only your friend, knocked on the window of your seat, you were confused. she smiled, “this is for you,” she pushed a letter, bracelet, and chocolate into your hands once you opened it, running away before you could ask anything.

you saw your friend peeking from the corner of a bus, watching your reaction to his confession, you looked away and shoved the letter and bracelet into the front pocket of your bag.

jungkook watched the whole exchange silently, a strange jealousy settled in his stomach as he looked out the window to glare at your friend, who sadly only had his eyes on you. then, he watched you and tried to understand what you felt from the back.

it wasn’t easy.

his friend gasped and howled next to him, “she got a letter, bro” he teased jungkook loud enough for you to hear, jungkook waited for you to turn around and tell his friend to shut up and mind his own business.

but you didn’t, you didn’t get angry like you usually did.

you were hyper-focused on the bracelet resting in your bag, and jungkook scoffed at it, he could do better, he won’t, but he could.

“she got a letter and you’re still just sitting here,” his friend tutted at him and jungkook shrugged his friend’s arm around his shoulder, scowling at him.

you rested your head on your window and closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun penetrate you.

when it was just the two of you on the bus, he leaned forward, “he wrote you a letter?”

“yeah, he did.” it was embarrassing to tell jungkook for some reason, it felt like cheating, receiving a letter from someone else when he was right behind you, though none of those feelings held any validity.

“he gave you a bracelet and chocolate? that’s just childish,” he snickered and expected you to laugh with him but you didn’t, “we’re still kids,” you mumbled instead, and jungkook straightened.

“do you like him?”

“no.”

“do you like anyone?”

“no.”

“why?” he stood with his bag in his hands, the bus waiting for him to get down and you didn’t notice his nervous stammer then, you were too confused by the bracelet and chocolate in your bag.

“i just don’t.” he nodded and left.

you kept the letter and bracelet in your school memories box.

-

somewhere jungkook knew that you knew, but he was always grateful that you acted like you didn’t know.

but it was unbearable for him.

seeing your swaying ponytail every morning, hearing your laughter ring in his ears at times when you weren’t even around him, driving by your house a few fifty times a day to see if you were talking in the balcony sometimes because you did that sometimes, sometimes it felt to jungkook that you did it for him.

sometimes you did it for him, for him to see you.

why?

no one knows.

you and jungkook were friends, only friends.

you and him were friends, but you never talked when others besides sunny were around, your conversations were yours and his, and no one else’s.

you weren’t sure that was how friendships worked, but you thought maybe friendship with jungkook worked this way.

he had your number but he never called, you had his number but you never called.

but one day, right before your final exams started, your phone rang and your heart stopped when you saw his name flash on your screen, you stared at the screen until your phone stopped ringing and didn’t touch your phone until it was night.

you opened it to several messages from jungkook and none of them were about school or the annoying kids on the bus or his annoying friends or your annoying friends.

jungkook: i like you.

jungkook: i think you know that. but i wanted to tell you.

jungkook: i know that you don’t like me, but i like you and i’ve tried to avoid it, but i see you every day, and i can’t avoid you, i can’t avoid how i feel.

jungkook: if you somehow like me, reply to this, if you don’t, don’t. just act as if nothing happened when we see each other tomorrow.

you couldn’t study anymore that night.

the next day, you turned back with sunny and talked to him as if nothing happened, you complained about your syllabus, he laughed that he didn’t even open his books, and sunny bragged that she finished everything and helped him with some important topics.

you ignored the pull in your heart at how openly his affection showed in his eyes now when he looked at you, his sentiment was simple, he had said his bit, and he had nothing to hide anymore but you grew heavy on that seat in front of him, you had everything to hide.

sunny squeezed your hand as you looked out the window.

she knew what happened.

your eyes filled with affection too, gave it away.

-

why did you never tell jungkook that maybe, just maybe, just a small part of you, a part of you that you wanted to destroy, liked him too?

you never understood why your sentiment cowered under layers whereas his laid naked in the world.

and middle school for you, high school for him, came close to ending by the time you ever confronted your feelings.

it was the last day for middle schoolers, you had a whole event thing in the school and dressed up accordingly, you had gone to school with your dad.

but once the day ended, you got onto the bus with a shirt full of your classmates' signatures and notes, you were a little late and flushed from the sun, you plopped down on your seat and fanned yourself.

sunny pulled the scribbled shirt from your hands, “god, you really filled it up,” you pointed to each signature and note, explaining who it was from, and when a huge note from some guy in the class who liked you came, sunny teased you and jungkook glared at the back of her head.

but a knot of sadness formed in his throat, he wouldn’t see you every day after this, he wouldn’t see you sleep on the bus, he wouldn’t hear the r-rated jokes that you whispered to sunny, thinking that no one could hear, he wouldn’t hear you silently cry after a bad day.

to jungkook, today felt like the end of a lifetime.

then you turned around, with tired eyes and a shy but carefree smile, you extended the shirt to him and said, “write something good, jungkook.” he felt as if he was going to fall off his seat.

his name in your voice was something he would remember for years to come.

he asked for a pen because of course, jungkook didn’t carry a pen in his bag that had one notebook, you scoffed and gave him one and he thought for very long.

i love you, felt wrong to write on a shirt that was littered with other people’s love for you.

and as he read each note, jungkook suddenly felt small, so many people loved you, much better people than him, he couldn’t even write anything as a goodbye to you whereas others wrote whole paragraphs.

he wrote something quickly, under your watchful and expectant gaze, and handed the shirt back with a weak smile.

‘be happy, always. jk’ looked back at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his small handwriting next to everyone else’s. you didn’t notice his dejected posture, nor his distracted gaze out the window.

“really? that’s all?” you said with a teasing smile, extremely amused by his words and he shrugged at you, playing with his hands.

but he felt it when your smile dimmed and you turned around with a silent huff, he felt even smaller as he got down from the bus, craning his neck to see you and your yellow dress, for the last time in the bus that held all his adolescent love.

you didn’t look back at him.

-

your exams ended, you joined high school in a different part of the city, jungkook joined college in a different part but his home remained down the lane from yours.

you didn’t see him as much anymore, you only saw his car drive by through your window, but he did message you whenever he could, even if you didn’t see each other, you knew every person he knew, he knew every overbearing teacher you hated, you knew every class he skipped and that he started smoking, and he still knew just how to make you laugh to make you forget about the pressures of high school.

and calling him a friend, in the midst of all that, felt wrong, it felt so wrong, you were so alone in your high school, and he was the only tie to your familiar and comfortable past, so you confessed.

it wasn’t anything grand, you knew he liked you back, and you weren’t worried about getting rejected, but still, you held your breath as you typed a message to him.

you: i like you too.

you: it took me too long, didn’t it?

his reply was instantaneous.

jungkook: what.

then, your phone rang loudly, it almost fell from your hands and your mom eyed you suspiciously, you called out a friend's name to appease her and ran off to your room, shutting the door behind you and lifting the call with shaky hands.

“you’re not joking with me, are you?”

“no.”

“so, you like me?” you heard the smile in his voice and let your head fall against the door in a blissed-out sigh.

“i do.”

“really?”

you laughed, “really.”

“really, really?” you couldn’t stop giggling at the barely contained excitement and doubt in his voice, “really, really, jungkook.”

“fuck.” you faintly heard his laugh of disbelief on the other line and stopped yourself from sinking to the floor and talking to him for hours.

“text me, my mom’s awake still,” you mumbled, and he sighed but it was happy, it was out of relief, “yes, ma’am.”

jungkook ended the call with the biggest smile on his face, his back resting on his car, slid down as he tried not to squeal and jump in the air and his friends raised their eyebrows at him.

“what happened to you?”

“she told me she likes me,” he mumbled, the words feeling so much like a lie on his tongue but it was true, it was finally true, and even if he didn’t say the name, his friends knew exactly who it was, “holy shit, really?” they crowded around him and started demanding for details but he brushed them all off.

“i have to go, i have to text her, i can’t do that when i drive, you guys will get back by yourself right?” he didn’t wait for their reply as he got into his car and started the engine, all he heard before pulling away was, “that lucky bastard.”

and he was, he was the luckiest man in the world.

-

turns out, jungkook was the luckiest man in the world for a few moments only. you were so sweet sometimes that he wanted to wax poetry about you, but he had expected that after your confession, you could date, he could call you his girlfriend, and you would go out to the movies, he would feed you popcorn and your head would rest on his shoulders.

but.

“i just think labels aren’t necessary,” he tried not to frown too deeply as your voice swam into his ears, “what do you mean?” he sat up on his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hands.

“isn’t it enough that we like each other? why do we have to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“but why shouldn’t we?”

“jungkook, i don’t know how i feel about making it so…permanent,” on the other end of his phone, your eyes gathered tears because you didn’t know why you were saying the words you were, but the idea of dating seemed so immature to you, too troublesome and dramatic, you just wanted to like him and have him like you.

“are we not permanent?” he was only so young and so innocent; the words left him with a delicate veil of terror.

why weren’t you thinking of forever? you were his forever, was he not yours?

“how could we be permanent? we’re kids,” your nervous laughter twisted his guts but he didn’t say a word, “do you not think of a future with me?” jungkook felt pathetic asking the questions he did.

“it’s not like that jungkook, i like you, of course, i do but shouldn’t we worry about us here in the present than somewhere in the future?”

it made sense to you because you were already apart, he was in college, you were in high school, he smoked now, you hated that, you grew more cynical, he hated that and later, you would only be further apart, who was to say you would stand the test of time?

but i love you, hung on his lips.

he just mumbled, “okay.” he never was okay with it and his disappointment couldn’t have been louder.

“jungkook, i still like you-“ your mom called out to you and your panic rose to your throat, “my mom’s calling, i’ll text you, okay?” and the line went dead.

jungkook fell back on his bed, his head was now heavy with you, he couldn’t help but notice that you kept saying that you liked him.

you never said that you loved him.

-

you: our school function is on the 26th, this is our chance.

jungkook: are you telling me i finally get to meet my girlfriend?

you: haha not your girlfriend but yes, you finally get to meet the girl of your dreams.

jungkook: emma stone is coming?

you: very funny jungkook, i’ll block you.

jungkook: now don’t go and do that, what will you wear?

you: you will see that day, what will you wear?

jungkook: you will see that day :D

you: so annoying.

jungkook: only to you :]

you: i’m excited to see you.

jungkook: you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to see you.

-

at the school, your palms grew clammy as you walked around with your friends, and your dress flowed with you as you walked but you didn’t feel pretty that day. like every other teenager, you had a huge breakout of acne just the night before and you had cried, you didn’t want jungkook to see you like this.

you were sure that he had higher expectations for the girl he liked and while you usually didn’t care about others’ expectations of you, you cared about his.

you knew he was already in the school but you weren’t actively looking for him, you wanted to delay meeting him as much as you could, you didn’t want him to see your face and you didn’t look at your phone.

you let yourself be completely occupied with your friends even if you see him walk by a couple of times from the corner of your eyes. jungkook, on the other hand, just didn’t know how to approach you, he didn’t know if he’d be disturbing your time with your friends or if he’d annoy you by acting too clingy, so he stayed away as well.

sunny observed the whole exchange in bits and pieces and couldn’t believe how ridiculous you two were being. as his friend and your sister, she decided to take things into her own hands.

so, as you laughed and talked to your circle of friends, she pulled on your arm, took you aside, and whispered, “dude, why aren’t you talking to him? he’s been waiting for you.”

“i thought he was with his friends,” you lied, and she sighed, “he hasn’t hung out with them, to make sure he had time with you and i don’t know what is going on with you, but your boyfriend is waiting for you and you need to go.”

“not my boyfriend,” you mumbled as she dragged you around to where he was sitting.

until you saw him, very well-dressed, with shiny shoes, a crisp shirt, and a lopsided grin, none of what you had with him felt real.

but seeing him made it real, it made your love for him take a physical form, you weren’t sure you could handle that sense of reality just yet.

romance, love, affection, all of it was easy through a screen but seeing his finger ridges in real life and wanting to hold them, was hard.

“hey,” he mused, patting the spot next to him and you didn’t sit, you hid your face behind your hair and muttered a greeting, and sunny gagged next to you, “can you please not do this lovey-dovey shit in front of me?”

jungkook was enjoying it though, his girl, not his girlfriend apparently but still his girl, was too shy to see him.

the ever-fierce, angry, witty, and smart girl disappeared and in front of him, was just a girl in love. and even if you never said it, he felt it in the moment.

“okay, i’ll go now,” sunny said, but you grabbed her arm, “stay,” you whispered to her and she geared up to start cursing at you only for jungkook to say, “stay, it’s fine.”

he realized that if sunny was around, you would at least say a few things, because right now, he couldn’t see anything but your hair.

so, sunny stayed.

and they talked, you chimed in, it felt like the first day of talking to him on the bus. jungkook observed that you were a bit more grown up now, a bit taller, only a bit though and a bit softer than when you were in school, and just like he loved the loud, rude, and angry girl, he loved the soft, shy, still angry girl, that he was looking at.

you thought he was looking at you because you looked different, uglier, and that he was contemplating just letting you go.

but that night, when you returned home and texted him, you felt like the prettiest girl in the world.

you: so emma stone didn’t come, how do you feel?

jungkook: heartbroken but another girl made it up to me.

you: oh yeah, how was that?

jungkook: it was like i was seeing her for the first time again.

you: and?

jungkook: she’s more beautiful than i remember her being.

you: jungkook, i had pimples all over, you don’t have to lie to me.

jungkook: you don’t know yourself at all if you think some pimples take away from how beautiful you are.

you: you think so?

jungkook: i spent an hour looking at you, walking here and there in the school, so i’m confident about it.

you: i felt ugly today.

jungkook: that happens sometimes.

you: i don’t feel it anymore.

jungkook: you never should.

-

it was five days after the function, on new years, january 1st, that you two broke up.

things had been going so well but suddenly, they weren’t.

after the magical night at your school, he hung out with his friends a lot, and he started drinking, you were still too young for all that, and you were dying in your high school with never-ending exams and classes. both of you had forgotten about each other while also thinking of each other every second you could.

you were supposed to meet him on january 1st, in a café that he was raving about called the terrace, you had planned a whole thing so your parents wouldn’t get suspicious, you would go with your sisters to the café and come back with them, but spend all the time there with him.

it wasn’t easy to go behind your parents' back, it always felt like you were betraying them whenever you talked to jungkook but you were also in love, and your parents took a back seat for you on that day.

you waited in the café, and your sisters constantly asked where he was and when he was coming, you told them he would come in a minute or two, which stretched on for hours and the night ended with your sisters giving you pitiful gazes and long, silent hugs.

you came back home with an anger so familiar, so out of your control that you couldn’t see or say anything else.

“where were you?”

“i got drinks with my friends, i was going to leave i promise-“ and you cut the call, you watched your phone ring again and again until it went dead silent.

jungkook: please talk to me.

you: you know how difficult it is for me to come out with my parents watching my every move, you know how much i planned for this night and i did it because you kept blaming me for never going on dates.

jungkook: typing….

you: and when i do plan for a date, you end up going somewhere else?

jungkook: you think i don’t have a life of my own?

you blinked back tears that your anger let escape from your eyes, that was the first time you felt your chest physically hurt.

you: i never said that, jungkook.

jungkook: you know it’s funny because if you weren’t such a coward, maybe i wouldn’t have to beg you to meet me, maybe we would’ve already gone on dates, and today, i could enjoy with my friends the way i want to. you don’t even let me call you, my girlfriend.

you: don’t you dare call me a coward, my parents aren’t easy to deal with.

jungkook: saying that just makes you sound like even more of a coward.

you: if i’m such a coward, maybe you shouldn’t be with me anymore.

jungkook: maybe i shouldn’t, yeah.

you threw your phone aside, you wanted him to say i’m sorry, i fucked up, let me plan the next one, but instead, he was indifferent, as if nothing mattered to him anymore, as if you didn’t matter to him anymore.

you couldn’t picture this man as the same man who looked at you with stars in his eyes and a scary thought passed through your mind, he was madly in love with you only five days ago, and now, he wasn’t.

people could change, and then hurt you, so you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t let anyone have the power to hurt you anymore.

you: so, we’re done?

jungkook: yeah.

you: please don’t smoke anymore.

jungkook: what i do is none of your business anymore.

-

and that was that.

you blocked him everywhere and he wallowed in his self-pity for days, you didn’t know how he was, which new people he met, if he smoked two or three cigarettes in a day anymore and he didn’t know about anything going on in your class, or about the new biology subject they introduced or about your friend's antics.

it was like he was never there in your life in the first place.

right after the breakup, you didn’t cry, you didn’t feel anything, you went to high school normally the next day and smiled while telling your friends, “i’m finally single!”

they looked concerned, then they laughed at your indifference to the breakup but your best friend leaned and asked, “are you okay?” and you nodded happily, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”

but jungkook sadly wasn’t just a guy, he was your first love, your first ever brush with romance.

so, a month passed and you called your best friend.

sitting at the edge of your bed, you told her everything you knew about jungkook, you laughed at how stupid he could be sometimes, and you cursed him out for doing what he did but then, you started crying and you couldn’t stop crying, “i miss him, i miss my friend.”

she listened as you felt your heart finally tear apart inside you.

you knew you couldn’t trust anyone or love anyone again.

this time, it felt like a lifetime ended for you.

-

two years passed and you didn’t think of him anymore, you weren’t sure if he thought of you, you would only be reminded of his existence when exes and relationships came up in conversations with friends, those always ended with you bitterly cursing him.

you hated him.

the guy who showed you how love felt, was the guy you hated most now.

you moved cities, a better, bigger city and you tried to fall in love again, you did try.

you went on dates with your newly found freedom, you tried to like them and their stories, but the only stories that held any value to you from your youth were with or about jungkook. because you felt every face of your youth, with him.

and you couldn’t possibly talk about your first love with guys whose faces bled into each other until they all became one, and jungkook remained another.

but still, you rarely thought of him.

you didn’t think of him when you went on your first date ever (technically, you never went on a date with jungkook), you didn’t think of him when you called that guy every single night and told him superficial things about you, you never told him things that mattered, you had your first kiss and ended your first ever situationship.

but you weren’t hurt at all. you never gave another person the power to hurt you because you felt it once, and you had no intention to feel it again.

and after months of living in another city, you went back home for a while and your best friend insisted on going to the same café where you were supposed to meet jungkook, on the day of your breakup. it wasn’t her fault that it was the only good café in your tiny city.

you went.

you talked and laughed with your friend.

your phone pinged.

jungkook: you’re at the terrace?

perhaps, you forgot to mention that you unblocked him a while ago, it wasn’t to talk to him of course, it was just to remove negativity from your life (you wanted to feel that young love again).

you: yeah.

jungkook: wait.

you turned to your best friend with wide eyes, telling her that there was a huge possibility that jungkook was coming and she grimaced, she never liked him.

then, he strolled in, hands in pockets, and gave you this smile that covered years of doubt, you always thought he would glare at you and hate you but he just walked in, waved at you, and sat down without saying another word.

seeing him this up close after years of watching him from the corner of your eyes and the tilt of your head, filled you with a breathless excitement because he didn’t change, he didn’t change at all.

“hello, it’s been long,” he greeted you, and then the both of you broke into giggles at his formal tone, “it has been long, yeah.” you replied with a nod, begging for your eyes to hide their reviving affection.

then, you talked.

you had years to catch up on so you told him everything, you told him about your college, your still-horrible teachers, your friends, the new places you’ve explored, and how different everything was in the city you studied.

he listened with a carefulness that you never thought he possessed.

a simple but reckless thought caught you by the throat as jungkook leaned forward and laughed at something you said.

is this how it feels to make someone laugh?

is this how a date with him then would’ve been?

did i just miss out on everything good in life?

then, he told you everything and you listened.

jungkook stuttered multiple times because he had truly forgotten how his body got when you were around, he was suddenly aware of his every nerve, and he was aware of his fingertips that were centimeters apart from you, he was aware of your legs that were right next to his under the table and he was aware of you refusing to look at anyone but him as he spoke.

not even once did either of you acknowledge january 1st from two years ago.

“it’s 6 right now,” your best friend reminded you and you gasped, “already? shit, we have to go,” jungkook’s disappointment fell like water over his head and flooded his shoulders.

“where do you have to go?” he asked, as casually as he could.

“we have to meet another friend, a little bit far from here, so we’ve got to get going,” you said, and jungkook nodded, his car keys twirled in his hands, “do you mind dropping us?”

he almost jumped out of his seat to say yes, but remembered himself and nodded once again, “not a problem at all.”

all three of you were silent as you walked to his car which turned out to be a jeep of sorts, no surprises there and your friend got in the back, you got in the front and buckled your seat belt, your chest compressed a bit more as you tried to wave all of this as something friends did.

you were friends with him, in some way.

he got in as well and you felt twitchy in your seat, your eyes took in the unfamiliar car and jungkook watched as you saw another new thing in his life with boundless curiosity.

“you vape now?” you saw the three vapes thrown in the middle of the seat and he shrugged, “sometimes, you wanna try?” you shook your head, both as a reply to him and to shake away the odd memory of january 1st, when you had begged him to stop smoking.

“do you still smoke?”

“yep.”

you didn’t say anything as your heart sank.

he handed you his phone, as if it wasn’t something that contained everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets, he told you his passcode and let you choose whatever song you liked.

and as you scrolled through his song library, you found many songs that you had recommended to him years ago, “you still listen to these?”

jungkook tensed up, clearing his throat, he answered, “sometimes.”

you didn’t probe any further.

you didn’t play the songs you recommended either, things were weird already.

on the way, jungkook talked to your friend and then you, you talked to him, played all the songs you liked and at every stop sign, you ignored jungkook looking at you with a smile and soft eyes, as you turned to talk to your friend.

when you got down, you had a brief, disgusting thought of asking him to drive you around and just staying in his car to find out everything you missed in two years.

but you didn’t, you got down, you thanked him, he tipped his invisible hat at you and smiled, and you looked away, waving at him.

“not a word from you,” you told your smirking friend as you walked away from his car.

the rest of the night, you dreamed as your friends talked and got loud, you sighed as if you had someone to miss, you checked your phone constantly for any messages from him and sighed again when you didn’t get any.

but at midnight, your phone pinged.

jungkook: never thought i’d see you in my car lol.

you: never thought i’d be in your car.

jungkook: well, i’m always there if you need me.

jungkook: for a ride, i mean.

you: i’m always there too.

you: to give you company in your big, lonely car, i mean.

jungkook: is that so?

you: yeah, good night jungkook.

jungkook: god, good night.

both of you fell asleep with hope brimming in your dreams that night.

-

so, it started again, you texted every day, you told him everything you did in a day and he did the same for you, he still had this incredible ability to make you laugh when you felt down and you still fascinated him to no bounds.

and days bled into each other, you returned to the city where you studied, feeling a bit more homesick than you had before.

you got to know that he had failed some subjects in class, “how many?” you whispered as if it was a secret that no one should know, you couldn’t imagine failing, and he laughed, “it’s only five, you don’t have to ask like that,” but five failed subjects would’ve given you a heart attack.

he got to know that you started research with your professor, “will i understand even if you tell me what it is?” and you laughed, “i don’t think so,” he would later console you when the professor steals your work, “he sounded like a dick anyway, you deserve a much better mentor,” he pursed his lips when he heard you sniff on the other end, “do you think so?” and he couldn’t believe how little faith you had in yourself, “of course, i do.”

you started talking at night too, and those conversations, well, you never thought you would think of them again because they were so raw and so true and they reminded you of things that you thought you had forgotten.

through a phone, you both laid your hearts bare.

“have you been with anyone after…” his voice was rougher than you remembered, as if age and life had worn it down but both of you were still so young.

you weren’t as young as you once were though.

“yeah, one guy. and you?” you twisted the necklace resting on your collarbones as you asked him slowly, you didn’t want to know but you also wanted to know.

“a couple of people, yeah.”

“oh.” your disappointment was only felt by the four walls holding you in your room.

“none of them worked out though…none of them felt real,” jungkook bounced the smiley face foam ball in his hand as he stared up at the wall.

you didn’t know if he said that to console you or if it was just how things went.

“why not?”

“well, it all got so physical, there was no love or affection, i mean i didn’t feel it at all,” and you sucked in a breath, trying not to let jealousy coat your tongue when you spoke, “physical, huh.”

“don’t say it like that,” he laughed, sitting up on his bed, “these days, that’s how it goes, it shouldn’t but yeah, i guess sex just takes a front seat in relationships now.”

you didn’t want to talk about sex with jungkook, you didn’t want to know who he did it with.

“maybe.” you answered dismissively and he laughed again, “ey why are you being so awkward about it? it’s a natural thing,” and you groaned in embarrassment, “can we change the subject?”

“of course,” you sighed out in relief, “tell me, have you done anything at all?” you wanted to hit him through the phone and you let him know that, “i’m going to hit you, i swear to god, jungkook.”

“you gotta catch a flight for that now, so” he whistled into the phone and you didn’t fight the smile growing on your face, there were no witnesses except the darkness in your room, you were free to do whatever.

“i’ve only had my first kiss,” and jungkook regretted asking the question.

he had always thought he would be your first kiss.

“oh yeah?” he asked, no longer interested in knowing but for you, because it was already out, you wanted to share more with him, as a friend, so you kept going, “yeah, it was in a car,” your first kiss wasn’t bad, honestly it was everything anyone would want in a first kiss.

after saying that, you realized how dirty kissing in a car sounded, so you gasped and corrected, “but it was just a kiss, nothing else happened.”

jungkook shook his head, smiling into his phone, you still sounded so young, so much like the girl he fell in love with, “you don’t have to explain anything to me or anyone, you know that right?”

“right.” you breathed out, scolding yourself for overreacting.

“but, you know,” he said, in a softer tone, as if his next words contained magic, “yeah?” you whispered, your fingers now clutching your locket with all your strength.

“i love what we had,” and your breath hitched, your eyes filled with tears, and your adolescence that loved him reared its head again, “our love was so pure.” he continued, sighing into the phone as he turned over in his bed.

he never loved anyone the way he loved you, he didn’t even know he was capable of so much love until he met you and jungkook gave up on feeling it all again.

he waited for your reply with bated breath, not knowing if he went too far.

“it was.”

he smiled again; his heart filled with something that he tried to push away.

“don’t you have class tomorrow?” he asked, glancing at the clock that shined bright with 3:34, and you yawned, “it’s fine, keep talking.”

jungkook bit his lip to stop himself from squealing in happiness, you wanted to stay awake just to talk to him, “still, we have tomorrow, we can talk later, you go and get some sleep.”

and there was silence for a few seconds before another yawn came from you, “you know what, you’re right but we’ll talk later,” you said, a bit dazed from how sleepy you were.

“i’m always right,” he snickered and you scoffed, “whatever, good night, jungkook.”

“good night.”

you couldn’t stop thinking of his voice saying that your love was pure even when you dozed off and he clutched his phone to his heart, he could only wait for tomorrow to come sooner.

-

it was nice, not knowing exactly what you guys were or acknowledging your past, it was nice to pretend that you had never hurt each other in the first place. and many days passed by with both of you together, but not together.

“what did you do today?” you hummed into the phone as you fell onto your bed, you heard shuffling on the other side, and then noises, “uh i’m out right now,” his voice came in gargled and broken.

“oh, okay.” somehow, even if you tried to not think of it, you thought of how he never showed up to what would have been your first-ever date because he was out.

“i’ll call you later, is that alright?” he sounded like he was screaming over the sound and you couldn’t help but feel dejected, even if you had no right to feel that way now, “yeah, sure. have fun, good night.” you tried your best to sound perky and the call ended.

what were you even doing?

how did you think that talking to your ex would go or end well?

and why were you even still talking to the guy who broke your trust in people?

you rolled around on your bed, not being able to fall asleep, and not wanting to stay awake either, eventually, you gave up and read a book until you dozed off.

when you woke up the next day, there were no texts or calls from jungkook the way he’d promised he would. you threw your phone aside and got ready for the day.

then you woke up the day after, still nothing from him. and the day after, the day after that, and many days which you spent frustrated and alone.

you should’ve known how it would end with him.

-

jungkook: hellooo (4:40 pm).

you: hey (8:30 pm).

jungkook: busy day? (9:00 pm)

you: pretty hectic, yeah. (10:30 pm)

jungkook: call? (11:04 pm)

you: i’m pretty tired, another day? (11:10 pm)

jungkook: tomorrow? (11:24 pm)

you: another day. (11:37 pm)

jungkook: okay, good night. (11:45 pm)

you: good night. (12: 20 am)

jungkook: typing…

jungkook: typing…

he threw his phone away.

-

you weren’t sure exactly how it happened but soon, there were no messages or calls from jungkook, you heard from sunny that he shifted from the home down your lane but you didn’t bother texting or calling him either, you held your head high during the day and missed his voice in the night.

after a couple of weeks of minimal communication, you returned home with a nervous smile on your face, you hoped no one in your house noticed how often you checked your phone or how you sometimes talked to yourself in the darkness of your room.

you went back to the same café, again it was no one’s fault that there wasn’t a better café in your city, you sat across your best friend, sipping on your hot chocolate and nodding to whatever she said, trying not to avert your gaze to your surroundings.

you’re sure you saw jungkook outside, but you’re not sure if he saw you and a nervous pit sat in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

why did meeting him feel like the first time every single time?

you shook your head, leaning in to hear your best friend until she got up to use the restroom, you leaned back on your chair and let out a sigh.

you couldn’t even enjoy some good brunch without thinking of his ridiculous face.

then, the door opens and you pay no mind to it, you scroll through your phone, liking and watching reels and then someone sits next to you, and your eyes immediately snap up to tell them to fuck off.

but then your eyes melt.

“hey,” jungkook smiles, one of his cheeks pressed against his fist that propped him up and you almost smile back, you almost forget everything again.

the calls he never made, the texts he never sent, how he acted suddenly too busy for you, the invisible rejection, you were ready to forget it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be okay with that.

“is it easy for you?” he sits up, his smile wavers a bit, “what do you mean?”

“is it easy for you to act like nothing happened? like we never fought and broke up?” you didn’t recognize your voice; it came out so stern but you felt so weak.

“but nothing happened, sure we broke up, but that’s a normal thing, everyone goes through breakups and ends up as friends.”

“are we friends?”

he does not answer, he looks away instead at the painting of a dog on the wall.

and your anger almost runs you over.

“jungkook, are we friends?”

“…yeah.” he hesitates, jungkook feels his heart in his throat as you stare at him with so much disappointment and so much hurt, he never knew that you cared about the breakup, he had always thought that you would’ve moved on very quickly but the tears flashing in your eyes proved him wrong.

he didn’t know what to do with the fact that you were hurt during the breakup, he only pitied himself and thought of himself but he never stopped to think that maybe you had enough love for him, to feel hurt too.

“as my friend, i need to tell you something then,” you gathered your courage, you were going back tomorrow so you wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of it.

“go on,” he bit his lips and tapped his fingers on the table, and your friend walked back in, she raised her eyebrows at his figure sitting next to you and then looked at you with both concern and a thousand questions.

you stared at her with pursed lips and she nodded, grabbing her earphones, putting them on, and sitting across from you, head and eyes turned away from your conversation.

“i think i started liking you again,” you still liked him, “somewhere in the middle, i got a bit confused and my feelings grew again.” you watched his reaction with careful eyes, he only looked back at you with blinking eyes.

“but i don’t like you,” came his reply, and you sucked in a breath, heartbreak fresh as ever settled in your chest.

then, why did you call me at night and tell me our love was pure?

“i know, that’s why i said it in the past tense, i don’t feel that way anymore,” but you did, you just couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“well then, that’s good, right? we can go back to being normal.” he clapped his hands with a joyous smile that made you want to rip his head off, “no, i don’t think i can do this anymore.”

his hands fell and so did his smile, his ego returned and put a scowl on his face.

“can you make a decision here?” he thought back to all the times you corrected him when he called you his girlfriend and his annoyance grew above his head.

“i am making a decision here, don’t get snappy with me” you spat back at him, your mind flooded with every time he led you on and hurt you, “i can’t do this confusing shit with you anymore, i don’t think we can ever be friends and i don’t see a point in trying to force it.” you huffed out, falling back on your seat.

“so, we just never talk again?” he mumbled, you couldn’t read his face anymore.

“i guess so, yeah,” another lifetime of yours flashed before your eyes as he nodded, pushing the salt and pepper shakers on the table, and then he got up abruptly.

please don’t run, please make me stay this one time, you tried to beg without saying a single word.

“then, let’s do that,” jungkook nodded at you again, he nodded at your friend and left the chair as it was before he ever came.

once again, it felt like he never existed in your life before this.

“are you okay?” your best friend’s earphones were now neatly folded on the table, and you nodded furiously, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”

-

years passed again.

he cleared his subjects from what you’ve heard, you were done with your degree, on time unlike him, from what he’s heard and jungkook was on another step of his life again.

he stared at the unfamiliar faces in his class with resignation and sighed to himself, jungkook kept lifting and dropping his phone at every notification and groaning every time he saw it was from his life insurance, his one message remained unread.

jungkook: i start my master's today. (5:00 am)

he stared at the message until his eyes grew blurry, it was noon now and you hadn't seen it, intentionally of course, and just when he put it down one more time, he heard a ping.

you: good luck. (11:45 am)

he stared at it until he grew annoyed and deleted the entire chat.

-

you were going to america to study, it had taken a lot out of you in preparation for it and after hugging your parents and family goodbye and crying for hours in the airport, you pulled out your phone and nervously hovered over his profile. you started typing with dried-up tear streaks on your face.

you: i’m going to america today.

jungkook: really?

jungkook felt uneasy about the sudden large distance between you two even if you hadn’t spoken in ages.

jungkook: all the best.

jungkook: be happy, always.

you bit your lip as you looked away with a quivering chin and tears lined your eyes again, you deleted the entire chat too.

-

a year into being on a new continent, you felt all kinds of homesickness and excitement for your new home still, you worked harder than you ever had. and as bad as it sounds, you had forgotten that you once knew a boy called jungkook or that you ever loved him with your entire being.

he had become a thing of the past, something you never talked about anymore even if your friends brought up exes and relationships, he became a ghost of sorts, and only you could see him now.

you didn’t know what he was up to, if he ever finished his masters or racked up backlogs there too and you didn’t bother yourself by thinking about it too much.

but when it came to jungkook, you didn’t have to think about him to come into your life, he just came and went whenever he wanted.

nothing else could explain why you would find him, of all people in the world, under the neon lights of a house party that you were at, on a different continent.

and you didn’t feel anything, not any residual love or even the desire to be near him, you just felt wary about seeing him again.

he also saw you and gave a nervous smile. you smiled back and disappeared into the balcony.

suddenly, your wariness grew into pain, and your pain grew into a longing that you shouldn’t feel anymore.

you slid down on the wall and brought your knees up to hug them as you laid your head on your thighs and breathed, just breathed.

the balcony door opened again.

you knew who it was. maybe you had hoped that this would happen too, but for now, you didn’t look at him.

you heard his groan as he sat down beside you, his hands and knees almost touching yours.

and that’s when you realize, in all the years you’ve known him, this was the closest he ever came to you.

was this why he had called your love pure then?

because you had never touched each other, but felt each other in every corner of your existence?

“what are you doing here?” you whispered into your legs but he still heard you, “vacation, didn’t think i’d see you here.”

“i didn’t think either.”

“kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” he laughed with emotion you couldn’t decipher, his warmth bled into you as you leaned on him a bit.

you felt the shape of a cigarette box in his pockets but swallowed your hurt.

after years, maybe you just wanted to touch him and see what it’s like. and he didn’t question your knees knocking against his.

“that we keep running into each other? i’m starting to think you stalk me,” you teased, a small weight of your longing lifted off you.

“oh please, if anything, you are stalking me,” he teased right back, feeling himself ease into this situation with you, just like every other time.

but as nice as it was to be this comfortable, you were still so consumed with questions that haunted you. and there was no one else here, no best friends, no sisters, no parents to worry about, no one but you and him.

“why didn’t you admit that you liked me back then?” you lifted your head to stare at him, there was no malice in your question nor any accusation, just curiosity.

“so, you knew?” he cleared his throat with a sheepish smile on his face, jungkook’s eyes shined the same way they had when you were in that bus, all those years ago.

“you told me our love was pure at 3 am, it wasn’t too hard to understand,” you shrugged, as if saying it out loud didn’t take your entire heart out of your chest.

he shook his head while laughing softly, “always such a smartass,” and you smiled, “you’re just too dumb.”

that’s when he really laughed and the stars of the night came together to light his face up as he threw his head back, you stopped yourself from falling in love again.

“well,” he breathed out, jungkook’s face contorted to become more serious and you knew that whatever he said next took a lot for him too.

“you always felt too big for my love, as if i could give you everything and that still wouldn’t be enough.”

your eyes dropped at their corners.

“what?”

“i don’t know, you were always so passionate, so good to others, so fucking smart and you had your shit figured out, you always told me these things that sounded so magical but i never fully understood them. i knew i couldn’t ever match up to that, even if i loved you with all of me,” he whispered, he clenched his eyes shut to avoid looking at you as he spoke, “i knew that even if i loved you, i couldn’t love you the way someone else could, someone who could love and match up to you.”

“jungkook,” you whispered too but your voice broke, and your throat grew scratchy with emotion.

“i’m telling the truth by the way, when you said you were leaving for america, it took everything in me to not pack a bag and follow you,” then, he opened his eyes and looked at you, you felt like you were back in 9th grade, staring at him with a tilt of your head.

“why did you say you stopped liking me then?” he asked next and waited patiently for you to wipe the corners of your eyes.

“i was always afraid that somewhere i would disappoint you and the idea of our relationship. you liked me so much and i felt that i had to live up to what you liked, otherwise, you wouldn’t like me and i’d be alone again,” you whispered the last part slower than anything else, “that wasn’t your fault though, i guess i was just scared of not being who i thought we would be.”

you sniffed and stared at your feet that lined up with his.

he stayed silent beside you until your sniffs grew louder.

then, he pulled your head over his shoulder and let you cry until the sunrise came and took away everything that the night tried to protect.

you woke up in an empty bed the next morning and when you left, you saw jungkook sitting on the couch, long arms stretching over the back of it, you stopped for a second to see if he’d get up and wrap them around you, to acknowledge all the love he showed you last night, you waited for him to utter a word that would make you stay.

but he only blinks at you.

you run out the door, you don’t know if his voice calling to you was him, or a creation of your deepest, most shameful wishes.

-

several years passed once more.

you don’t know why you invited jungkook to your wedding, you didn’t know if he would even come, but seeing him enter through the same doors that your now-husband had, pierced you with something sharp. he came up the stage, his eyes never left your face, and stood next to you for a photograph.

you didn’t look to see if he smiled or not. his hands hovered over your waist and your breath got caught in your throat, jungkook handed your husband a bouquet with a polite smile, he looked older, and quieter but his eyes remained shiny as ever.

when he started to pull apart and leave, you grabbed his arm, “stay for dinner, okay?” and he nodded, giving you a playful salute and exiting the stage.

you smiled at your husband and continued to take photos.

at dinner, you and your husband sat next to him as polite hosts would and talked about superficial things; jobs, taxes, work-life balance, and life.

“i think i’ll leave now,” he got up from his seat and you got up too, “i’ll see him off and come back,” you squeezed your husband’s hands which jungkook looked away from.

outside, it was just the two of you again.

“do you love him?” you weren’t shocked at his question.

“i do.” you really do.

“but you never loved me, did you?” he laughed bitterly, but his face held years of hurt and you held back your tears.

“i did.” you really did.

jungkook had been waiting to hear those words for half of his life and now that he’s heard them, he thinks he can let you go now.

“it was not easy for me to invite you.” you admitted with a nervous laugh, your eyes darting down to the gravel road.

“it isn't easy for me to be here,” he loosened his tie around his neck and his voice now reminded you of how old your first love got and how far away you were from the bus where you fell in love.

“but god, after so long,” your voice held every bit of yearning and nostalgia you felt.

a montage of your very young, very long, and very stupid love played in your eyes and you blinked it away.

“it sucks that we didn't work out.” it didn’t just suck, if jungkook told you how he really felt about seeing you with your husband, you would slap him.

he could do better, he won’t but he could.

“maybe we were just supposed to love each other then, you know? maybe it wasn't supposed to grow at all,” you answered, even if you knew it wasn’t entirely the truth, your love growing was out of your control.

but maybe you two weren’t ever supposed to love each other so much, maybe you were supposed to love each other a little and then let it go but both of you had been stubborn, both of you clung onto the innocence of your love, something that you paid the price for, for years.

“i dont know about all that, i just know that our love was-“

“pure.” you told and jungkook smiled, shaking his head, “yes, pure.”

“i still don't know why i loved you so much,” jungkook wondered why it had started, the deep infatuation and affection he held for you, was unnatural.

“i don't either,” you never understood why your lives were entangled for so long.

“will i see you again?” there was no hope in his tone, only a simple question with a simple affection.

“no, i think this is a good ending point, don't you?”

“so i don't get to show off my wife like you showed off your husband?”

“well in that case, maybe we will.” though, you burned on the inside as you imagined another person standing next to him.

“right, maybe we will.”

a silent smile passed between you two and when jungkook left, he squeezed your hands, “thank you for letting me feel love so early in my life. i wish you and your husband well.”

“thank you for loving me so early in my life. i wish you and your future wife well.”

he walked away but he looked back.

please don’t stay with him for too long.

you gave a weak smile.

please don’t find someone else.

and then you separated, another lifetime ended but this time, for the both of you.

#bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenarios #namfinessed #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fic recs #bts fics #bts masterlist #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts fanfic

[finelinevogue]

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

[ourautumn86]

ପ look like an angel ଓ

modern! college ellie williams x innocent reader!

part 2!<3

summary; ellie williams, the college’s most popular dealer takes an interest in you, the most angelic sweet shy girl she had ever landed eyes on. and when the opportunity arises, she makes a move. she wants you to be hers.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, slight sa (a guy gropes readers ass before ellie punched him), blood, fighting, cursing, mentions of drugs such as weed, consumption of weed, extremely innocent (ellie is pretty much her first time in everything), making out, humping plushies —ellie shows reader how to and watches—, dirty thoughts, tension, teasing, ellie uses pretty names for reader, no use of y/n, dom! ellie and sub! reader, praising, choking, finger fucking (r receiving), thigh riding (r), oral sex (r receiving), hickeys, piv sex, strap on sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit playing and sucking, cum eating, squirting…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

-

ellie williams was not a good person. she was rough, harsh and couldn’t care less about the rest. she liked very few people. and had two friends: jesse and dina. but she also was very popular. she was the best dealer in her college, and had a million of girls fawning over her shoulders for god knows why. she didn’t really care about them anyways.

not when there was you.

you and your beautiful smile, which seemed to brighten up any room you were in. you and your sweet perfume, which made her want to hide on your neck for hours on end. you and your soft voice, bambi eyes and soft perfect hair…

you were shy, always talking with your honey sweet voice that made her bones melt. you were also smart, the smartest girl in your whole course, though you never really showed it off.

you loved white, and soft colors, but you’ll always go for a baby pink. your lips were always shining in a pinkish gloss that distracted ellie a little bit too much, but not as much as the tiny skirts and stockings that you liked to wear on a daily basis.

you looked like a doll, like a goddamn angel.

and maybe you were, ‘cause you were so… innocent.

you didn’t like drinking, or smoking, or parties. you’ve never dared to go to one. just the thought of it gave you goosebumps. and you’ve never even thought about the possibility of taking drugs.

your days were calm. always the same routine. go to college, get to your dorm, study and go to bed. it was simple. but you always had time for yourself though; reading a book, writing on your journal, listening to pop music…

the perfect student. the perfect girl.

and ellie… well. ellie was ellie. a complete opposite from you.

she was kind of a mess. always on her own world. she never took notes in class, instead filling notebooks with her drawings. she still passes with straight A’s her tests though —something Dina couldn’t really believe, always saying that she was bribing the teachers with free weed—.

she wore black. mostly. or things such as sweats and tank tops. and obviously, no makeup. as her father said once… not very girly. but she didn’t really cared. her hair was always in a bun somehow, half up or all the way up. and quiet. she liked to listen, and watch.

that’s why she knew so many things about you even if she hadn’t talked to you once. not once in the whole course even when you sat together on most of your classes.

you were always alone and by the windows, liking the silence and the views that the garden of the school offered you. you didn’t have anything else to look at from that to the chalkboard, since to your right was sitting ellie. and you never looked mat ellie.

you couldn’t, ‘cause your heart would start to beat too fast and your cheeks would flush. at first you thought the feeling in your stomach anytime she would be near was fear. she was quite intimidating. but then you started to notice that you’d stare a little bit too much at her.

she was always listening to music. she also played some sports from time to time with jesse and his friends —she likes to exercise and you could see that in the muscular yet thin body that she had—. she had a scar on her right eyebrows and the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, always rimmed in a reddish color. she had freckles too, and auburn hair that shone when the sun hit her. she was popular. way too popular. with all the girls of your class head over heels for her. you would blush anytime they’d gossip about her, talking about her muscles, and her tattoo, and…

her hands.

the girls had said something about her hands, about how good the looked, and ‘how good they could make them feel’. you didn’t really knew how her hands would make them feel good… maybe if ellie played with their hair?

also, having them around their necks. you’d frowned. wouldn’t that hurt? i mean in the series that your dad watched, it didn’t look alright… since characters would die by it and stuff.

but you had to agree that her hands were pretty, nails short and slim large fingers.

you looked away when you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

shit. you were staring again.

why were you feeling so hot all of a sudden? you were feeling kind of sticky too.

you sighed in relief when you heard the class being dismissed, quickly getting everything on your backpack to leave the class. ellie got the last goodbye of your perfume when you dashed by.

you were quick to get to your locker, opening it to show cute decorations and pictures, along with books and notebooks.

you were putting some stuff inside your backpack when suddenly a voice startled you.

“hey beautiful.” you turned around to face a boy with brown eyes and short wavy brown hair. you flushed, ‘cause you didn’t know him at all, and you were shy with strangers. he smiled. “i was just wondering if you’d be up to letting me take you out on a date.” your eyes shot open. “you know… you could always wear one of those pretty skirts for me. would make it so much easier once we get in the back of the car.” he stepped closer, and you backed up until your back was hitting your back.

“uhm… i don’t think…”

“come on, don’t be a prude. you’re basically asking for the attention, i can almost see your whole fucking ass.” you squealed when you felt his hand land on it, grabbing your skin and harshly digging his fingers. you were about to push him away when someone else was doing it for you.

the boy cursed when he received a good solid right hook straight to his nose, making it start bleeding.

“she said no, fucking asshole.” and then your heart was beating like crazy again, ‘cause i’m front of you was standing ellie williams, with a scowl on her face and her knuckles bathed in blood. you stared at her, and then at the boy. “if you wanted a little bit of skin contact you should have asked me. i have plenty to give.” she smirked, devilish, before punching again.

when dina and jesse finally came up to her to calm her down, the guy was already bleeding on the floor, and her knuckles were burning up.

but she wasn’t really listening to their worried questions, ‘cause she was looking at you.

“are you okay?”

-

after that, you and ellie grew closer. she made you feel safe. she kept you safe. no more guys had even dared to stare at you. but people seemed to approach you more since they’d seen you around her. something ellie really didn’t like.

“ellie…, you need to stop being so mean.” your doe eyes were staring at her, your soft voice making her heart beat faster. “they were just being nice.” you said as a pair of girls had come up to you to tell you how much they loved your outfit.

“a little bit too nice.” she muttered, one of her arms surrounding your shoulders to pull you flush close to her side. your stomach jumped. “although is true, you look really pretty today princess.” she smiled, and you blushed.

you stuttered and a smirk took over her lips.

“why are you getting so shy about now, hm? look at me sweet girl.” she said, leaning closer and down to catch your eyes.

“nothing. thank you ellie.” you gave her a sweet and shy smile. and she had to stop the urge to just kiss the hell out of you then.

fuck, had you ever even been kissed before?

“you’re welcome, angel.”

you opened the door to your dorm room, and ellie thought she might as well be a genius, ‘cause of course this was heaven and you were indeed an angel.

it smelled of your sweet perfume and cherries —probably due to the difusor on your desk—. it was filled with pink and books, and cute pictures everywhere. you had even your own little plants sitting on your window. they were being well taken care of, petals on full display and color. trinkets were laying everywhere, and it was clean and tidy. you even had plushies on your bed. ellie’s heart squeezed when an image of you hugging them to sleep went through your mind. jesus christ. you were so cute…

ellie just wanted to move in. stay in there forever. change her place with your plushies and hold you herself.

ellie took a seat on your bed, and soft blankets received her. you looked at her, and a happy smile crossed your plushy lips.

“what are you smiling at, hm?” she inquired.

“dunno. just… like you here.” you shrugged, cheeks flushing.

“i like being here too, baby.” she smiled and you blushed.

you two spent some time together watching some films, and talking. ellie loved to hear you talk, even if you were sometimes a little bit too shy to try.

now, ellie was smoking.

of course you knew she smoked, you really didn’t mind her doing it on your room as well. you also knew that ellie dealt weed. everybody knew. but you had never gone anywhere near it. so this was a first time for you. it interested you though. you’d always been scared of it. in the end it was a drug and drugs were harmful, but this one… this one seemed good. it made ellie feel good. more relaxed. and it made her happy. laugh more. talk more. get closer…

she always made sure to not let the smoke of the blunt even go near you, always blowing it away from you. you still could smell it around the room, that earthy calming smell now fusing with your own. ellie couldn’t love more the idea of leaving something ‘hers’ in your room, to leave a mark.

she was laughing, but her heart was slow, you could feel it on your back as she had pulled you in between her legs. you couldn’t help but blush at the touch. she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. not with you. you were as soft as she had imagined, and warm. so warm it was making it hard to hug you closer. and being high only made it worse.

“ellie…” you said, your eyes on the blunt in between her fingers.

“what is it pretty girl?” she muttered, putting away with a strand of your hair that had fallen on your face.

“can i… try it?” you muttered, eyes shiny and full of curiosity.

“you want to try smoking? you sure about that baby?” she made sure, and you nodded. “okay.” she smiled, and gently passed you the blunt. her hands were so warm it made your cheeks flush. you liked it. liked it when she kept you close. your stomach did funny things when she would touch you. “you need to inhale softly, alright, we don’t want you choking.” you nodded once again. slowly pulling it to your glossy and pink lips. you took a soft drag, making your throat burn. you felt the need to cough, but you waited it out, blowing out the smoke again. ellie’s smile grew. “there she is. atta girl.”

you squirmed at her praise, whole body running hot. you two shared the joint ‘till it burned out. taking soft drags that slowly became deeper and harsher. your mind was getting fuzzy, and your body was tingly. also ellie had started to draw little circles with her thumb on your thigh, caressing your skin. and you were shaking.

“how you feeling, baby?” your eyes were glassed over, and half lidded, rimmed in red.

“feels good els.” a silly smile crept up your face and she smiled as well.

“yeah?”

you nodded, snuggling into her chest. and ellie knew that jesse and dina would have probably teased her about how her whole face flushed red.

shit. she was in deep.

you loved it. how she made you feel. how your heart raced and your tummy filled with butterflies. but there was something else too, this throbbing in between your legs, this uncomfortable and warm feeling that had you squirming with every new pass of her thumb over your skin.

“you okay, pretty girl?” she inquired, taking notice of your little frown.

“hurts.” you muttered in a little hurt voice that had her heart shaking.

“hurts? where does it hurt baby?” she inquired, and your cheeks flushed. you hid your face on her chest and she cooed. “hey.” she took your chin in between her index and thumb to make you look at her. she almost cursed. your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, glossed over. your lips looked plushy and red, and your cheeks were flushed in crimson. “what is it?” she asked you again, this time harsher. there was something in her eyes that made you squeeze your thighs together. she saw it. “aw… baby…” she hummed and you whimpered. “does your little pussy hurt?” you nodded, flushing impossibly red.

“uh-huh…” you hiccuped. “every time you are around.” you said, and ellie almost choked. oh god. shit. fuck.

“every time i’m around? i leave you hurting every time i leave baby?” you nodded once again and she couldn’t help but curse under her breath. “want me to help you make it stop?” and one last time, you nodded. “okay. why don’t you help me take this off first, hm?” she inquired as her hands slowly made their way under your skirt —which had riled up your hips— and onto your beautiful little cotton panties. “that’s it, good girl.” she praised when you did, helping her push them down your thighs and legs, and you couldn’t help but whimper, cheeks burning, ‘cause it made the pain in your cunt worsen. “shh, it’s okay baby.” she hummed, her hand back to your thigh to caress your skin. “fuuuck. you’re so wet, angel.” she groaned when she took a glimpse at your panties and pussy, completely soaked. she just wanted to fucking ruin you with her strap, have that pussy of yours leaking on it and cumming over and over again. she wanted to ruin you. but she knew she couldn’t. not yet. you didn’t even know what being turned on was until now. she would scare the shit out of you. she had to take it slow… patience ellie. patience… “why don’t you choose one of your plushies out for me, hm?” she asked, and your eyes fell on your plushies. it was a quick response. you went for your favorite. mr hops. your little white beautiful bunny. “atta girl. now i want you to push it against your pussy baby.” she muttered against your neck, and you shivered. you blushed, even more when when ellie saw your shyness decided to cup your hand with hers to guide the plushie in between your legs. you couldn’t help but moan when the nose of the bunny bumped against your puffy little button. “that’s it.” she praised. “move it just like that baby.” she smirked when she saw how you unconsciously started to drag it up and down on your cunt, humping the plushy. your eyes were pricking with tears. ‘cause your whole body seemed to be exploding in pleasure, and it felt so good… her hand helping you with her movements, her voice praising you and calling you good girl every time you’d moan and whimper…

shit.

“ellie…” you whimpered, feeling pressure building up in your stomach. something felt about to snap. and you couldn’t stop moaning. it was as if you were reaching out for something you didn’t know what it was but needed.

“you gonna cum pretty girl? of course you are… such a good girl grinding her pretty cunt on her plushy. look at you. so fucking beautiful. let go for me baby, let go.” your vision went dark, and your ears rung. you couldn’t stop moaning and whimpering, your hips unconsciously rocking against mr hops to ride out your first ever orgasm. it was like nothing you’ve experienced before. it was like dying and coming back to life at the same time.

ellie groaned, holding you through it, your back arching against her chest as you fell apart. shit. she almost came on her own pants.

“that’s it, princess. now breath for me. you did amazing angel. so good for me.” she left a soft little peck on your forehead as she left soft rubs on one of your thighs. “good girl …”

-

after that night you had tried to take care of yourself like ellie had taught you. you’d hump your little bunny every night after she’d leave, trying to not make much noise so your flat mates on the other dorm rooms wouldn’t hear you. but you couldn’t make yourself cum anymore. not if she wasn’t there with you. you had started to wonder if instead of your plushy ellie would ever make you feel good too. touch you there.

one night, you were huffing, grinding down on your bunny unable to cum —like every other night—. every time you’d get close, the feeling would fade away and leave you tearing up and rolling in your bed without knowing how to make the ache go away.

that’s why, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you got up on your wobbly legs, you put back on your panties and pj shorts and went to her dorm. she opened after you left two knocks on her door.

ellie’s face completely changed when she saw the tears falling down your cheeks.

“woah, hey, hey…” she cooed when you jumped to her arms. “you okay sweet girl? what happened?” you hiccuped and held you closer to her chest.

“ellie please help me…” you whimpered and she pulled you into her dorm, closing the door.

“what is it baby? what’s wrong?” she rubbed your back as you squirmed.

“i can’t… i can’t make myself feel good anymore like you taught me. it hurts…” you cried.

“aw, baby… you can’t make your pretty little pussy cum, hm?” she cooed, and you nodded. “mr hops can’t make you feel good anymore?” your heart skipped a beat at her soft teasing.

“stop teasing me… it’s mean.” you pouted, and she falsely frowned and mimicked you.

“am i being mean to you baby?” she continued on her teasing. you nodded and she cooed. “you poor thing…” her thumb pulled from the pout on your face, pressing against your bottom lip.

your heart seemed to skip a beat, her touch sending shivers down your spine.

“my poor pretty little thing.” you blushed. “aren’t you sweetheart?” your stomach jumped, her voice low and silky. it was making you feel silly.

“don’t do that…” you shyly muttered and she smirked.

“do what?”

“talk to me like that. it’s making my stomach feel all funny.” you sighed, feeling your face and neck burning up.

“your stomach?” you hummed. “is it a bad funny or a good funny?” she stepped just the littlest bit closer. and that feeling went south from your stomach, down and down and down and… you gasped a little bit when her free hand took a hold on your hip. she wasn’t even touching you and yet you felt like melting under her fingertips.

“good.” ellie’s fingers squeezed your hip. she hummed, low, and you almost trembled.

“does it feel good too if i do this?” she inquired as she leant closer, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. you nodded. “and this?” another one to your jaw. her face didn’t pull away, her lips trailing lower when you nodded once again. you let out a little whine when she kissed over your pulse, your head tilting to give her more room. it felt too good. m

“feels good els…” you muttered and she almost groaned. fuck. your voice was airy, and so needy…

“you know… there are places where it feels even better.” she said, and your eyes shined with curiosity.

“yeah?” you breathily inquired and she hummed.

“want me to show you?” you nodded, and she smiled before leading you to your bed, where you two sat. “baby, have someone ever given you a kiss?” you frowned, but before you could talk she was getting the doubt out of your head. “on your lips honey.”

you blushed. so much you swore you’d actually burst in flames. you looked into her eyes and then away as you shook your head. ellie’s chest felt lighter. no one had ever kissed you before. fuck.

“want me to give you one?” your eyes went back at hers, and then fell to her lips. they were so pretty it hurt. and you knew they were soft. you’d seen people kiss before. obviously. but you had always been too shy to even think about receiving one. and now ellie was offering to kiss you. for the first time in your life. and your heart was going crazy. breathing was getting harder. you nodded again. “nuh-uh, speak up pretty girl.” you were burning up.

“i want it.” you begged, and her cunt throbbed. shiiiiit. she had thought about this before. you begging for her to fuck you, to let you cum all over her fingers. even dreamed about it. but it would never compare to the actual you.

“good girl.” she said, and your thighs shook. there was wet sticky slick pooling in between your legs and making a mess of your thighs. and the throbbing of your needy pussy was making you ache. it hurt. even more when she called you that. you whimpered when you finally felt her lips against yours. ellie groaned when she heard you, pulling you closer. at first she didn’t move her lips, after a couple of seconds slowly starting to guide you into the kiss. your hands fisted her shirt, and your eyes squeezed closed. it was a strange feeling. but it felt good. too good. “open your mouth for me, baby.” you followed her orders, a little and muffled moan leaving your lips when her tongue pushed inside. one of her hands cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss. you were going for more when she pulled away. fuck. ellie was dying. she was finally kissing you. and you felt amazing. “shhh.” she stopped you, and your hazy eyes met hers.

“ellie… please.” you tugged her close.

“you want more, pretty girl?” she inquired, and you nodded, once shaking parting your lips for her. this time the kiss was deeper, if it could get any more than before, wet strokes of her tongue filling your mouth. you were being laid down on her bed, hair all over her pillows and thighs open for her.

you were letting out the most beautiful sounds, and she was getting way too horny.

“fuck. you don’t know what you do to me.” she groaned, eyes taking you in, you and your swollen glossy lips and hazy reddened teary eyes. you were flushed red, and your breath was hot.

“feels good.” you muttered, shaking under her touch, her hands now touching your hips from under your shirt.

“yeah?” you hummed. “well… there’s another place were kisses feel even better.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” she smiled, one of her hands traveling downwards. passing your belly button and down to your shorts. “right here.” you gasped when you felt her hand softly cupping your cunt over your peeking pretty cotton panties, making your eyes squeeze shit when you grinned down on her hand, seeking relief. you were soaked. “fuck baby…”

you hiccuped. “it hurts.” you pouted. you were throbbing.

“i know baby, i know…” she cooed, and you nodded. “want me to make the pain go away? want me to kiss it better for you, hm?” your cheeks flushed red. ellie wanted to kiss you there. you nodded, quickly, shyly, and she couldn’t help but groan when you whispered a little ‘yes please ellie.’ she was sucking marks down your neck as her hands pulled from your pj and underwear, making you gasp as the cold air of the room hit your drooling pussy. “fuck, angel. you’re so wet…” she said as she took a glance of the string of slick that connected your cunt to your underwear. soon enough, her thumbs were parting your lips to take a better look at you, and you were covering your face, ‘cause ellie was looking at you as if you were a fucking meal and she was starving. your back arched when you felt it. the long and torturously slow drag of her tongue thought your folds, lapping at your arousal.

“ellie!” you screamed, a moan ripping your throat. she left a little kiss to your clit before sucking it, making you whimper and gasp for air, your hands flying up to her hair and making her grunt against your cunt. she pulled you closer to her face, pulling your thighs over her shoulders and laying one of her hands down on your lower stomach to keep you pressed against the bed and still for her to devour. she had been dreaming about this for months. and knowing that no one has ever had you like this. never kissed you, or touched you, or made you moan expect her had her soaking her boxers and eating you out with need.

you couldn’t stop moaning, and whining, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gasped. ellie was telling the truth, it felt so much better than kissing. your thighs were shaking and your pussy was leaking on her tongue. it was the first time you’d ever felt this euphoria… this kind of pleasure…

and then you felt it. her tongue pushing inside of you, stretching you out. it was a new feeling. you had never felt anything like it. you’d never touched yourself. always too shy to even try, to oblivious to know the reason why your pussy would throb around the emerald eyed. and now ellie was helping you get rid of that aching feeling that tortured you every night, and you were falling apart.

“that’s it… pussy so sweet and wet…” she said, one of her fingers teasing the rim of your hole, pushing in just the slightest. you let out a scream when her middle finger pushed inside, your vision filling of colors and spots when she hit a spot deep inside as she curled it, making you sob and moan, tugging from her hair. “you sound so good. shit, angel. can’t wait to have you falling apart, creaming all over my fingers.” you didn’t know what she meant by that, but her finger was fucking into you, and you couldn’t even think.

she sucked on your puffy clit, slowly fucking in and out of you and relishing in the wet sounds that your pussy was making for her, adding another finger when she had stretched you out enough. they filled you to the brim, and so good you were choking. “ellie, ellie, ellie…” you moaned over and over again as she started to quickly curl her fingers against your g spot, making the knot growing on your stomach tighten. “ellie, i’m…, i’m…”

“you’re gonna cum, sweet girl? gonna cum all over my face?” you nodded, feeling that warmth bubbling up in your stomach, about to snap. “go ahead baby, let go for me.” your back arched as you gushed all over her fingers and lips, and she fucked you through it, humming at the taste, lapping at you like a starved women. she cleaned you up, not leaving a single drop of your come behind, helping you ride it out until you were whimpering due to overstimulation. she lapped at your sweet and sticky cum, licking clean your pushy and her fingers as she popped them inside her mouth, moaning. her chin and lips were shining, and she had this hazy look in her eyes that made your heart jump.

you opened your mouth for her when she kissed you, whimpering at the taste of your own arousal.

now that you had felt ellie’s tongue and fingers on you for the first time, you understood what those girls in your class meant by how good her fingers could make them feel…

her mouth was good too. too good. and you couldn’t stop starting at it, and her lips… and her hands. god. now you too wanted to know if they’d feel good around your…

“you’re staring pretty girl.” she smirked, and you looked away with your cheeks burning up. she chuckled, cupping your cheek to make you look at her. “nuh-uh. don’t hide from me. what is it, hm?” you looked into her emerald eyes, her thumb on your bottom lip. you shook your head, burning up. “you’re not gonna tell me?” you shook your head once again. “that’s mean angel, i want to know what’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.” you saw her lean in. “you’re gonna make me have to get it out of you?” you shivered when you felt her breath hit your jaw, and then your neck, lips soft against your skin.

you sighed, your hands gripping her shoulders as she started to tug from your shirt, your nipples hard due to your arousal as she pushed it over your head, leaving you completely exposed to her hungry eyes.

“ellie…” you whimpered when her mouth latched to your breast, sucking the bud into her mouth and leaving marks on them. and she tugged you closer, making you fall on one of her legs, the denim of her trousers meeting your cunt.

her hands landed on your ass, grinding you down on her leg and making you moan. you felt embarrassed to speak up. completely caught in the feeling of her touch.

“come on baby. speak up.” she smirked, seeing you desperately grinding down on her thigh.

“want you ellie… want you.” you whimpered, and she hummed, sucking hickeys on your neck.

“you want me pretty girl? want me to stretch your little pussy on my cock? bet you’d look so cute riding my strap for me, cumming over and over again.“ you let out a needy moan. nodding.

“yes please, want it ellie, want it…” you begged.

“lay down and open your legs for me, baby.” she said, giving you a deep kiss before leaving you in the bed to go get her black strap-on. you were flushing red, and fidgety. and your eyes widened when she got back. ‘cause that was too big. her fingers had made you feel so full already… you couldn’t imagine how that would make you feel.

you squirmed when she was back in between your legs after having discarded her jeans and own shirt, leaving her in her boxers and sports bra. you were flushing and trying to not look at her, ‘cause she looked so hot it was impossible to take. she had abs, and such a pretty waist… her thighs were strong and big, and you couldn’t help but wish to be on top of her once again riding them, this time without her jeans on the way.

“look at me angel, let me see you.” she muttered, and your eyes were back on hers. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” your cheeks were red, and your thighs were trembling under her hands. a moan left your lips when she leaned down to kiss you. her tongue pushing into your mouth and you melted, feeling her body slot in between your legs and the plastic of her strap hit your naked soaking pussy. your hips pushed against it, and she thrusted against you, making the tip bump against your clit. your back arched, and your nails dug on her shoulders.

“please, ellie… please…” you cried out. needing more.

“what is it baby? what do you want?” you were throbbing, crying at her teasing, feeling the tip sliding in between your folds and hitching at your needy hole. “speak up. want you to tell me what you need.”

“need it inside…” you begged, your voice desperate and broken, completely eaten alive by your embarrassment.

“atta girl. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the breath hit punched out of your lungs when she pushed in, your slick making it easy to slide in the tip. she went slow. “good girls get what they want.” you whimpered, feeling your pussy stretch to take her inside. it hurt. but it hurt so good you couldn’t help but buck your hips up for more. “aw, want more darling? want more of my dick? so greedy…” she smirked, seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head when she pushed all of it inside in one go, hitting your cervix. your back arched, and her mouth was sucking bruises on your neck and chest, making you see stars. “that’s it. atta girl. taking me so good…” she groaned, the strap brushing her own clit over her panties. “good girl baby, being so good for me…” tears were spilling from your eyes from the pleasure. her praise making you tighten around the strap and sucking it right back in harder when she tried and pull out to thrust inside. “so fucking tight, shit…” she cursed, and you whimpered, feeling the tip brush that spot that had you babbling out.

her hips slowly started to pick up pace, until she was properly fucking you, wet squelches coming from your cunt, which was impossibly wet. the strap slid easily i between your walls, and rubbed ellie just were she ached the most. you two were a mess of kisses, moans and hands everywhere. your hips fucked against hers, trying to beg for more.

“ellie, ellie please…”

she groaned at your need. “you’re driving me insane.” her hips snapped harder against yours, her cock plunging inside of you deeper and harsher, making it impossible to not scream. and she shut you up the only way she knew how.

your sight went white when you felt it. the hot grip of her hand around your throat. and ellie couldn’t help but groan when you were gushing on her strap, letting out little broken moans that got cut off with every harsh thrust.

“fuck. this is what you wanted, baby? wanted my hand on your neck, hm? my poor little thing just wanted to be choked.” you moaned, your nails digging on her back as she started to piston inside of you, making your orgasm grow and grow…

“ellie! ellie stop, something’s gonna come out, something’s gonna…!” you screamed as the pressure on your lower stomach grew and warmth liquid spread all over your thighs, soaking the strap and the sheets under you. your body was being filled in pleasure. you were falling and falling and falling. you were choking on it. there was no end.

ellie grunted and fucked you through it, reaching her own orgasm when she saw you squirt all over her cock. her cum had completely soaked her boxers by the time she had stopped rutting into you, the two of you panting for air.

and even with your hair made a complete mess, your eyes red with tears and your lips swollen by your kisses… you looked like an angel.

-

a/n; 🫨😵‍💫

ellie williams masterlist! <3

xxx

#ellie williams x f! reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #tlou fluff #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou imagine #tlou fic

[hyunsvngs]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 - vampire!changbin x human!reader

wc: 3.2k

cw: vampire!changbin, human!reader, they r in love ur honour, 18+ smut MINORS DNI!!

synopsis: changbin may be a vampire with supernatural strength, but there's nothing he loves more than to let you take control.

a/n: based off of this post and this ask :3 ENJOY.... please heed the smut warnings tho!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: blowjobs, blood kink, petnames, mommy kink, dom!reader, sub!bin, maybe slight strength kink?, MUZZLE KINK!, dirty talk, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you can’t believe you’ve got a man this delicious. a man so pliant and malleable too despite his otherworldly, supernatural status. changbin would never use his vampiric strength on you, no - he’d much rather lay down on the bed and let you do what you want to him. 

you’d begged him to turn you when you fell in love. to be able to use your strength on him, you said, trying to convince him. he’d only retorted with a quick “i let you do what you want anyway, sugar?” and well… he wasn’t wrong.

he invited you into his home quicker than any man ever had. he sweetened you up, took you on traditional dates where he turned up at your door with a bouquet of blood red roses, and even sweet talked your mother enough that she approved of him and let you stay at his house. she didn’t know he was over a hundred years old with two pointed teeth, obviously, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

the seo estate is magnificent. the gardens are surrounded by an impenetrable stone wall, looking to be as fresh as the day it was built, and changbin has multiple bedrooms to himself. you’d gotten a bit upset - “binnie, doesn’t it get lonely here?” you said, bottom lip quivering, but he’d only slung one muscled arm around you. “i have you now, gorgeous.”

that was another thing about your man - he’s reassuring, and you always feel safe around him. you know that if you prodded at him a little more and begged him hard enough that he would truly change you and turn you into one of his own, if not purely because he cannot see spending his life with anyone else. 

he lays beneath you now, and you’re lost in your own thought with how much love you can have for someone who would be known as a creature of the night. his tummy quivers with an exhale, and you realise your fingernails have been digging into his pecs through the black silk shirt he’s wearing. he shifts beneath you, slacks tight with his erection, and you grin at his reaction.

“you like the pain, binnie?” you muse, digging your fingernails in just a bit harder. changbin whimpers, eyes fluttering shut, and you see his fangs poke out and dig into his plush doll-like bottom lip. not hard enough to draw blood, no, but just enough to the point you know he’s enjoying it. you grind your hips down and his hands fist in the black sheets on his bed. 

the candlelight flickers around you as you adjust yourself, your nightgown spilling off one shoulder and exposing your shoulder to him. when you grind down again, his eyes flutter open, pupils dilated. “i want you to tell me what you want, changbin.”

his eyes flicker to your shoulder, and you giggle when they slowly crawl up to your neck. changbin hums, fingers twitching as if they want to grab you, but he won’t. he’s a good boy. 

“i want-“ he huffs, one of his shorter, human teeth biting at his lip. “i want you. i want to- i want you to ride me, sugar, and will you let me- will you let me drink from you again? god, your blood is the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”

“mm, maybe,” you respond, but you know you’ll let him. you just need him to beg a little bit more, sweeten you up a bit. “i’ll ride you, binnie. will you let me have your cock in my mouth first?”

“god, really?” changbin groans, eyes flickering in excitement, and you nod. your hand runs down his tummy, past the shirt and to the zipper of his slacks. it bulges out with how hard he is, and you use your fingernail to push it down, the slow noises of the unzipping filling the room.

you’re sure changbin’s going to scream if you don’t hurry up, so you’re quick to lift your hips up and pull his trousers and boxers down muscled thighs together. his cock is hard, unbearably so, slapping against his stomach and leaking against the fabric of his expensive shirt. the head leaks beneath his foreskin steadily. you want it in your mouth, but you have to make him work for it first - you wrap your hand around the base, lifting his cock off of his tummy, and then you’re stripping his cock at a rapid pace. 

“oh! oh, ah- ah,” he’s wincing, and you know it’s dry, but you can’t help but hurt your boy sometimes. tears bloom in his eyes and you can see that it truly must take his superhuman strength to stop his hips from fucking up into your fist, his hands almost tearing his sheets clean off of the bed. “gorgeous, sugar, your mouth- your mouth, please! please, fuck, i-“

changbin cuts himself off with a sharp keen when you flick your fingernail over his nipple, through his shirt. “what do you call me, binnie?”

he must be stupid with it already because he blinks at you, a tear falling down one soft cheek. he stammers a few noises out, your hand still ravaging his cock, and then it hits him. “mommy! ah, mama, mama! mommy, please, please, give binnie your mouth.”

“there you go, good boy,” you coo, hand moving from his chest to his hair. you pet just above his ear, and he leans into your touch, humming happily. you don’t comment when he turns his mouth to your palm, nipping just slightly with his teeth, but you do reward him with a soft smack to his face. “stay still. no biting, bunny.”

he whimpers when you finally begin your descent down his body. you kiss him through his shirt, and then you finally push the material up to his waist to see him in his entirety. you’ve still got a tight grip on him, and he stands prominent in your fist, his leaky tip just barely peeking out. your tongue darts to dip into his piss slit, and he really does rip the sheets a little this time, along with a strangled noise coming from his lungs.

it’s easy to deepthroat changbin’s cock. his girth is so delicious that it stretches your jaw a little, but you’re able to get his length to your throat with no issues whatsoever. you do so, engulfing his cock into your mouth, and when you start bobbing your head he’s done for. he wails with it, little murmurs of your name falling from his lips, and when you let your eyes flicker up to him he’s really crying.

“mama! oh, oh, my- binnie’s cock feels so good, mama, it’s- hnnng, oh!” he’s babbling as if he can’t believe it, as if you haven’t done this a million times, and you move your hand to his sac. his balls are heavy, full and swollen with his pending release, and you massage them with your thumb until he positively can’t control the bucking of his hips. you let him fuck your throat once, twice, and then you slap his balls hard. “sorry! sorry, mommy, binnie’s sorry.”

you let his cock slide out of your mouth, and it lands with a wet slap against the thatch of curly, pitch black hair at his base. “i said to stay still, bunny,” and your voice is hoarse, but he nods, chin quivering.

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, and you can see how his cock jumps with his nervousness. “will you- will you still let binnie drink? and ride me, and-?”

“and what, baby? cum inside me?” you tilt your head to the side in question, and you swear you see changbin blush. he nods, bottom lip jutting out, and you can’t help your laugh. “we’ll see. be a good boy for me, okay?”

he wasn’t expecting you to move up his body again, but he’s pleasantly surprised when you pull your nightgown up. the white satin remains on your body, just barely held up by the curve of your hips, and you hold his cock upright. you’re soaking wet between your legs, and changbin moans out when you run his length through the folds of your pussy, just barely catching on the swollen bud of your clit.

“binnie,” you say, breathless. “binnie, tell me how much you want it.”

he’s instant with his response. “so bad! so bad, sugar, feel how hard i am? binnie’s that hard just for you, will you let me have it?”

“just for me, mm?” you ask, and he nods. you lift up just a tad, holding the hem of your nightgown up, and then you’re sinking down onto his cock in one go. his girth stretches your hole beyond belief, even with the added thickness. when he bottoms out, your toes curl, his cockhead resting in that one gummy place inside you that he’s taught you to love. “ah, there we go. that’s good, yeah?”

“s-so good, mama,” his voice is choked, and he lets his eyes flutter shut again. “so good. tight pussy, ‘s so good.”

“it’s all yours, baby,” you moan, and he nods frantically. you’re quick to start moving your hips, too horny to keep the facade going, and changbin’s hands move to grab the pillow either side of his head. your ass slaps against the tops of his thighs, wet noises ringing throughout the entirety of the stone-built room - and probably further out in the estate, but you can’t fathom the concept of changbin’s groundskeepers hearing anything. at a particularly well-angled bounce of your hips, his cockhead rams deliciously into your g-spot, and you know you’ve cracked it, continuing your grinds in that exact position. 

“is it good?” changbin asks, breathless, and he finally opens his eyes. his eyes land on your tits, bouncing in your nightgown, and he shuts them again as if he’s been branded with a silver cross. “sugar. i can’t even look at you, i’ll bust.”

you giggle, leaning forward to grip onto him for purchase. your hands land on his pecs again and you whine when your clit grinds against his pubic bone, fast and feverish, and you don’t reprimand him when his hands finally move down to your ass. he’s held back for so long, and you both know that it’s only so long that he can take not being able to touch you.

“ah, that’s so- fuck, binnie,” you moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip. you’re reminded of your previous plans when his fingernails scratch at your ass, his back arched like a cat. “mm, binnie? y’wanna taste mommy?”

in any other situation with any other man that would have completely different connotations, but changbin knows what it means. he shoots up into a seated position, eyes half lidded, and his head darts to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

“c-can i, mommy?” he questions, moaning when your hips grind down on him harder. “can i, please?”

“more, binnie,” you respond, and he knows what you mean. his tongue laves over your neck, and then he places a wet, open-mouthed kiss over the column of your throat. that’s where he’s going to bite you, and he’s tenderizing you like something he’s going to eat. you suppose you are.

“mama,” he whines, long and drawn out. “let me taste you. please, god, i’m thirsty, mama. let me, please?”

you sigh with your pleasure, and you finally halt your hips, stopping the boy underneath you from being jostled too much. his hands knead at your asscheeks while you pretend to deliberate.

“alright, honey,” you coo, voice soft. “you can bite.”

changbin’s fangs protrude from his mouth, and then he’s biting you. it’s slow, the way his teeth begin to bury themselves into your skin, and the moan he lets out is high pitched. changbin’s always messy when you let him do this, and despite the fact he starts to drink your blood instantly upon it hitting his tastebuds, it’s already started to drip down your shoulder. 

you pick the right time to start moving your hips again. he’s sighing and moaning as he drinks, and you begin a slow grind on top of him. changbin’s cock positively throbs inside of you, and you clench down approvingly, making him grip you just a bit tighter. 

he drinks and drinks until you’re lightheaded with it. when he pulls away, you’re a little dizzy, but not enough so that you can’t take in the sight of him. his chin and lips are covered in bright red blood, and it’s dripped down to your white nightgown and stained the fabric a dangerous colour. changbin moans in approval when he sees it, and his mouth goes to your nightgown to try and lick the excess up messily. fortunately for you, he licks over the pebbled peak of your nipple, and he’s fixated on it as soon as he catches it. 

the nightgown becomes drenched with not only your blood, but his spit too. he doesn’t let up, swirling his tongue around your nipple through the fabric, and you’re left to run your fingernails through his hair teasingly. he whines against you when you pull his hair back to your neck, before he’s quiet, lapping at the two pin prick holes in your skin soothingly. something about his venom over the wounds feels euphoric, and you can’t help yourself when you push him back down onto his back to ride him hard.

he looks debauched. his eyes blaze a crimson shade with his feed, and your blood is smeared all over the bottom of his face - streaks adorn his sharp chin and his fangs look like they’ve been dipped in it. he licks over his upper lip with a grin, and you can’t help but to smile back before you’re bouncing.

“fuck yeah! yeah, mama, yeah, ride me,” he murmurs, eyes flickering over your body like he can’t believe you exist. you can’t believe he exists, but you know you must look the picture of his wet dreams in your nightgown. the fabric over your breast is so drenched it’s see through, and your blood still drips a little bit from your neck. in the middle of grinding on his chubby cock, you let your thumb collect some of the red liquid on your thumb, and you press it into his mouth.

changbin whines. his hands move to your waist and he sucks your thumb like he would your strap, moaning around it like it’s the best thing he’s ever had past his plushy lips. you fuck the digit in and out in rhythm with your pace on top of him, and his cock leaks inside you so warm you feel it, flooding your gummy walls and leaving you breathless. 

with a strong grind on his cock, changbin’s fangs nip at your thumb, and you have to pull your thumb away for another little love tap on his cheek. his eyes roll back into his head, and you giggle. an idea hits you, and you know you just have to do it.

your hips halt, and you grab changbin’s curls tight, pulling his head back. “i think we better get your muzzle, bunny.”

“no! no, you let me drink, what- why?! why, why?” he wails, but you know he enjoys it. he just likes kicking up a little fuss when you get mean like this, and you ignore him to reach into the bedside table to grab the offending item. it’s only small, covering the bottom half of his face with black leather and miniature metal bars over his mouth, but changbin cums his fucking brains out every time you equip it over his gorgeous face. he’s still babbling when you loop it over his curls, pulling the strap tight and letting your pussy clench down at the sight of him so submissive, so pliant. 

“mm, that’s it. stay there like that, that’s it,” and you lean back, hands gripping his thighs. you’re feeling a little lenient, so you let changbin push your nightgown up with calloused palms and watch the space where his cock enters you over and over. he’s going to cum soon, you realise, and you’re going to have to make the most of the time you have right now. changbin snaps his fangs at you as if he’s a puppy about to bite, and you clench down on him with a sharp keen, pussy gushing down to his pubic hair. 

you reach around yourself with one hand, fingers rubbing messily over your clit, and it makes your pussy tingle deliciously. changbin’s still making strangled noises, legs thrashing behind you, and you can hear him mumbling quietly.

“please, please… let me drink again, sugar? mommy. mama, please, please-”

his hips cant upwards and you jolt. your pin prick wounds on your neck are healed from the after effects of changbin’s vampire venom, but you flick your fingernail over it, causing the wound to start oozing crimson essence again. changbin’s nose scrunches up beneath the muzzle as he inhales, and you wipe your hand over your bloody skin before you’re just barely letting your fingertips slide through the metal bars on his restraints.

“s-smell it, changbinnie,” you coo, chest heaving with a flush as you get closer to your orgasm. your hand speeds up on your clit when he nips softly at your fingers, and when he cants his hips up again he’s flooding you with hot cum. his own chest heaves as he cums, cock throbbing inside of you, and you whine. 

“fuck. fuck, sorry-”

“stay fucking still, bunny,” you groan. “you better not go soft on me. make mama cum, c’mon.”

and he does. he wraps his muscled arms around you, the material of his shirt scratching against your nightgown, and then he’s thrusting into you. it’s awkward, and he’s only half hard, but the show of strength is the only thing you need to push you over the edge. you shake and gush through your orgasm, arms moving to wrap around changbin’s neck, and you feel his chest rumble with a groan as he feels you throb around him. 

when you flop off of him, pussy messy and swollen with your sex, he stretches with a loud groan. you huff in response, and he sniffs. the unspoken communication makes him let out that loud, affectionate laugh that you love.

changbin’s out of breath next to you, limbs akimbo, and you giggle at his soft cock resting against his pubic bone. you pull the straps of his muzzle loose and let it drop onto the pillow, and changbin grins at you.

“the muzzle was such a good idea,” he says, elated, and you let him push himself into your space and lay his head on your chest. your nightgown is still covered in blood and his spit, but he doesn’t care, making little happy noises against you. “i love you, yeobo.”

you can’t help but smile, sated. “i love you too, changbinnie.”

#juno's fics ♡ #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #seo changbin fanfiction #seo changbin x reader #changbin fic #changbin x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #vampire!skz #skz imagines

[hopeastrz]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐕𝐈🌼✨

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 + 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞??! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏,𝟓𝐤 𝐀𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞!.

The childlike wonder 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒 posses is so precious, makes me feel like it’s their first life on earth, they are so so sweet when comfortable, because as much as they can’t hold their negative emotions at bay, they do the same to positive ones, which makes them share everything with you, especially little things that makes them happy and excited too.. i love them so much.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 — 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 harmonious aspects tend to give you a very magnetic and enchanting tone, you may have a low husky voice or you just have a very slight but attractive Hoarseness.

No because why does 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝟏𝟏° have the most unhinged/weird af thoughts out there.. Me and Felix of stray kids have the exact same mercury placement with the same degree 𝟏𝟏° 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟏𝟎𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄, and when he said “chicken has meat in it,” + “i believe there are ghosts but i don’t want to believe there are ghosts.” I felt him the most, these two quotes gives you enough context i guess.

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 attract jealousy and obsession from their friends it’s kinda concerning so take care!.

𝟐𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 LOWER🗣️ YOUR 🗣️ DAMN🗣️ VOICE🗣️.. if i discovered that some of you have natural high tech speakers attached to your throats i wouldn’t even be surprised.

𝟐𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 may become financially stable in an early stage of their lives, I’m talking like in late teenage years, they pay for their college tuitions or something, they just have to have this responsibility on their shoulders somehow, same thing for 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒, go blonde, it suits you so freaking much, i don’t make the rules.

𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐔𝐌 𝐌𝐄𝐍 and the chokehold they have on me, i love them so much dude.

If a 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 — 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 breaks up with someone just know that they really reached their limit, because they tend to turn blind eye on lots of things in a relationship, since they cherish harmony and love, they are one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet.

𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 dance, dance it’ll do wonders to your and your body.

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒 please im begging you, stop being so hard on yourselves, you are enough trust me.

𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈, 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 have the most diverse music taste in the world, it’ll literally blow your mind!, they listen to everything, any genre, rock, punk, home, R&B anything you have in mind and in different languages too.

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐔𝐌 are very artistic it’s fascinating, really quite admirable, and if accompanied with 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 then you’ll have the most amazing multitasking creative individual ever, the type to be so good at everything, drawing, singing, dancing, writing literally whatever art related.. they have a wide set of hobbies and won’t fail to impress you.

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 kindly give me your skin care routine right now. I’m not even joking the have the most flawless skin ever, so soft and chubby just beautiful!.

I’ll always recommend checking your 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 until my last breath because it will never fail you, to me it is the most important 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 out there especially if you just can’t resonate with your natal chart ascendant..

.. furthermore I’m a Sagittarius rising in my natal chart with Pluto and bla bla, but for years i always thought that it doesn’t suit me, even though i have my exact right birth time, later on when i checked my ascendant persona chart IT MADE SO MUCH SENSE..

.. people used to say that i have a soft, delicate and dreamy nature to my face, like i seem lost, also they said that i look rich lmao, basically everything that had nothing to do with my natal chart rising, and when i checked 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐂 i had pisces ascendant conjunct Uranus 7° and Moon 16°.. it was mind blowing istg.

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 – 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎/𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 fuck your self worth so bad, no because they are the type to question people love for them 24/7 because they just can’t believe it. In Neptune case it puts a veil on your face making you blind, but for Pluto it just makes you feel like you are the worst person out there and you don’t deserve to be loved… these people need a hug so bad rn.

You know who has this placement? 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎, The Versace prince Hwang Hyunjin of stray kids!, and if you remember he once said in maniac concert “i still don’t know why do you like me.. do i deserve this kind of love?.”….. yeah, i can’t do this today *proceeds to scream in her pillow.”

Now lastly on 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒—𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 you have the best eyebrows out there, just quite neat and attractive, especially if 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 it’ll enhance this placement.

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astrology degrees #astrology notes #astrology houses #astro placements #astrology planets #astro observations #astrology asteroids #stray kids #skz felix #felix birth chart #Hyunjin #hyunjin birth chart #stray kids astrology

[mayearies]

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

❛ KISSIN YOU CRAZY ❜

miles morales

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

genre: suggestive | warnings: miles ooc, kissing, spanish translations: desea averiguarlo? / you want to find out? authors input: i wanted to make more borderline cocky miles i miss it also i cant fucking find graphics for stories anymore im actually gonna start shitting myself also ik i cant write kissing scenes dont rn

summary: turns out miles is a really good kisser

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

miles liked anything to do with your body, believe it or not. he would get the most out of cuddling with you, kissing you, or just simply holding your hand. but he had a tendency to ask one thing any time he would sit down:

“can you come sit on my lap?”

sometimes he wouldnt even ask. he would just pull you on top of him or give you a pleading stare. he honestly wouldnt pay much attention to you. he would just want you close to him. if you wanted to talk to him, he would be down for that always. hell, he would drop what he’s doing and turn his attention to you any day of the week.

wanna guess how you got here? yeah, he just led you to his desk and placed you on top of him so he could draw. take it as you’re a stuffed animal he wouldn’t want to misplace.

but stuffed animals have feelings too. he didn’t say a word to you. he just rested his head over your shoulder as his finger danced on your thigh in a rhythm, the one matching his headphones. you didnt like being ignored while in this state. you couldnt even get off him.

you bit your cheek as your face held an expression of annoyance. “miles?”

he didnt answer. but you knew he heard you since the tapping on your thigh slowed down and the sound of markers against the paper increased. he liked teasing you like this. and you knew just the way to break him: neck kisses!

he was an absolute sucker for kisses in general. his forehead and his neck were his favorite places for you to kiss. everytime you would, he would giggle a little bit before breaking, “what? what’s up, darling?”

“you never look at me even after i do this for you!” “mmm? do you want something?”“a kiss would be nice. all you give is cheap forehead kisses.”

miles directed his eyes to yours. soon leaving to look at your lips which were lightly glazed with lipgloss. he held a playful smirk before looking back up at your face. “hm. cheap kisses, huh?”

“i bet you aren’t even that good of a kisser, miles.” “hah. desea averiguarlo, mami?”

oh wow. you didnt expect that. or this. despite your continuous reminders for him to put on chapstick, his lips were really soft and smooth. even smoother with your lipgloss on it.

the thing is, miles has never kissed you like this before. he would give you longing kisses like this anywhere but your lips. you thought he did it because he was nervous. turns out he was, but had just played it off cool. but he pulled all the right strings first try.

something about his hand stroking your thigh lightly, the biting of your lip as your lips danced with one another did something for you. i mean, as it should.

pulling away with a playful smirk, he leaned into your ear. “so? did you find out or do i gotta demonstrate again? you got enough attention for the hour now?”

you playfully rolled your eyes as you slipped from his grasp to go sit on the couch and turn on a movie leaving miles stunned a little. nonetheless, he followed you. snuggling against your chest as he pulled you into his lap once more. “what we watchin’, missy?”

“missing.” “ohhh.. y’know what’s really missing?” “..what?” “your last name changed to ‘morales’.”“stop using those jokes you got from peter. just because he got to keep mj with them doesn’t mean you’ll get to keep me.” “yes ma’am.”

©hiimayee

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales earth 42 #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #miles 1610 #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 #1610 miles x reader #spiderman 1610 #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader

[koemiexists]

Hey! Can I get dom!Lucifer x fem! Reader pretty pls? Like I love him being a sub, but I don't think there's enough smut of him being a dom 🙏🏽

Accidentally Taking Souls

summary: you accidentally sold your soul to lucifer, and he accidentally accepted it. it only happens every one in twelve million five hundred fifty seven thousand souls! which also means, you're the first. tags: PANIC ATTACK, comfort, biting, porn with plot basically, not very good friends, dom!lucifer, drunken confessions, but not DRUNKEN sex, choking (consensual), fingering, breeding kink, surprise at the end word count: 4k a/n: this was already sorta on my to-do list, a lucifer x reader shot, then alastor x reader x lucifer shot, but it also fit your ask so !! apologies for delays :) i'm getting to them (a bit slowly...)

Truthfully, you weren’t religious. Your mother had always been, however. She would drag you to church, and make you pray almost all the time. Once you moved out for college, you never looked back.

When she died, she left nothing to you, but a single slip of paper. ‘Don’t sin.’

You truly didn’t care at that point, you didn’t believe in everything she had spewed, and continued to warn you about, even in death. 

She had always warned you about your friends, telling you that they were demons who had risen from Hell to make you sin. It was truly baffling for her to spout her nonsense, especially in front of your friends themselves.

And yet, those very same friends were on your living room floor, staring at you with various smiles of pure delight.

“You want me to do what?”

“It’s not a want, (Name)... It’s a dare.”

You groaned; you were tired of this. “Why are you daring me to sell my soul? To the devil?”

One of your friends just smirked. “He’s not real, right? You shouldn’t have a problem.”

Blinking, you just took a deep breath, and shrugged your shoulders. “You’re right.” You said simply, and sat down.

One of the girls had unfurled from her position on the floor, digging into her bag. “Here.” She started, beginning to take out various things. “I can help you!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I don’t just say ‘have my soul devil’?”

“Damn (Name), I didn’t expect you to be that dumb.” She joked, bringing a needle to your hand. “No, it doesn’t go like that. If the deal is accepted, you’ll be in Hell.... maybe. That’s what the occult book told me.” She shrugged, pricking your finger, and dropping blood messily. “I just have to draw some runes...”

After the entire ordeal was over, especially the disastrous game of truth and dare, you retired for the night, concluding that you didn’t want to be up any longer and overthink what just happened.

Your friends had cheerily bid you goodbye, and you had waved them away, telling the group you’ll talk to them in a few days.

The last thing you could remember was the pleasant feeling of your sheets, and the cool squishmallow in your arms.

You awoke slowly, you felt as if you were drifting away... and then you felt someone poke at you. 

Dismissing it, you turned away, until it registered in your head. Someone poked you.

You lived alone.

Jolting up in your bed, you looked around. There was a man towering you, grinning sheepishly. You let out a yell, keeping your plushie close to you as you kicked off the sheets covering you, falling off the bed.

Except that didn’t make sense, because your bed was just a mattress on the floor! It was close to the ground, and yet you dropped a good few inches from the ground.

Fear was coursing through your veins, and you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, followed by a serene calmness- but your adrenaline was still pumping, and your inner voice was screaming at you to get up, run run run run run RUN!

You jolted, trying to maneuver yourself to get up and start running away except when you glanced down you started to scream because of your skin tone-- it was a weird hue, definitely not natural, definitely not yours.

“Hey! Calm down- girl- fuck- bitch, calm down!” You let out a hiccup as your eyes flickered from your hands to the man. He seemed to be fiddling with something, before dropping it and orienting you. 

“Sorry,” He huffed, and you managed to get a good look at him. His skin was milky white, and he had platinum blonde hair that was swooped locks. You looked away again, and he gently put you back on the bed. “Don’t fall off again.”

You sniffled, nodding. “Shit.... I don’t even know how this happened. Usually this is when people sell their souls... but I never...” He paused his pacing and muttering, turning to you.

Your hair was obstructing your face as you stared down at your lap, but when he approached you, you instantly stared at him. “Did you sell your soul... to me?”

“You aren’t the Devil.” You said instantly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. “I-”

The man just laughed. “No, you can call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smirked, his grin wide and toothy as he looked at you with lidded vermillion eyes. “The ruler of Hell.”

You stared, mouth ajar.

And then laughed, boisterous and teetering to purely unsettling.

Lucifer stared at you as you laughed, and laughed... and wait-! No, you were still laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a hand on his hip as you still was chuckling, tears in your eyes.

“Okay, I’m having a crazy lucid dream!” You snorted, and searched for a clock, staring at it intensely.

Lucifer cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

“Weird.” You muttered, staring at the clock even more. Why weren't the hands going haywire? Why was it normal? 

You turned your eyes to your hands, studying it. It was... fine. Nothing was abnormal besides the fact your skin was a different color. You felt yourself panicking again, and you closed your eyes, willing for something different to happen.

Your panic began to increase dramatically as you heaved, tearing up as you looked at the clock again. You tried to take in breaths, but it was hard to even register that your lungs were burning.

Hands were gripping your wrists. You felt sick. Your head was pounding, and you knew you had to be yelling, because your throat ached and was scratchy. You could barely see, but you kept thrashing. 

After a while, you felt all your energy zapped from you, you just slumped, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. Blearily, you watched as a muddled version of Lucifer appeared in front of you, looking you over.

“Ok?” He whispered, and you blinked slowly, tilting your head at him slowly. “Is- Did you settle? Uhm. Are you a bit okay now?”

You shrugged, and he wiped your tears, gently gathering you in his arms. His limber figure made his way to what appeared to be a bathroom, and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge bathtub. On the sides were a bunch of rubber ducks.

Lucifer gave you a mischievous look as he placed you down after stripping you down to your underwear, running the water warm. 

“I made them.” He said, placing only certain ones in the water. “Some of these definitely cannot go in.” He moved a light blue one off to the side. “It produces voltage,” Lucifer explained, getting some bubble bath soap, and pouring it over the running water. In an instant, bubbles began to form around you.

You gave him a look. Because, really? Voltage duck?

He pouts a little. “I just... I made them.... Why not? It’s entertaining!”

You don’t know how creating ducks can be entertaining.

Lucifer gave a huge dramatic sigh, pushing his hair back, and bemoaned your inability to see how delightful his ducks were.

“You’re weird,” You uttered, your voice extremely scratchy. Lucifer winced, and quickly whirled his hand, a water bottle appearing. 

“Here,” He said, motioning the water. “It’s cold.” It was cold. “Icy too.” Okay... “Maybe even...” You looked at him, as the water in your mouth began to get colder. “Pure ice.” Your mouth was beginning to get cold, really quickly. “Haha- sorry, bad prank?” Would it even be classified as a prank? More of an inconvenience, especially with how parched you were.

You stared at him silently, drinking more of the cold water that he provided. “So... I’m dead?” You whispered, glancing down at the bubbly surface. 

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect to go to Hell so soon.” You muttered, looking around inconspicuously. It was very grand, fit for a king indeed.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, confused at your statement. “You knew you were going to Hell?”

You smiled gently. “Never listened to my mom. Super religious. Wasn’t my style.”

He hummed in response, and helped you finish cleaning up. You felt tired afterwards, and just wanted to sleep now that everything was done. Lucifer led you to a guest bedroom, sprucing up the surroundings a little. He gently tucked you in, and you gave a small noise of appreciation. 

“I’ll show you around, later.”

You yawned, nodding.

“My daughter...” He had a daughter? “She has a hotel.”

“Mmm.”

Lucifer smiled at your sleepy sounds. “Supposed to redeem sinners.” 

You turned over, groaning. “Go away... I don’t care...” You slurred, sleep clouding your head like a fog. “Ngh... wait.” You blinked rapidly, turning back to Lucifer. “What?”

He smirked. “Redemption of sinners?” He repeated, giving you a teasing look.

“Is it possible?!”

Lucifer inhaled. “I... don’t know. Maybe? I just like to support my daughter’s dreams.” He pauses. “Even if it’s a bit far-fetched, she believes in it.” Another huge pregnant pause. “If it does work, you won’t become a human, you’ll just be an angel.”

You turned away again. “Ugh.” 

He snorted, and fixed your blankets. “Goodnight,” He crooned, placing a small rubber duck on your dresser. “You have to wake up really early tomorrow!”

He cackled when you just groaned.

After a few days of living like this, Lucifer deemed you ready to meet his daughter. When you inquired why before you couldn’t he just muttered about some sinner that would rip you to shreds. You didn’t really understand, but he seemed to hate that one sinner with a passion, so your questioning didn’t continue past that.

He led you to a huge building that had the words Hazbin Hotel in big letters at the top. You glanced at the infrastructure, cringing at some of the design choices. It was surely unique, although you knew it definitely needed some sprucing up.

“It’s pretty,” Was all that came out of your mouth. Lucifer gave you a half-hearted noise of acknowledgement, ringing the bell. You heard light footsteps, and as soon as the door began to open, Lucifer burst past it.

“CHARLIE!”

“Hi dad...”

You shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to see you. “Oh!” There they go. “Sorry, sorry! Uh- how are you? What’s your name?” Charlie began to babble, leading you inside with gentle hands. “I’m Charlie!”

Lucifer was right by your side again, causing you to stumble. “(Name),” You offered weakly, gaining your balance again as Lucifer began to chuckle lowly next to you. “I...”

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said smoothly, smirking. “I have a favor to ask of you, Char-Char.”

Her attention was instantly on her father, head cocked to the side barely, questioning.

“She... accidentally sold her soul to me.” He started off slowly, and Charlie gave him a weird look. 

“So? She shouldn’t be here unless you accept... Dad!” She yelled out at the end, and Lucifer winced. “How did you accidentally accept a soul??”

He groaned. “By accident, of course! Listen Charlie-”

“That poor girl-”

You looked back and forth tiredly, before clearing your throat. “What’s done is done,” You started, glaring at Lucifer lightly. “Besides, Luci has been helping me get accustomed to my new world. But we were hoping you knew how to redeem sinners so I can be redeemed.”

Charlie began to shift nervously. “Well- we don’t have a set method.”

You stared at her.

“We don’t have one sinner who’s been redeemed... yet.”

“Yet.” You parroted, giving her a blank look. 

She bit her lip lightly. “Yes, yet. I’m sorry (Name), we are only just starting and I know being in Hell was a mistake.”

You felt numb, and can only barely register how Lucifer had lifted you up, pulling you away and whispering apologies against you. “Sorry,” He murmured, and you let out a soft sigh due to his hand on your scalp. “I’m so sorry, I thought she would have found a way already...”

“No need to apologize,” You huffed, blinking away unshed tears as he calmed you down. You still felt extremely upset, but it wasn’t truly anyone's fault.

Lucifer gave you an apologetic look still, before putting you down. You looked around, blinking. “Where are we?”

“Guest room,” Lucifer replied, fixing the sheets as you gained your bearings. The couch was ratty, with small tears on the cushions; the back of it was dingy, yet when you moved, it stayed steady despite the obvious damages.

You got up, and he motioned to the bed, smiling at you gently. “Want to sleep? It’s getting a bit late already.”

Confused, you gave him an inquiring look. He smiled sheepishly, motioning to the clock. “It’s the evening, I think your perception is a bit skewed...”

Right, your outburst. “Sorry,” You said, feeling guilty.

Lucifer just waved you off. “Do you want to sleep?” He asked, and you shook your head, looking at the door.

“Is there a place to get a drink?” You just wanted to get drunk, if you were being honest.

He hummed. “There’s a bartender, apparently.” He replied, taking your hand into his. “Steady,” He spoke lowly, as you stumbled a bit, letting him lead you down the hall. 

You both made it to the bar, where you practically threw yourself at the stool, asking the bartender, apparently named Husk, to make you a strong drink.

He merely grunted in acknowledgment, turning away to start mixing it. Lucifer grinned toothily at you, before he turned around to go be with his daughter.

One drink turned into two, then into three, and before you knew it you were seven drinks in, and you were giggling with Angel, a patron at the hotel. 

“You’re really,” You paused, hiccuping due to how fast you drank your last shot. “Really interesting, Angel.” Your words were slurred, and almost hard to decipher. Angel, however, understood you completely considering he was also tremendously drunk. 

“Thank you, sweet thing.” He smirked, his gold tooth glittering in the light as he moved closer to you. He smelled like artificial fruits, and you wrinkled your nose in distaste, bile swirling right beneath your esophagus. “So, Short king is with ya?”

You nod, still fighting the urge to retch at the stench of his perfume. “Uhn, yeah, he is. I, uhm... made a deal with him, apparently,” You slurred, pausing almost every word you said. “Sorry, your perfume smells gross.”

Angel rolled his eyes, throwing two of his hands up. “Ugh! Val made me wear it for today’s shoot-” 

“Why?” You nearly whined, scooting backwards as Angel began to spray a different perfume. 

He sighed. “I work sex, babe.” When you cocked your head to the side, he began to rephrase his drunken words. “I’m a porn star.”

You flushed at that, and shrugged lightly. “Each to their own I guess...”

Humming, Angel brought another drink to his mouth, downing it in one go. “On the topic of sex,” He slurred, smirking as Lucifer slowly approached you two. “Who would you have sex with here? Based on appearance.” He hiccuped.

“Lucifer is super hot,” You giggled, biting your lip lightly as you stood up, swaying at your spot. “I wouldn’t mind having him fuck me, I need a good pound.” You dissolved into light giggles, finding the idea of fucking the ruler of Hell amusing, getting him worked up by a lowly sinner...

You yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “Don’t squirm,” Lucifer said lightly, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m taking you to bed. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,”

A laugh came from in front of you, and you glared at Angel as he smiled even wider, smug. “Bye, (Name). Remember to not gag-!”

His voice was cut off as light swarmed your vision. You shut your eyes tight, feeling your stomach roll in pain as your surroundings became the guest room. “Hngh,” You whined, collapsing onto the bed. “Mm, Luci...”

Lucifer stroked your head as you chugged the water he gave, before he ushered you to bed to sleep the liquor off.

Your eyes were shut the instant he had dropped your head back on the pillow.

When you awoke, your head instantly began to pound, before tapering off to a light throbbing. You blinked, and turned to look to the side where the warmth was radiating. “Hi,” Lucifer smiled at you, his expression sleepy as his wings stretched from his back. “You’re awake.”

“And hungover,” You groaned, rubbing at your temples.

You screeched when your wrists were pinned above your head, and Lucifer was on top of you, straddling your hips. In this position, with you staring up at him, he truly did look angelic. His hair was messy, strewed in different directions. The glow from the light on a dresser behind him illuminated certain visible parts of him to you, and it just gave him such an ethereal glow.

You sucked a breath in as he shifted, his wings spreading out from his back, and you could almost imagine that golden halo on top of his head right now.

“Do you want this?” He uttered, voice deep with sleep and slightly gravelly. Arousal bloomed in your abdomen as you nodded quickly. “Words, ducky.” 

“Yes.” You nearly whined, and he grinned, teeth all showing.

He practically pounced after that, ripping your bottoms off, and instantly his claws were at your underwear, shredding it with a flick of his wrist. Lucifer let out a growling noise as he leaned into you, thrusting a single finger into your awaiting cunt.

Slick was dripping down his hand after a few thrusts, messy and almost disgusting as wet slapping sounds quickly reverberated throughout the bedroom. 

“Dripping, all for me?” He teased, beginning to lightly rub your clit with his thumb as he nipped at your neck and chest. “I just need to put my claim on you.”

You moaned, shaking at his ministrations. “Bite me,” You whispered softly before you broke on a high pitch whimper. 

His teeth gleamed as he smirked at you, before surging forward to bite you right between your shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth digging deep into your skin before he pulled away.

You let out a sob at the pain, then a moan as he sped up with his fingers. “Sorry,” He said, guilt filling his voice slightly as he looked at you with lidded eyes. You weakly watch as he gently moves his other hand over the bleeding wound as the pain eased into slight numbing.

“I liked it,” You murmured, kissing him again, and biting his lip as you rolled your hips into his hand. 

He let out an indistinguishable noise, before he thrusted his hand deep in you, watching as you came all over his hand, liquid shooting all over his arm.

“Good?” He asked, kissing you softly, before pulling away, licking at his fingers that were soaked in your release.

You nod, smiling as he beamed lightly at you. Moving slightly, you pulled your legs up, leaving your cunt more exposed for him. “Take me, Luci.” You had whined, cunt fluttering at the thought of his cock in you.

Lucifer flushed, his cheeks becoming a darker ruddy color, as he took off his pants. His thick cock slapped his thigh, and both of you giggled at the noise. “Sorry,” He laughed lightly, but you just shook your head smiling.

“It’s okay to be a bit silly, Luci.” You had said quietly, breath hitching as he entered you.

Lucifer sank deep into your cunt, inhaling sharply as you squeezed him. You had yet to indicate you wanted him to move, inhaling and exhaling lightly as you eased up around him.

You nodded, but he still hadn’t moved. His face was extremely red as he stayed still, his breath labored. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving slightly as your cunt squeezed then relaxed around him. “Luci, are you o-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled almost fully out, his flushed tip just barely stretching your cunt. You looked up at him as he shoved his cock inside again, slamming into you. “Mm- Lucifer-” You tried to speak, but he just kissed you, your tongues entwining as small noises of pleasure emitted from you.

He pulled away, panting as his hair became more messed up from his movements. “Want me to stop?” He paused, to see what you needed.

You growled lightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips. He let out a small yelp, grasping your hips in a bruising manner. “Okay!” He kissed you, and slammed into you again. “Okay, you want me that badly huh? My pretty baby. All wet and slick for m-”

He paused as he was pulling out when you let out a whimper. “Daddy,” You had said quietly, nearly inaudibly.

“What?”

You flushed this time, looking off to the side as you worried your lip between your teeth. “Sorry, I...”

Lucifer gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and when you snapped your head to look at him, he smirked, gently squeezing, before his grip became lax again. When you nodded, indicating you were okay with it, he grinned. 

“My girl, all wet for her daddy. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? When we fuck, ducky, you look at me. When I kiss you, you think about me. When I impregnate you, you look at me. Understood?”

You wailed in pleasure, cunt gripping his thick cock. “Yes daddy! I understand,” You blabbed, and you took a deep inhale right as Lucifer squeezed your neck.

“Do you even deserve to be fucked by me?” He asked, rubbing your clit lightly. As you began to teeter over the edge, he stopped all movements, looking at you. “I asked you a question.”

You heaved, gripping at his hand. “N-no,” You choked out, and he released his grip, kissing your neck. “Daddy,” You whimpered, watching as Lucifer pulled away to adjust your position. He had your lower half fully bent now, your knees nearly touching the bed as he grasped your waist, shoving his cock back inside you.

Screaming at the new found spot he hit, you began to earnestly moan, loud noises coming from your mouth as every thrust he made hit your sweet spot perfectly. “Ah- ah!” You bit your lip, causing it to bleed. Lucifer leaned in, sucking your lip into his mouth, before he caught your mouth in an open kiss, licking at your tongue.

“Good girl,” He purred, shoving his thick cock deeper and deeper inside you. “I’m going to make you into a mommy, do you want to be a mother? For me?” You felt your orgasm approach as you nodded, whimpering at the idea of your belly becoming swollen with a child.

He kissed you, and you bit his lip as you came, your legs shaking as you inhaled deeply, jerking at the aftershocks as Lucifer continued to thrust, pace off. Jackhammering into you for another moment, he stopped, his cock deep inside you as he groaned, cum coating your walls.

You felt gross, but he merely gently rubbed at the small bulging in your lower abdomen, sighing. “Good?” He inquired, kissing your cheek.

“Good,” You confirmed, beaming tiredly.

A month had passed, and you were chatting idly with Charlie.

“So,” You started, smiling lightly. “I have news.”

She grabbed your hands, eyes bright. “What is it? Oh! Did you find someone to stay at the hotel? Did you find some staff? Is there some news happening in Pentagram City? Wait! Let me guess, did a new restaurant open up-”

You laughed, calming her down as you smiled cheekily. “No, not any of that.” Pausing as Lucifer went up to sit by you. “Me and Luci,” You started, glancing at him. “Are expecting.”

Charlie froze. “Huh? Expecting what? A package?”

Lucifer grinned widely, as his daughter slowly began to understand. “You’re going to be a big sister, Char-Char!”

#marking kink #breeding k1nk #pwp #reader insert #fluff #smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #oneshot #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #pregnant #plot

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 22)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 4,106

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

For the third time tonight you catch yourself bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of the song blaring through the walls instead of reading the words in the art history book that you’re staring at. 

Cursing, you toss your pencil into the crease of the textbook and lie your head in your hands. You’ve read the same page three times over but you haven’t absorbed one ounce of information. It’s something about the art in ancient Rome and the different ways God figures are portrayed. 

Your phone buzzes from the spot next to you and you can’t help but grin. You’d declined an invite to another one of Cassian’s infamous parties because you have a test on Monday and you can’t afford to fail. You barely passed the first one by the skin of your teeth and you’ll be damned if you don’t pass this class with less than a B. Azriel had even pestered you about it for a bit, but ultimately left you to focus on your schoolwork, or, as much as half of your attention on the page you could manage.

A: I can’t believe you’re studying right now. I can’t even focus on my drawing. How are you doing it?

Y: You’ve trained me in the art of studying with loud backgrounds, don’t you remember? You quickly follow that text up with another. Y: I should’ve joined in on the fun instead. I’m going to fail art history, anyway. I could really use a shot right now.

Azriel’s response pings your phone faster than Cassian saying something sexual. A: How about something else that might cheer you up? ;)

A puff of laughter chokes out. Checking the time in the corner of your screen your smile falls and you want to groan. You’ve only been attempting to study for forty five minutes.

Y: As mood improving that might be, I really need to study. This sucks. 

To garner some extra sympathy, you tack on a frowning emoji at the end.

A: It’s not that hard, princess.

It’s a bold move to reply: Y: Your cock? Or art history? But you hit send anyway.

A: Both, but the pair can be remedied.

Y: Come over.

There’s a sudden slamming of a bedroom door through the wall that startles you, then forces you into a fit of giggles, realizing how eager Azriel had been to escape his apartment and see you.

The thought sends butterflies off in your stomach and your heart kicks giddily in response. You’re just as excited as he is, shoving your chair back from your desk and bounding towards the door.

Soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room washes the apartment in a warmth that feels like you’re being cuddled. The rest of the apartment is dark, empty. Feyre had popped her head into your room earlier, asking if you wanted to go to the party next door but at that point in the night you were still determined in your studying, waving her on without you.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you tug it open Azriel is barging inside, all but tackling you on his way inside. His hands find your hips like a magnet and you’re swept up in the heat of his body as it collides with yours as he sweeps you further into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. 

“Hurry,” he whispers, and his long strides are no match for your shorter legs. You feel like you’re tripping, tangled up in him, but he holds you steady, firm, like a rock you’ve been missing from your life.

It’s quite nice.

Azriel reaches behind himself to lock your door before he’s turning back to you and planting a kiss to your forehead. “Before Tarquin sees me.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. He’s snug in his usual garb, a black t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. His jeans sit low on his hips, the waistband of his briefs calling your name. The fact that you know what’s beneath these clothes is as intoxicating as his blissful scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Who’s Tarquin?” 

“Old friend,” Azriel huffs. “He was just arriving at the party. If he saw me he would’ve wanted me to tap the keg with him and I’d much rather be here, tapping you, princess.”

You shove playfully at his chest but Azriel catches your wrists and pulls you back into him for a popper kiss. You fall into it, body relaxing and even pressing yourself further into him. His hands slide around your waist and over the curve of your ass where he grabs a handful, sighing contently against your lips.

He’s been the perfect gentleman since the chat you shared at Rita’s, and has even offered to walk you to and from your classes, though you suspect that has more to do with Lucien than not wanting you walking alone, even though you share most of your classes with Feyre.

“Hi,” you whisper when he pulls away only to rest his forehead against yours. His golden eyes bore into yours and you can see the happiness swimming there.

You can also feel it against your stomach. 

“Hey,” he answers just as softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” you remind him, but your chest flutters a little because you missed him too. You’d allowed Azriel to walk you home after your last class of the day but had drawn the line at the door that he pressed you up against, using that wicked mouth of his to try and convince you to let him inside. After a thorough minute of persuasion, he’d backed off, leaving you with a cheeky wink and both your mind and your cunt screaming at you to call him back. 

“Yeah but dealing with Cassian feels like a lifetime has gone by sometimes,” he jokes, following you eagerly as you lead him through your apartment towards your room. It hits you then that he hasn’t properly been inside of your apartment before, only having seen it when he walked in on accident, but there will be time for a tour later, right now you want him in your room. Preferably on your bed.

“What was he doing this time?” you squeal when he pinches your ass and you glare at him over your shoulder. 

“Sorry, princess, I couldn’t resist,” Azriel grins and you can’t help but smile with him. When the corners of his mouth pull high there’s a crinkle around his glowing golden eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. He looks younger, sweeter with that smile on his face. Azriel is a handsome man. “He was trying to get me to join in on the party. Think he was trying to rally some girls to play flip cup or something.” 

Azriel frowns when he steps into your room, not because he notices that the head of your bed nearly perfectly aligns with where his is pushed up against the wall you share, but because of the loud music humming through said wall. He knows it must be even louder when he’s the one blasting tunes at all hours of the night, but he hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were.

“Sounds a lot more entertaining than art history,” you grumble a little, slumping back into your chair at your desk. Your body warms as Azriel comes to stand behind you, planting a hand on the surface and resting his chin on your head as he leans over to look at your textbook.

“Ancient Rome,” he comments, and you can feel the delicious rumble of his full-toned voice. It makes you shiver in your seat, and you wonder if he notices you tensing, trying to stifle your reaction to his single word. “It’s not that hard, princess.”

“Of course you would be good at it,” you groan, slumping back in your seat. It causes Azriel to slip away, planting himself firmly on the edge of your desk. “You’re good at everything.” His golden eyes twinkle as he preens. You narrow your eyes at his smirk. “Oh, shut up.”

“Didn’t even say anything, princess,” he muses. “If I help you out with art history, will you be good for me, too?” 

You can’t help the rush of arousal spilling into your veins like adrenaline. The way he’s staring down at you through lowered lids, smirk turned into a face more serious, it’s a taunt as much as it is an offer.

“You wish,” you murmur back. There’s no heat to your response because it’s all collected between your thighs that you’re pressing firmly together.

“I do,” Azriel responds, gaze fiery.

And, well, those catacombs will still be there tomorrow. 

You allow Azriel to pull you up from your chair and into his chest. His hands find your hips while you wrap yours around his neck, amiring one another. It’s a soft moment backed by the buzzing bass of Cassian’s party but you couldn’t be happier right now, with Azriel holding you in his arms. 

You trail your fingers down his chest and he watches you, bright eyes never leaving yours as you swiftly slide them under the hem of his shirt. You can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you slide across his abdomen, reveling in the smooth skin of his chest, fingers dancing over the ridges of muscle. 

His grip tightens on your hips but you urge him with a soft tug to take the shirt off. Reluctantly, Azriel removes his hands from you only long enough to rip the shirt over his shoulders and then they’re back, pulling you closer than before.

You trace the line of his jaw and he allows you to drink in your fill of him because you’re looking at him like you’ve just found your inspiration for your next project, and he likes that raw look in your eyes, likes being the one you’re solely focused on. 

Moving downwards, you follow the line of his collarbones, fingering at the whorling ink there, like shadows of the night. They expand up across his broad shoulders and Azriel shivers when you lean in and flick your tongue against them, as if you can somehow taste their night-chilled forms.

Azriel’s breath hitches in his throat as you take your time inspecting each and every single one of his tattoos. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re touching him makes him harder than a rock, and his cock strains painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He won’t move until you’re done, though, he won’t dare to break your concentration. 

Wrapped up in the black of his shadows are two cupids, bows fully loaded and ready to launch their arrows. On his arm, the tattoo of the female warrior you’d noticed at lunch when you were secretly admiring it, trying to figure out who it was. 

“Who is this?” you ask softly, and his answer is just as quiet, not wanting to shatter the trance you both seem to be stuck in.

“Nemesis. The goddess of vengeance,” Azriel explains, and your eyes are soft with grief when they flick upwards to meet his. He’s smiling softly at you though, and tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. He nods his head towards his other arm, showing you the other scrawled across that bicep. “This is Eleos, goddess of forgiveness.”

You can’t help the urge to surge forward and kiss him. His tattoos serve as reminders of a life he once lived, one filled with rage and hurt, the yearning to harm his step-brothers a forceful one. As time went on and his hands healed, he’d gotten that tattoo of Eleos, not because he was forgiving any of his family for how he’d been treated, but a year later when he was learning how to forgive himself for the time spent hating what had been done to his hands. 

And with those hands, Azriel lifts you into his arms. He’s kissing you just as passionately as you’re kissing him because without even an explanation, you seem to understand the artwork poked into his skin. 

He places you on the bed and follows you up onto it but you’re not done with your exploration yet. With little coaxing, you find yourself straddling Azriel, pulling away from a dizzying kiss and resuming your pandering of his body. 

An image of a winged man falling from the sky on the side of his ribcage, and two wings defining the hard muscle leading to the tent in his pants that makes your mouth water. These wings are feathered, unlike the membranous bat-like ones painted large across his back. Each and everyone is more captivating than the last, and as your fingers hover around the waistband of his pants, you lean forward and lick a long stripe over those wings.

“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hips jolting at the movement. His hands smooth your hair from your face where it’s falling with the angle and all of a sudden you want to feel those hands fisting around your hair, guiding your head while your mouth is full of his cock. “Princess,” Azriel warns, but the sound is choked, “I thought you were studying.”

“I am,” you answer, unbuttoning his pants. Azriel’s not doing a lot to help you focus on that work though, and you won’t be able to focus until you’ve tasted him, felt him like the piece of artwork he is. “I’m cashing in on my reward early.”

He hums, helping you rid him of his pants and briefs. His cock sticks out and it’s one of the best looking cocks you’ve seen in your life. It’s pink and leaking at the tip, ready for you to wrap your lips around. 

“You don’t have to—” Azriel’s words dispel into a rough moan when you take him into your hand and lick his slit. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, just as heady and delightful as the rest of him is. You know that you don’t have to, but with a tug of your hand up his shaft while you suck the head of his cock into your mouth his fingers tighten in your hair and you want this, you really really want this.

Swirling your tongue teasingly around the head of his cock, you jerk and twist the length of him. On reflex, Azriel tries to shove you further down on his cock and you allow it, moaning around his length when he hits the back of your throat.

You take him as far as you can, reveling in the noises he makes in response to your movements. When you suction your cheeks in, lathing your tongue wet and wild across his silky cock, when you use your grip on his base to jerk him off when you need to come up from air. You keep the crown of his cock in your mouth because he seems to love the warmth of your breath as you pant around him. 

“Princess,” he hisses when you twist your hand, “Fuck, baby, need you to stop or I’m gonna cum.” 

Gods, do you want that. Before you can eagerly continue your ministrations, Azriel is easing you away from his cock, his hands tearing at your clothing. You’re distracted by the way his hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, and you’re trying to relieve yourself of your clothing so you can feel more of those hands on your bare skin.

“Come here, gorgeous,” Azriel pants, pressing your naked body flush against his. You slant your mouth over his as you grind against him, your clit throbbing with need.  

“Condom,” you breathe between kisses. His hands smooth from your hips up your back and down again, guiding your hips to drag your cunt against his shaft.

“Pocket,” Azriel answers, unable to tear his mouth from yours. You strain over the side of the bed but are able to retrieve the condom with ease. You don’t even take the time to scoff at him for stuffing there out of convenience before he came over, because he clearly knew where the night was going to end up. 

You tear off the corner of the foil and roll it down his hot cock. Azriel’s golden eyes are hot on your body as he pulls you closer to him for another kiss. He’s addicted to your taste on his lips, the feeling of your body pressed against his. 

And you’re addicted to him just as much. The way he caresses every inch of your skin like you’re the finest piece of art he’s finally able to touch. The words that roll so effortlessly off of that wicked tongue of his, good for more than taunting you. 

“When is ‘yet?’” you ask, kissing across his chest. 

Azriel blinks, looking down at you with the cutest furrow of his dark brows. “What?”

You huff laugh at his confusion but are unable to keep your wet pussy from sliding across his heavy cock. The movement causes the both of you to moan and you melt a little against the warmth of his chest.

“You told Rita that I’m not your girlfriend yet,” you explain, finding the strength to continue your path down his body. You lap over one of his nipples and enjoy the way Azriel’s muscles flex. “So, when is ‘yet?’”

Azriel’s fingers find your chin, stopping you from biting between his pectorals like you want. He looks just as devastated by that thought as you are. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? We haven’t even had our first date yet,” he teases and you fail to bite back your grin.

Your first date is tomorrow, and you have no idea what he has planned. You’re pretty sure that there’s no way that he’s going to be able to beat your first kiss at the museum, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Azriel, it’s that he’s full of surprises.

“We shared a milkshake,” you pout, squirming as he pokes at your sides. You enjoy the way that his chest shakes with laughter.

“And that counts as a date?” he questions, quirking a brow. You settle against him, even though your cunt is screaming at you to shift a little lower and sit on his cock. Azriel strokes soothing lines up your body, enjoying the feel of your smooth skin beneath his marred fingertips. 

You shrug, “If you want it to.” 

He puffs out a laugh. “You’re low maintenance.”

“For now,” you grin, poking his nose. “But that wasn’t an answer, Azriel.”

He can’t help himself, craning forward to kiss you. You draw him in like a magnet, and he’s never felt this raw need to be around someone before. When he first met you, he’d thought it a coincidence, how you kept running into each other, how he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you. 

Now, he knows it’s much more than that.

“And is this answer imperative to how the rest of the night goes?” He asks, rubbing his cock in a long stroke across your wet cunt. 

You gasp, bucking back against him, but you want your answer, first.

“I mean, I can go next door and—”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence, princess,” Azriel growls, grabbing your hips to roll you over. You squeak at the swift movement and suddenly you’re pressed into the mattress with Azriel’s looming form towering over you. His gold eyes are sharp with possessiveness. It makes you tingle. “You’re all fucking mine.”

He follows his words by nestling the head of his cock between your folds. You squirm, trying to get him to press further into you but Azriel holds steady, even through your teasing.

“If I’ll have you, you mean,” your chest heaves with anticipation, your fingernails already digging into his skin. You want him inside of you right fucking now, and you’re regetting taunting him already. “Which means you’d have to ask me, though. See if I even want you back.”

“Oh, but I know you do, princess,” Azriel’s voice takes on the low edge that makes you want to scream. His cock inches further into your needy cunt and he nips the shell of your ear. “I know you want this all to yourself.”

Your keen betrays your words. “S’not that special,” you slur blissfully. You already feel so full with the head of his cock teasing that bundle of nerves that had your stomach coiling already.

The feeling of your nails ripping at his skin tells Azriel differently.

He hums like he believes you, knuckles brushing torturously down the center of your body to play with your throbbing clit. His chest constricts with the way that your cunt strangles his cock and he takes a deep breath so he doesn’t come only from this; your stubbornness and the way that you’re wriggling on his cock.

“How about I show you how special my cock is, and then I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He proposes. 

“How about you ask me to be your girlfriend and then you show me how not special your cock is,” you counter, but you’ll do just about anything to have him pressing in all of the way.

“Fine,” Azriel relents. “But if I make you orgasm more than three times, you can’t call my cock ‘not special’ ever again. You have to refer to it as the most special cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on. Oh, and that it’s pretty too.” And fuck, it really is pretty like this, tucked into your tight heat.

“Kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” you ask, whining as he pulls completely out of you to rub himself down the length of your cunt. That glowing look in his eyes makes you glare, but it’s shortlisted when he nudges himself back inside of you again.

“More than a mouthful, princess, as you well know,” Azriel smirks, and you pinch his side. It does little to deter him, though. “You want it? You’re going to have to agree to my terms.”

“Did you want a blood oath or…” he threatens to remove his cock again and you scramble, clawing at his hips to keep him inside of you. “Fine! Fine.”

Azriel leans down and the way that his cock plunges a centimeter further into your aching cunt has you gasping, moaning against his mouth. You want to bite that smirk right off of his lips but he tastes too good, and his tongue is swirling against yours, making you forget. “Was going to ask you to be my girlfriend anyway, princess, even if you hadn’t agreed.”

You shift your hips and it works to guide him a little further inside but it’s not enough. You feel hot, like you’re going to explode if he doesn’t start moving soon. You need to feel his entire length stretching you out, shoving the air from your lungs and taking you like he’s no longer in control of his body.

“Well, bully for you, Azriel.” You dig your nails into the meat of his back. “I’ll take some of the most special cock I’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on,” you grit. “Though that is yet to be determined.”

Your taunt does nothing to irk him into moving, though. Instead, he’s smirking down at you again. “You forgot pretty, princess. It’s pretty too, isn’t it?”

“Come on then, pretty,” you groan, on the verge of screaming. 

“I don’t think so, I haven’t held up my part of the bargain yet.” The words are followed by him pressing himself the rest of the way inside of you, enjoying the way the tension leaves your body and has you melting for him. You want him to start moving, need him to start moving, but Azriel’s gone all serious all of a sudden, peppering you with kisses until you can focus on him once more. “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you cry out, feeling so full your heart could burst. You drag Azriel in for a kiss that’s hot and desperate and a little sloppy. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, Az. Now, please move, baby, I need your cock.”

His gaze goes molten at the pet name the way you’re begging for him. He pulls his hips back and presses them forward again, finally giving you the friction you’ve both been desperately craving. 

“Of course, princess. Let’s give you what you need.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

[throwaway-yandere]

FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 

The sixth. 

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this? 

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 

But that’s not the issue right now. 

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere alhaitham #yandere wanderer #yandere kazuha #yandere scaramouche #yandere kaveh #yandere kazuha x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere male lead #soft yandere #tw yandere #scaramouche #genshin imagines #alhaitham #kaveh #kaedehara kazuha #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yancore #tag: flawless

[beenbaanbuun]

hi bunny! <33 i wanted to ask if you could do a little fic of how the ateez boys (specifically jjong) would be like during aftercare ❤️ after a rougher session— i’m in need of comforty cute stuff rn lmao 😭 no pressure ofc! luv u bun bun 🫶

aftercare w/ateez

hongjoong

i feel like hongjoong is very prepared for aftercare, especially if he knows in advance that it’s going to be a rougher session

like he already has a glass of water and a snack bar on the nightstand ready to go

coos and praises you as he breaks the bar into tiny pierces and slides them between your lips with his fingers

will absolutely force you to pee and shower once he thinks you’ve got your energy up enough to walk to the bathroom

stays with you the whole time you pee, and slides into the shower beside you to wash your hair

unlike some of the others i don’t believe that the shower will to anything else because hongjoong has a modicum of self control and can see you naked without going feral…

seonghwa

seonghwa’s first instinct is to go and grab a washcloth from the bathroom so he can wipe down the mess between your legs

of course, while he’s in the bathroom, he kills two birds with one stone and begins to draw a bath for you

wipes down your sticky skin with the warm cloth, all while whispering praises

‘i know you’re sensitive but you’re being such a good girl by letting me clean you! just a little more and it’ll be over, my darling.’

once you’re somewhat clean he guides you to the bathroom and helps you into the bath before going to chance the sheets

comes back the second they’re changed and in the washer so he can sit on the side of the tub and watch you with a pretty smile

yunho

cuddly boy!!

will literally just hold you to his chest and stroke his hand up and down your spine while the two of you return your breathing to normal

isn’t so fussy about the ‘clean’ aspect of it all, but will definitely make you go pee because we do not want any UTI’s in this house!

and once you’re finished peeing, he just ticks you back into his nice strong arms and lets you fall to sleep in his grasp

he trusts you enough to know that you’ll tell him if you need anything else; water, a snack, all that jazz

he also knows you enough to know that is so incredibly rare that you’ll want anything other than him and his warm cuddles

because let’s be real, lying on top of yunho with your head tucked into his neck and his long arms holding you in place is actually the best feeling in the world

yeosang

you know my thoughts on yeosang’s sex style so i also have to assume that he takes his job of aftercare very seriously

it’s half a guilt thing because baby boy went so hard that now he has to take care of you; he needs to know that you’re okay and he didn’t do too much

he starts by wiping you down and you’re guaranteed to be oversensitive, but he just shushes you and tells you how well you’re doing

ideally he’d like you to shower, but you’re too boneless right now and he doesn’t want to leave you for long enough to run a bath

and when he’s all done cleaning you up, he’ll hold a straw to your mouth, watching you as gulp down the water he brought you

i can see him needing his own validation as well so he asks you plenty of questions

did he go to far? did you like it when he did that one thing? were you having as much fun as he was? he really is desperate to know that you were having a good time

san

san is so fucking clingy that from the moment he goes soft, he will not let you out if his sight

he won’t send you to the bathroom yourself with promises of cuddles when you get back; why would he when he can follow you in there to hold your hand while you pee?

and while you’re in the shower you better let this man wash your hair, your body, your face, anything he can, unless you want him to pout

sits you on the toilet seat while he brushes your teeth; it’s cute but you can’t help but feel shy as he holds your jaw and looks down at you

and then when he’s sure you’re squeaky clean and happy, he bundles you up in his arms and drags you back to bed with him

from which there will be no escape, by the way; if you even dream about getting out of bed, san will be pouting and complaining

mingi

i like to think that he puts his mind, body and soul into sex, so he’s probably just as tired as you when it’s over

ideally, he’d just like to stay in bed with you, but he knows you have to replenish yourself, so he sets you little tasks

“can you go get a wash cloth from the bathroom so i can wipe you down?”, “go piss, girl. i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

and you best believe that after every single task you complete, he’s praising you like you’ve just cured world hunger or something

lips pressed against yours, letting you know just how good you are for him and how proud he is of you for doing what he asks

it’s safe to say youre leave your submissive headspace any time soon, not when mingi has you in his grasp, whispering sweet praises in your ear

wooyoung

wooyoung likes to do everything for you and if he even catches you lifting a finger he will become the most annoying person to ever walk this earth

like he’ll be getting you a glass of water and he’ll come back to the bedroom to see you with a tissue between your legs and all he can thing is how dare you?

literally storms over and takes it away from you before continuing the job himself, muttering under his breath as he cleans you up

“you weren’t so independent when you were begging for my dick, hm?” he scowls, “you need me to fuck you properly, so what makes you think you don’t need to help you with this too?”

like honestly, he’s kind of mean with it but with his gentle touch and the tiny kisses that he’s pressing to your thighs, you know he isn’t actually mad

just being his regular wooyoung-ish self…

jongho

oh you think he’s a teddy bear? wrong; during aftercare you’re his teddy bear and there’s nothing you can do about it!

because he’s way too strong for you to escape from the grasp he has on you, no matter how much wriggling you do

it’s fine though, because jongho always keeps. a bottle of water by his bed and a few snacks in his drawer and a pack of baby wipes too

you literally don’t even have to move from his arms for him to take care of you; everything you need is right there!

of course when you tell him you need to use the bathroom he’s pouting, but then you tell him he can come with you and he’s happy again

he doesn’t consider the fact that he can’t squeeze you to death when you’re actually on the loo, so when he realises that he’s pouting again

literally clings to you the moment you stand up, wasting no time in dragging you back to bed for more cuddles

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez blurbs

[jinkicake]

Stuck in the Middle

You’re stuck between him and a hard place. 

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao x Reader

A/N: I’m not going to post this weekend so here is a little something that I finished before I got sick heheh I can’t remember where I got this idea from but I wanted to try writing it

SMUT // NSFW 

WC - 1.7k 

~~~

Diluc R.

“My dear, I am begging you to stop squirming.” Diluc’s usual leveled voice sounds desperate to your own ears, you could almost believe he is starting to pant. You ignore him and shift your weight on your feet, unintentionally rubbing up against the bar owner. 

“I can’t help it,” You bite back as Diluc’s hands tightly squeeze your waist. His fingers dig into your sides as he grits his teeth and tries everything to prevent a nightmare from happening in his pants. “it’s just so tight in here.” The proximity of Diluc’s body pressed against your own starts to make your mind spin with possibilities. 

There are so many things you could do with him if you were not stuck in a closet within the Favonius headquarters. 

“Why did we even plan to regroup here anyway?” At your snappy tone, Diluc silently raises a brow. He doesn’t need to remind you that this was your genius plan and he merely went along with it to see you satisfied. “Just grab the key out of my back pocket then we can leave,”

As you glance back at your pocket and slightly lift your hip in Diluc’s direction, the man stalls in his movements. Diluc hesitates with his hand and hovers it right above your lower back. He extends his touch only to draw it away when he gets too close. 

“I can’t,” He murmurs and you would explode with anger if not for the deep blush now covering his face. 

“You can, you can,” You try your best to encourage him by placing your hands against his abdomen and fisting the material of his shirt in your palms. With each tug of the material, you weaken Diluc’s willpower more and more. “look it’s easy!” In contrast to the owner, with little hesitancy, you stick your hand in Diluc’s back pocket and he stiffens immediately under your touch. The poor man meets your sudden boldness with a swift glare. 

“If it is so easy then why don’t you do it yourself?” His irritation makes you tilt your head as you internally question his audacity. 

“Obviously, I would if I could reach! Your hand is right there, Diluc, just grab it!” Your nails dig into his pants, clawing at his backside and the sensation causes Diluc to press more of his weight against you. “Don’t get all chivalrous on me now.”

“I always treat you kindly,” Diluc all but spits through clenched teeth. 

“Not kindly enough if you won’t bail me out of this closet!” Your arguing is going nowhere but that is kind of the point. If you rile Diluc up just enough then you’ll be happy in no time. 

“How did the door lock in the first place?” 

If you had to guess, you could probably answer his question by merely covering your right eye (if you could bring your hands up to your face). 

“None of that matters! Diluc, we can either fuck in here or fuck on our bed at home. You choose and grab the damn key!” It seems you were too eager with your suggestion by the sudden glint in Diluc’s eyes.

It’s the same reason why you’re grinding on him a handful of minutes later, your moans messily muffled by his own mouth all while the key fits snuggly in Diluc’s palm.

Kaeya A.

Never in a million years did you expect to get stuck with Kaeya in the smallest storage closet known to man. Perhaps it was your fault for going along with his snooping of the Dawn Winery but, you didn’t expect Diluc to return early from his nightly shenanigans. 

Having the cavalry captain shove you into a broom closet with him in tow was not on your list of activities for the evening. 

In the small space, Kaeya is pressed up against you with no room to leave between his chest and pelvis with your backside. You can already feel the ache in your poor muscles from being smooshed up against the hard wall. This will be the last time you go along with the captain’s tricks. 

“Do you come here often?” Kaeya teases you as his lips brush against your ear, his hair tickling your cheek as he lowers his head to speak lowly to you. To hide your irritation, you bite the inside of your cheek and return to him with a sickeningly sweet tone. 

“Kaeya, I will bite your tongue off if you keep talking.” Your snappy retort is met with a low chuckle from the man behind you. The captain squeezes your hips with his large hands before lowering his lips to your jaw. 

“Kinky. Is that a promise?” His effortless charism is something you adore and cherish, but sometimes you really want to make the man crumble. 

It’s almost as if a lightbulb flickers above your head at the idea you’ve gained. Maybe being stuck like this isn’t as terrible as you imagined. 

“Make some more noise and you’ll find out,” Your whisper falls on deaf ears the moment you being to subtly shift your hips and place pressure against his core. The gentle roll of your hips, dragging up his hardening cock deliciously is enough to have Kaeya gasping out for air. 

“Oh, so this is what we’re doing?” He bites down on your ear as he braces himself against the wall with one of his elbows beside your head. “You’re making this too easy, honey,” His other hand snakes down from your hip to the front of your pants, and his fingertips sneak past your waistband as two of his fingers reach for your clit. No amount of biting the inside of your cheek or squeezing your eyes shut can hide the feeling of Kaeya’s talented fingers. 

The two of you play this game as if it is a mere push and pull. The more he toys with your cunt, the more your grind back against him. 

“First one to cum loses and has to go distract Diluc while the other escapes,” Kaeya’s heavy pants almost make you imagine that you’re winning if not for the tightening feeling in your belly. “so be a sweet girl and come for me.” 

You stubbornly shake your head and try to hold your breath as your hips falter, Kaeya’s swift strokes are doing numbs on your resolve. 

You refuse to lose this way. 

Needless to say, the game ended in a tie since Kaeya was nearly finishing in his pants the moment he got you into the closet. By the unimpressed look on Diluc’s face when he saw you two scrambling for the exit, he already knew exactly where you both were. 

“What are the two of you doing here?”

Xiao

((stuck between a rock and a hard place... hehe))

“I have an idea of what to do to pass time,” 

It was not on your daily agenda to get stuck between two rocks while working on a commission with Xiao. With how messily you slipped when your foot caught on a crevice within the boulder, you would have plunged down if not for the adeptus who caught you. The only issue is the two of you got stuck in the process. 

“I’ll count how many stars I see and then you’ll count how many stars you see, whoever has more is the winner.” 

Xiao can’t play along with your game, no matter how much he wishes to please you. The only thing he can focus on is the tilt of your chin and the puff of your lips, his eyes are glued to your mouth as you press your lips together in thought. He’s not looking up at the sky, he’s looking in the complete opposite direction. 

As your eyes flicker back and forth as you count your stars, Xiao tightly swallows. This onset of feelings he is now forced to deal with since you are in such close proximity to him is not something he is ready to unbox. Who knew a human could have so much power over an adeptus. 

“Xiao?” Your sweet voice calls his attention away from your lips and instead to your eyes. You expectantly wait for him to respond and the man does so with a slight grunt. “I was thinking about it, can’t you just teleport us out of here?” Your questioning gaze makes Xiao stiffen. The adeptus can only do so much without his focus, in this situation he can’t think about teleporting or anything other than you being right in front of him. You’re pressed so kindly up against his chest, he can feel every hint of warmth your body has to offer and-

He shakes his head out of fear that his voice might fail him. 

“Can we do something while we wait?” You’re looking at him so innocently that Xiao can only respond back with as much enthusiasm. He hopes he doesn’t come off as desperate. 

“Anything.”

“Archons,” The adeptus sucks in a breath as he stares down at your chest, how you got so much of your cleavage exposed he’ll never know. He quietly grunts and almost starts to pant as your thigh presses between his legs harder. 

“This is much more fun than counting the stars, right?” Who knew you could be so devious, so dirty-minded? This new revelation makes the adeptus’ head start to cloud over and through his lust-filled haze, he can only see you. Xiao hears the sweet giggles that leave your lips as you grind your thigh against his aching cock, he watches the sweet way you bash your eyelashes up at him. He can’t stand it, he needs to get out of here and take you somewhere else. “Xiao~”

Under the touch of your palms against his sensitive chest, the man almost starts to squirm. 

“Wait, (Y/N),” His abdomen begins to clench too tightly at this lewd act, he can’t cum like this. With all of his might, the adeptus pictures your bedroom and effortlessly teleports the two of you there as he has down a million times before. 

“Way to go, Xiao!” Your cheers are ignored as he pushes you back against your bed, shoving you down on your mattress before crawling over you.

“Now we are going to do this my way.”

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #Xiao x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x you #diluc smut #kaeya smut #xiao smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #xiaos spicy almond tofu