#why couldn't it be a STRANGER or an ACQUAINTANCE

[cr-komi]

"The Distance Between Us"

Summary: You sent nudes to the biggest fuckboy on campus, what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Female Reader

Genre: Smut, a very very small amount of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 12,400+

Warnings: Y/N is an absolute idiot, Yoongi is kind of a dick at the beginning, swearing, oral (male & female receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!) missionary pos., multiple orgasms.

Author's Note: This is not proofread so I apologize if there are mistakes! This one took me forever to write because I kept having writer's block and wanted to change a bunch of it but this was the final result so I hope you all like it!

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Come on, Y/N, just send it.

It'll be like ripping off a Band-Aid.

He'll like you even more if you do this.

It's only a picture, right?

Just a blurry mix of pixels and saturation, nothing more, nothing less.

His text glared back at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You stared at the message, contemplating every word, feeling the weight of his request pressing against your chest,

You didn't know who he was, not really. You didn't even know his name, although his phone number was engraved into your memory after seeing it so many times, tracing all the way back to that random evening a few weeks ago. But there was something about his mysterious aura that drew you in, like a moth to a flame. You couldn't resist the temptation to unravel the enigma that was him.

---

You sat in your dimly lit room, legs curled up beneath you as the soft glow of your phone illuminated your face. The familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach as you obsessively scrolled through Instagram, unable to tear yourself away from the seemingly perfect lives of your friends and acquaintances.

"Ugh, another vacation?" You muttered, glaring at the screen as you saw a picture--a perfect couple sipping cocktails on a pristine beach. "Of course, they're all smiles."

Your thumb swiped upward, revealing another post showcasing an enviable group of friends laughing and posing together. Their happiness felt so unattainable, further highlighting the loneliness that had become your constant companion.

"Must be nice," You whispered, voice laced with bitterness.

Your eyes scanned the screen, taking in the meticulously curated feed that presented a world you could only dream of inhabiting.

Just as your frustration reached its peak, a flicker of light caught your attention. It was a text message notification, appearing like an oasis in the digital desert you found yourself trapped in.

Eager for any distraction, you tapped the screen, feeling a flutter of hope that maybe it was someone reaching out to you,

A simple greeting was plastered across the screen, accompanied by an unfamiliar number. Your brow furrowed as you stared at the unknown sender. Confusion gnawed at you, and you hesitated before replying,

As you typed, your fingers moved cautiously across the screen before hitting send, taking a deep breath while waiting for a response.

The reply came almost instantly,

You scoffed. Whoever this was, they seemed ignorant, and you decided to play along,

You tilted your head back, attempting to recall any instance of sharing your number, but your memory failed you. How did this random stranger end up with your contact information when you couldn't remember giving it to them?

Your heart began to pound at his reply, fingertips hovering above the screen. "Is this some kind of prank?" you mumbled, mind racing with possibilities. Was it someone from school trying to mess with you? You haven't talked to Jungkook since your freshman year of college when he was your partner for a science project, why would he give your number out?

You couldn't shake off the feeling of intrigue and curiosity that coursed through your veins. Despite the skepticism that crept into your mind, a part of you wanted to believe that this encounter held some sort of significance. Perhaps it was a twist of fate, an unexpected connection waiting to be unveiled.

With hesitant determination, you decided to take a leap of faith and continue the conversation. The prospect of embarking on something new, something beyond the confines of your monotonous daily routine, enticed you. After all, what harm could it do?

You sighed, contemplating why Jungkook would be giving your number out, or how he even got it in the first place.

Your mind craved to uncover the truth behind this mysterious text conversation, even if it meant stepping into unknown territory,

You stared blankly at your phone, eager for a reply, but you were met with only silence. Minutes stretched into hours, and still no response came. Doubt began to creep in, mingling with the confusion that had settled in your mind. Maybe this was all just a cruel joke, a ploy to toy with your emotions.

But something inside you refused to believe that. There was an inkling of curiosity, a flicker of hope that urged you to hold on a little longer. So you waited, your eyes never straying far from your phone.

Days had turned into weeks, and yet the mysterious sender remained silent. The initial excitement had waned, leaving behind a sense of disappointment that weighed heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't help but wonder if you had been foolish for getting caught up in this unknown person's game.

The idea of giving up on waiting for a response finally began to creep in, but just as you were about to delete the number and move on, a notification jolted your phone awake. You hesitated, your finger hovering over the screen, afraid to hope again.

With a deep breath, you finally slid your finger across the screen, unlocking the message. Your heart sunk down into your stomach as you read the words that appeared before you,

Fuck.

--- Ever since the day he asked if you sent nudes, you had been giving yourself over to him, allowing him to slowly chip away at your self-worth. Each time he asked, you obliged, sending him a piece of yourself captured through the lens of your phone. It started as something simple, maybe a picture of your cleavage or the curve of your ass, just as you had convinced yourself in the beginning. But with each photo sent, you felt a piece of your soul fade, replaced by an emptiness that gnawed at you from the inside out.

You desperately craved his validation, his affection, believing that if you gave him what he wanted, he would finally see your worth. But no matter how many pictures you sent, it was never enough. He always asked for more. More skin, more vulnerability, more pieces of you to devour.

With every photo, you hoped for a different reaction from him - one that acknowledged your value as more than just pixels and saturation. But all he ever responded with were simple words of praise and shallow compliments that never reached beyond the surface.

You were losing yourself in the process, your identity becoming reduced to a series of explicit images sent through a screen. Each picture felt like a betrayal to your own integrity, yet you continued to send them, hoping that this time would be different, that this time he would finally see you.

But deep down, you knew the truth. He didn't truly care about you. You were nothing more than his object of desire, a means to fulfill his own selfish needs. The more pictures you sent, the more power he held over you.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, tears streaming down your face as you stared at his latest text message. It was as if a veil had been lifted from your eyes, revealing the harsh reality of what this relationship had become. You were nothing more than an object to him, a means to fulfill his desires without any regard for your own well-being.

The weight of his words pressed upon your chest, suffocating you with the realization that you had lost yourself in this desperate quest for validation. The vibrant colors of your world had faded into shades of gray, and you yearned to break free from the suffocating grip he had on your emotions.

There was a fire burning deep within you, a fire of anger and resentment that you had been trying to suppress for far too long. It was time to let it out, to confront him and put an end to this vicious cycle you had been caught in. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation that lay ahead, and that begun with asking Jungkook why he was giving your number away.

---

You spotted him on campus his familiar figure standing near the brick wall of the main building, a smirk playing on his lips as he chatted with the same group of friends he was always with, their laughter echoing through the air. It was a scene you had witnessed countless times before.

His presence sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of annoyance and frustration coursing through your veins. You felt a surge of anger rise within you, fueling your determination to confront him. With each step closer, your heart pounded louder in your ears, drowning out the noise of passing students and the rustling leaves overhead. Pushing through the crowd, you made your way toward him, ignoring the curious glances from passersby.

As you approached, Jungkook's eyes met yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before being replaced by his signature nonchalant expression. His friends noticed your arrival too, their conversations dying down as they turned their attention to the unfolding scene.

"Jungkook!" you called out, your voice stronger than you had anticipated. His attention snapped towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked you up and down.

"Y/N, right? Shit, I haven't talked to you in awhile. How have you be--"

"Have you been giving my number out?" You interrupted, your voice dripping with anger. His attempt at casual conversation only fueled your frustration. You crossed your arms, staring him down with unyielding determination.

Jungkook's expression shifted, a hint of guilt clouding his features for a moment. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Look, if this is about the text messages--"

"Of course it is," you snapped, your voice laced with bitterness. "What else would it be about? You're the one who gave my number away without my permission!"

Jungkook's friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension between the two of you. Jungkook ran a hand through his tousled hair, his gaze shifting to the ground beneath him.

"I didn't think it would be a big deal," he muttered, barely meeting your eyes, "he told me I wanted it so I gave it to him."

Your jaw dropped at his words, a mix of anger and disbelief bubbling up inside you. How could he so casually dismiss your privacy and consent? How could he believe that just because someone wanted your number, it was okay to give it away without your permission?

"Who are you talking about? Who did you even give my number out to?"

"Does it really matter?" Jungkook replied, his voice laced with irritation. "It's not like it's a big deal. You're making a fuss out of nothing."

"Jungkook, it absolutely matters!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You violated my privacy. You had no right to give out my number without my consent."

Jungkook nodded, glancing around nervously before finally meeting your gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's Yoongi," he confessed, his eyes filled with remorse, "He said he knew you from one of your classes and wanted to get to know you better."

Jungkook's words hung in the air, like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You could feel the blood rushing to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he trust Yoongi with your personal information without even asking you?

"Yoongi?" You echoed, feeling a strange mix of relief and betrayal. "Why would he ask for my number in the first place?"

Jungkook hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don't know, Y/N. If you want to figure it out, ask him, he's over there."

Taking a deep breath, you turned your attention towards where Jungkook had gestured. Your eyes fell upon a figure standing a few feet away, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. His expression was unreadable, a flicker of in his eyes of something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

As soon as he met your gaze, he smirked, walking off in a crowd of students with an air of nonchalance. Your anger and frustration intensified as you watched Yoongi disappear into the distance, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Thank you, Jungkook." You mumbled, but before he could offer a response, you turned on your heel and began to chase after Yoongi, set on confronting him and demanding an explanation. Those who surrounded you parted ways as you weaved through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest, fueling your determination to catch up to him.

The campus was bustling with students going about their day, but you barely registered their presence. Your focus was solely on finding Yoongi and demanding an explanation for his actions. As you made your way through the crowd, the image of his smirking face played over and over in your mind, intensifying your frustration and boldness.

You clenched your fists as you trailed behind Yoongi across the college campus, leaves crunching underfoot.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fueled by anger and determination. You had been following him for what felt like hours – down crowded halls, past classrooms filled with students, even into a noisy cafeteria where you had to duck behind a vending machine to avoid detection, and although he had looked behind him numerous times during the journey, your remained unnoticed.

You watched as he strolled casually, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his faded denim jacket, apparently oblivious to your presence. But every time you thought you were about to catch up to him, he would disappear around a corner or slip through a door, leaving you becoming increasingly more and more frustrated.

As you navigated through the labyrinthine campus, your mind raced. Why had he texted you in the first place? What kind of person asks someone for nudes out of the blue? And how could you have been so stupid as to trust him?

With so many questions running through your mind, you became distracted, losing sight of him yet again.

Frustrated, you gave up and retreated to the library, the closest place you could find after travelling on foot for so long.

The hushed atmosphere there was a welcome respite from the chaos of your pursuit, and you sank into a plush armchair near the back, your eyes scanning the shelves aimlessly.

And that's when you saw him.

Yoongi was standing in the history section, a heavy tome clutched in one hand.

Sighing, he glanced up and locked eyes with you, his face paling visibly. Before he could react, you stormed over, grabbing his wrist so as to not let him escape you again.

"Yoongi, why did you text me? Why did you even ask Jungkook for my number in the first place?" You demanded, your voice barely more than a whisper but seething with fury. "Why did you ask me for nudes?"

He blinked at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Why are you even upset?" he countered, his voice low and measured. "You're the one who sent them."

"So? You shouldn't have asked for them in the first place." You hissed, your anger boiling over.

"You shouldn't have sent them." He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Look, it doesn't even matter at this point just--"

"Keep your voice down," he interrupted, glancing nervously around the library.

"No! You need to hear this," you yelled, forgetting your surroundings as your emotions took control. "You had no right to ask for those pictures, and then to turn around and act like it's no big deal? It's disgusting!"

Annoyed by your yelling, Yoongi grabbed your arm with surprising force and pulled you through the maze of bookshelves.

"Yoongi, what are you--"

"Be quiet."

You struggled against him, but he didn't relent until the two of you stumbled into a cramped supply closet. Slamming the door shut behind him, he released you, his face a mask of frustration and something else you could fully recognize.

"Listen," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You didn't have to send those pictures if you didn't want to, and I mean...I'm sorry for asking for nudes but I won't lie," he leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against your cheek, "you looked pretty damn good in every single one."

And so, you stood there, back against the door, his words washing over you like a tidal wave. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice - he was right. You had sent those pictures. You were the one who had been so flattered by his attention that you had forgotten about boundaries and given in to his request with such reckless abandon. But that still didn't give him the right to use them as he pleased! You pushed past him and walked out of the closet, trying to compose yourself.

As you stepped out, the library came rushing back into view, filled with students hushed amidst their studies. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious as everyone's eyes turned towards you as if they knew what had just gone down in the supply closet. Your face burned under their scrutiny as you tried to make your way back to your seat without making eye contact with anyone.

But before you could take a step, a strong hand gripped your wrist once again and spun you around to face Yoongi. His eyes bored into yours with unwavering intensity, his jaw tightened as he spoke lowly; "Look... I know I messed up." He paused, stepping closer, his eyes boring into yours are he spoke, "but you sent them to me, Y/N, and I didn't force you. You could have stopped me at any time, but you didn't. And for what it's worth, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought...actually, you know what? It doesn't matter."

He let go of your wrist and turned away, walking towards the stacks of books on the shelves nearby as if nothing had happened. You watched him go with a mixture of emotions churning inside of you. He was right, of course. You did send those pictures willingly. It would be your fault if they got out.

How could you be so fucking stupid? Why did you think any of this would be a good idea?

You couldn't shake the feeling that something about his apology felt half-hearted, like he was only saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But still, a small part of you yearned for him to be sincere.

---

The twilight seeped through the gauzy curtains, casting a lavender hue over your room where you sat, knees drawn up to your chest on the window seat. Outside, the world was softening into dusk, but inside, a storm brewed within you. Your eyes were fixed vacantly on the snow that began to layer on the window pane, mirroring the turmoil in your heart.

"Yoongi," you murmured under your breath, the words tasting bitter. The memory of your encounter with him was like a splinter—sharp, intrusive, and impossible to ignore. You replayed your last conversation over and over, each iteration twisting the knife a little deeper.

What had you expected? For him to suddenly understand? To apologize?

"Focus on something else, anything else," you chided yourself, uncurling from your perch.

You moved towards your cluttered desk, where an array of distractions awaited: unread books, sketches half-done, a guitar that hadn't felt the warmth of your touch in days. Your fingers hovered over a novel, its spine still creased with promise. But even as you pulled it toward yourself, the printed words blurred, drowned out by the echo of Yoongi's voice.

"Of course," you scoffed, tossing the book aside with a soft thud against the hardwood floor. "Books are no refuge when your mind is this loud."

You walked over to the mirror, studying your reflection—as if searching for an answer in the contours of your own face. With a sigh, you reached up, freeing your hair from its ponytail. Strands fell around your shoulders like dark silk, a curtain to hide behind.

"Maybe I'll just go to sleep," you said to your mirrored self, "sleep it off and wake up with a fresh head."

But as you turned away from the mirror, your phone buzzed atop the nightstand, an invasive vibration that commanded attention. You hesitated, a small part of you hoping, dreading. Your hand shook slightly as you picked it up. The screen lit up, and there it was—a message from Yoongi,

It was simple. A casual, stark contrast to the chaos he'd stirred in you. Just three letters, yet they held the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

"Hey?" You repeated aloud, a laugh without humor escaping your lips. "After everything, all he can say is 'hey'?"

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, indecision warring with the urge to respond. To lash out or to leave it be? But beneath the hurt and confusion, a sliver of hope glimmered—the kind that refused to be extinguished even by the fiercest storm.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of olive branch, Min Yoongi?" You whispered, the beginning of a response forming beneath your breath,

His reply came almost instantly,

As you weighed Yoongi's message, you mulled over the possibility that he might be sincere this time. He had apologized, and now he wanted to meet at a cafe. Was this his way to make amends? Or was it just another one of his schemes to get you to do something?

"Just do it, Y/N," You told yourself, "you never know what's going to happen."

With a resolute nod, you decided that now was as good a time as any.

Y/N stood in her cramped bedroom, her breath fogging the windowpane as she looked out at the snow-dusted street below. She was about to do something she'd been dreading for days – meet Yoongi at the cafe. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. With a resolute nod, you decided that now was as good a time as any.

"Right. Let's do this," she murmured to herself.

It was bitterly cold outside, but you didn't feel like making an effort to dress up for the occasion. Instead, you pulled on a cozy grey hoodie and a pair of comfortable black sweatpants. They were simple, but warm enough for the short walk to the cafe.

As you stepped outside, the chill hit you like a physical force. You shivered, burying your face in the soft fabric of your hoodie and pulling the drawstrings tight. The wind whipped around you, biting at your exposed cheeks and turning them pink. Despite the cold, you couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the frost-covered trees and the crunch of ice beneath your boots.

Upon arriving at the cafe, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him through the window – Yoongi, sitting alone at a small table near the back, fingers tapping impatiently against his coffee cup.

You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, even from this distance.

As you pushed open the door and made your way over to his table, you felt an unsettling warmth blossoming within her chest. It was strange, feeling drawn to someone who had caused so much turmoil in your life. But here you were, unable to look away from his dark eyes and strong jawline.

"Yoongi," you said softly, your voice wavering slightly as you took the seat across from him.

"Y/N," he replied, barely looking up from his coffee. But when he did, his gaze seemed to take you in with an intensity that made you shiver. There was a hunger in his eyes that you'd never seen before in anyone – lust, perhaps?

"Um, so," you stammered, struggling to regain your composure and focus on the task at hand. "What did you...want to talk about...?"

"Well..." he began, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back in his chair, never breaking eye contact.

Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, trying to find the right words to express how you felt about everything. You knew you had to face him, and move forward. But with every second spent in Yoongi's presence, you found herself increasingly drawn to him, despite everything he'd done.

"Yoongi, I—" you started, but couldn't finish, swallowing hard as you struggled to compose herself.

"Go on," he urged, a slight smirk appearing on his lips as if he knew exactly what was going through your mind.

You hesitated, biting your lip nervously, but then steeled yourself. Your words tumbled out in a rush, "I-I don't know what you want from me, Yoongi. Are you really sorry, or is this just another game to you? Because I can't do this anymore, I can't keep feeling like this, like I'm being played."

Yoongi's smirk faded, and his eyes softened. He lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back up at you, his voice sincere when he spoke, "That's...actually why I asked you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for everything. Y/N...I-I'm so sorry. I never should have asked you for those nudes."

You avoided his eyeline, instead averting your gaze towards the floor, "Why...why did you ask me for them? It's not like you knew me before we even started texting and I--"

"Yes, I did, actually." He interrupted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, "I saw you at a party a few months ago a-and...Jungkook gave me your number. Don't ask me why he had it because honestly...I don't know. I wanted to talk to you but I-I just thought it would be better to text you."

You noticed the slight stutter in his voice and the way his fingers played with the edge of the table, betraying his nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, you took a moment before responding, "So you were talking to me all this time, knowing who I was?"

"Yes," he admitted, his shame evident in his eyes. "But it doesn't excuse how I acted, Y/N. I know that. I'm so sorry. If there's any way I can make it up to you, let me know. Please."

It was difficult for you to hear him say those words, but as he explained himself, something inside you began to crack. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was understanding, at least.

You looked at him, trying to decipher his words and find the truth behind them. "Why did you do it, Yoongi?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I...I don't know. I guess I thought it would be a way to get closer to you, or at least have some kind of connection. But it was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Your heart ached as you stared into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in his words. You knew this wasn't the end of your struggles, but maybe it was the beginning of something different.

"Thank you for the apology. I'm sorry too, I never should have sent anything to begin with."

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but you didn't have anything else to say, so you remained silent.

Yoongi looked down at the table, his dark hair falling into his eyes, "If it's okay with you..." He began, avoiding your gaze, "I-I want to get to know you better."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. Did you trust him? Could you let go of the past and move forward?

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, "Okay, Yoongi. Let's start over. But we're not doing anything like that again."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of relief in his eyes, "I understand. I won't push you, Y/N. I just...I'm so sorry."

"I-- it's fine, really."

And with that, you both sat in silence for a while, contemplating the new path that lay ahead of you. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but maybe it was worth a try.

---

It had been three months since you went to the café with Yoongi.

You found a new normal in your relationship, and although trust wasn't rebuilt overnight, you both were committed to fixing what had been broken.

The air between you and Yoongi had shifted. Instead of the tension and mistrust that had previously existed, there was now an underlying understanding and appreciation for each other's flaws and mistakes.

You appreciated how considerate Yoongi was, never pushing your boundaries or rushing things. Instead, he made an effort to listen intently, offering support and understanding as you opened up about your feelings and fears. It felt like the door to your heart was gradually creaking open, allowing the light of a blossoming bond to seep in.

One evening, you found yourself immersed in your studies at the library, the soft rustle of turning pages and hushed whispers creating a cocoon of tranquility around you.

Suddenly, your focus was interrupted by a gentle tap on your shoulder, causing your heart to skip a beat. You looked up to find Yoongi standing beside your table, his eyes crinkling as he offered his gummy smile that caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

"Hey," he said softly, like a lullaby whispered into the night. "I thought I might find you here."

"Yoongi!" You exclaimed, happiness bubbling up within your chest. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. What brings you to the library?"

"Call it intuition," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "I had a feeling you'd be here, studying late like always."

You chuckled, gaze drifting back to the stacks of books and papers spread out before you. "You know me too well," you murmured, feeling a twinge of embarrassment at your disorganized workspace.

"Indeed, I do," Yoongi agreed, his eyes lingering on your face. "But, I also know that you deserve a break. How about we head to my place and just relax for a bit?"

You hesitated, the thought of leaving your studies unfinished gnawing at you, but you couldn't deny the allure of spending time with Yoongi away from the pressures of academia.

You glanced back at him, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth, and you made your decision, "Alright," you conceded with a smile. "Let me just pack up my things."

"Take your time," Yoongi replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. The simple action spoke volumes – he was in no hurry, willing to wait as long as it took for you to feel comfortable. It was moments like these that reminded you of how far the two of you have come in rebuilding trust, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance you'd given him.

As the two of you walked out of the library together, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the snowfall had eased to a near halt as the two of you began your trek back to his apartment, leaving behind an untouched blanket of white in your wake.

The cold air stung your cheeks, but neither you nor Yoongi seemed to mind it much as you walked – the world felt hushed, almost magical.

"Is it always this beautiful?" you asked, your voice soft and breathy as you watched the last flakes fall from the sky.

"Sometimes," Yoongi replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I think it's just the right kind of weather for tonight."

Your steps fell in sync with each other, crunching softly against the snow beneath your feet. The streetlights cast warm, amber halos on the frosted ground, creating a comforting contrast against the winter chill.

"Tell me about your work," you suggested, curiosity piquing your interest. Yoongi had mentioned his desire to become a music producer during your conversations, but you wanted to learn more.

"Ah, well," he began, a modest smile gracing his lips. "I've been working on this new project lately – it's got a different vibe than what I usually do. But that's what makes it exciting."

"Sounds fascinating," you commented sincerely. "I can't wait to hear it when it's finished."

"Hopefully you'll like it," Yoongi replied, his eyes shining with gratitude at your enthusiasm.

As you approached his apartment building, you couldn't help but feel a slight surge of nerves. It was the first time you would be stepping into Yoongi's personal space, and there was an undeniable intimacy in that. You glanced over at him, wondering if he could sense your apprehension. However, his gaze remained fixed on the entrance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"Here we are," Yoongi announced as you walked into the warm, well-lit lobby. The sudden change in temperature made you shiver slightly, your body trying to adapt.

"Nice place," you commented, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Thanks," Yoongi replied, leading you toward the elevator. The ride up was quiet, the both of you lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated what might happen once the two of you were alone in his apartment.

When you finally entered Yoongi's space, you couldn't help but take it all in – the minimalist furniture, the impressive collection of vinyl records along one wall, and the cozy atmosphere that seemed to envelop the entire room. It felt like a sanctuary, a reflection of Yoongi himself.

"Make yourself at home," he offered kindly, gesturing toward the comfortable-looking couch.

"Thank you," you whispered, suddenly aware of just how intimate this moment was. You were standing in his apartment, seeing a side of him few people had ever been privy to. And as you took a seat on his couch, feeling the warmth of the cushions beneath you, you knew that you wanted to learn even more about the enigmatic man who had captured your interest.

"Would you like something to drink?" Yoongi asked, his voice soft yet inviting. His eyes, a rich dark chocolate color, held curiosity and a touch of shyness, reflecting his guarded nature.

"Sure, do you have any wine?" You replied.

You enjoyed how the warmth of the room seemed to embrace you, making you feel comfortable. It was a rare feeling for you, considering your own life and surroundings were often chaotic.

"Of course," Yoongi said with a subtle smile. He disappeared into the kitchen area, returning moments later holding two glasses filled with the familiar deep red liquid. He carefully handed one to you before taking a seat across from you on the couch.

"Thanks." You took a sip, savoring the smooth taste of the wine as it slid down your throat.

You noticed the way the moonlight that streamed through the windows caught the glass, creating a dazzling array of colors that danced along the edges.

"You're welcome." Yoongi raised his own glass and took a small sip. His gaze lingered on the window, seeming to find solace in the familiar sight.

"Your apartment is really lovely," You said earnestly, hoping to ease the initial tension between the both of you. "It has such a unique vibe."

"Thank you. I've put a lot of time and effort into making it my own little sanctuary," Yoongi admitted with a small smile. "I'm glad you like it."

As the two of you continued to chat, you both discovered shared interests and common ground – your love for music, your desire to create something meaningful, and the challenges you both faced in your pursuit of happiness.

With each revelation, the space between both of you seemed to shrink, and you found herself drawn to Yoongi's quiet intensity.

"Sometimes," Yoongi said, pausing to choose his words carefully, "it feels like life is a constant battle against time and expectations. It's hard to find moments like this, where you can just be yourself without any judgment."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a pang of empathy for the man sitting before you. "I know exactly what you mean. It's easy to get lost in the noise and lose sight of who you really are."

"Exactly." Yoongi's eyes met yours, and you're struck by the sincerity you see there. "But sometimes, it's in those quiet moments that we can truly find ourselves."

You couldn't help but be moved by the sincerity in Yoongi's words, and as the silence fell between you both, you found your gaze drifting towards the window again. The snow had stopped, leaving a blanket of white that seemed to silence the world outside.

"It's amazing how peaceful everything can be when it snows," you remarked, your voice barely above a whisper. "It makes you feel like anything is possible."

Yoongi nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It's a reminder that sometimes, we need to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the world around us."

You smiled, silently agreeing before looking around the living room, taking more of it in, "I can't believe we've known each other for as long as we have but I've never been to your apartment until now."

"Same goes for me," Yoongi replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's kind of funny to think about how we even became friends."

You scoffed, "It's funny now. But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I still have your contact name as the same thing it was when you first texted me, though."

Yoongi tilted his head in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It's still just your phone number. For some reason...I don't know I just like it that way."

Yoongi chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "That's...quite possibly the most strange yet charming thing I've heard today." He took another sip of his wine, the warmth spreading through his body as he savored the taste.

"Is that so?"

He nodded, smiling.

"Well, maybe I should change it then." You pulled out your phone, navigating to your contacts. "What should I change it to?"

"Nah," he began, putting his wine glass down before scooting towards you, "let me do it," he said playfully, snatching the phone from your grasp. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he held your phone aloft, just out of your reach. "Besides, I want to pick my own emoji."

"Give it back!" You laughed, your cheeks flushed with excitement as your reached for your phone. Your heart raced at your playful banter, something you had grown to cherish during your time with Yoongi.

"Uh-uh, not until I'm done," he teased, his tongue peeking out between his lips in a cheeky grin. He leaned to one side, keeping the phone firmly out of your grasp.

Your determination grew, and you leaned over him, stretching your arm out as far as possible.

Your fingertips brushed against the edge of your phone, but Yoongi shifted his weight again, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"Yoongi, seriously!" You huffed, laughter bubbling up despite your feigned annoyance.

"Fine, fine," he relented, bringing the phone down just enough for you to snatch it back. In your eagerness, you accidentally ended up leaning too far forward straddling him in the process, your thighs pressing against his hips.

You both froze, suddenly aware of your intimate position.

Your eyes locked, and the room seemed to fall silent around the two of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the proximity making you all too aware of the heat radiating from Yoongi's body.

You noticed the way his breath hitched in his throat, and the way his pupils dilated as the two of you continued to stare at each other.

A minute crawled by, every second feeling like an eternity as a thousand emotions swirled within you. Your mind raced with questions, doubts, and desires, and you could see the same turmoil reflected in Yoongi's eyes.

It was only when you felt a tremble in your hands that you realized what you were doing.

Face burning, you began moving your hips slightly in an attempt to get off of him, "Shit, Yoongi, I-I'm so sorry."

Although the movement you made caused a friction beneath you, and Yoongi froze, eyes widening, "W-wait, Y/N, stop...stop moving."

"What?" You stuttered, looking at him with wide eyes. "Why?"

His hands slid down to your waist in an attempt to hold you in place, "Just...stop." He managed to get out, his voice low and rough. "Don't move, please."

As you froze in place, it dawned on you that Yoongi's hands had now settled in a more intimate position on your hips, his fingers gently gripping your sides. You could feel his breath against your skin as his eyes locked onto yours, his expression filled with a mix of desire and fear.

"Y-Yoongi, I--" You moved again in another attempt to get off him, flustered.

"Fuck..." He groaned, allowing his head to fall back, and suddenly, you felt something underneath you.

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized what it was - his erection pressing right up against the heat of your core.

In fear and confusion, you pushed his hands off your waist, abruptly standing up before him, "I-I should go," you began, rubbing your hands against your sides in an attempt to wipe the sweat off of them, "I'll see you later?"

Yoongi watched as you quickly gathered your things and stood up from his couch, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find the right words. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body as your cheeks flushed red.

"Y/N, wait..." Yoongi's voice was hoarse, his eyes pleading as he reached for your hand. But you were already turning to leave the room, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue.

---

You avoided Yoongi for the next few days, his calls, his texts, everything.

You immersed yourself in your schoolwork, dedicating less time to visiting the library, as a means to escape the burden that this situation had imposed on you.

But as the days went by, you found yourself thinking about him more and more. About the heat of his touch, the desires you both had felt in that moment. You knew it had been an accident, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between you and Yoongi.

---

"You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"I-I know," you began, rubbing your temples, "but I have no idea where to start, I mean I just walked out on him, he probably hates me."

You and your best friend, Mina, had been sitting together in your apartment while you sulked over Yoongi, trying to figure out how you would speak to him again. Mina had been your rock through thick and thin, and now she was determined to help you out of this mess.

"Just think about it, Y/N. You owe it to yourself to at least try and resolve this. You can't just let things remain the way they are."

You nodded, biting your lip in frustration. "You're right, Mina. I just...I don't know where to start."

Mina smiled, placing her hand on your shoulder. "Well, you could start by sending him a message. You know, just a simple olive branch to let him know you're willing to talk."

"But...I walked out on him. I can't just text him after all that," you threw your face into your hands, "I feel so bad."

"Look Y/N," Mina began, "I know you feel bad but if you don't think that a text or a call is the right thing to do, then...I don't know what to say."

You scoffed, "Wow, thanks, that really puts things into perspective."

Mina laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, alright. But seriously, you need to figure out what you want to do, Y/N. It's been a few days, and if you don't make a move, you could lose him all together."

"I know, I know, you're right."

"Of course I am." Mina got up from where she was sitting, a soft smile on her face, "I have to go, but keep me updated."

"I will."

---

You lay restless in your bed, moonlight casting silver shadows on the walls. The clock's red digits flickered to 12:00 A.M., taunting you with each passing second. Sleep remained elusive, for Yoongi's face flickered behind your closed eyes, his laughter echoing in your ears.

You couldn't shake the feeling that their misunderstanding had driven a wedge between them.

Why did you have to fuck everything up?

"Damn it," you muttered under your breath, tossing and turning, your tangled sheets a testament to your inner turmoil.

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to find a solution to mend your fractured friendship with Yoongi. Desperation bubbled up within you until it burst like a geyser, propelling you out of bed.

"Fuck this," you hissed, flinging the covers off your body. With a newfound determination, you slipped into sweatpants and a hoodie, the fabric comforting against your skin.

You rummaged through the darkness, fingers closing around the familiar leather of your coat.

Your heart pounded like a drum as you prepared to step out into the cold night air, fueled by the need to speak with Yoongi and set things right.

You made your way through the hallway, and out the door of your apartment, each step setting a path towards your journey outside.

The cold winter night had wrapped its icy fingers around the city, but your determination burned like a fire inside your chest.

As you walked towards Yoongi's apartment, your breath condensed into fleeting clouds that disappeared as quickly as they were born.

You glanced around, taking in the peaceful serenity of the snow-covered streets, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows.

"Just talk to him, Y/N," you muttered under your breath, your words barely audible over the sound of your boots crunching on the snow beneath your feet.

When you finally arrived at the building, you rushed through the lobby without so much as a glance at the receptionist who looked up from her desk, startled by your sudden entrance.

The receptionist called after you, "Wait! Ma'am!" but you were already pressing the elevator button with impatience, your thoughts consumed by the urgency to reach Yoongi and set things straight.

"Out of order?" you read aloud, voice trembling with frustration. The sign taped to the elevator door mocked you, leaving you with no choice but to turn to the stairwell.

You hesitated for a moment, staring up at the seemingly endless flights of stairs. Yoongi lived on the highest floor, and the thought of climbing all the way up there was daunting. But the fire inside you continued to rage, and you knew there was no turning back now.

"Alright then," you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before dashing up the stairs, utterly determined.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you hurried up flight after flight, ignoring the burning sensation in your legs. Each step brought you closer to Yoongi, closer to the confrontation you knew the both of you desperately needed.

Finally, gasping for breath, you reached the top and stood outside Yoongi's door. You raised your fist and banged on it forcefully, your voice raised in desperation, "Yoongi, I need to talk to you,"

Silence. You could feel the heaviness of it pressing down on you, but you refused to let it deter you.

"Yoongi! Open the door, please I know you're in there," you spoke again, louder this time.

The door finally swung open, revealing Yoongi's tired and weary face. As your eyes met, you saw a sadness in his that you had never seen before, and it threatened to extinguish the fire inside you.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

With a sigh, he lowered his head, but he stepped aside from the doorframe, creating room for you to enter.

"What do you want?" He mumbled, still avoiding your gaze.

The weight of his question was heavy, but you didn't waver. You stepped into his apartment, feeling the warmth of the air against your skin.

"I came here to say that I'm sorry," you began, your voice barely audible, "I shouldn't have left like that. I was scared, and I didn't know how to handle things. I was wrong to run away, and I want you to know that I'm here now."

Yoongi remained silent, staring at his hands as if they were foreign to him.

You leaned towards him, grasping his bicep in your hand.

He flinched at the sudden touch, but didn't shy away.

"Please, look at me, Yoongi," you whispered, your eyes pleading with him to understand.

Your fingers wrap tightly around his arm, and you look up into his eyes, attempting to convey the sincerity of your words.

"Please, I-I just..."

Your let your hand fall back your side, trembling slightly, as your face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and regret.

You stumbled over her words, speaking at a rapid pace, desperate to communicate the weight of her remorse.

"Look, I know I messed up, okay? I didn't mean to just...run out on you like that. It was so stupid and thoughtless and, god, I'm so sorry, I really am."

He opened his mouth to say something, "Y/N--" but you cut him off, your voice rising in pitch as your anxiety grew.

"I've been thinking about it nonstop, and I hate myself for doing that to you and then just completely avoiding you afterwards. I was scared, and I panicked, and I didn't want to face what was happening between us."

"Y/N--" Again, he tried to interrupt, but you continued your rambling, feeling a knot tighten in your chest as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"Every time I think about how I left you like that I feel terrible. I can't stand the thought that I hurt you like that. I never wanted to be the type of person who runs away when things like that happen, but that's exactly what I did."

Your voice faltered, and you swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure.

Still, you refused to let him get a word in, terrified that if he spoke, it would confirm your worst fears – that you had irreparably damaged you friendship with him.

"Since then, I've been replaying that night in my head over and over again, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I should have stayed. We should have talked it out like adults. But instead, I behaved like a coward, and now I'm afraid I've lost you for good."

At last, you paused for breath, your chest heaving as you stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

He took a step closer, his expression unreadable, and she braced yourself for the impact of his words – whatever they may be.

Just as you were about the reply, Yoongi closed the distance between the two of you, his lips gently touching yours in a tender, slow kiss.

Yoongi's lips were soft as he pulled back, a small smile on his face as he looked at you, his fingers tangling in your hair. He tugged gently, causing you to lean forward, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You smiled and leaned in, your noses brushing against each other as the two of you breathed each other in deeply.

The air was filled with the scent of his cologne and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke mixing with the warmth of his body. "Oh really? How long have you wanted to?" you whispered, heart racing as he moved closer, resting his forehead against yours. His warmth seeped into you, making you shiver.

Slowly, Yoongi's lips brushed against yours teasingly before pressing firmly, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer. Your kiss was soft and gentle at first, a slow exploration of each other's mouths, tasting and teasing. The feeling of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, a low moan escaping your throat as you parted your lips slightly, inviting him in more. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you eagerly opened up for him, welcoming him in.

The taste of him was addictive, like fine wine and coffee, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on your tongue long after the kiss.

You ran your fingers up his neck and threaded your fingers through his messy hair.

You pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, your body melting into his as they molded together. Yoongi groaned into the kiss, his other hand finding its way to your waist and pulling you even tighter against him.

Your tongues danced together, twirling and dueling playfully, your mouths opening wider to allow for more exploration. His kiss was demanding now, and you gave in willingly, your body arching into him as he took control.

You kissed him back just as passionately, your tongue tangling with his, breaths heavy and labored. He gripped your hips tighter, grinding against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to kiss you deeply, your body trembling with anticipation.

You could feel his heart racing against your chest, the sound of his rapid breaths mingling with your own.

The heat between the two of you grew, along with your desire, and you felt yourself opening up to him more than ever before.

"Jump." He growled, his lips still brushing against yours.

With a small whimper, you obeyed, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as he stepped forward, nearly pinning you against the wall.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses along the way, making you shiver.

Your head fell back as he bit lightly on the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking gently. His hot breath fanned across your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms.

You sighed in contentment as Yoongi's warmth continued to envelop you, your heart racing in anticipation. In the nights you spent alone in your room, you had replayed this moment countless times in your head, imagining how it would feel to be in his arms, to feel the softness of his lips against yours. But the reality was far more intense than you ever could have imagined. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, every groan vibrating against your skin made you tremble with desire.

With a sudden surge of impatience, Yoongi dropped you to your feet, roughly ripping off his shirt, his muscles rippling beneath his skin in the process, revealing a chiseled torso that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him bare before you, his shoulders broad and strong, his arms corded with strength. You traced one of them with your fingertips, marveling at the definition of his biceps.

His abs were like etched stone, each dip and curve perfectly defined. As you trailed your fingers lower, you could feel his heart racing under your touch. He groaned softly, a deep rumble that vibrated through your body. You traced the trail of hair that led from his navel to his jeans, which were already unbuttoned and half-unzipped. You paused for a moment, looking up at him through hooded eyes. He growled low in his throat, a mix of irritation and desire, and you smiled before sliding your fingers inside his boxers to touch his hot skin.

He was warm and hard, pulsing beneath your fingertips. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiate off him like an open flame. He gasped softly as you began to stroke him, slowly at first, then faster when he closed his eyes and arched into your touch. The look of pure bliss on his face was enough to make your heart race. In response, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his neck, sucking softly on his flesh. His hands fisted in your hair, holding you close.

"F-fuck, Y/N...w-wait," he grabbed your wrist, halting your actions before burying his face into your neck.

Letting go of you, he sighed allowing his hands to roam down your back, over your hips, until he reached the hem of your hoodie. He pulled it up slowly, revealing your red lace bra beneath.

You gasped at the sudden change in temperature before he lowered his head to suck on your neck, nipping at your skin lightly.

Your heart raced as he undid the clasp, the cool air caressing your warm skin. The bra fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare for his view.

He merely glanced for a moment before drawing his eyes back up to yours, "You're so beautiful."

He trailed his fingers down your side, over the curve of your breast, and cupped it gently in his hand.

"Everything about you...I don't think I'll ever get enough."

Yoongi's breath hitched as you arched into his touch, your nipple hardening under his palm. His thumb circled around the bud, rolling it between his fingers. He dipped his head and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking softly as you moaned.

The feeling of his lips on your skin sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms. You felt hot and cold all at once, your knees weak.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his face as he looked up at you, his eyes hooded with lust.

Your gaze dropped to his hand, still massaging your breast even as he slipped it lower.

He used his free hand to hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them down slowly, his lips never leaving your skin.

You were left in just your underwear now, your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage.

He swallowed your moan as he finally pulled away, his hand sliding up your thigh. He cupped you through your lacy underwear, gasping at the heat that pooled between your legs.

His fingers danced over your drenched folds, teasing your clit as he peeled your panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them, your knees shaking ever so slightly. It was like being in a trance, every nerve ending alive and screaming for him.

He slipped his fingers out of your dripping center, holding them up to the light to emphasize the shine of your slick that glistened coated them.

"Taste yourself." He whispered,his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You obeyed, closing your eyes as you leaned forward to taste yourself on his fingers. The salty-sweet flavor was intoxicating, and you swirled your tongue around his digits, feeling him watching your every move.

He groaned, his eyes locked on your mouth, as you slowly licked his fingers clean. The air was thick with anticipation as he continued to watch you.

Grinning, he suddenly dropped down onto his knees before you, kneading his fingers into the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. His eyes never left your face as he positioned himself between your legs.

You could feel his breath on your sensitive skin, the heat of his body radiating towards you as he leaned in closer. His eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with hunger and desire. You felt your body tremble in anticipation, your breath hitched as you waited for what would come next.

"Yoongi what are you-- oh, fuck!"

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your hips jerking forward. It was barely a lick, but it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. He took his time, lapping at your folds, teasing and tasting, his fingers lightly brushing against your clit with each pass of his tongue. You moaned, throwing your head back and giving in to the pleasure.

"Yoongi..." you breathed, your voice hoarse. His name was a plea and a command all in one. He chuckled softly, the vibration sending waves of delight through you. With one hand still teasing your entrance, he used the other to spread your folds, exposing you to his hungry gaze. And then he dove in, tongue circling your entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves within. Your walls clenched around his tongue, begging for more.

"Please," you whimpered, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He hummed in agreement, pushing deeper, his nose brushing against your entrance as he lapped at it. You squirmed underneath him, your hips bucking against his face as you tried to get closer.

The taste of you, sweet and tangy and salty, filled his mouth. He lapped at you greedily, groaning around your folds as he tried to get as much of you as he could. Your moans and gasps echoed in the room, mingling with lewd sounds Yoongi was making as he lapped at your core.

With one hand still gripping his hair, you arched your back and cried out as he continued to lick and suck on your sensitive spots. Your hips rocked wildly, grinding against his face as he drove you closer and closer to orgasm.

His growls and moans were music to your ears, fueling your desire and making your heart race. You could feel the heat building deep within you, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you reached your peak.

Yoongi is relentless, his tongue never slowing down as he continued to pleasure you. You threw your head back, your eyes screwed shut as you prepared for the moment of pure bliss.

"Yoongi, fuck I-I'm so close." you whimpered, begging for release from the pleasure building inside of you.

He chuckled slightly against your folds, loving the way you squirmed beneath him. With one hand, he spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. His mouth closed around your clit as he lapped up every drop of your arousal.

As he worked you up into a frenzy, you begged him not to stop, pleading for release, your hips bucking wildly against his mouth.

Yoongi loved the raw hunger in your voice, the way you trembled and squirmed under his expert ministrations.

His talented tongue was working wonders on you, and you began to feel familiar knot begin to build in the pit of your stomach.

You were close, so close.

"Yoongi, I-I'm gonna-- shit!"

And when you came, it was everything he'd hoped for—a scream torn from your throat as you shook and spasmed beneath him, your wet heat coating his face. Your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to feast on your cunt, drinking in every last drop of your sweet nectar.

Finally satiated, he lifted his head, dragging his tongue over her swollen nub lazily and you flinched from over stimulation before making his way back up to meet your eyes, holding you close to keep you from falling off balance, "You taste so good."

You smiled, cupping his cheeks in your hands, "Take me to your bedroom."

Nodding, he gently lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he carried you towards the bedroom. His eyes remained locked with yours, brimming with longing and urgency. The sensation of your body against his, the touch of your velvety skin, and the warmth of your breath on his neck overwhelmed him, stirring a powerful desire within him.

"I want you so bad," he whispered, his voice ragged.

You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you, "I want you too," you breathed, your heart pounding against his chest in time with his own, "more than anything."

Yoongi stumbles through the hallway, holding onto you firmly but not too tightly, his steps becoming more and more certain as he gets closer to his bedroom. He kicks the door open with his foot, almost losing his balance but managing to regain it just in time.

The room is dimly lit, with only a small desk lamp on, casting shadows across the walls and the floor. He slowly lowers himself onto the bed, cradling you in his arms as you lay your head on his chest.

To him, you hair smells like vanilla and you feel soft against his rough skin. His heart beats fast in anticipation as he looks down at you, taking in the way your eyes flutter closed and your breathing deepens as you lean into him. "Yoongi..." you whisper before trailing off, your voice barely audible even to herself.

With a sudden burst of energy, he pulls you closer, rolling so that you're on top of him and he's beneath you, your exposed cunt pressing roughly against his clothed cock.

Your hips grind together, and he groans at the feeling.

His hands trail up your sides, tracing the outline of your ribs before cupping your breasts. You gasp, your nipples hardening beneath his touch. He dips his head to capture one in his mouth, sucking gently as he groans against your skin. It tastes sweet and salty and intoxicating.

You look at him, a wry smile etched into your features as you press a chaste kiss to his lips, "Let me make you feel good,"

You slide off his waste slowly before kissing your way down his chest, tracing your fingers along his abs, along the thin trail of hair that leads from his lower abdomen to the waistband of his pants before finally reaching for the obvious tenting in his pants, palming him through his jeans.

He groans slightly, his breath hitched as your fingers brush against the evidence of his arousal. You smile without looking up, knowing the effect you're having on him.

Without any further hesitation, you unbuckled the belt of Yoongi's jeans and slid them down, his length straining painfully against his boxers.

With a smirk, you teased Yoongi by running your fingers over his underwear-clad dick through the fabric, feeling it twitch and throb.

Yoongi let out a low groan as he felt your soft hands stroking him through his boxers.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled his cock out, freeing it from its confines. Your eyes widened as you looked down at the jutting length of his dick in your hands. It was thick and veiny, standing tall against your palms.

You ran your thumb over the head, gathering the precum that had formed there before leaning down and wrapping your mouth around the tip, forcing a strained moan out of Yoongi as he quickly threaded his fingers through your hair.

"H-holy shit, Y/N, that feels so-- fuck."

The taste of Yoongi instantly filled your senses as you explored him with your tongue, circling the head and teasing his slit. The hand on your head gently began guiding you as you started to take more of him into your mouth.

Each bob of your head made a wet, sloppy noise as you sucked him off, taking more and more of him each time.

You could taste the pre-cum on the tip, and you couldn't wait to swallow it all down. As your mouth sank further down onto his cock, you let your lips brush against Yoongi's shaft and listened to the slapping noise as your wet mouth engulfed him.

You could feel the vein pulsing on top, and the smell of his arousal filled your nostrils.

You looked up at him, eyes meeting Yoongi's, and he thought about how damn attractive you looked with your cheeks hollowed out and lips red from around his dick.

With a soft moan, you leaned forward and swallowed him down, taking him to the base of his throat. You slowly started moving up and down, taking him in and out of your mouth, licking and sucking at the same time.

You could feel his hands gripping into your scalp, holding him tightly as you deepthroated him. The room fell silent, only the sounds of your tongue lapping at his cock and the wet, sucking noises could be heard.

Before you could take him deeper and swallow around him again, he grabbed your hair, roughly pulling you off of his dick.

You looked at him, confused, waiting for him to speak his mind.

"Not yet," he panted, his eyes wild and focused on your lips. "I need to be inside you."

He stood up, and you could see the strain in his muscles as he struggled to control himself.

"What are you waiting for, Yoongi?" you teased, your eyes never leaving his.

He let out a shaky breath, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. With trembling hands, he leaned down, fully removing his jeans.

Yoongi's breath hitched in his throat as he took a step closer to you, positioning himself between your legs.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he bent down, his eyes locked onto your own, filled with lust.

Your heart raced as he gently pulled your hips off the bed, lifting you up and guiding you towards the edge.

His hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your wetness as he slowly began to press inside you.

You gasped as he entered you, feeling him stretch you open.

His eyes locked onto yours, his breath hitched as you clenched around him, pulling him in deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice ragged with desire.

Slowly, he began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours as he thrust inside you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as your eyes met his, lost in the intensity of the moment.

With each thrust, you both let out soft moans, the sounds mingling with the wet slap of skin against skin. It felt like a million different sensations all at once - the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the friction of his dick sliding in and out of you, the pulsing veins of his cock, and the way his lips brushed against yours as he kissed you.

Your hips began to meet his thrusts, rising up to meet him as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours. It was as if he was searching for something in the depths of your soul, and you were right there with him, searching for the same thing.

"Y-Yoongi, please," You whimpered, silently begging him to move faster.

Suddenly, as if a light switch went off he gritted his teeth and growled, beginning to thrust roughly into you, filling you with each and every inch of his length.

You moaned loudly beneath him, nails digging into his back as he took you like he owned you, his hips slapping against yours in a primal rhythm that echoed in the small room.

“F-fuck, Yoongi!” You mewl, arching your back.

His breathing was ragged as he looked down at you, his gaze dark and intense. “That’s right baby girl, take my cock. Take it all.” He pulled out slightly before slamming back in, feeling yours walls clench around him, loving the sensation.

He could feel the intensity building inside of him, the need to release slowly beginning to build inside of him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough and demanding. "You feel so good." He slid one of his hands between your bodies, teasing your clit as he continued to pound into you.

"O-oh my god, Yoongi, I-I'm so close..."

He loved hearing you moan his name. It fueled his desire, made him lose control even more.

He grabbed your hair with his free hand and pulled your head back, exposing your neck to him, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down your shoulder and collarbone as you moved together.

"Yoongi, please," you pleaded, your voice quivering.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper. The way he touched you, possessed you, owned you...it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

His rough hands on your skin made you shiver, and you could feel the heat between the two of you growing more intense with every passing second.

His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting your G-spot just right, and you cried out, your body shaking. "Yes," you moaned, your whole body tingling. "Right there. Oh fuck, right there!" You arched your back, meeting his movements, your nails digging into his skin as you felt a familiar coil began form inside of you.

"F-fuck, Yoongi, I'm so close, please!"

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?"

You could no longer form any words, simply responding with a strained moan.

"Beg for it."

Your eyes locked with his, pleading for the release you both craved. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. "I need you to make me cum, Yoongi, Please!"

Yoongi's face was a mix of pleasure and dominance as he watched you lose control. He thrust faster, harder, swallowing your moans among his own as they filled the room.

"Good girl," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours.

At the sound of those words, something within you snapped. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything in your life.

The air was thick with the scent of sex and desire as you both surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

You suddenly felt the pressure building, the heat between you two intensifying. Your body began to shake uncontrollably as you felt the orgasm you had been craving for so long finally taking over.

"Oh fuck, Yoongi, I'm-- shit!" you screamed, your voice echoing through the room.

Yoongi watched, his eyes filled with satisfaction, as you exploded around his cock. Your nails dug deeper into his skin, and he felt you tighten around him like a vice.

Feeling your walls clenching around his cock, it sent him over the edge as well. He moaned your name as he came inside you, his body shaking violently as he emptied himself inside you.

Your bodies kept moving, pulsing together as the wave of orgasm continued to wash over you both.

As the intensity subsides, Yoongi's weakened legs give way and he collapses against you, his chest pressed against yours, both of you breathless and covered in perspiration, utterly spent.

Gradually, as your breathing steadies, you attempt to shift and free yourself from underneath him. However, Yoongi swiftly wraps an arm around your waist, refusing to let you go, holding you close against him as he turns you both so that you're facing each other on your sides.

Yoongi's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of lust, love, and something deeper - a connection that went beyond the physical. His fingers gently traced the curves of your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

You could feel the heat and energy from his body pulsating through you, and the aftershocks of your orgasm still reverberating within you. The intensity of the moment had left you both breathless, and yet there was a sense of peace that enveloped you as you lay there, entwined with one another.

Without saying a word, Yoongi tenderly lifted your chin, his eyes locking onto yours, and he spoke into the silence, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Yoongi."

#bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #imagine #yoongi #suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi icons #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #bts yoongi #jungkook bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook icons #kpop smut #kpop #kpopidol #kpop aesthetic #one shot #fluff #slow burn

[two-white-butterflies]

monopoly go | mv33 | part two

Description: A stranger keeps striking your monopoly go base. You search him on Facebook and decide to settle your losses.

part one |

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yourname_awesome: might need myself a london boy 🇬🇧

liked by 23,283 others

>comments

maxverstappen1: pretty

maxverstappen1: the background is so pretty - yourname_awesome: list of all the poeple that asked. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. - - maxverstappen1: talk to me when you can spell people properly - - - yourname_awesome: talk to me when you can spell noodle properly 🥱

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EMILLIAN ATTACKED YOUR LANDMARK.

EMILLIAN STOLE 20M IN A MEGAHEIST.

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yourname_awesome: decided to square up with this 🤬 after he attacked my landmark. what's thatp icture? oh, that's meant for lewis hamilton...he just wrote his name on the top.

liked by danielricciardo and 67,392 others

>comments

maxverstappen1: ??? Post my pics when you can spell properly - yourname_awesome: comment on my posts when u aren't stealing from my base anymore - - maxverstappen1: Won't be commenting for the foreseeable future - - - yourname_awesome: Simply Lovely!

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humpyfumpy: SOMETHING IS SUSPICIOUS BETWEEN MAX AND THE GIRL HE'S BEEFING WITH....I CAN FEEL SOMETHING BREWING

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Y/N ATTACKED YOUR LANDMARK.

Y/N STOLE 5M IN A HEIST.

Y/N STOLE 72M IN A HEIST.

YOU PAID Y/N RENT.

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INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1 STOP

yourname_awesome my reaction

maxverstappen1 reacted to this message. (❤️)

yourname_awesome ???? THAT'S SUSPICIOUS

maxverstappen1 MY reaction

yourname_awesome who is that girl ur with?

maxverstappen1 Idk i found this picture in the internet

yourname_awesome nah bro go back to ur other hoes

maxverstappen1 No

yourname_awesome 🤣

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Stolen glances from crowded rooms - that's all you were. You couldn't understand your dynamic with him, in texts the chemistry was there but in real life? He's awkward, rarely even speaks to you. "Do you think that he's a little tongue tied?" your best friend asked and you tilted your head sideways.

"What?" you inquired and she shrugs. "Men are shy when it comes to girls that they like." "Are you suggesting that he has a crush on me?" you furrowed your eyebrows and she nods. You scoff, "He's not a teenager," you chuckled.

She rolls her eyes.

"It's just a suggestion," she antagonized.

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"I've never seen a picture of you two together," Daniel takes a sip of his beer. Max glances at you again - eyes filled with adoration but no words exit his mouth. "Don't expose him, Daniel." Lando winks - Max freezes and they all exchange a knowing glance.

You lean back on the chair.

"Why would we need a picture together?" you giggled, placing a piece of apricot on your tongue. "Because you're friends," Lando saved his friend. Max was shitting bricks at this point. "Acquaintances, we've only known each other for a week." Max managed to let out.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You're hurting me with your words," you joked and he replies with a smile. "My bad," he breathed and his friends push him off the chair. "You can make it up to me by letting the boys take a picture of us," you smiled - seriously into him.

Not just because he was a Formula One Driver (it was a factor) but also because of his humor. He was hilarious... and handsome. "Cheese Maxie," Daniel says while pulling out his mobile phone.

The hug was basically second-nature.

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danielricciardo: Too cute not to post? @maxverstappen1 @yourname_awesome

liked by 1,283,219 others

>comments

standingina1950sgym: THE HARDEST HARD LAUNCH OF ALL

yourname_awesome: NAWW NOT YOU EXPOSING MY TATTOO

maxxieeelover: The matching shirts?? - yourname_awesome: pure coincidence huhu 😭

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@sugarhightano @lovelylunas-world @ironmaiden1313 @duck-duck-goose-18 @itsjustkhaos @daniellarogers @darleneslane @lilbeyotch1d

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #redbul racing #formula one imagines #max verstappen x you #formula one fanfics #max verstappen fanfic #m33

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Tiny Match-maker

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff

Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.

Just a meet-cute scenario with Bucky, that I might just write a part 2 for if people are interested in it.

Word count:1,853.

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It wasn’t often that Bucky found time for himself. Between the busy and at times chaotic line of work he found himself in, it didn’t leave a lot of time to do the things that the average person could do.

Doctor Raynor suggested that taking a step back from the heroic, android, alien, wizard-crime-fighting lifestyle might be just the thing that he needed. To take some time to do the things that the everyday person took for granted.

So that’s why Bucky found himself for the first time in a long while browsing the aisles of his local grocery store, standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, pondering if there’s any real difference between getting oat milk or almond milk. 

He’s brought out of his thinking when he feels something collide with his shins. Something, or rather someone. A young girl, she couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four years old. Her hair that is tied up into two bunches on either side of her head bounce slightly as she crashes into him.

He looks around himself, apart from him and this little girl, the aisle was otherwise empty. 

What was he supposed to do? He’d rescued thousands of civilians time and time again, but this little girl was just standing there, wide-eyed and innocently looking up at him.

“Hi! My name’s Lottie!” the little girl introduces herself with a big gap-toothed smile.

Bucky crouches down ever so slightly to meet her smaller stature. 

“Hi there, Where are your parents, huh? Are you lost?” he asks, keeping his voice soft when talking to her.

 Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a woman came running down the aisle, slightly out of breath and with a look of panic on her face.

As she gets closer, Bucky takes in her appearance, she's pretty. Really pretty. The kind of effortless beauty that has a faint blush rising to his cheeks. 

“Charlotte!” the woman calls out as she comes closer to the little girl before scooping her up in her arms and hoisting her on her hip. “What have I told you about running off like that?” you gently scold her, although the scolding is more out of your own worries about your little girl.

“Sorry mommy.” she murmurs quietly as she tucks her head into your shirt.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I hope she didn’t bother you too much.” you smile apologetically at the man in front of you. He was tall, broad and far too handsome for his own good. With soft dark brown hair that fell along his jaw, pretty pink lips, the most beautiful stormy grey-blue eyes, and just the right amount of stubble grazing across his angled jaw to have you blushing as he looked your way. 

“Oh, hey, no harm done, she seems like a sweet kid.” he smiles, his voice is deep and rich, with a slight raspy gravel.

“Yeah, she is, although it would help if she wasn’t so much of an explorer, it’d be a lot easier to keep my eye on her otherwise.” you laugh.

“No, the world needs more explorers I say!” the handsome stranger joins in with a friendly chuckle of his own. 

“Well, I can see you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer..” you string out the end of your sentence, when you realise that you don’t actually know your new friend’s name.

“James. My name’s James.” he says, gesturing to himself. You tell him your name in return with a friendly smile.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, James.” You smile before turning back down the aisle. 

Bucky watched as you walked away from him, and he couldn't  help but hope that he might run into you again.

“Look, all you gotta do is go down there, tell a few old man war stories, answer some questions, maybe have your picture taken a few times and that’s it” Sam explained.

Sam had signed Bucky up to tell a few stories to the kids at the school downtown. A few about his life back in the day, and his life now. Sam thought it might be good for his public image.

“Just because you’re Captain America now, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

“When Steve gave me the shield, he did warn me it came with the custody of one grumpy super-soldier.” Sam laughed a wide, gap-toothed smile at his friend.

“..And that’s why you don’t let your best friend sign-up to be a government ordered science experiment.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his talk with the assembled group of young students in the small, but colourful classroom.

“Wonderful, and does anybody have any questions for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher asked, as she stepped out beside Bucky.

“How did you lose your arm?” a young boy blurts out, quickly raising his hand.

“Timothy!” The teacher is quick to gently scold the young boy, but Bucky quickly steps in before she can make her point.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind answering this question.” He assures the teacher, before turning to the young boy. “I-uh-I kind of lost it when I came up against a bunch of bad-guys, who weren’t very nice at all.” Bucky thinks carefully about how he was going to word his answer, especially for this 5-year old kid. “..But it’s all good now, because I’ve got the super-strong metal one.” he shows off by rolling up the sleeve of his deep-red henley shirt.

“Are you and The Falcon really friends?” another young boy asks from where he’s sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of Bucky.

“Well, we’re team-mates, so I guess I’d call him a friend, but really he only hangs out with me because I make him look cool.” Bucky jokes with ease.

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes.” A tiny hand shoots up amongst the group. 

Bucky looks out and there sat at the back of the class is the little girl who ran into him at the grocery store at the weekend. Her bouncy curls tied up in two bunches on either side of her head.

“Yes, Lottie, you have a question for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts. 

“Are you single? I think my mommy would really like you.” She smiles in that innocent way that children do, unaware of the slightly impertinent question she was asking.

Bucky flushes scarlet all over, a blooming heat settling over his features. 

With a laugh and a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, he gathered himself together enough to answer the young girl.

“I am, and I’m sure your mommy is a wonderful lady, but I think it's best that we don't talk about her private life when she's not here.” Bucky stutters out, chosing his words very carefully. 

The school bell suddenly rings into life, signifying the end of the day, and the children are all quick to get up from the carpet and make their way towards their coats and bags that are stowed away in their cubby holes.

“Ah ah, kids! What do we say to Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts

“Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The children say harmoniously. 

Bucky shrugs on his dark leather jacket as he makes his way out of the school, watching as all of the kids rush off to find their parents.

He was just about to head off to the school’s parking lot, where he’d parked his motorbike, when he sees the same girl from the classroom, the very same one who had bumped into him at the grocery store, this time her tiny hand tugging her mother across the playground and straight towards him.

“Mommy! This is the man who came into class today to tell us stories!” Lottie bubbled excitedly. 

You stepped closer to Bucky and he swears that you got even more beautiful than when he last saw you for that fleeting moment. 

As you get close enough to him to fully see his face you are met with the piercing blue eyes of the familiar stranger who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket.

“Mommy! This is Mr. Sergeant Barnes! He told us all about working with his friend Captain America!” Lottie blurts out.

You had recognised him from the moment you saw him in the store, but out of courtesy to not embarrass him, you pretended that you didn't know about his life as an avenging super-soldier. 

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes?” Your voice raises in a teased question.

“Just James is fine, Ma’am.” Bucky clarifies, extending a warm hand out in a friendly greeting.

In return you shake his hand and tell him your name.

“So, it seems that we’re meeting again, James” You smile

“Hah, yeah.” He smiles back fondly with a warm chuckle.

“So you’re the one who’s been telling my daughter all these fantastical stories?” you pose, eyebrow arched.

“Just something I do as a way of working with the local community. Helping young kids to learn about their history from first-hand accounts.” he explains.

“Well, that's a very sweet thing to do.” you smile. 

“Mommy.” Lottie whispers as she tugs at the sleeve of your jacket. “He said he was single too!” 

“Sorry about her, she likes to play match-maker.” you apologise, hoping that things hadn’t taken a turn for the awkward. 

“It’s okay.” he laughs it off. “She’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah it’s just been me and her from the start, it’s been tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh? Well she seems like a wonderful young girl, and that’s only testament to having you as her mother.” he says with an earnest smile tugging at his pink lips.

“Come on now, Lottie, let’s head home, and let Mr. Sergeant Barnes get back to his life.” you say to your daughter as you begin to make your way out of the school’s playground.

“Wait!” He jogs across the school years to catch up with you before you can leave. “and you can absolutely tell me if I'm just reading this whole situation all wrong, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least ask you if you perhaps fancied meeting up and getting coffee..at least meeting on purpose this time.” he blushes adorably.

“You know what, I'd like that actually.” You nod. “Let me give you my number and you can text me whenever you're free and we can set something up.”

He hands you over his phone and you enter your number in and text yourself so you have his number on your phone too.

“Here you go,” you say as you hand him over his phone. “It was nice seeing you again, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?” 

“My friends call me Bucky.” 

“Well, Bucky, I hope to see you again, sooner rather than later.”

“You can count on it.” He grins back with a cheeky wink.

Bucky walks back to his apartment with a confident stride, he'd have to thank Sam for signing him up for this gig, that's for sure. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @impmunson

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[luveline]

Hi Jade!! 💛💛 Omg obsessed with soulmate prince Steve au 🥰. Every au you write is perfection Can I request a scenario in which prince Steve actually witnesses someone say something to her about how she’s not good enough for the prince and how he’d react to that/ reassure her?

prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.2k

Your palatial bedroom is a gem to the eye. You've a huge window from which gauzy orange light seeps, the golden hour of your twentieth day coming to an end. Soon, night will be upon you, and with the night comes Prince Steven. Or, as he prefers, Steve.  

He spends the days battling his overbearing mother and her team of 'professional shitheads' as the wedding fast approaches, advocating for you where you can't. You may be his soul mate, but your lack of royal blood means you've no choice in any of their plans. You hadn't been allowed to choose your dress, your vows, or even your jewellery. 

Well, originally. "It's your wedding," Steve had said, giving your hand a reassuring hold, "not just mine, and definitely not theirs. You'll be allowed to wear, and say, and do whatever you want. I'm lucky you agreed to marry me at all." 

You don't regret agreeing to marry him, but it wasn't what you pictured. He didn't propose, and you aren't in love. Your soul marks assure you that one day you will be. The volume of their light and how restless they become around the other evidences a mutual attraction if nothing else, and the rosy hue they take when you touch spares nothing. 

A mutual crush doesn't normally mean you'd marry someone, though. But it isn't exactly unheard of in your culture either. Soul mates are soul mates —it's on the tin. 

Why wait to get married when you know you'll fall in love for life? 

Maybe because that love is extremely daunting, a little voice says at the back of your head. Because Steve is still a stranger. 

An acquaintance might be more accurate. If he continues to be so dramatically nice you might skip friendship altogether, your stomach a heat at the memory of his hand on your chin and the subtle warmth of his gaze as he laid your doubts to rest. You worried to him that you couldn't be a Princess, and while he hadn't shared the sentiment, others do. 

You leave the haven of your room in hopes of a glass of juice and a tonic for your headache (all you've done for days is grind your teeth), and become turned around looking for the kitchens 

"She is so boringly normal. I thought the Prince would have a special soul mate, is that stupid? I thought she'd be gorgeous, or smart, or talented at something, like piano." The servant hits her racket against the rug with a laugh. "She's just one of us. Lucky bitch." 

Which isn't the worst of it. Not truly offensive. You're nothing special, and if you didn't know it already, finding your soulmate cemented it. 

This bit hurts, though. "She's surprisingly ugly, I thought," says the other servant. "Imagine when they project their engagement photos in the central city. That is not a face you want to see in sixteen k." 

Your head bumps into the alcove wall with surprise as a throat clears. The servants look up in tandem, to your horror, seeing you standing in the shade like a creeper, but they see straight past you. You follow their gaze. 

"That's not fair or appropriate, is it?" Steve asks, in his strange princely tone. "The future princess is just as beautiful as you ladies, but she has a much nicer attitude, yeah?" 

Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and walks you away. You feel like you're in trouble, being marched by the class warden to the principal's office.

He stops you in the cool stone walkway that leads from the garden. You can smell the kitchen you'd been looking for, the buttery smell of capers and brewing edelweiss tea on the breeze. The night dawns, sconces with teal and lime light painting his skin baby blue. 

"Sorry I didn't sanction them. I think that the anxiety that I'm gonna tell on them does more than the actual–" Steve stops short. "Hey, are you crying?" 

You're not crying, but you may be a little sniffly. You turn your head away from him and he pulls it right back, his lips parted in shock. 

"You don't believe them," he says incredulously.

The stress in your life these last few weeks has been akin to a tightrope walker, and the insults (the embarrassment, knowing he heard) are a strong wobble. 

"Sorry," you say, your lips barely parted. You try to look away from him but his hand is steadfast on your cheek. 

It's so odd to be treated with tenderness by someone you don't really know. His soul mark burns a muted pinky-red at the pulse of his wrist. It's genuine affection, even if you feel like you don't deserve it. 

"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I should go back and have them do domestic duties for the week."

"No, I'm being stupid. They don't have to think I'm pretty–" 

"Well, they should, but that's not really what happened… Why are you down here? I was looking for you." 

"You were?" you ask. 

"I usually am. I tried to get out of fencing but they wouldn't let me leave," he explains, his hand moving up your face in little grabs, almost as though he's checking you over for injury. Eyes held, Steve smiles at you encouragingly. "Why were you down here?" 

"To get something to drink," you say. 

"And you didn't want to ask one of the ten people waiting desperately for you to need something?" he asks with a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. The phantom of it remains, heat in the shape of his fingers pressed into your cheek.

"It feels weird." 

"You can call for me instead and I could get you a drink. Just until you know where the kitchen is. Or I can make you a map." 

"A map," you say, biting back a smile. 

"Is that funny?" 

"No…" 

Steve curls a hand behind your shoulder. "We're not gonna get along," he says, his tone suggesting wildly otherwise. "I can tell. Let's get you that drink, okay?" 

"Okay. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional on you." 

"'In good times and bad,'" he says. Your heart doesn't leap, it springs from your chest. He's a prince, and he's beautiful, and now he's throwing wedding vows at you like it's nothing? 

You smile at your shoes all the way to the kitchens, where Steve ushers you in front of him to go first, and says in your ear, "For the record, I'm personally super excited to see you on the holo screens, but I don't think it's gonna compare to the real thing." He directs you by the waist gently, a twin of the way he'd held you in your engagement photos. Deft hand nestled against the fat of your hip, blue silk of your ceremonial kissing your thighs. You'd felt really pretty, if only because he touched you without hesitation. "You are the farthest thing from ugly I've ever seen." 

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[acciocriativity]

-> | You're on the quieter side | Ateez Reaction (Maknae Line)

Context: For all of these reactions, the scenario is the same. They're hanging out as a friend group (OT8 + reader), talking about life and getting to know each other more, since reader is new around all of them as a group.

Genre: fluff

Warnings/tags: mentions of eating and drinking alcohol; mentions of shyness; chaotic and loud Ateez

N/a: First of all, I'm so sorry for how late this is, I'm on my finals so I'm slower as it gets rn.

Second of all, my requests are open!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank you for reading my work (^o^)

Ateez Masterlist

Hyung Line version

Choi San (최산): he'd listen to your EVERY word

Everyone knew you, you were Seonghwa's friend, and sometimes you picked him up at the dorms to hang out, since he can't drive for shit. But that night was the first time you would have dinner with them, and Seonghwa did the most to give you a good impression of his friends.

And it did work, ok? It worked for some time, until they felt comfortable enough with you to let loose, which didn't take long with alcohol involved.

But the thing about San and alcohol is that he is a lightweight, there's no sugarcoating that, and everyone knows it, one shot and he's drunk already.

He didn't even realized it he was staring at you with the biggest and most attentive shining eyes, with red cheeks and a soft smile, and honestly? It was too funny for them to stop him, instead the boys were betting on how long I'll take him to fall off his chair, since he was leaning so much to the right to see you better.

Sometimes your tone was so soft that he couldn't hear what you said, since the talking wouldn't stop. So he would wait for your eyes to meet his, and he would whisper to you: "What?", while he tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly.

And if you tried to brush it off, because it wasn't that important, he would have the biggest pout, and would keep pestering you. So in the end, you'll both have your whispered drunk conversation apart from everyone else.

It was hard not to take one or two photos of you two, Seonghwa had to find the strength within him, because it was just sooo adorable. You better be prepared to be teased relentlessly tomorrow though, he wasn't that nice.

Song Mingi (송민기): he'd treat you like an old friend

What to say about Song Mingi? Even though he can be shy around strangers, or in this case, acquaintances like you, he doesn't care enough NOT to be himself, specially when he has his friends, and some drinks around.

So there you are, thinking you'll be chilling in San's dorm for a while, drink a bit, and then go home to your night routine and 7-hour-sleep, since it's usually like that when you are only with San. But, oh you were mistaken...

If they were a chaotic group, then Mingi was the chaos himself, and he didn't have to try at all. It reached a point, where you were asking yourself why haven't you got close to him before? Oh, right. You were too shy to do that, so much so, that San adopted you as his designed introverted friend, being introverted himself. That's how you ended up where you were in the first place.

But Mingi was the opposite of that. He was loud and a tiny bit crazy, it was like there wasn't a single drop of shame in his body. You really wished to be like that someday, he got your respect really fast that night.

And although you didn't speak up much, he noticed how you were laughing along with everyone, but instead of laughing at him for his silliness like the boys were, you were laughing with him, almost tearing up as the hours went by, and that's something he truly appreciates, someone with the same sense of humor as him.

That's it, that was the moment he decided he was going to adopt you as his friend too. You didn't even noticed the moment he sat beside you on the big couch, right after leaving the kitchen with a new bottle of soju. You were distracted listening to the tea Wooyoung was spilling to everyone.

"I bet they were lying that day, and were together behind his back", he commented by your side.

You gasped, since that though didn't even crossed your mind. He laughed at your wide shocked eyes.

"There's no way, she seemes to like him so much..."

By the end of the night, the two of you were gossipping like no other. Your friendship by the end of the night seemed so natural, like it was meant to be, and guess who was pouty walking you home? Yeah, Choi San. You had to remind him he was THE best friend in your eyes.

Jeong Wooyoung (정우영): he'd make everyone listen to you

Oh, this one is a mouthy one, and he's not afraid for his life.

You were already familiar with Wooyoung, since Yeosang was an old friend of yours, so of course you met here and there, although not enough for you to outright talk to him without Yeosang. Why? Besides the fact that you were shy, Yeosang had this same phrase, almost a saying at this point, for when some of them asked to hang out with both of you.

"I have to keep her from getting her innocence destroyed by you guys, you're not a good influence", he told you what he said to San two weeks ago.

Of course, he left out the part where San called him out, since he wasn't that innocent at all for starters, but does it even matter now? They got what they wanted. You came to their dorms for a movie night.

"You, keep... all of this in control today", Yeosang emphasized the "all of this" as he gestured towards San's whole body.

"Or what?", it was San's immediate reaction as he smirked up to Yeosang.

Yeosang could only give him a death glare.

San planned to be on his best behavior already, since he already knew you were smiliar to Yeosang, but it was just SO good to tease him, he couldn't stop himself.

"Or I'll bite your arms off", Wooyoung suddenly said as he sat down on the couch by San's side.

And to further prove his point, he leaned in San's right arms and threatened to bite it.

"OK, ok, stop it", San said, while shoving Wooyoung away from him.

It ended there, and no one took note of Wooyoung's protectiveness towards you at first. It's hard to tell if he just wanted a reason to be annoying or if was genuine, you know? But it got clear as the night went on, he was like your bodyguard.

If you said anything, and for some reason they didn't hear it, since they wouldn't just ignore you, he would just...

"YAH, they were speaking", he yelled looking at Mingi, who stopped munching his pizza with wide eyes.

The first time it happened, you were caught off guard, trying to brush it off what you said yourself. But did he let you? Please, of course not.

"What were you saying?", he'd ask with such a gentle voice towards you, a little smile in the corner of his mouth, while he looked you in the eyes.

It was... different to say the least.

The more that happened, the more it became a joke whitin the group.

By the end of the night, you saved his number as "the bodyguard" on your phone, but he whined so much that you added a little white heart by the side of it, and he was pretty proud of himself.

Choi Jongho (최종호): he'd look out for you quietly (or so he thinks)

If anyone asked you what is your opinion about Jongho, you would probably lie, and say you don't know him much to have an opinion. You thought he was so cool, and so fucking intimidating, and you couldn't even tell why, but you couldn't hold his stare.

It wasn't like he was scary, none of them were, there was more chance of you being the scary one, truly. But he had that energy around him, he was just calm, collected, but also fun, knew how to entertain in a way that seemed so natural? At the same time, he didn't go out of his way to speak or anything, he chose when he wanted to say or do something. Maybe that was intimidating to you, he was self-assured. And oh God, how you wished to be more like that.

You tried to be discreet as you observed him, and the rest of the boys chaotic conversation. He was just as quiet as you at that moment, also highly entertained, with his arms crossed close to his chest.

He thought you didn't really like him or something. You were a bit hard to read, and he didn't want to make things even more uncomfortable by talking about it to you, but he really didn't get why you didn't like him, since you barely talked to each other alone.

He looked your way for a moment, as you were laughing at Hongjoong glaring at Wooyoung, while playing uno. Both you and him were out this round, so everyone could play. He chucked as Hongjoong picked up more 4 cards, he already had 10 at this point.

"Someone's gonna be dead by the end of this round, I feel it", he heard you whisper to Seonghwa, who was playing right in front of you.

He watched as Seonghwa laughed quietly, and nodded, while showing you his cards. He had a proud grin on his face, he had some good cards, and he was right beside Hongjoong.

He wanted to talk to you like that, in a free and friendly manner, but he can't make himself do it. What if you don't like him even more after it? Should he just ask you what's up? No, not in front of ev-

Jongho's mind stopped working for a second. Now, you were eyeing one of the drinks on the table, right beside him. So what does he do? He hands you one of them, of course, and takes one for himself.

It seemed like nothing to everyone, including for you, but for Jongho it was the solution.

For the rest of the night, whenever you said you want something? Jongho's got it for you. You ask for someone to grab the bottle of water for you? It's Jongho. You say you're gonna grab more snacks? He's on it. Do you suggest a movie? He's the first one to vote for it. And of course, he makes it like it's no big deal, he's being himself, but you noticed his efforts.

By the end of the night, you felt bad for the way you kind of ignored him before, so you sent him a text message after you left, baby steps, ok? Baby steps. But you apolagize, thank him, and after that you can only hope to be closer to him for now on.

#ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez reactions #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #jongho x reader #ateez masterlist #wooyoung fluff #san fluff #mingi fluff #jongho fluff

[sublimitymp3]

for yandere aemond, aegon, daemon and criston, maybe how do they deal with their love having a lover they are not willing to give up even after marriage? Thank you very much for time you are amazing👀❤

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Aemond fell in love with you instantly when you two met. He never particularly liked the idea of being wedded to someone he did not know, but once he saw your sweet face, his worries drifted away. However, he had noticed your reluctance and apprehension to be around him. He thought nothing of it, chalking it up to you having the same opinions of arranged marriages as he once did. Aemond was sure that by the time you two were wed, you'd warm up to him

He was extremely wrong.

You were never cruel or particularly cold to him, you just never gave him any affection or attention as he would. You would dodge his kisses, wipe the ones he did leave on your cheek off, and you treated him more like an acquaintance rather than a husband. He had noticed you would receive letters from time to time, keeping them close to you and being overtly protective of them, and how flustered you'd look after reading them. This only served to make him even more curious about their apparent special contents. One night, Aemond would find the little box where you had stashed the letters. Curiosity got the better of him, and he began reading the various pieces of parchment. A silent rage began to fill him as he discovered they were love letters, exchanged with someone from the Riverlands, your birthplace. He would burn each letter that night, hatching plans to separate you from this secret lover. He'd intercept each and every letter your lover would send to you, reading them with annoyance before burning them in the fireplace. He could see the emotional toll it was taking on you. Your lover had abruptly ceased their communications with you, with no explanation. You wondered if they had grown tired of you, or if they were incapacitated. You were growing sad, and Aemond was always there, though you tried your best to brush him off in hopes another letter would come for you. Eventually, when three months had passed and no new letter was sent, you'd come crying to Aemond, and he'd welcome you with open arms.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Aegon adored you. You were everything he was not, dutiful, kind, and cheerful. He admired you, and he genuinely felt so much love for you, despite you not knowing each other for long. While you were always friendly towards your new husband, you never were quite affectionate with him. He would try to win you over, stealing kisses from you and spoiling you with lavish gifts. He tried for months it seems to charm you, but to no avail. It was clear you had no romantic interest in Aegon, and he found himself slipping into old habits.

It was a brisk night, the cold breeze causing most people to wear heavy cloaks made of wool. Aegon was drunk in some alehouse, drowning his sorrows in his cups. In his peripheral vision, he could've sworn he saw you, huddled in the corner with a large cloak draped over you, and with some man. But he brushed it off as his drunken mind playing tricks on him. He focused back on his cups, but he couldn't shake how similar that woman looked to you. He fully turned around, squinting his eyes in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. Once his eyes were focused and clear, he saw that it was indeed you, with another man. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw you sharing kisses and loving touches with this stranger. It finally started to make sense to him why you insisted on keeping your relationship with Aegon strictly platonic.

Aegon would go classic Yandere at this point. He'd confine you to your chambers so you wouldn't be able to meet this man anymore. He would probably have his more...sketchy acquaintances deal with the man, eliminating him completely. You would cry and plead with Aegon to just let you go, to allow you to continue to see your lover, but your attempts to sway him were futile. He'd kiss you, whether you liked it or not, and he'd breed you until he was certain you were pregnant, simply another way to keep you anchored to him. Aegon was never much of a patient man, but he'd gladly wait until you accepted him as your one and only love.

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Daemon was no stranger to marriage, having been wedded twice already, to Lady Rhea Royce and Lady Laena Velaryon. He was quite sad over the manner in which his second wife had died, and he had truly loved her. Though, he didn't show his sadness, preferring to keep up his appearance of indifference. But then, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you at her funeral. You were the daughter of a wealthy merchant who resided at Spicetown, and he was quickly smitten with you.

You were wedded to Daemon not long after, as your father was ecstatic when Daemon asked for your hand. Your father had considered it a great honor and blessing that a Targaryen prince had asked to wed you, and he didn't care to take your feelings into consideration when he accepted the offer. Daemon had observed you were rather closed off and reluctant toward him, but figured your apprehension was either due to how your father wedded you off like it was nothing, or maybe even his reputation as the "rogue prince." When you came to Daemon one day asking to visit Spicetown so you may see your father, he agreed. He wasn't going to keep you from the only family you had, and he somewhat enjoyed the seaside town and its simplicity. Once there, your behavior changed. You were acting a bit shifty, and you weren't even spending much time with your father, instead staying out and about, always disappearing off. Daemon decided to follow you one day, not caring if you discovered him and got angry at him for doing so. he watched you go to a pier, and talk with some fisherman. Maybe he was an old friend or a friend of your father's? But jealousy began to hinder his judgment, and even more so when he saw you kissing the man.

Daemon clearly thinks little of the consequences of his actions, and so he'd stride over, cutting the man down with Dark Sister. He'd drag you roughly by your wrist back to your father and have you say goodbye. Once back home, do not think your actions would go unpunished. Like Aegon, he'd lock you in your chambers, slowly taking away freedoms and making you dependent on him. He didn't care if you hated him, in time he'd make you understand his actions.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ser Criston had quickly taken notice of you, a new serving girl. You were always timid around him whenever he tried to make idle conversation, something he found adorable. As the queen's sworn shield there were not many times he could speak to you, but at night when he was posted outside her door, you would walk by, holding various cleaning supplies. Then he would stop you to make friendly conversation. Slowly but surely, he was falling in love with you.

One night, Ser Criston would stop you once more. You had assumed he would make more conversation with you, but you were surprised when he dragged you off. He would sneak you both out of the Red Keep and into the city, finding some drunken Septon and forcing him to wed you two. You were so in shock, that you barely protested, and you were now his wife.

Ser Criston was so fond of you, and how timid you continued to be around him. He had forsaken his vows just to be with you, and he would not so subtly remind you of this, in some way to guilt you into keeping quiet about your marriage. And you did feel guilty for having a lover when Ser Criston had risked his integrity and honor to be with you, but you didn't ask to wed him, and that was his own doing and of no fault of yours. One day, while Ser Criston was making his way to his own quarters for rest, he saw you stealing kisses with some lowly stable boy. After all he had risked to be with you, this is how you repaid him? No, Ser Criston wouldn't stand for it.

The next night, when you were approaching the hall where the queen's chambers resided, and where your dear husband was stationed, you noticed how...angry he looked. You would slow your footsteps down, dreading approaching him, but it was inevitable. He would roughly grab you when you finally were near, making you drop your cleaning supplies to the ground. He'd hold your face tightly with one hand, threatening your position as a serving girl, your only source of income. He would make you swear that you'd never see the stable boy again, lest something terrible should happen to him. All you could do was helplessly nod your head in agreement, and hope Ser Criston would spare you both.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #yandere ser criston cole #yandere #headcannons

[chrollohearttags]

kinktober day eight

character: roronoa zoro

show: one piece

kink: knife play

word count: 1.9K

content + themes: halloween/house party, heavy drugs and alcohol use, fingering, blood, choking, reader and zoro are fwb, (he’s kind of a bad boy + reader is a coquette/Barbie doll type idk the proper term) rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of oral sex, calls reader a bitch + slut, spanking, daddy’s used, backshots, cumshot

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.

“You’re one crazy little bitch, you know that?”

the deep voice lingering in your ear before being met with a dizzy chuckle. A veiny, tattoo-ridden hand laced around your throat, akin to that of a choker; two fingertips mashing lightly into your windpipe to lightly asphyxiate you. A sensation..a feeling you’d never grow tired no matter how many times it happened. His thumping heartbeat and barreled chest pressed to your back as you pushed your ass against his clothes crotch..although your bodies were shrouded in dimness with only the faint LED lighting to illuminate your faces. But the man behind you was no stranger by any means. He was someone you knew, someone you trusted and someone you could never let go of..hence why you were allowing him to do something rather strange and dangerous to you at the moment.

“Mmm..and you love it, don’t you?”

“Yes…and I love you.”

muttering in a slurred tone of speech, courtesy of the countless shots of Casamigos and X pills running through each of your veins. Although it was barely audible over the sounds of thumping speakers and loud voices downstairs. (Y/N) (L/N) and Roronoa Zoro, two polar opposites that attract far too much, even though you had no business together. Having first met you when you were in high school, the mysterious bad boy with the dark green hair and an affinity for knives was in an entirely different social circle from your own. He and his friends were a bit rambunctious..always getting into some sort of mischief. And although they were a bit of troublemakers, they were good people to their core. You’d always been intrigued and even befriended most of them by the time you graduated and went on to college. As for Roronoa, it was something far more than friendship that blossomed. However, the people in your life and social circle disapproved of the union, mainly because they didn’t believe that you were the type of girl who should associate with someone who had already accrued a criminal record. And it was easy to see why. An honor student with a good family and a bright future, fucking with a rebel like him? Not a good look! He also was inclined to agree when he heard you came from money but once he got a taste of you, he simply couldn't stay away. Strutting around in your bright pink attire; contrasting that gorgeous dark skin, afro puffs laced with butterfly and flower clips, along with your dainty aesthetics, he was smitten. Those chiseled cheeks of his flushing with red each time he saw you. It was a reaction that couldn’t be helped. He was enamored with you, obsessed even..so much so, even without the approval of anyone else, the two of you continued hooking up and seeing one another. Being cordial in public but fucking like absolute animals in private!

just as tonight..when you were invited to a mutual acquaintance’s Halloween party and you both happened to show up with your respective groups. By no other means than pure coincidence, he dressed up as the Joker and (y/n) donned a slutty Harley Quinn costume. Although your relationship was nowhere near as volatile or toxic, it was certainly explosive, hence why you were in this stranger’s bedroom, high out of your minds whilst the backend of one of his steel blades dredged across your thigh. His digits lacing your throat eventually trailed south to your perky tits..those erect nipples poking through the material of the shirt as he roughly groped them. The only man you’d ever allow to objectify you this way..

“I swear, you’re such a tease. Dancing around in that cute lil’ outfit..trying to get me all worked up so I’d come fuck the shit out of you..was that your plan, baby?” He’d guessed correctly. Reading you like an open book yet again. Not only that, you wanted to up the ante a little. Akin to that of the character he was dressed as, you wanted to see just how sadistic he could get. The two of you had a sex life that could be described as far from vanilla. Perhaps that’s why you chose being with him in secret over courting someone properly. It was far more fun! You’d done things with this man that no one else could ever provide. Especially the squares that your family wanted you to so desperately date. With him, it was fun, salacious, steamy and just downright nasty!..How could you possibly give that up?

“You know me so well, baby..which means you know I don’t want you to take it easy on me either.” “Yeah? And what do you need? Tell me..”

questioning with that alluring sensuality he always used before getting a bit more rough. Meanwhile, he’d squeeze your breasts a little more. Just then, those fingertips began tracing downward to your tiny latex shorts and shoved them in to get a feel. He just knew you were a soaking wet mess for him..that slick stirring around immediately. Zoro massaged your sensitive little clit whilst nipping at your ear with his teeth. A wide smirk coming across his features as he watched you writhe in pleasure against his digits. A bit of foreplay before he had his real fun. That face paint brushing against your skin with each soft kiss he left on your neck..knowing just how turned on he had you. All but melting in his grasp..

“You know what I fucking like. Give it to me.” Flicking your tongue across your lips as you said it. And indeed he did. He was full and well aware of your masochistic tendencies. Wanting equal parts pleasure and pain…always begging to be fucked to the point of tears. Choked, spanked, slapped, having your mouth spat in and even letting him pull your hair. It was so sexy..and he’d never be so foolish to deny your demands. Hell, just last week, you two snuck into a bathroom at a club where he wound up fucking your throat until he left you a sloppy mess. It was that type of spontaneity that kept you both coming back.

“Tch..look at you. Pussy getting wet from a fucking knife..” taunting and muttering as he brought it up to your neck, where he flipped it over and allowed the sharp pocket knife to slice it right across your throat with the tiniest amount of pressure, only enough to draw a minute trail of blood. Which he promptly cleaned up with his tongue. A step he’d repeat a couple times on your shoulder blades, collar bone and even your back. With the opposite hand, he’d thrash his fingers around inside of you and work himself over through the confines of his pants as he ground that stiff cock against your ass. He discovered you had a thing for the taboo little kink when you had sex in the back of his car one night and he decided to tease your thighs with it. “Exactly why I can never let you go. You’re such a little slut.” Which made you smile because you couldn’t agree more. He wanted you so badly, especially when you pleaded with him to keep marking your skin with cuts and licking up the bodily fluids seconds later. Your moans were just the fuel to keep going. Finally, he’d gotten you to the point that you were mere seconds from climaxing. Having put you into an absolute tizzy..

“Oh shit…..I need that dick so bad. Need you to use me.” That sentence alone makes him twitch and practically tear his pants off to get to you. You’d follow suit by tugging your shorts down and letting them hit the floor. Without hesitation, he’d cut the strings of your thong and leave your bottom half completely nude. “Bend over f’r me, sweetheart. Arch that fucking back..” and (y/n) happily complied. Allowing those knee high red heels support your weight. Roronoa immediately clasped your hands behind you and kept you reigned in. That thick, lengthy cock..standing at full attention and roughly eight inches dribbled with precum as he aligned it with your slit. “This fucking pussy… ‘s so good.” Confessing whilst spitting into his palm and rubbing it across that sensitive head; shuddering almost instantly. Especially when he made the first thrust in. For as long as he’d been fucking you, he’d always hit raw. Mainly because you felt too amazing for a condom. But you two loved the thrill. Those warm, juicy, inviting walls clamping around him. It was as if you never wanted to let go..and trust, he’d give you whatever you desired or craved. Every inch of that big dick, a few slaps to those fat asscheeks..hell, he’d even tug on those blond pigtails with blue and red ends whilst pounding you into oblivion. He’d thrash his ring laced fingers into your mouth as well. Slamming that cock deep into your designated With the cutest, blank fucked out expression on your face; a trail of drool seeping from your mouth, (y/n) whimpered and cried out for him to keep going harder. “Please..keeping fucking this pussy—SHIT!” Crying out with tears streaming down your face. His full heavy balls colliding with that pretty little hole of yours. Such a sight to see..but the feeling was even more indescribable. And it was so blatantly obvious that the sensation was wearing on him as well. He’d keep those arms pinned back and have you exactly where he desired.

“Yeah, baby? That feel good? The way I pound this lil’ pussy? Fuck…talk to me, sweetheart.”

always so loud and vocal each time he was in it. It truly couldn’t be helped either. There was just truly something about the way you took him. As if your bodies were designed for each other. Fitting almost like that of a perfect puzzle piece.

“Yes, daddy. It’s so fucking good..thank you so much!” Dragging another shrill cry from you..and a thumping sensation from him. His cock twitching which was a sure fire sign that he was close. Although you had been going a little wild as of late, you weren’t on the pill at the moment and he didn’t want to take the chance. Besides, painting your face seemed much more fun. His deep tone shook with tremor and he’d pat your asscheek once more, before prompting you to turn around and drop to your knees, once he pulled out, he’d push you gently to the floor. You’d wait patiently and pretty, tongue sticking out with those eyes shut. Heaving and moaning, he’d proceed to jerk himself off…wringing that cock in your face with slow, circular pumps until..

“Ughhh..fuck! I’m coming—cominggg…'' those beautiful cries filling the room along with your ears and his warm seed splattering your face. The load would spill on your tongue, forehead, and tits. Smiling the entire time until he finished. Zoro would stumble back an inch or so before gathering himself. Finally regaining his senses, he’d kneel down, giving you a tiny slap to the cheek and a deep kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Mmph…thank you, baby.”

“Thank you for being so good to me..now let’s get out of here. I think your friends might be looking for you.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties @astrokatsuki

#kinktober #kinktober drabble #one piece #one piece smut #one piece zoro #one piece drabble #op smut #op zoro #zoro roronoa smut #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x black reader #zoro x female reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x black!reader #one piece imagine #zoro imagine #zoro #zoro roronoa x y/n #one piece anime #op au #one piece au #modern au #black fem reader #black reader #black reader smut #cw knife #cw knives #cw smut

[callsignvenomcod]

a soft life

Prompt: Retired! Simon Riley. A slow life in a Manchester farm.

warning: mentions of PTSD, mentions of cartel related violence, mentions of violence, MDNI.

PS: Opening line is from the book "Jarhead" (2001) by Anthony Swofford.

______________________________________________________________

A story.

A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterwards he returns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper; his hands remember the rifle.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

For a long time, it was hard to convince himself he deserved to grow old. It might have been a given fact to some other people but not for those in the military, not for Ghost, at least; not after Tommy and Beth, or Las Almas or Johnny. It took him a lot of time to be grateful to be almost 40. For several reasons, he never saw himself living past 20.

And now he was opening up the crates of the chickens he kept in his very own farm, a piece of land he actually owned, without a mask on, very far away from the bullet sounds and a barrack, from the mud and the camo, away from everything and everyone, not sound in the horizon but the chickens and Riley, the border collie dog he got, barking at a three somewhere in the distance.

He retired the summer he turned 40, there was a ceremony and everything, with Laswell and Price and he got more chest candy that would eventually end up in a wooden chest, never to be seen again, under the bed. There wasn't a reason, he just had to. He was in his prime, physically, but his mind was made of glass lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way, couldn't even train recruits without snapping too hard at them, making them quit, yell at them too much, scare them too much, beat them up to a pulp too much.

Every man in the military had a story. A life before, a life after. And in the middle, sand, or mud, or just camo. A war that last years, a mission that lasts hours. Silence and nosie.

He, like other recruits, like other Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, had shadows over them. It took months for him to stop looking over his shoulder while doing the big shop on a sunday, started going to those overnight groceries store to shop alone instead. The butcher's reminded him both of his adolescence and the carnage he had caused, flinched whenever he saw a mohawk kid walking down the street, looked twice sometimes only to find a stranger.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets, aye.

He turned in his paperwork and retired silently with lots of medals under his name, lots of dead men and probably women under his knife, missing friends, missing nerves and too scarred to be a model now. Ha.

Oh, and Y/N's wanted to get away at some point anyway.

Y/N. The last drink he never should have had, the cut that made him hide his face, and the party that made him feel his age. Pulp's words, not his. All it took was a few nights shopping at the Tesco she was working in as a cashier, late night shift, for them to become acquainted.

A year of mutual pinning, a single night in which Y/N placed the bourbon bottle and the batteries inside of the paper bag and looked up at Simon, change in hand (because he paid in cash always, no traces behind) and smiled at him. COVID had made it easier to transition from the skull balaclava to a medical mask and then to a bare face, so Simon looked at her behind the black medical mask and stared at her while she opened her mouth.

-Why do bees have sticky hair?

Simon blinked, looking down at her. -Pardon?

No line behind him. It was the first time the cashier talked to him other than "Goodnight" and "Drive safe", or "It will be 5.66, please". There was a faraway sound of some sort of 80's American pop music, something to pass time by. Simon had noticed her since the first time he came into this very same Tesco a few months ago, had noticed how she sang along whatever music was on, how her Tesco blue uniform looked too big on her, making her look insanely small and slinky. He noticed how she was always almost without a medical mask and whenever she used it, it was laced around her chin; he noticed short, clean nails, and a heart necklace over her chest, a pair of dazzling dove eyes, full hips, a belly.

He really noticed the full hips.

The girl fucking giggled and repeated. She must had a bit of Irish in her judging by the sound of her accent. Simon felt as awkward as a teenage boy in front of any girl ever -Why do bees have sticky hair?

The man shook his head, still confused, a quid in his hand.

-Because they use a honeycomb.

Ah, a woman after his own heart. Such a lame joke.

He snorted out a laugh.

It simply slipped and he memorized the name tag before grabbing his shopping bag and shaking his head, hearing her giggle behind him as he exited the store, and he came back two days later after convincing himself he needed two jars of red bean jam instead of the usual one.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

And now she sleeps here; and Simon had stared at her sleeping form wondering how much time it would take for her to start hating his way of loving, of being, how many times he would go silent on the phone, a bad texter, a worst caller, how he hated crowded places and loud noises and most of their dates happened in her flat, when her roommate was out, staring silently at a film on TV, her friends thinking she's getting her brains fucked out by an experienced, older, lust thirst Vet when in reality, Ghost was gathering up the courage to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

And now she sleeps here.

In the crook of his neck, his thigh over his hip, wild hair all over the bed, sometimes inside his mouth because he stopped using a mask a while ago.

In the mornings, tangled in their bed, warm sheets, the soft breeze of Riley sleeping under the bed, her sweet sweat and vanilla scented skin under his, it took Simon a few seconds to realize he was sleeping in the company of someone; in the arms of a woman and in his own bed, a king size bed with soft white sheets that were washed and changed every 5 days, not a twin bed in a barrack, that his years of active service were over, not forgotten, as if, but that he could allow himself to become whatever he might end up becoming if the 141 didn't happened.

-Come here, boy. Come here, Riley. Yeah, yeah...- said Simon scrunching down to caress right behind Riley's ear, the dog sticking out his long tongue and barking of joy mixed with the hyper sense of his breed, the soldier being careful not to break the eggs he held in a small basket. Simon had found him a puppy a few months ago, seemed like years really, in a litter box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, a beat-up cardboard sign reading "For adoption." And Simon picked up the only one with a lazy ear. He knew deep down that Y/N would appreciate that and simply put him in the passenger seat of the black Bronco truck he owned and drove all the way back home. -You're up early, eh? You having breakkie with us?

He had fallen into a comfortable routine now. He would wake up, crawl over Y/N's sleeping figure, careful not to wake her with the crack of dawn, 5AM with the BBC on his headphones, a 6'2 shadow jogging through the hills of the outskirts of Manchester, for an hour only the dark of the road, the eventual baby blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun. Sometimes Riley was up for it, sometimes he stood behind cuddled up in their room. And upon his return he would work out in their driveway for another hour, noticing the growing presence of what the media now called a "Dad Bod" (Y/N's words, not him) and eventually hearing soft barefoot steps coming from the room.

There was tea for two before he had to head out, get some tasks done, and a soft kiss hanging from Y/NS plush lips, and he would always try to push it, try his luck. He would smile against it, whispering "Good morning..." with a lazy voice, hands on Y/N's full hips, kneading them, in need of them, and Simon would press up with hard on against her stomach, while deepening the kiss.

It never failed to make her wet. It never failed to make her forget the kettle on the fire for a minute and simply give into his kiss, his embrace; him, overall. Simon would pick her up, easily, laid her on the counter, and her robe would open for him, with or without his help, and she was always so wet for him, so ready to do it.

-Simon...- she will say. - Breakfast...

And he wasted no time into twisting her words, dropping to his knees as if he was in the presence of a saint, of a virgin, of the end of the world, staring at her glistening cunt first thing in the morning, looking up with the adoration she deserved; she would gulp and argue it was not what she meant but she would recoil and whimper when Simon stuck his tongue inside his cunt anyway, overlapping her folds, blissfully eating her out before the sun was completely out.

The dog kept barking all the way down to the house, past the barn and the driveway, the small stable with the one horse they had, the pen he was building to eventually own sheep, and Simon felt the cold breeze of the early morning seeping through his black knit sweater and his jean jacket, as he walked all the way across the grass fields and into his porch, the swinging chair Y/N liked to read in, in a need of a reparation.

-Right...- he whispered to himself seeing the hammer he left outside to remind himself to fix the damn chair, bloody hell. Riley's nose peeked through the front door, opening it with ease and technique allowing themselves in, and the cold of the outside world was quickly gone.

Simon stepped into a cozy home, with a color palette he would have never picked, all warm yellows and oranges, pinks and whites, and soft cushions, warm blankets, a picknick turntable in the coffee table; and music, soft music he didn't recognize coming from it, a spinning record on it with yellow and pink lyrics, a girl signing about a loved one, and another voice, a present one, horribly trying to sing along.

He snorted out a laugh when Riley started barking and the voice was interrupted abruptly.

-Simon?...- Radio silence. -Babe?

Oh, the sound of his name in her mouth.

He crossed his living room, stepping into the kitchen, holding four eggs in a small bowl, one from each hen they owned, and he stood in the door frame, just a tad taller than him, admiring the view. He had endured white missions in the Russian winter, literal months of the gruesome torture and gory tasks and they all suddenly made sense because there was a girl.

Ah, there was a girl, alright.

Today was English breakfast. No peas for him, no sausages for her. It was stereotypical but easy to make and no one was around to judge them anyway. Next house was a few miles down the road, and even the road was far away, the town was a 30-minute ride. It was their little bit of heaven. The man stepped in, handing her the basket like every other day and kissed her temple, as she grilled some tomatoes slice ups leaning back against him. His hands would find her hips again and she would yawn with intimacy, hair still a mess, thighs still sticky. -Teas on the table, love. It's gone get cold.

-Ah, it's alright...- he said, hugging her tightly, as she kept leaning on him. -Slow morning today, eh...

She had been there and stuck around whenever the PTSD started acting up. She was the one that loved him when he started going fucking mental; and stuck around when she found her burning up SAS gear, a lost look in his eyes as he did so. He would throw in a Ghost mask and watch it burn for a moment, before murmuring a shocked sob and reaching out into the flames to retrieve it. She stuck around while he drank too much bourbon sitting on the porch, skull mask on, his dogs' tags held so tightly his knuckles will go white with force. Y/N even stuck around when the nightmares came, and she would wake up to Ghost whimpering on his side of the bed, breaking a cold sweat, his jaw tight and her brows furrowed, screaming out "Johnny! Johnny!" before waking up in tears, in raged hot tears down his cheeks, short of breath, his head a full of bullet noises and sirens wailings, pictures of his team and the blood and the grease paint. A mess. A shaking shadow.

Every October 11, she will make sure to hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little softer, love him, if it was possible, a little louder.

And she was here now, cooking breakfast, no peas for him; now he was living a soft life, with tea every morning, and a dog named Riley, with soft hands that wondered around his chest whenever he thought about Soap too much, about Gaz and that helo. But she was here now, and she had no sausages today, as they sat down on their small chair in their small kitchen in their small farm. He was living a soft life, and he didn't think of himself as worthy of it, but he must have been done something good to have her cooking breakfast and sleeping in their bed and caressing their dog under the table.

Tomorrow, Ghost would ask her to come out to the porch to find her reading swing fixed and a wedding ring.

She's going to say yes.

He didn't heard the bullets anymore.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Venom here.

Thank you so much to anyone that's been liking my story.

Happy 2024!

#simon riley #cod headcanons #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost cod #modern warfare #mw2

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART ONE

i think you're past the point of saving.

together we might survive.

get me out of this damn thing.

we have no time for stragglers.

do you intend to die for a stranger?

i thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin.

you keep dangerous company.

we can watch each other's backs along the way.

enough of this chatter.

who put you in charge?

i'll trust my own judgement.

a miracle, given everything you've been through.

it'll all be for nothing if you don't find help soon.

you're alive. i'm alive. how is this possible?

seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about.

anything's an improvement on where we just came from.

'we'? you want to stay together?

we need each other.

i can't think of better company.

i wanted to thank you again.

you should be furious, shouldn't you?

kill it yourself — you look capable enough.

i was hoping for a kind soul.

let's try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece.

no need for this to get messy.

i need her alive.

and to think i was ready to decorate the ground with your innards.

please, allow me to introduce myself.

of course it'll turn me into a monster.

you should travel with me.

our odds are better together.

i was ready to go this alone.

maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea.

you seem like a useful person to know.

let's hope any future acquaintances don't hold a blade to your throat by way of introduction.

no harm in a little mystery.

conversation shouldn't be made, it should be grown.

maybe i'd like to get to know you better.

i'm usually better at this.

couldn't have phrased it more repellently myself.

you don't happen to be a cleric, by any chance? a doctor, surgeon? uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?

it's not exactly a common affliction.

a parasite shared is a parasite halved.

you're both twice as tall as me but have half the bloody backbone.

no point getting killed.

second worm gets the cheese and all.

nobody's getting any damn cheese.

she obviously sees your kindness as weakness.

don't let her take advantage.

a simply 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss.

your friends abandoned you.

i've got plenty of friends who aren't soft.

let's just hope she reserves those impulses for any common foes.

what a curious way to awaken.

what is the worth of a single mortal's life?

something the matter?

you must have thoughts about our little stowaways.

thinking about it won't help.

i suppose we'd go our separate ways — not a slight on your company, of course.

no reason for us to not stay together if we get on well.

if we do survive, we'll have separate lives to return to.

let's just say it's a very person, very private acquaintance.

you're not the kind of company i'd keep willingly.

perhaps i'll return the favor at some point.

she's delightful, in a very 'look at me twice and i'll dismember you' kind of way.

i understand much beyond your comprehension.

you'd do well to observe more and question less.

and they didn't cut you from navel to neck?

i am still getting used to people like you.

that large, fleshy nose of yours looks like a mistake.

best to keep quiet, lest any drivel leak from your lips.

i do not intend to stay long in this place.

may your actions express the same mettle.

anomalies lead to surprises.

what hasn't happened may yet come to pass.

not a collaboration i'd have anticipated.

can't you tell me something real about you?

i have a great respect for privacy, especially my own.

i have a very disciplined mind.

those tricks won't work on me.

please don't try that again unless i invite you to.

we meet again, as predicted.

care to explain why you're helping me?

what kind of services can a skeleton offer?

a monster forms inside us, and you care to be idle?

i knew your kind to be fragile.

don't you know an exhausted warrior is an ineffective one?

it's a thickheaded notion in a complex circumstance.

what were you two talking about?

if that was any of your business, we'd have called you over.

your business is mine.

we're entwined.

if we're to survive, we need to trust each other.

you seem reliable.

we're overdue some good fortune.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #bg3 meme #roleplay meme #inbox meme

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 9: Family Drama Trauma

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know. 

Chapter Summary: Feyre joins the family drama trauma. The Inner Circle treads carefully. NyraxAzriel.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

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Night flowed from the Rhysand's palm to collect Elain before she dropped to the floor. Nyra and Nesta watched as the wave of night carry their sister in and set her down on the bed. The Archeron twins followed a floating Elain and took a seat on the leather armchairs by the window. Nesta stared at the sea so far away. Maybe the sea would catch those silver flames. Her power that burned within her had probably burned her last shred of humanity. How did things escalate to this point? Nesta looked at her twin who was also looking outside the window. She turned to look at all the intruders who were Feyre's new family.

Azriel, the man, the male was constantly accompanied shadows that did not miss an opportunity to rush towards Nyra, but not today. The shadows were swirling around their master almost ominously and perhaps cautiously too. The shadowsinger with whom the Archeron twins had developed an odd sort of acquaintance. He was not a stranger but not completely a friend. He was almost a friend maybe. More so than the others.

Azriel was leaned against the wall to their opposite and he was looking at Nyra. Nesta did not know why she felt like Azriel was the only one who could understand her sense of relief when Nyra had woken up. He had cried in her arms for god’s sake. Was Azriel fond of them? Of Nyra? A shadow curled near his ear and he immediately met her gaze. He raised an eyebrow questioningly but she moved her gaze to the next person.

Rhysand, the High Lord. The one who promised protection and failed to uphold it. Rhys looked at her and looked away, guilt gnawing at his throat. Useless. He had made a promise he couldn't keep but she could not fault him for it. He had tried. He had sent troops who guarded their house, hidden in plain sight. Troops who were pointed out to her by Cassian.

The General had tried to talk to Nesta. He had offered to train her but she was so consumed with what happened at Hybern that she couldn't take up on his offer. And Nesta did not know how to be polite when saying no. She knew that he was attracted to her even when she was still human. She caught him staring at her with five centuries worth of desire in his gaze. Like he’d drop on his knees any time to beg her for her consent to do something. Nesta did not know what to make of this. But any time she wanted to be polite or at least remain quiet so as to not spout any bitter words, Morrigan would make her appearance.

Morrigan casually touching Cassian gave Nesta the fury of her life. Light touches on his arms, slinging her arm around his neck and those looks. Looks which held so much intimacy that they shared. Intimacy that she also threw towards Azriel who looked only polite. What was that between the three of them? Had they been lovers? Were they still lovers? But what exactly was in this female that Cassian would like? Nesta had watched the Morrigan throw her time and money at alcohol and dresses during the three weeks she'd been here and that was... it. Nesta had been invited to shopping trips and tours of the magnificent city sprawling below the mountain and she had refused because of the deep flame that threatened to release itself even when Mor was being nothing but polite. This female who continued to share some relationship or bond or whatever that Cassian clearly reciprocated but the overgrown bat also displayed signs of being attracted to her. She did not want to get caught in this... whatever this was. How this female shared laughter and jokes with Cassian and how they'd had their hugs and handholding and armholding moments. Nesta put a lid on it and stomped on it. She would not succumb to something as petty as jealousy against a female whose excessive vanity seemed to be the only thing that defined her.

Breathe. Nyra's voice echoed in her mind. She complied. Nesta closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the powerful gaze of that male all over her. Would his touch be as powerful?

Nesta opened her eyes and watched the worry in Feyre's eyes. It was an emotion that consumed her youngest as she watched Elain and the healer who had been summoned for the unconscious female. Feyre suddenly looked at her and walked forward. She grabbed the nearest ottoman and dragged it near Nesta's chair.

“Is there anything you need? Anything?" Feyre sounded desperate and Nesta did not like it one bit. She turned her face away and watched her sister who occupied the other armchair.

"Nyra." Nesta heard Feyre call out. Her twin looked at their youngest. "Is there anything you..."

"Stop." Nyra began. "Stop holding yourself guilty for this because you're not."

"But I..."

"Why do you ask if we need something?"

"Because I was alone!" Feyre yelled. "I was alone when I was became fae. I wanted to go out and meet people and see places and have a life of my own but I was not allowed to. I kept remembering everything that happened under the mountain and I could not sleep. And I had no one to talk to any of it about. The fact that it took me so long to have someone to talk to is still affecting me, even now when I can make my choices. And now that you're... in this situation, I don't want you to feel like you're alone."

"Don't remind me of choice, Feyre." Nyra spoke coolly. "The fact that we're here evidences the lack of it." Her gaze at the sea beyond the window and her comfortable posture had even Nesta nervous.

"Do you want to go outside?" Feyre asked, her voice now small.

Nyra stilled. Her features seemed to sharpen which was rather surprising because Nesta was the twin with sharp feautres and Nyra was the one with softer features. Now that they had become fae, their physical differences had become more prominent to the point where they could be mistaken for not being twins. "I don't know."

Rhysand did not know why he did it but he stepped forward and began. "We can move you to-"

"I think my sister can speak for herself." Nyra looked at Rhys impassively. He stopped and retreated to his place by the wall between Cassian and Azriel. Nyra looked at Feyre who suddenly went quiet just as her mate was. "We have to deal with this... situation if we are to move forward, precarious as it may be. I don't want to hear anyone talk about what our trauma did to them. If anyone has any complaints," Nyra looked around the room. "You may keep it to yourselves and not bother us at all with it."

"Would you like a tonic to help you sleep?" A brave Nuala asked Nesta whose troubles with sleeping had become quite the news. The wraith had yet to pluck up the courage to speak to Nyra who had woken up only today and seemed to be quite the cranky character.

Nesta beheld the fae with her scrutinising stare. A moment later, she spoke with practised politeness. "No, thank you."

"Would you like for some to be kept on your bedsides just in case?" Nuala's second question made Rhysand and Morrigan wary of Nesta's reaction.

"No. Thank you for asking but I'd rather be ready in case something happens." Nuala nodded and retreated to the bedside where she and the healer summoned for Elain stood as silent spectators to the family drama unfolding before them. Nesta looked at Rhys and Mor who were warily looking at her. "What?" They immediately looked away. And then she saw Amren and her curious gaze. As if she could study her. "What are you looking at?"

Nesta was reminded of Cassian as soon as she said those words. Those were the first words she said to him. Her gaze involuntarily went to him and with how he watched her, she was certain he was thinking the same thing. She looked back at Amren who seemed to attempt at studying them.

Amren smirked and walked over. She placed a hand over Feyre's shoulder and asked. "May I?" Feyre stood up, as though permitting it. Amren took her place on the ottoman and continued to observe Nesta up close.

"What are you expecting to happen, girl?" The way Amren addressed Nesta piqued Nyra's curiosity. She looked at the tiny female that had probably shrinked as she took a seat.

"Another kidnapping. Another drowning session with that disgusting pot." In place of Nesta, a viper sat, ready with her long venomous fangs. The silver began bleeding into her eyes and Amren straightened her posture in alarm.

The first time Azriel saw Nyra after being Made was when she ran out of her room and wept in her sister’s embrace. He had not gotten a clear view but he saw her thoroughly after she had exited Elain’s room, bathed and dressed. Azriel felt like he could fall right there. On the floor, into a pit, anywhere. He could fall and keep falling. He soared at how healthy Nyra looked right then. All signs of ill health was gone. There was more flesh and colour and Azriel felt relief.

Right now, Azriel wanted nothing more than to peel the grey silk off Nyra's skin with his teeth. His desire and the inability to act on it was beginning to make him feel impatient right now so he resorted to tapping his feet and crossing his arms across his chest. Azriel made a note to drag his brothers for a spar after whatever this was. But then he felt it. The raw power Nesta emanated. Colder than the Illyrian mountains in the dead of winter. Like this would be where he would inevitably meet his end. He turned his gaze towards his mate who looked outside the window. Azriel knew of her habit of looking outside the window. She'd told her himself.

"You are always looking outside the window." He had noticed that many times and tonight was the first time he asked.

"There are limited ways for me to see the world. Windows, opening the door for visitors as rare as that may be." Nyra sounded a bit defeated by her own illness. Azriel did not completely understand what that felt like and he did not want to say anything offensive.

"What about the letters?" He asked, remembering the brief incident with the letters back when he had visited the Archerons for the very first time.

"Perhaps." She mused. "Why do you ask?" She gave him a secret smile that calmed him.

"Would you... perhaps, like to go outside?" Azriel was surprised by his own question. But it made sense. He wanted her to see the world and what it had to offer and miss nothing.

"Does your offer origin from pity?" The amusement from earlier was gone.

"No." He quickly defended. "It's just..." He just wanted her to see the world. There were so many things out there. People, cuisine, languages, cultures, customs and so much more. And the human life was too short when he thought about it. He was definitely older than her every living relative. And he was definitely older than most of the deceased ones and yet, here he was, not having aged a day beyond thirty in terms of looks and vigour.

"I am not that stupid." She suddenly spoke. "From what I hear, the world is too beautiful for me to reject such an offer. Pride might result in me dying in this house, never having truly known something about the outside world." And those were the words of a woman who had lost all hope. Azriel felt like Nyra and hope were strangers. There might have been a time when that wasn't the case but the present time seemed to show her nothing but cruelty.

"Your illness. You said you were recovering." Azriel was now worried. And he did not understand why. This human would die, illness or not, and he would live until death claimed him forcefully. As an immortal, he would not die until killed. And amidst his worries, he realised that he had begun caring for this female. That she had begun to be more than an acquaintance. A friend, perhaps. The thought of her dying was unacceptable.

"Slowly. If all goes well. And that's a very big if. Not a when." Nyra would not tell him that she had spat blood the night Feyre visited for the first time as a fae. She would not tell him that their unusual presence had had a physical impact on her. Nesta knew, of course. But Nesta also knew better than to make a scene out of it because of what was at stake.

They did not speak of it. Ever. But he remembered. And Azriel wondered whether she remembered it too. Now that she was a fae and with a long unending life before her, Azriel could perhaps start considering her a friend. Or a friend's friend. She was the sister of his sister-in-law. Maybe that's where he should begin navigating this mating bond.

Friendship could be a good start. He wasn't madly in love with her or anything. This was not love at first sight but for now, in the depths of his heart, he felt like he would eventually be utterly under her mercy. He knew it in his soul that he would love this female in the future because he had already begun craving the salvation that only she could be.

As she sat by the window, Azriel realised that this had been the first time he’d seen her in the daylight. Anytime he saw her during the day in the Archeron estate, the sun was usually dull. Here, in the clear skies of Velaris, the sun shone albeit not as brilliantly as it would have in the Day Court. Under daylight, he thought she glowed. Nyra's hair was tied to the side of her neck with the hair falling down her breasts in a gentle waterfall. Her curly hair had somehow become a little less curly, Azriel did not understand or know how or why. All he knew that Nyra, who was once beautiful, had become divine.

But it would take time before she overcame whatever the cauldron had thrown at her. Before she became that curious woman who had not shied from asking him about Prythian. It felt like she was trying to see the world through his eyes. And Azriel remembered her remark about her confinement.

He brushed against Rhys’s mental shields until they collapsed and he spoke to his brother. Link us with Feyre. I want to tell her something. Rhysand gave a hum of agreement before doing so.

Hello, Azriel. Feyre’s tired voice sparked a twinge of guilt about what he was about to say.

We should shift them to the townhouse.

Already trying to get into her good graces, Az? There was a teasing note to it.

The twins will have more interest in getting out of the house if it’s something they can do themselves. They don’t feel comfortable around us so it’s best if we give them enough space and freedom to let them come out of their own shell. Besides, there’s a garden which can interest to Elain Archeron.

Alright. Feyre agreed, seeing the reason behind it all.

What I’m going to say is going to hurt you but I believe it’s for the best. Azriel waited for a while.

I can take it. Feyre was trying to be brave. Trying and failing, something Azriel and Rhysand noted.

For now, keep a distance from your sisters. Let them seek you out.

Az. Rhys’s warning growl was something the shadowsinger ignored rather easily.

You went to them and they have yet to react amiably. Keep a distance. Don’t stop seeing them but stop seeking them out and asking them if they need anything. Let them come to you when they’re ready to speak to you. Azriel sounded as though he’d had a long time to make a very thorough analysis of the situation but this was second nature to him as Spymaster.

Alright. Feyre sounded defeated. Let’s try this.

Darling. Surely there’s another-

This is about them, Rhys. Not about me. Their trauma is not about me. It’s about them. Feyre interrupted Rhysand. And I’m sorry, Azriel.

Whatever for? The shadowsinger asked, noting the guilt in his High Lady’s voice.

She’s finally been reborn and she has suffered again. Azriel remembered the pain he felt five centuries ago when this sould was Rhysand’s sister and that girl had died. He’d been too young and naive to understand his own inner turmoil after her death and it took too long before he understood what it was. The Bone Carver was a bastard of a death god who managed to give him the one reason he’d clung to life for so long.

Azriel remained quiet for a while before he spoke. What matters now is that she’s alive, healthy and. She’s emotionally disturb and needs to heal. So let’s focus on that.

Your older sisters are strong females, Feyre. All of you possess a different kind of strength. Everything will be fine. And Azriel’s quiet presence left the mental link between the three.

Azriel felt so calm and light but then the most daunting thought popped up—would she be lovelier than right now? If so, then she would have males and females at her feet and he’d never be a choice worth considering. Her head tilted to the right just a bit. What the fuck was that? A sudden shock to his nerves to induce a heart attack. Why had she looked so adorable right then?

Everyone remained quiet for a while. Nesta examined the curtains from top to bottom. Some thick material which could easily block the sunlight but this was Elain's room and she had repeatedly made it clear that she needed the sunlight. Nesta remembered the curtains from her room. And the ones from Nyra's room.

Azriel looked at Cassian and then at Rhysand. The three of them connected mind to mind and Cassian was the first to speak. Say something. Anyone!

What are we supposed to say? Rhys shot back.

Ask them if they want to do something Nyra is now awake. Don't let them sulk around. It'll be harder for them to get used to being fae if they remain like this. Cassian's words made Azriel frown.

The sun was now setting. Daylight had started dimming. The sky was turning pink. Its glow fell on Nesta and Nyra and they remained quiet.

"Would you like to have dinner?" Azriel broke the silence. His uncharacteristic act gained him all the attention in the room but his gaze remained on Nyra who looked at him. It suddenly occurred to him that that was the same question he would have asked if he were actually courting her. Azriel had almost forgotten how it felt to be nervous. Nesta was glaring at him but he did not know how he'd cope if Nyra were to deny.

At the same moment, her stomach rumbled. Everyone heard it. Azriel coughed and brought a hand to his mouth to cover the smile that had threatened to creep on his face. He saw that Nyra was, in fact, embarassed. He walked over and kneeled. "You've been asleep for weeks. Let's have some food."

Nyra looked away from him, clearly not wanting him to see her face but a faint blush had been painted on her cheeks. Mistress. So lovely. Adorable. And Azriel agreed. She did look rather adorable. Unlike Nesta who had prominent cheekbones, Nyra had more flesh on her cheeks and the blush on it reminded him of peaches.

"There's chocolate cake for dessert." Nyra looked at him immediately at the mention of chocolate. She had not tasted it in years but she remembered how she loved it. She did not even remember how it tasted like even though she had eaten back when she was still healthy. And now, there was chocolate. She looked like a child, fascinated. Azriel was trying to lure her to dinner with her favourite.

"Alright." She mumbled. Her stubbornness to hide after her rumbling stomach was felt across the bond and Azriel felt all the relief in the world. Their connection did not have any barriers so far and he had to keep some from his side so that she wouldn't be overwhelmed with emotions. He did make a note to teach her mental barriers but for now, he would use them as a cheat sheet to understand her more.

Azriel looked at Nesta who looked at him with all the surprise she had been suddenly hit with. "Will you come for dinner, Nesta?" Nesta simply nodded and he was content. He stood up from where he kneeled before Nyra. "We'll meet you at seven thirty." They had approximately an hour and a half. On his way out, he ushered the others outside and closed the door to give them their privacy.

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@waytoomanyteenagefeels@impossibelle@esposadomd@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@judig92@bunnyredgirl@sh4nn@a-frog-with-a-laptop@kattzillaa@ronnieglennn@wallacewillow0773638@forgiveliv@justdreamstars@donttellthecats@cat-or-kitten@jojodojo02@wandas-dream@evylynny@weasleyreidstyles@stqrgirlies-blog@why4anne@acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe@macimads@footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria

#a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acofas #acomaf #acotar #acowar #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #acotar series #azriel #feyre archeron #feysand #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #nessian #night court

[ev3rm0re-q]

study nights.

desc: you have a hard time trying to get taehyun's attention as he tries to study and accomplish his physics homework.

pairing: taehyun x shy reader

genre: fluff

warning/s: nonee

wc: 1,548 words

a/n: bro he looks SOO fine in these pictures i canttt. anyway, im so sorry for being so ia huhu but i j wanted to thank everyone for all the support the first post has been getting <33 i want to reply to the comments but im so bad at simply interacting with others that im scared to sound awkward kjdfnajkd. ik this is another fluff but i swear ive been working on a muchh longer fic that i wannna post soon, so stay tuned and i hope u guys enjoy this one first!!

Only the scribbling of words on some papers and the sound of typing on a keyboard could be heard in Kai and Taehyun's shared room as the two of you went about with your own separate activities.

Kai, his roommate, was currently in the living area with the other boys, given that he didn't want to interrupt you two during your time alone. Which was a bit of a wasted effort considering Taehyun seemed to be using it more for his solo study time. 

At the moment, your boyfriend was devoting his utmost attention to his academics, with different papers and books systematically scattered all around the small study desk. His favorite pen on hand for extra notes, and he had a laptop propped up by a stand, followed by a Bluetooth keyboard on which he was currently typing his heart out.

You, on the other hand, were sat timidly on his bed with a good novel pressed against your nose. You did not wish to disrupt the boy because you knew how serious he was about his studies.

He had been trying to complete an extremely difficult homework for his Physics class, and because you didn't choose that as one of your classes for the year, you'd have no idea how much pain and suffering he'd have to endure in that class.

Like he was even going to suffer with that Professor Kim around.

Taehyun was very academically inclined, and as a result of the way he behaved himself, participated in class, and excelled in all of the work given to him, he often became the teachers' favorite student.

You could not help but admire your boyfriend for it. He truly possessed a lot of exceptional qualities.

Though your relationship was not as fresh as it used to be―you both being together for eight months long―you could not help but let your bashful manners take over when it came to situations like these.

You'd always been a shy and reserved kid who couldn't seem to take a stand for what you wanted in public interactions.

Of course, you could still converse with strangers when they needed directions and whatnot, but you never bothered to join large gatherings or tried to blend in with the other kids because you felt it was pointless and time-consuming. Basically being the opposite of Yeonjun... but you were still close friends with him.

Which is why you've often questioned how you managed to catch the attention of the extroverted boy sitting at the desk across from you. Maybe it was the random exchanges in the hallways- or you being well-acquainted with the rest of the boys.

Who knows?

You were just thankful that someone saw something special in you.

You looked up from your novel, expecting him to be almost finished with what he was doing and offer you some of his attention. Instead, you were disappointed to see that he remained deeply absorbed in his study. His focused gaze visible in his dark-brown eyes.

Because of this, you began to wonder if approaching him for attention was even a good idea. You decided to move a bit forward from your position until you were directly behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

For the following thirty minutes, you continued to silently read as he worked, giving him subtle hints that you wanted him to at least feel your presence from right behind him and take a glance at you.

"Tae?" You murmured out softly, unsure whether you wanted him to actually hear you or not.

He continued to focus solely on his work as he hummed out in response, "Hm?"

"How's your worksheet going?" You awkwardly questioned.

"Pretty rough, if I'm being honest. Why, love?"

"I-uhh just wanted to make sure you were doing alright." You uttered out before going back to your book.

Another hour had soon passed, and his prior hyper radar focus appeared to have cooled down to a more relaxed state as he progressed more with finishing his homework.

You were finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand because of the guys' occasional loud noise s outside, which was beginning to increase.

"You know, if you needed my attention, you could have just said so," He suddenly stated, out of the blue, eyes still glued to his screen.

"Huh?" You let out, not expecting him to even notice what you've been doing the whole time he was so immersed in his work.

"You heard me, love." He turned his chair around to finally look at you after hours of having his full attention on his homework.

"I'm not needy for your attention." you sneered, not wanting to appear 'needy' to him.

You hated that word. Needy. You were particularly insecure over having that trait in your relationship. You wished to prove to your boyfriend that you were just as responsible and self-sufficient as he had always been.

You frequently walked yourself home from school and even took precautions as to avoid spending too much time with him by only seeing him once or twice a week or texting him a lot but not too much to bother him. 

Even while you were out with all of your friends, you took care to keep your proximity to him to a minimum so as not to overly suffocate him. It was a pretty big deal to you.

"So you wouldn't mind if I keep going until Soobin calls us for dinner?" 

"Not at all." Your stubbornness took over as your y/e/c eyes never left the book.

So he continued studying for another couple of minutes and you were getting more impatient by the second. 'I fucked up.' you thought, remembering how much Taehyun truly sticks to his word.

You slowly started to fidget with the corners of the pages of your book, looking over your phone every now and then to try and find something to entertain you. Until, you finally broke. You stood up from the bed and headed over to where he sat to place your hands on his broad shoulders.

"Honey~" you called him out and him just humming back again in response.

Actually, he had finished the entirety of his worksheet a few minutes before. He was just pretending to do work to simply get a reaction out of you. The boy only wanted you to get over the shyness you still had, at least a bit, whenever you sought his attention or desired affection. To at least voice it out to him.

You spoke his name out once more, but he simply responded with another hum, seemed to barely acknowledge your calls.

"Can we... you know.."

"Huh?" His eyes still glued onto the PowerPoint he was currently 'studying'.

"...cuddle" You barely whispered out, not even sure if anyone could have heard what you just said.

"Excuse me... can we what, darling?" He teasingly replied.

As soon as you realized he was merely doing it to playfully taunt you, your stubborness resurfaced.  

"You know what, never mind." You immediately took your hands off of his shoulders, backing out of your previous statement and started to walk back to his bed.

You suddenly heard another loud squeal come from the living room, it was probably Yeonjun teasing Kai again. That's when the idea popped into your head. You started making a beeline for the door, trying to leave without muttering another word to your boyfriend.

"What do you think you're doing?" His eyes left the screen in front of him.

"Well, I figured the rest of the boys were just playing around outside, and since you're busy, I figured I could just get extra cuddles from Kai or Beomgyu, or something." You blurted, your novel still safely stored in your hand, as you inched closer to the door.

You then felt a soft hand grab your empty one, swiftly pulling you back. Your body was tenderly encircled by familiar arms from behind, and you felt his body's warmth envelop yours as his head rested on your shoulder.

"Just say it, please." You heard him barely mumbling it into your shoulder.

"Say that you want my attention. That you want me." He practically begged into your ear.

Since he was so close to you, you stammered out "I-I" as you felt his hot breath brush up against your neck like a feather.

"You don't have to look for it from other people, Y/N. I'm here." He reassured you before slowly guiding you back towards his bed.

You two simply lay there together as you gazed into his large, dark-brown eyes that nearly had the appearance of dark pearls. As he was witnessing your open gawking at him, he couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. 

"Why are you laughing so much." You pouted as he continued to tease you.

"I don't know, honestly. I just can't help the fact that I find you pretty cute." He remarked.

"Ugh, you're such a tease Kang Taehyun."

He then brought you in even closer before sealing the already little space between you with a gentle but hungry kiss.

--

"Were you really going to ask for cuddles from Beomgyu?"

"I think you missed the part where I also said Kai."

End.

#taehyun #kang taehyun #taehyun fic #taehyun fluff #txt #txt soft hours #beomgyu #hueningkai #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x reader #taehyun x you #taehyun x y/n #txt fanfiction #txt fic #txt fluff #txt x you #txt oneshots #taehyun oneshots

[heiznx]

PRINCESS ARRIVAL

∗༝*◦✦ it's neige's first time meeting you yet he hopes you would already see him more than just a stranger or an acquaintances.

BEFORE READING, this contains light cursing, slight yandere behavior and all that goes with it.

Neige LeBlanche, you quite dislike him.

On your first arrival to Twisted Wonderland, you knew nothing about him until you went out with some of the Night Raven College and saw it: his face on keychains, stickers on people's tumblers, and his name embroidered on tote bags.

Cater was the first to actually introduce him to you, and he did so by showing you a video that was blocked by an advertisement that featured Neige LeBlanche.

Vil was the second when he spoke of Neige during practice, and Rook described him as someone who has rose-red lips, glossy ebony hair, and an endearing smile that could charm anyone (his words, not yours).

You didn't dislike him because he did anything wrong; you were just biased because it saddened you to know that Vil sees himself as less than who he actually is.

Grim looked at you with a face expressing betrayal after the headmaster informed him that he had to stay in class while you had to fetch example materials from the bookstores near the island—you just couldn't say no.

At the moment, you were looking around, trying to recognize the place you were in and connecting it with the map in your hands; you didn't want to get lost in the unfamiliar world or, worse, taken.

You took many mental notes of your surroundings. You can see a black-haired student walking in front of you, holding hands with what you assumed was a dwarf, and there were many red-roofed stalls.

Your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out what they were selling before you heard someone loudly yelling, "Hey! Watch it!"

Now that made you even more cautious than you were since the sound was too close and it seemed like it was directed at you when it was truly for the student and the dwarf in front of you.

It was fast; you saw the student falling back towards you, and you automatically moved your map to be held by the fingers of your dominant hand before extending your hands forward.

Oh, and that you caught him.

The problem was that you didn't catch him like how the main character gets caught by the love interest; it wasn't the arm around the shoulders—no—you caught him by hooking your arms below his.

You nearly staggered, not taking the weight of the student into account as you did with the entire scenario. Your eyes caught the red text on his sailor hat that was askew and embroidered on it: "Someday My Princess Will Come", and then you noticed him staring at you.

You suddenly thought of Rook's words about how Neige LeBlache had rose-red lips and black hair as ebony; you had no idea why you looked at his parted lips like he was surprised, but it was in your line of sight.

"Neige! Are you okay?" the short gray-haired dwarf asked as you pulled up the student to his feet. "Oh…! Thank you so much!"

"It was just my impulse…" you smiled, albeit nervously. "More importantly, is your friend okay?"

The ebony-haired student hasn't moved ever since he landed in your arms earlier; you can only see his back, and not even his shoulders looked like they were moving, like he wasn't breathing.

"Neige!" the dwarf called a bit loudly.

This time, you heard the name of the person you caught loud and clear: Neige, like the actual Neige LeBlanche, the artist Neige LeBlanche.

So that's why you suddenly remembered Rook, because his description of Neige LeBlanche was accurate, and that made you try to gaslight yourself, though it was obviously futile.

"I…" your voice broke, so you had to quietly clear your throat first. "I'm really sorry if I spooked your friend in any way, but I can't stay much longer since I have errands to run for our headmage."

The dwarf looked at you, giving you a polite smile before saying, "That's alright, thank you for—"

"Or we could assist you!" Neige suddenly spoke, surprising both you and the dwarf, and it seemed like he just recently started breathing again. "Ah! I didn't mean to frighten you…!"

"No, no, it's not like that! I just got surprised," you tried to reassure him immediately since it was part of your personality. "But… are you two not busy as well? I'm assuming you two are from the Royal Sword Academy."

"Are you perhaps from Night Raven College?" the dwarf asked, to which you nodded with a small smile. "What a coincidence! You see, we are on our way to buy supplies for our props, so if you're on your way to the same place, perhaps we could travel together?"

"I mean..." you uttered as you looked down, hesitant.

You took note of how the dwarf didn't seem to hold any resentment towards you, even though you're from the other side of the island, not to mention that Royal Sword Academy was a school that your school considers their rival.

"I believe we could at least introduce ourselves; I'm Dominic," the dwarf said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing towards you as a greeting. "I'm a second-year student at Royal Sword Academy."

"I see... I'm [name]," you said, and you contemplated extending your hand, but you were already doing it before you knew it. "I'm from NRC... and... I'm a third year."

"Neige, Neige LeBlanche! I'm a third-year too!"

He immediately grabbed your hand before Dominic could, but no one could say a thing since he was smiling brightly and gleaming, and you felt yourself being drawn in for a bit—he was almost similar to Kalim.

However, you tensed a bit when Neige placed his other hand on the back of yours, sandwiching your hand as he shook it, but to be polite, you gave him an eye-closed smile and a nod, expecting him to let go in a bit.

"Neige..." Dominic looked at him, making Neige look at Dominic too, and the dwarf gestured towards his hands that were sandwiching yours.

"Ahh! I'm sorry!" Neige released his hold immediately, placing his hands behind him to try and ease your discomfort. "I zoned out, I'm sorry!"

"No... it's fine," you responded hesitantly as you looked down at your hand. "Uhm, please do lead the way, I'm still... new in this place."

"Of course!" Dominic said, trying to ease your discomfort too. "Let's look for supplies in the bookstore!"

Neige was so nice that you just continued being wary of him since you weren't used to seeing someone that nice in Twisted Wonderland unless you were facing Kalim or Ortho.

It wasn't just his kindness and soft-spoken voice that made you feel that way; it was also because he seemed to be staring at you awfully much.

You had the supplies Crowley wanted at hand, but you find yourself wishing you could buy some supplies you've been eyeing, but alas, using the headmage money can cause drawbacks.

Maybe you should've accepted Neige's offer when he said he'd pay for what you bought, but that seems like you're taking advantage of his naivety.

Dominic was still in line, three people away from the cashier, so you engrossed yourself at the shelves where the books are, skimming through the titles and summaries.

"Do you like that book, [name]-san?"

His voice just popped out of nowhere, and you tensed a bit before relaxing yourself with your finger on top of the book as you looked back at Neige, who smiled at you innocently.

Perhaps you've grown to have a soft spot for Neige, but only a little bit—just a tiny little bit—because he was so nice to you despite only meeting you today and he was so attentive towards you; it felt overwhelming, but you weren't voicing your concerns, so you assume it was partly your fault.

"How many times are you going to ask that?" you chuckled as you pulled out the book from the shelf and looked at the cover. "Well... it has an interesting cover and title, but I'm just browsing."

You flipped the book to look at the summary on the back, your eyes scanning over it—oh, it has one of those famous troupes back in your world.

It's to be expected that there are transmigration books with long titles that have an obsessive love interest and a second lead that's chasing after the main character, who ends up with the so-called unexpected love interest.

The familiar plot is making you look back at the similar books you've read before, so you looked at the price to see if it was affordable, and to your not-really-shock, it was not.

"Didn't you want that?" he asked after seeing you return the book to the shelf after reading the summary.

"It has an interesting title and all..." you trailed off a little since you were overthinking the placement of the book a little, not sure if you got it there or the book beside it. "It has an interesting troupe that I'm familiar with, but I don't recommend it to you."

To him, who was looking at you with an innocent beam, one who can take all the words you say despite their harshness and might even see them in a positive light.

Now that you think about it, some obsessive people in what you read started off like that too; they were easily manipulated—you suddenly broke off your trail of thought because you're questioning yourself about why you were thinking about Neige in that way.

"Why not?" he asks, looking both curious and a bit surprised. "It can't be bad since you seem to be familiar with it, what is the book about?"

"It's something about—" you try to find a better word to hide the meaning of the book, so you grab the book to read it again while your mind works to paraphrase it. "The love interest likes the main character a bit more than usual."

"There are... boundaries to being interested in someone?" Neige asks, as you want to start sobbing in your mind because his tone sounded like he was completely oblivious to what you were talking about.

"I suppose it depends on morality," you said, steadying your voice as you returned the book, thinking of creating an example in which he recognizes it, but you don't want to trigger anything about him since you know nothing about him. "Let's say... someone likes someone too much to the point they cause pain to them and also to other people."

"In terms of... being too much..." Neige says, the side of his index finger near his lips, and you nodded a little to encourage him to continue, though you were digging yourself a grace in your mind. "In your own words... what is too much?"

You were taken aback. He was so innocent about the topic, and he could've asked for different things, such as why you thought the summary was interesting or why you were familiar with such a topic.

What answer should you even give to that personal question? It was opinionated, but you don't know what to say since you can't form coherent words at that moment.

"Is there anywhere you have to stop by, [name]-san?"

Dominic was back. You and Neige both looked at him, but you'll formulate an answer in your mind later because that question isn't really your priority anymore.

Your focus was on Dominic's question because it reminded you that yes, you do have something to do, and you had to buy ingredients for Vil's smoothie since his supply ran out and the cafeteria was a no for him.

"I do," you nodded a little, not noticing the way Neige lit up at your response. "What I need is near Night Raven College so I can manage on my own since your school is on the opposite... side of where I'm going."

"That..." Neige spoke first, the light in him dimming, but he remained smiling as you gave him an apologetic smile. "That's a shame."

"But it was nice to have you around," the dwarf said, to which you blinked surprised, causing him to laugh. "We hope to see you during the competition."

"And I wanted to get to know you a bit more," the other said, making you turn to him just to see him taking out his phone, and it's obvious what's going to happen next. "Could we share contacts, [name]-san?"

You hesitated because, as you think right now, you can't imagine what you were going to talk about with Neige—the Neige LeBlanche at that.

"I don't have a personal one..." you responded, growing a bit nervous.

The two blinked fast at your response, trying not to be too rude about their surprised reactions because even they have one despite their poor background.

Neige clearly remembers your words about how you weren't even from the island you're on, and he remembers how you said you were running errands for Night Raven College's headmage, who sent you out without a phone.

"That was delivered poorly..." you said after a few seconds of silence, fumbling to get out the phone the headmage lent. "The headmage lent me one, but it's not mine, so I'm not sure if I can..."

"Ah, that could work," Neige smiled, albeit calmly, as he extended his hand towards you. "May I?"

Nodding, you clicked on the contacts and handed it to him, watching as he tapped your number on his phone instead of the other way around.

"I'm surprised you don't have your own phone..."

"Ah, well..."

"I don't mean anything bad by it... What's more surprising is that it's lent by the headmage himself."

"Shit," you thought; perhaps you shouldn't have let that information slip. "It was for emergency purposes."

Neige hands you the phone back and smiles, "I'll see you again soon, [name]-san."

"Stay safe!"

"Oh! You too!"

A frown spread on your face as you paused the music under Vil's command, looking down on the first years that tried to catch their breath from practicing too much while the second years were used to exerting that much energy.

You grabbed the towels and their respective water bottles before handing them to the dancers; to your amusement, the first years chugged it down as VIl sighed.

"Did you see that?" Vil asked, gesturing to the first years as Rook praised them despite their movements not being up to the model's standards. "Manager."

"If balance is the problem, not to assume because of their structure, but won't heels be a good training method?" you asked, looking up to the model as you tried to block out Rook's words. "The first year's posture and flow are—"

— r i n g !

Horror plastered on your face immediately as you looked away from Vil and down to the headmage's phone in your pocket, which you grabbed immediately.

After your encounter with the students from the Royal Sword Academy and knowing that Neige took your number, you've been anxiously waiting for the call, not wanting to miss it because you didn't want to be the one to call back and start a conversation.

"Take it outside, manager," Vil said, to which you nodded and scurried away immediately, making the Ace and Deuce raise a brow. "What's with that reaction?"

"Ah, well—we thought we were the only contacts the prefect had," Deuce said.

"In reference to the break before the whole competition thing, I was sure we were," Ace agreed, nodding his head as he stood up. "You know what this means, Juice?"

"We don't have time for gossip," Vil cuts in before anything else, making the first years tense up as the model held up a heel. "Wear these."

Ace stared jaw-dropped as Deuce started sweating nervously at the thought of wearing one, and Epel couldn't tell whether to deadpan or laugh at the reaction of the two because Epel was already used to it.

You answered the phone on your way out of the ballroom, just in time to see Riddle walking in with the papers in hand, his heels clicking.

"Good afternoon, prefect," the prefect greeted, his posture perfect compared to your trembling hands that couldn't even put the call on hold. "Am I allowed to enter?"

"Of course, Vil-san and the rest are inside; just don't forget to knock," you said before looking at the phone and placing it near your ear, which made Riddle get the idea that you can't talk for long. "I think you're the exact person they need to see, Riddle-san."

Your words made the Heartslabyul prefect chuckle a little before commenting, "Your mind works wonders."

— c l i c k !

You swear that right after you were talking, the phone fell before another person from Neige's line suddenly talked about cosmetics and also before the call suddenly got cut short.

The ebony-haired student picked up the fallen phone, a red hue covering his pale cheeks, almost matching the color of his lips, before he wiped the screen of his phone.

He sees that the call has already ended, making him softly frown before he notices the notification that pops up suddenly; it was from you, asking if he was okay.

Of course he was okay! He felt more than okay, because not only did he get to call you, he also learned a bit about you, and he got to hear you laugh—and it was all in one day.

The makeup artist stared in horror, fussing over the phone that fell earlier as Neige only lightly trembled in excitement, his lips quivering as he stared at your contact that didn't have a photo or a name that fit the way he sees you.

The happiness he felt could rival the times he read R's letters or when he saw his supporters. He sighs, feeling disappointed that he heard of it through the phone and that the call also ended quickly.

He's fuming, but he had to calm down.

In your eyes, Neige was a stranger, yet you were so nice to him when you two first met, reassuring him many times that he wasn't at fault whenever he made you nervous.

Riddle did interrupt you two early on during the call, but you remained polite, even greeting the dorm leader before you made time for Neige himself.

The point was that you were nice to strangers, and there's no doubt that you'd remain nice to the makeup artist who disturbed your conversation with him, right?

"Alright, let me type something, and then we can continue with the finishing touches," Neige smiled sweetly, looking back down on his phone. "Oh, and could you get something for me in the bookstore and at the mall?"

"O-Of—"

"On second thought, I can do it," Neige cuts off immediately as he happily types. "It would have much more sentimental value that way, right? What phone model is the latest one today?"

Neige blinked at the crying emoji, wondering what he did wrong or if it was serious; he hasn't interacted with people as much on social media, so what you send confuses him.

Did he make you cry already? Was there something wrong with what he sent you?

Nevertheless, you wished him success, and his heart warmed at that. It was probably how you normally text people, yet he yearned to make you see how he stands out in your view of people.

"I can't wait..." Neige smiles as he turns off his phone before turning towards the makeup artist. "For now, I'll work hard until you see me as someone more than someone you just met."

THIS IS HEIZNX, this was an idea i wrote in my notebook, i stressed over the colors sm. there's supposed to be more, like the scene with deuce and epel on the beach (?) part near RSA, and yuu called for neige's help since he's famous. the relationship progressed and all, but mc suddenly stopped replying to neige, because of the book 6 events. i'm imagining vil having an interview with neige and vil brought mc along so they could apologize to neige. they were able to, but neige starts voicing his self-loathing and how he felt sad and all that, and yuu was guilt tripped to being in a romantic relationship with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere neige #yandere neige leblanche

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath IV

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: mentions of eating disorder

Part III || Part V

This week was a real rollercoaster full of bad luck. But since this chapter is ready I can post it. I'm working on the next one and I'd love to cut it somewhere to make it into two chapters, but can't find good place so it may come out as one really long one.

I'm sorry for any mistakes. English isn't my first language 😅

Several days passed since you woke up in Azriel's bed. You hid the dress soaked in his scent to the bottom of the wardrobe, often sitting down and burying face into the fabric. His scent helped you calm down and scare away bad dreams.

Since that day quite a lot had changed.

At first you thought you were crazy. Things were moving around or suddenly appearing in front of you. Repeatedly you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned around, nobody was there. It took you some time to figure it out. But once you found out there were Azriel's shadows following you around, it didn't scare you anymore. They were quite handy especially when you needed to find something.

As it made you incredibly happy that he cared enough to keep an eye on you, it was also a reminder of the biggest mistake you'd ever done, making you feel down and your stomach twist at times.

The shadows followed you literally everywhere which was sometimes really uncomfortable. You were sure they informed him about everything you did on that particular day, but how much exactly did they tell him? It was nerve wrenching. You could only hope they would keep sensitive information to themselves.

Another big change was the shadowsinger himself. As soon as you entered the library he was there. No matter where you worked or how many times you had to move to another floor during the day, you always spotted him somewhere nearby reading book or doing some paperwork.

The first few days it made you nervous and you couldn't really concentrate on work. Even if you tried you wouldn't be able to count how many times you caught yourself staring at him, admiring his beautiful face, strong body, big hands.. and daydreaming. Then somehow you got used to his silent presence. It always made your day seeing him there, making you grin even while aligning and dusting the books.

And that wasn't everything. He often came to you to talk with you. At those moments your heart always started to beat much faster, mouth went dry and your palms started to sweat. It didn't give much sense because after the decades you could hardly call each other acquaintance, strangers more likely, but it was happening. You weren't in position to ask why suddenly he changed his mind so radically, nor you didn't even want to complain. You were happy for this change, giving you a faint hope that maybe.. someday.. you could be at least friends.

When it happened for the first time, you were so shocked you turned red like tomato to the roots of the hair and ran away. Next time you were mentally ready and managed to stutter few words. But you weren't the only one struggling. Azriel seemed to be just as nervous as you. Nevertheless he kept coming even several times a day for word or two. After few days both of you got used to it and were able to talk normally.

First, he would talk to you just about such ordinary things like weather or ask about your wellbeing, but soon enough he started to ask about your current life, past or likes and dislikes.

Lately you spent a lot of time discussing about the books you were reading. You were surprised to find out he read novels and often the ones you liked. He even gave you some recommendations for interesting ones.

You got up early as every morning and prepared for the day. Before leaving the room you checked out the weather and time. 'Should be okay now,' you thought to yourself and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast with few shadows at your heels.

Of course you could eat with other priestesses at dining hall the meal House served you, but there was something relaxing about making your own meal. That's why you always used inner circle's kitchen. But it wasn't the only reason. You didn't like people watching or commenting on how much you put on your plate. You even minded being watched while eating.

During the years living with Mor and Illyrian males here, you figured out their morning routines and knew when no one would be in the kitchen.

What a shock it was when you found out that the kitchen always empty at this time, was occupied. By Azriel!

He was standing behind the kitchen island putting scrambled eggs on the plate. There were already several other plates with toasts, bacon, cut fruits and vegetables set on the table.

He hadn't notice you yet, so there was still chance to get away and let him have his breakfast. You turned around, planing to try your luck later, but the shadows had an idea of their own. They slowly floated around you towards their master.

"Good morning," Azriel said while washing the pan in the sink, back turned to you. His voice was still raspy and that sound made your heart stutter and the heat spread in your lower belly.

"Good morning," you answered, taking a step into the kitchen from you hideaway. You frowned at traitorous shadows, but they just danced around calling you closer. "I'm sorry. I don't want to disturb you. I'll go." You wanted to leave quickly, but he stopped you.

"Would you join me for breakfast?" back still turned to you, he asked. Eyes widening you shifted nervously on your feet. It was too tempting, but it would be just the two of you. You really didn't want to have his full attention while eating. You bit your lower lip, fighting with yourself.

You looked at his strong form still washing already clean pan. You could read the tension in his posture, but you weren't sure what caused it. In the end the heart won the fight and you accepted the invitation. His tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Azriel put the pan away and took two plates and glasses. As he turned to the table his lightly flushed cheeks came into view. With shiny eyes of hazel colour with golden flecks he smiled shyly at you which you returned. This side of him was new to you and you were more than eager to learn more. You'd never seen him behave like this with other females. A small flame of hope lit up in your chest.

Your heart was beating faster with each step you took towards the table. You halted before sitting down, examining food on plates. Suddenly you became nauseous. The food looked yummy and smelled amazing, but there was too much. Much more than two people could possibly eat.

"Is something wrong?" Azriel asked noticing your pale face. His eyes slightly narrowed.

"It looks amazing," you tried to smile. "Is Cassian coming too?"

"He's training with priestesses right now," Azriel tilted his head to the side with unreadable expression, few strands of dark hair falling into his eyes. "Do you want him to come?"

"No," you said quickly. "It's just.. there's so much food.." You felt the heat burning your cheeks.

"It should be enough for two of us," he said, a smirk tugged corners of his mouth upward. You had nothing to say to that, so you just swallowed hard and sat down. Azriel handed you plate and started filling his own. Following his example you took a piece of bacon and a bit of scrambled eggs.

"Would you like some freshly baked bread? It's from that new bakery on the bank of Sidra that opened last week," Azriel offered you. With nervous smirk you took small piece.

You started to eat. Taking the first bite of eggs you blinked in surprise, nervousness forgotten for awhile.

"It's so delicious. I didn't know you can cook so good,"you looked at him grinning. He blushed, but grinned too.

"I'm glad if you like it."

"I love it." You took another bite and then another. While you were eating Azriel kept offering you different goodies he'd prepared until you tried at least a piece of everything on the table. By the time you finished you were so full you thought you were going to burst. It was the most delicious food you'd ever eaten, but you were sure you won't be able to eat anything till next morning.

Azriel finished last bits and together you cleaned the table and washed dishes.

"Thank you for amazing meal," you said as you put last plate to its place.

"Thank you for keeping me company," he leaned against the counter putting his hands into the pockets of trousers. "Are you going to the library?"

"No, it's still too early. I thought I would return to my room and read for awhile."

"I see." His smile faded for a second, but it was back in a blink of eye. "So.. I guess I'll see you later."

With that you returned to your room thinking about his unusual behaviour and about the huge change that happened since he saved you. Even though it was still new to you and hard to believe, you liked it and hoped it's real. With every second you spent with him your heart swelled with love and you fell harder for him.

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar

[lilyrachelcassidy]

'Accident'

Felix Catton x Reader

Summary: Where Felix inadvertently fingers his estranged cousin.

TW: well... yeah, som pretty strong sex references (and graphics); language; unpremeditated incest

WC: 1.7k

xoxoxxoxoxooxoxoxoxo

"He's been eye-fucking you for the past 15 minutes," muttered your friend, Camilla, next to your ear. At first, you merely winced at her coarse choice of language, but the interest got better of you.

"Who?" you asked, acting as if her words didn't evoke a spark of excitement in your system.

"Felix fucking Catton."

At the mention of the name, you choked on the bubbly champagne that moments before you had got a sip of.

'It was surely not gracious,' you thought.

Not very discreetly, you craned your head, taking in the surrounding while trying to localize... well, you know who. At first, all you could merely distinguish were some voguish gowns mingled with a black-and-white pallet of overpriced tuxes. It was a soiree orchestrated by Elspeth Catton herself. In your society, you knew that when an envelop with the invitation stated "a casual get-together," it was probably just a mock test to see who wasn't acquainted with the social code and etiquette well enough -- Saltburn parties always meant a great deal and you knew this customary footnote by heart.

That's why, a few days before the event, you had made a special reminder in your calendar to venture for some de rigueur gown that what you surely hadn't owned in your wardrobe. Once in the shop, your choice was something relatively simple -- a silky loose black dress on the very thin straps (at the end of the day, it was still August and even the nights were heckishly sweltering) and the elegant pair of heels of the same hue to match the top. Just enough to blend with the rest of the guests. Or so you thought.

"Over here, you dummy." Your friend poked you with her strangely bony elbow, making you gasp slightly but look in the same direction as she did. It required a 180 degree swirl of you to position in the same line as she did, so you were not very obscure with what the two of you were talking about.

That, however, finally allowed you to observe Felix, a two meter sweet little giant who was scrutinizing your every move while pretending to talk to one of the prolix guests. Upon discerning your line of sight, he took it as a silent cue to finally end a chit-chat with the stranger and approach you.

"Hey." He beamed. He made an almost instinctive move of extending his hand as a courteous way of meeting someone, but then rapidly withdrew it, presumably deciding that this kind of pretense was far too official for someone of his own age.

You couldn't help yourself but snort at this swift change of mind. For a moment, you thought that he was going to be offended by your reaction but he shortly joined you in laughter.

"Hey."

"I saw you over there and... God, I'm sorry to say, but you look ravishing."

You could feel an intense blush creeping on your face. "Thank you."

"Felix, by the way," he introduced himself, shoving his hands in the pockets while graciously dwarfing over you. There was something very causal about him; as though he couldn't be affected by the idea of embarrassment. He just innately had his way with other people, perfusing an aura of affability about him.

"I know who you are." You smiled. "Y/N."

He gave you a nod, his sight never abandoning your face. At such intense stare, you couldn't help it but feel scrutinized. With these eyes as your surveillance, you didn't mind though.

You didn't know how long the two of you had been gaping at one another, but it was enough to make your well-forgotten friend grunt beside you a couple of times.

"Camilla, pleased to meet ya," she exclaimed with the feigned enthusiasm and the theatrical hand waving near her face. "And now I'm going to fix myself a drink."

With that, she began to walk fluidly through the cobblestone pavement of the lawn, in the direction of the mansion, but not before twisting her head over her shoulder and mouthing to you 'use protection' with a wink.

You mentally shook your head with humiliation. Many people could have catalogued you as a rather old-fashioned person, if old-fashioned corresponded to not sleeping with guys after just a few hours of acquaintance.

But you also couldn't deny the way of your body reacted to the presence of the brunette beside you. In your head, you compared the size of your hands and how big his were in contrast to yours; you pictured the easiness with which he could pick you up and pin you to the wall; you imagined the softness of his lips which would be juxtaposed with the hungry, parched quality of the kisses that would turn you on...

Call it whatever, but he evoked some new types of kinks in you of which you hadn't been hitherto aware of.

It didn't mean that all of the sudden you were going to ditch the itinerary of your personal rules just because of some attractive, rangy, charismatic, mesmerizing, cute guy. Not to mention his enchanting brown eyes which were doing things to you. But, no, you were going to abide.

Probably.

No! Totally!

Or probably...

xoxoxxoxoxooooxoxox

It took a few hours of a conversation and several more glasses of champagne for you to give in to the utter charm of Felix Catton and his delectable aftershave.

Just as you had thought, Felix was a perfect kind of kisser. At first, he started a tad more slowly, smoothly devouring and exploring every taste bud in your mouth, his tongue graciously dancing in your mouth. For sake of whetting more action from him, you took the matters in your own hands -- one of your hands was gradually working on disheveling his hair, whereas the other one was stroking a chiseled line of his jaw.

The sweet kind kisses ultimately morphed into something of a ravenous nature; Felix was wolfish in his movements, one of his palms already cupping one of your breasts and circling your nipple with his thumb, and the other pinioning both of your arms to the wall. While his mouth was interchangeably traveling from your lips to your neck, leaving the silk tracks of saliva on your neckline, you felt as the surplus amount of pure want and rapture implode within you.

You arched your back, longing to be as close to the heat of Felix's body as possible. One of your legs proceeded around his torso, forcibly bringing him forth to you; surprised by your desperate actions, Felix grunted to which you moaned into his mouth. He smiled at that, never disturbing the kiss. At this point, your hair, which was previously tied in a messy bun, was now soaring in every direction due to the vigor of your movements.

Honestly, you couldn't care less.

"You like that, huh?" breathed Felix through the kisses. While saying so, he made a point of applying extra pressure in molding your breast in his hand.

In response, you merely moaned, Felix attempting his best to subdue the noise with another ferocious kiss. Out of nowhere, he removed one of his palms from your upper body and you were about to protest until you felt him touching the waistband of your lacy panties and then venturing even further. At first, he massaged your already swollen clit with his fingers through the material, simultaneously inspecting the extent of wetness that had pooled underneath.

Entirely relishing the sensation, you began moaning and moaning ever so loudly, eventually even ending up in pleads on how much you needed to feel him inside of you.

Felix solely smirked at your sudden vulnerability but decided to comply after a few more strokes across your sodden line of panties. His index finger started teasing with you but upon hearing your annoyed huffs, he finally put two fingers inside of you. And...

Oh boy. Oh boy, did it feel amazing.

He began with a steady pace but eventually started pumping his fingers faster and faster until you were loudly chanting his name and he too was moaning at your somatic responses to him. While gradually increasing the speed, you had a series of different reactions -- throwing your head backwards, your eyeballs rolling to the back of your head in elation, arching your back to the impossible angles, or incongruously trying to reflect the pace with your hips. Felix's lips were still planting parched kisses on your neck and now slowly descending to-

"Felix." A sonorous female voice echoed in front of you. The two of you instantly broke off, quickly trying to rearrange into a sufficiently seemly state.

"Mom!"

Holy fuck.

She raised her hand on the same level as her face, which was an evident signal to not interrupt her. "I do not care for your sexual affairs, son." She sounded unflappable and so was her expression. Almost too unflappable for a parent who had just caught her child working somebody up. The only evidence that the scene impacted her in the slightest was a scant quality of perturbance in her eyes. "Should it not pertain to your cousin."

Both you and Felix furrowed, and you were pretty sure that your brows reached the level of your hairline for a second. Your reactions would have been purely comical when disregarding the tragic setting of the situation.

"C-cousin?" Felix managed to choke out though the horror of the news.

"Yes," she said. "Although Y/N is not your closest relative, I hope you do realize that there are the family bonds between the two of you..." She then went on with explaining how the two of you happened to be connected, but -- truth to be told -- the whole bubble deeply confused you. And it's not like it mattered anyways.

Felix was your family. He was off-limits.

"I hope that the news of this escapade never comes to the light." With that matter-of-fact manner, she disappeared off the horizon, leaving the two of you throughly mortified.

The only thought that seemed to accompany you at that moment was that you were mutually screwed and there was no taking it back.

Perfect...

#felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix x reader #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi x reader #felix catton #saltburn 2023 #saltburn

[whumpshaped]

i have no excuse. im sorry. but this popped into my head and now it must exist. its not even whump i just. u'll see

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, invasion of privacy

"Don't go in there!" Beck said pleadingly, quickly rushing to stand between Helle and the closed bedroom door. "Please. That's my room. It's– it's private, it's... it's where I sleep–"

"Yes, that is often the purpose of a bedroom." His desperate attempt to stop them clearly backfired, because the vampire looked even more intrigued now. "Are you hiding something horrible? Something embarrassing, perhaps?"

"I'm n-not hiding anything, just... I don't want strangers in my bedroom."

"Strangers?" Helle looked wounded. "How many bites for an acquaintance? Or do you often let strangers bite you?"

"I don't want my acquaintances in my bedroom."

"Very well." They stepped away, sighing. "There is nothing I can do but respect the home owner's wishes."

Technically, I'm renting. He didn't say it, not wanting to give Helle any loopholes to exploit. But he soon realised the vampire didn't need a loophole as he was shoved aside and they marched right in.

"Was that what you were hoping I would say?" came their voice from inside, and Beck ran after them. "Do not be so naive. I said I wanted to explore the house ful– oh. That is adorable."

"Don't touch him!" He wasn't fast enough, of course he wasn't. Before he could do anything, Helle snatched the little thing from his bed, cradling it in their arms.

"What a sweet fellow," they cooed, giving the plush bat the biggest, fondest smile. Beck stayed still, suddenly very nervous about making a move Helle didn't approve of. Would they be so evil as to hurt Boba? "You absolutely cannot tell me you were hiding him. I would be heartbroken."

"I..." He watched as Helle squished the bat a couple times, seemingly enjoying themself greatly. "N-no, I wasn't..."

"Good. What a delight to know that one of my kin has already taken up residence here. Obviously, you are not opposed to housing creatures of the night."

Housing? "Y-you don't want to stay, do you?" he stammered, still anxious about his vulnerable friend being held by such a monster. Helle glanced up and shot him a mischievous grin.

"What if I do?" They nodded towards the stuffed animal. "Does he have a name, by any chance?"

Beck bit his lip. This was so stupid. Why were they asking about a plushie he had? Why couldn't they just be disinterested? "Boba," he muttered eventually.

"Would you really deprive sweet Boba of appropriate company?"

"You are not appropriate company. Boba has no ties to you or any vampire." Oh god, this was such a stupid argument to have. But he just wanted to have this one thing, the little piece of joy that still remained in his life even with the constant pain and paranoia. Couldn't they even let him have that?

"You sadden me." They gently placed the toy on the bed where they'd found it, and Beck snatched it up immediately, holding it close to his chest. "But no, I do not intend to stay for long. Possibly a few hours." Their smile softened as they looked at him; Beck would've almost described it as sympathetic. "Dear Boba is safe from my evil ways. I promise."

The vampire rarely ever made promises, that was one thing Beck realised about them very early on... nor were they particularly trustworthy. But this time, they seemed sincere. He hesitantly nodded, still holding the bat tight. "Thank you."

Maybe... maybe Helle still had some semblance of humanity left in them.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #invasion of privacy

[yoichew]

───── three is better than one, that means thrice the charm!

cw. mikage reo x reader. fluff. no gender or pronouns for reader are mentioned. intentional lowercase. first meeting? he's a little mean at first but trust, he's a lover boy. reader is portrayed to be clumsy, or a loser, maybe we are all losers compared to the man reo is. not proofread, might have mistakes. 850 wordcount.

reo mikage is a man often spoken of. he's rich, maybe famous, he's friendly, charming, ambitious— hell, if you wanted, you could list his qualities and it'd go on and on. in fact, if perfect was attainable, he would have been the embodiment of it. and he's well aware of it, really. which is probably why his face slightly scrunches in disgust instictively when he sees you falling on your face on the way to the café he was heading to.

uncoordinated and dumb, who the hell would be so... reo sighs internally, quite shocked— the man acts like everyone is flawless, somewhat, like him. yet, being the gentleman he is, he walks up to you, your fallen form.

he's sweet, your first thought, as he lowers into a crouch, infront of you, offering his hand to you— his touch gentle, or it's just you— then effortlessly helping you up. it'd probably go much different if you were aware of his initial reaction, but thankfully you weren't. because the man seems to be dumbfounded once again. shit. you're actually oddly, alluring.

it's stupid, if you think about it. he literally winced at the sight of you tripping a few seconds ago, yet now he's looking at you, someone he just met, like you're some angel that fell, literally, from heaven— just with a bit of rubble on their face.

and you're confused. since you're about to pull your hand away from his to wipe off the small remains of debris on your shirt, yet you feel how he doesn't let go. how your hand is resting on his— you think he's acting like some prince charming, though it's quite endearing. how he doesn't even have a grip on you, and how you could take your hand back if you wanted, but you'd rather not, because it's like he wouldn't dare retreat his hand, as if he'd rather stay like this, hand in hand, with you.

the only thing pulling him, well, the both of you, out of some trance you we're both in, is some white haired guy, probably his acquaintance, you think— as you listen to the guy refer to your "knight in shining armor" as reo.

you stifle a laugh as you watch reo blink a few times, bashfully retreating his hand— as it now nervously scratches the back of his head. and how his friend looks at him in shock, probably because this was a look reo would've never shown. but you don't know that, and even if you did, you'd have the same thoughts you have now. he's cute.

with the same hand, reo makes a fist, covering his mouth with it as he coughs awkwardly, straightening whatever he was wearing— maybe, maybe wanting to make an impression on you. and he feels it works, as you smile— lovely, if he doesn't say so himself— mumbling a "thank you." as if he couldn't get any more confident, he does, as if he just knows you're about to ask for his number, until you turn around, about to go on with your day—leaving him stunned, for the third time today. reo scoffs under his breath.

before he lets out a soft puff, before chasing behind you— well, just a few steps really, you didn't get that far, as if you were intentionally taking your time.

"wait!" he exhales— him cringing at how meek his voice came out. but good for him, the world must be in favor of him at the moment, you heard it. and you turn around, seeing him stand before you— he looks like a mess, well just to you, a mess for you. nah, he's actually quite composed, but hey, it's alright to dream.

"mikage, mikage reo." he mumbles, is he shy? "go out with me?" nevermind, not shy, he sounds like i'd say yes. usually it'd be smarter to say no, afterall, he is a stranger, a very obviously bold and straightforward one. yet it'd be hard to ignore the way your heart thumps at the warm feeling this guy gives you. so you laugh, lightheartedly— in a way that reo knows he's won— letting him take out his phone from his pocket, typing as you recite your number— and you swear, even if you don't see it, you can practically feel his smirk. and also the fact that in the corner of your eye, you notice his friend in the near distance rolling his eyes and smiling, slightly.

"well, i'll wait for your message, mikage." you hum, spinning on your heel, continuing your way— he gets you all giddy, honestly. and it'd be hard for you to stay calm and collected in his presence any longer.

he wishes you would've called him reo. but who knows, right? plus, you do still have yet to realize he's the son of quite a well-known multi billionare, and that he's also quite awfully head over heels for you, smiling to himself— forgetting about the coffee he was supposed to get himself, and the treat his friend deserved after sort off being his wingman, in his own way.

#reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff #yoichewrites #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x gender neutral reader #reo mikage fluff #reo mikage x you #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x you #mikage reo x y/n