#I had a pleasant conversation with someone and then they don’t make the first step for our next conversation

[jean-thecrazyone]

THIS close to asking everybody for a rating and a review after every conversation I have

[rezwrites]

Hi! Love your writing!!

I have a suggestion/request:

So, reader is a lesbian married to someone their own age, but Dark Agatha wants reader to herself, and knows there are things only she can make them feel.

Mommy/dom/corrupting and stuff

Thanksss

I’m glad you enjoy the works!

Warnings: +18 MDNI, dub-con, infidelity/cheating, corruption, cursing, strap-on, deepthroating, rough sex

Setting the dirty clothes basket on top of the dryer tossing each article of clothing into the washing machine, you came across one of your wife’s collared shirts with plum wine lipstick stain on the collar, a pair of pink lace underwear balled up inside the shirt. This couldn’t be happening, you didn’t think your marriage was bad for your wife to cheat. Tears started forming in your eyes, heart sinking to your stomach.

“Baby! I’m home!” your wife’s cheery voice called from the front door. Stepping out of the laundry room you see her placing the grocery bags on the table, her dirty blonde hair released from her braid framing her face. The giant smile on her face immediately dropping when she sees your tears, rushing to you.

“Abby.” chewing your bottom lip, showing her the articles of clothing, “please be honest with me.”

“Baby,” her blue eyes widening like saucers, mouth open, “I swear on my life I don’t know where those came from. The lipstick stain is just as much a mystery.”

“Abs, I have no reason to doubt you but this; I can’t wrap my head around this.” Pulling a chair from the table, you took a seat putting your head in your hands. Abby followed suit pulling a chair next to you.

“I’m at work all day and when i’m not there I’m here with you.” She pulled your hands away from your face, holding them, “I haven’t been with anybody else, I swear.”

The rest of the night was full of silence, you’re still coming up with illogical scenarios outside cheating to figure out where the stain and panties came from, none of them obviously not making sense. Abby knows not to disturb you when you’re too deep in thought, though some part of you wished she did so you could stop spiraling internally. That night you both slept with your back towards each other. It hurt to not hold each other.

Waking up early unable to go back to sleep you decided go into work. Quitely getting dressed you headed down stairs. Making a simple breakfast, you set an extra plate of eggs and toast beside for Abby when she woke up.

“You can’t leave without hugging me first.” Abby’s tired voice startled you, her eyes red. You didn’t even hear her come down the stairs. She stood at the bottom of the stairs holding her arms outstretched, a deep frown etched into her features. Abby’s warm, strong arms wrapped around you, the woody scent of her cologne still lingering on her shirt. She kissed your forehead repeating sorries. You leaned up shutting her up with a kiss, whispering I love you against her lips before heading out. You texted her about her breakfast on the counter before driving to work.

—

Working away on this quarterly report the CEO’s assistant dialed your line informing that the would like to see you in her office, stressing you to hurry. Walking to the elevators, your nervousness elevated with each passing floor. You’ve only seen Ms. Harkness a handful of times when you sat in on a board meeting, and at holiday parties for the company, each fleeting conversation you’ve had with her had been pleasant. The doors opened on the top floor, the hard silver floor echoing with every step you took. The receptionist directed you to the office, pointing towards the imposing double doors at the end of the corridor.

Knocking on the black granite door, you heard a muffled come in. Entering the CEO's office, your eyes were immediately drawn to the breathtaking view of the city skyline through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was filled with the soft, warm glow of natural sunlight. The room exuded an air of authority and sophistication, making you feel both privileged and slightly intimidated.

Ms. Harkness gestured for you to sit in the plush, leather armchair. The coolness of the smooth, polished surface of the mahogany desk sent a shiver down your spine. Sharp and straight-to-the-point Ms Harkness pointedly asked, “You’ve worked as the assistant CFO for how long now?”

“Three years next month, Ma’am.” you responded, subconsciously cracking your knuckles to ease your anxiousness.

“And in that short time your reports have excelled our company. Your clear, concise statements show us where we need to improve and decrease our operations. Now, I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging but I made a great decision hiring you. In my professional opinion you’d do better as CFO than an assistant.” Her voice grew proud as she praised you. A grin on her face, as she sat up straightening out her bronze blazer.

Your body warmed at the praise she dished out, lightly squirming underneath her bold gaze, “That’s a huge responsibility, Ms.Harkness, but I thank you for the kind words, and I’m very grateful for the opportunity to gain so much experience and knowledge in such a short time.”

She laughed at your formality, “Please just call me Agatha, dear. I apologize if I frightened you with the sudden call here. I actually wanted to commended you on your wonderful work, and take you out to lunch to get to know you better.”

—

The elegant restaurant had dimly lit chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, casting a low, golden glow over the room. Soft classical music played in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling steaks and freshly baked bread. Feeling severely underdressed in your simple above-the-knee dress you attempted to cover yourself as you awaited a table.

“No need to fret,” Agatha guided you in front of her to follow the hostess, leaning down as you passed her, whispering in your ear, “you look exquisite.”

Sitting down on the smooth, velvet booth the soft fabric brushing the back of your knees and shoulders. The hostess hands you the menus notifying you that your waitress will be with you shortly, “Velvet upholstery? That’s in interesting choice. It must take a lot to clean if wine is spilled.”

“I think they keep up maintenance every night.” She responded, eyes locked onto the menu.

The waitress comes to your table asking for drinks. Agatha requested, “Two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc, please. Our order will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Wine in the middle of the day?” You chuckled nervously.

“Why not? I’m letting you go home early anyway.” She caught your eyes bulging as you lowered the menu, “Only if you wish to. I know you came in early. I’m sure you’ve been working diligently all morning, you deserve it.”

The waitress comes back with two glasses. Agatha pours you both a glass, toasting each other to a nice lunch. Taking sip you note acidity mixed with gooseberry and white peach. There’s so many options on the menu, they overwhelmed you, way out of your comfort zone.

“This wine pairs well with light seafood or chicken.” Agatha chimed-in, eyes focusing back on the menu, “Have you decided yet or do you need another minute?

“I decided to play it safe with the Chicken Alfredo.” you folded the menu handing it to Agatha, relieved that they had your safe food.

When the waitress returned Agatha had ordered for both of you, getting herself Halibut Ceviche. Agatha reminds you of Abby this way, a woman who knows what she wants and takes charge. You would actually love to surprise Abby on a date here one night, it would be a nice gift after she’d dealt with her rambunctious students all day.

“Dear? What’s with that frown?” Her eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed you were frowning reaching for the stem of your wine glass.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” you dismissed. You hadn’t noticed you were frowning reaching for the stem of your wine glass.

“Come on.” She places her hand over yours offer you a reassuring smile, “It’s okay to tell me.” Agatha makes it easy to talk to her outside of work, seeping such a comforting air.

“I think my wife is or was cheating.” You stared at your wine, unable to look her in the eyes.

“Well, what happened?” She folded her fingers resting her chin on them, azure eyes watching your every move.

“There was a lipstick stain on the collar of her shirt.” You opted to leave out the panties out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t yours?” She pried, taking another sip wine.

“No, I don’t particularly like dark lipstick colors. And I’d think I’d remember staining my wife’s collar.” You realized the bite in your tone, “sorry.”

“Hmm,” she squinted her eyes at you, you could see her thinking, “While I honestly can’t give you any advice besides trying to talk it out with her. I can tell you that whatever you need I’ll help you however I can.” She squeezed your hand, the food arriving at your table.

She turned to conversation to more pleasant topics. Agatha told you stories about her early college days. Once she got mad at one of her professors for contradicting herself too many times during a lesson. Agatha had given her the finger, written fuck you on the board and left, never taking the class for the rest of the semester. Both of your sides hurting from laughing to hard, “I ended up taking the class again in my last year. Under a different professor, of course.”

You felt bad having Agatha pay the bill even though she offered, so you covered the tip. Returning to the office everyone stared at you as Agatha escorted you to your office. Exchanging personal numbers, Agatha expressed again that she would be available to you day and night.

—

“You’re home late.” Noting as Abby walked through the door hanging her laptop bag on the hook.

“I’m sorry, baby. We had a curriculum meeting that ran late.” She came up behind you hands on your waist. Peppering kisses on your neck, peering over your shoulder watching you scoop the meat into the bell peppers, “Dinner smells delicious.”

“It’s turkey-quinoa stuffed bell peppers, it just needs to go in the oven for twenty minutes.” You moved to place the pan in the oven, afterwards turning towards her pecking her on the cheek, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner.”

You giggle as Abby raves about dinner while telling you about finger painting with her kids at work and how she almost fell asleep in the meeting. After dinner she cleans the kitchen as you set up a movie marathon for you both to wind down from the day. Abby sits beside you bringing you closer to her warm body. Although there’s still a sliver of doubt in the back of your mind, you were content snuggling, watching movies together.

After a while Abby got up to use to the restroom, leaving her phone by you. It lights up repeatedly, you really didn’t want to look, wanting to trust your wife, but the hearts in the messages caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

「I miss you babe. I had a great time today😘

I can’t wait to see you again❤️❤️❤️

I got that thing for us to try😉 」

“What the fuck!” Shouting, you grabbed her phone.

“What’s wro-” Abby came back down the hallway only for her phone to collided with her chest, startling her. Desperately, she reached out grabbing it, jaw dropping at the screen. You’re fuming, face contorting with such an intensity she’d never seen before.

“No bullshit, Abigail! Explain that!” Glaring at her, tears blurring your vision.

“I don’t know that number! She balled and unballed her fist, visibly trying to keep her tears at bay, “I swear, I would never cheat on you.” You both went back and forth. An argument turned screaming match, loud enough to shake the pictures on the wall.

Stopping yourself mid sentence, you dropped your shoulders, staring at her, “I can’t stay here tonight.” Rushing out of the house, you ignored her pleas.

Pulling into a gas station you sit and collect your thoughts, feebly attempting to hold yourself together as your phone rings, “Ms. Harkness, would it be possible if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course, dear, not a problem at all.” Her honeyed voice acted as a light in the dark, “I’m sending you the address now.”

—

Agatha was already waiting outside when you pulled in the driveway. The faint scent of fresh flowers wafts through the house, adding a touch of nature. As you sink into the luxurious leather sofa, you feel the softness enveloping you, providing utmost comfort.

“I love her. I thought she loved me, I just can’t believe that she’d do this.” Breaking down into sobs Agatha cradled you in her arms, not saying a word, rubbing your back letting you get it all out. Once your sobs subsided into sniffles Agatha titled your chin up, her warm lips falling on yours. Face twisting in shock, you pushed her away, “We can’t-”

“Don’t.” A tight grip on your jaw kept you from getting too far away, ”I know you need this.” She pulled you in for another kiss, this time rougher and more disorienting. Wrong, this was so wrong. Not only are you dealing with a fallout with your wife but she’s your boss.

Agatha slipped her tongue past your lips moving slow, enjoying the feeling of your mouth, occasionally coming back to lick your tongue. You hated to admit that you did need this. Months without sex left you pent up, something coming up each time you two try. You couldn’t even recall the last time your wife kissed you with such wanton desire.

“Come back to me, doll.” Smiling when your eyes focused back her, she couldn’t wait to ravage you. Picking you up she wrapped your thighs around her waist, walking to her bedroom.

Depositing you onto her plush queen-sized bed, draped in smooth satin sheets that shimmer in the soft light. The satin sheets cool and silky against your hot skin. She walked over to the adjoining bathroom ordering over shoulder, “I want your clothes off by the time I’m back.”

You know you shouldn’t but the ache in between your legs was too much. Not enough to keep you here, this has gone far enough already. Shaking your head you started to move off the bed to leave.

“I gave you an order, little girl.” Agatha stood at the edge of the bed naked, and arms crossed. You paled at the strap hanging from her jutting hips. She lowered her voice, leaning forward on the bed, “Take your clothes off.”

“Now!” She raised her voice at your hesitation, gaze hardening. Not wanting to anger her further, you quickly stripped. She stood back up tapping her hip, “Come get it wet.”

With a hitch in your breath you crawled over to her. Getting closer you noticed the purple undertone of her cock in the light. Dragging your tongue across the head of the strap you could see her stomach tensing. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving her cock deeper, “You look beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”

You choked, the tip of her cock hitting the back of your throat. She pulled back before throughly fucking your throat, your nose touching her harness. Unable to look up at her shame and arousal growing in your core, as your head bobbed up and down over her shaft. Gripping at her thighs to hold yourself steady, tears began to brim your eyes.

“Look at you.” Agatha heaved, pulling you off of her, smearing your spit on your face, “my messy girl.” She pushed you down on your back, hovering over you, her hand falling over your cunt, “I don’t think I needed you to suck me off, your cunt is dripping.”

“Does she tell you how sexy you are?” Pressing chaste kisses to your neck and chest as she slipped herself inside your cunt. Mewling, arching your back as her cock sunk deeper into your depths, your eyes rolling back.

“Not lately.” you sighed.

“Not lately.” she scoffed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I’d be sure to tell you every damn day.” She accentuates each word with a thrust. She picked up her pace, fully bottoming out.

Whining as her thumb drew over your clit, it hit you embarrassingly quick how close you were. Agatha suddenly pulled out, and flipped you on all fours. Nudging you further up the bed she pulled your hips towards hers.

Pushing herself back inside, her hand snaked under your chest holding your jaw again. Sweat mingling with hers as she laid her body on top of yours, her hips pistoning into yours. Agatha’s husky voice reached your ears, “Can she make you feel like this? Give you this deep pleasure?”

“I bet she’s so afraid of getting a strap or toys.” she chuckled, dropping her tone again, “I want you to think of your sweet wife and tell yourself the truth. That she only satisfies the surface, not the deep primal need you have to get fucked ruthlessly like an animal.”

Moaning as she dug her nails into your hips, driving her cock deep and fast into depths. Your arms felt like jelly, giving out you fell to your chest. Biting your bottom lip you tried to keep your tears from forming.

Agatha’s thrusts slowed down to a halt, lazily rubbing your clit. The grip on your jaw tightened, possibly leaving bruises. Agatha growled out, “Tell yourself, doll.”

Fisting the sheets, your salty tears fell on your lips, crying out, “No! She can’t make me feel this good!”

She grunted pushing herself closer against you, returning to her previous speed. Fucking you breathless, each touch of hers set your body alight. You sobbed as your body shook underneath her, cunt clenching around her cock. Agatha fucked you mercilessly through your orgasm, sucking harshly at the crook of your neck, working herself through her own orgasm.

Pride swelled in Agatha’s chest as she watched your body collapse on the bed, your pussy glistening. Slipping away to toss the strap into the bathroom sink, she returned to find you curled in on yourself, the sheets halfway covering your body. Laying behind you she reached for her phone on the nightstand, the newest message read:

「 I don’t know who you are but you may have just ruined my marriage!! 」

Putting her phone back down she smiled to herself, she definitely knows she destroyed your marriage. Your cries dissolved into sniffles as Agatha traced patterns along your spine. She knows there’s many emotions going through you in your post-orgasm clarity.

Maybe-no you had acted rash. Your chest tightened at the thought of how you’re going to confront your wife after this. Sobs bubbled up in your chest again, full of regret, shame, and guilt. Sitting up to grab your clothes, lithe fingers wrapped around your bicep, pulling you back down. Agatha covered your body with hers, settling her smooth thigh against your sticky cunt.

A devilish smile on her face, “We’re both taking off work tomorrow.”

[sencrose]

— TEAR ME DOWN

part of the bully!naoya collection

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags: noncon, tentacles, sex pollen, degradation (use of slut/bitch), humiliation, exhibitionism?, dacryphilia, creampie, overstimulation, pwp, brief mention of death

summary: Having Naoya come to your rescue has its consequences.

a/n: please read the tags before diving in. nao is horrible and mean as always. <3 wrote this in a caffeinated frenzy bc of course i did. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

crossposted to ao3

You’ve pissed someone off. That has to be it. What was the offending act? You’re not too sure. But you know it’s gotten you somewhere you don’t want to be: alone on a mission with Naoya.

The tension is thick, almost palpable with the silence shared between the two of you. He doesn’t seem to be one for small talk, not that you think he’d be a pleasant conversationalist. 

Today’s mission takes place in a cave off the shore, a common place for teens and drunk partiers to partake in a test of courage. The water’s calm at this time of night. The only sound that fills your ears is the crunch of sand underneath your shoes and waves gently running onto shore before fizzling away as it recedes. Maybe you’d be one for long walks on the beach if it wasn’t with a special grade one asshole. 

“What’s the plan?” you finally ask.

“Plan?” he asks back with a very irritated tone to his voice, as if he’s talking to a child. At this point you’re ready to hunt down whichever shitty higher-up forced you on this mission in the first place. 

“Yeah?” you reply back, dumbfounded. Despite all his talents and prestige, you would assume he had something, anything in mind. Maybe you expected too much. 

“Kill the curse and go,” he says simply, as if speaking it deems it true. Part of you wonders how many missions and curses does one have to defeat to amass that type of confidence? But then you remember who you’re talking to and come to the conclusion that he’s mostly just a cocky asshole. 

“You’re not setting down a veil?”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow at you in annoyance. “Why would you need one? It’ll go down in a second anyways.”

Well, you were right about him being unpleasant to talk to. The rest of the walk is silent until you make it to the cave, neither of you particularly enthused to reanimate the conversation. The two of you follow the dark passage, illuminated by a line of suspiciously lit torches. The sound of water along the shore slowly diminishes until it’s replaced with wet drips from the condensation running off the stalactites.

As you make it deeper into the cave it gets warmer, against your expectations. 

“Something isn’t right.”

“Yeah, no shit. That’s why we’re here,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. 

Your pace slows as you make it further in, carefully taking the time to examine the environment around you. The cave only gets hotter, the scent of something floral lingering in the air. As you take another step, something slick and wet rubs against your leg.

“Zenin,” you whisper, quickly lifting your foot up from the water to confirm nothing is on it, “did you feel that?”

“No,” he scoffs again, as if anything you say has no value to him, “it’s probably some seaweed or something.” 

All your senses are on high alert, but Naoya looks as unphased as can be. If anything, he looks annoyed that the cursed spirit hasn’t bothered to come out yet. 

The temperature is too much for you to handle, as you take off your jacket to throw it over your shoulder just for a little bit of respite. Sweat starts to bead on your skin as you do your best to keep yourself cool, flicking away the droplets and fanning yourself. 

And just a moment later, there’s a bit of pressure on your shoulder before your jacket is whipped off of you. 

“Oh, come on,” you groan. 

“Why the complaining?” he coos, smiling as he takes in the view of your bare arms and shoulders, “this is the best you’ve looked all night.”

“Pig.”

“Bitch.”

Rolling your eyes, you continue forward, jacketless and irritated. Maybe you let your emotions get the best of you, huffing and aimlessly traveling deeper until you realize you’re alone. The heat is unbearable, pierces through your skin and rushes down to your core at the worst possible moment. 

Everything happens all at once, too quickly for you to react in time. Something grabs your legs and holds them tight before spreading them apart. Another slick appendage appears, forcefully pulling at the placket of your blouse until the buttons pop off and the fabric tears apart with a crisp rip. You attempt to break free from its grasp, wrapping every ounce of cursed energy you can muster into your fingertips, only for more slimy tendrils to appear and restrain you. 

You’ve lost count of how many tentacles are holding you apart as another creeps up your thigh winding around your flesh like a vine. The end of it pulls on the hem of your skirt, adding more force to it until the fabric tears. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you thrash around to no avail. If anything, all your struggling only helps the appendages grab a better hold of your body, one of them wriggling down to your clothed pussy. It slowly slips under your underwear, and you flinch at the intrusion. 

The floral scent from earlier returns, much stronger than before. It fills your lungs until it’s too much, making your head feel light and dizzy. Your skin burns hot with every breath in, a burning want growing in your cunt. Before you know it, your body is acting on its own, desperately rutting your hips into the tentacle’s grip to relieve the growing tension in your core.

“I take back what I said earlier, this is the best you’ve looked all night.” You barely notice Naoya when he finally finds you, looking with amusement in his eyes, a sick grin on his face at your state of undress.

“Oh fuck off,” you’re barely able to get out, and even when you do it doesn’t have nearly as much bite as you want it to. You sound tamed — defanged and declawed. 

“Alright then, if that’s what you want.” He casually shrugs and turns on his heel to walk away — and he does. Casually so. The bastard is really about to leave you high and dry. 

“No, no! Zenin, get me out of here!” Your voice isn’t something you recognize, morphing into something softer, whinier with every passing moment. 

Naoya turns back, steps just a bit closer to you and crosses his arms together. “I will if you ask nicely. Maybe you should start with being a bit more respectful, huh?”

Any dignity you have left is thrown out the window, not that you have much left to begin with. So you drum up the sweetest voice you can muster through gritted teeth, because at least you’ll only have to do it once if you do it right, and plead to the best of your ability, “Zenin-kun, get me out of here, won’t you?”

“Kun? Didn’t think we were friends. I was thinking something more like Zenin-sama,” he sneers with a shit-eating grin, “you can do that, can’t you?”

Salvation is so close, he dangles it in front of you like a carrot for a rabbit. Before you can ask again, something wet pokes and prods at your entrance, earning a drawn out whine from you. You can only watch in horror while Naoya’s eyes sparkle in amusement as the appendage slips into your hole with little resistance. 

The curse wriggles unnaturally inside as it fills you up, choked moans escaping you the more access it gains. Your head’s a mess, filled with cotton as you can barely manage to string a thought together. Another appendage reaches for your clit, flicking at the bundle of nerves before the tip opens and clamps onto it. The intensity of it is too much in too little time as you scream and writhe from the sensation.

The moment a tentacle aims for Naoya, he simply touches it using his technique and it freezes. He shakes his hand to get rid of the slick before commenting, “Ugh, gross. Can’t believe you’re letting this thing touch you. Didn’t think you were such a slut.”

It’s humiliating seeing him watch from a distance, the cursed spirit not even bothering to go for him again and instead focusing its assault on you. It’s all brand new to you, the feeling of being so stuffed, having your clit sucked on so aggressively. All of this leads to something feverish building in your core, one you don’t want to acknowledge, especially in front of the likes of Naoya.

“N-Naoya, please just kill the damn thing,” you mutter between labored breaths, hoping he’ll finally bother to fulfill your request.

“First name basis now are we? Maybe if you add the -sama to the end of that I’ll consider it.”

You try, you really do, but the moment the words dance on your tongue all you can let out is a choked moan. Speaking gets harder by the moment, your body overwhelmed by being fucked by the cursed spirit, its appendages wrapping around your tits and teasingly flicking at your nipples. 

“Better hurry. Damned thing might just fuck you to death for all I know,” he scoffs. 

You can only imagine how pitiful you look. Drool leaking from your mouth as the cursed spirit treats you like its plaything, tentacles roughly squirming about and pulsating in and out of your pussy. And despite it all, something molten grows in your core, begging to be released. 

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to get the words out. 

“N-Naoya-sama, please help me.” It’s the most pathetic you’ve ever sounded, tears running down your face, voice hushed and laced with desperation. 

“Now was that so hard?” he coos, pouting at the end of his question just to rub it in your face. 

“Please, please, please,” you plead, and you’re not sure what for – for him to save you or for that coil in your stomach to finally snap.  

“You’re a lot cuter when you know your place, you know that?”

You take your eyes off Naoya for a moment and you lose track of him. It only takes a minute for him to make quick work of the cursed spirit. While you can’t see him, you can feel the impact of his blows through the creature. Appendages disappear one by one as you slowly regain control of your own body.

Whether Naoya purposefully saves the tendril sucking your clit for last, you can’t definitively say, but you wouldn't be surprised either. Curses spill from your lips as you can’t hold yourself back any longer, the tension in your body finally snapping with an all-consuming intensity. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, like you’ve lost all control of your body – legs quivering and walls fluttering around nothing. You barely recognize the moans that fall from your lips. When the last tentacle finally disappears, you nearly topple over yourself from the release of its grip.  

Any considerate human being would offer something to make you half decent, but it’s Naoya, so the first words to leave his mouth are less than kind to say the least.

“What kinda sorcerer are you? Gettin’ off to a cursed spirit. Disgusting,” he teases. 

“Fuck you,” you spit back, just a bit of your fight restored in you.

“I bet that’s what you want, huh?” he asks, taking a step towards you to encroach on your personal space.

“Back off, Zenin. I’m fucking tired of your shit.” You attempt to recollect yourself and stand, only for your legs to give out on you. Everything feels gelatinous and wobbly, the muscles in your legs, the thoughts running through your head, the breaths shakily expelling from your lungs. 

“Really? Is that why you got yourself all fucked out for me?” Naoya squats down to look at you with a smirk that has your blood boiling.

"What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re the one that got off to this shit,” he sounds incredulous, as if you’re the one being audacious right now. His expression morphs into something darker as he takes in the sight of you – eyes leering up and down, tracing every curve of your body. “Bet you still need more.”

It’s the last thing you want, especially at the hands of someone like him. But you don’t get the chance to think about it further, rough arms wrapping around you in an instant, his hand digging into your thighs and kneading the flesh.

“Get off of me!” you yell, attempting to thrash about but Naoya’s hold on you is steady. 

“Why? I’m being nice,” he grunts while wrangling you in, “just trying to help out an ungrateful bitch like yourself.”

The heat of his body against yours burns, and you realize that maybe the soon to be heir isn’t as infallible as you think he is. He’s only human after all. That being said, he’s still the last person you want to be in this situation with, and even without the addition of whatever substance the curse excreted in the air, you wouldn’t put it past the bastard to get hard from watching you suffer. 

The sound of fabric shifting fills your ears, something hot and hard pressing against the small of your back, before the sensation disappears for a second. When it reappears, it’s a lot lower than before, his cock slipping between your wet folds in a way that makes you bite your lips back. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, attempting to break out of his hold again. 

“Stop fucking moving,” he grumbles as he pokes and prods at your wet hole.

“I will when you get off me,” you quip back. His grip around you tightens and your body seizes for a moment. It’s humiliating how easy it is for Naoya to push himself into you with little resistance, all wet and prepped from the cursed spirit that had its way with you. Even worse that you moan when you feel him bottom out.

“Stop, stop, stop-” you cry, but you’re back to sounding whinier, melting and falling victim to whatever drug the spirit pumped into your lungs. 

“Should tell your pussy to stop sucking me in then,” he jeers, punctuating the end of his sentence with a deep thrust that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

It shouldn’t feel this good, but there’s that undeniable tension building in your stomach as he ruts into you like an animal. The sound of skin-to-skin slapping echoes throughout the cave, only broken up by your whimpers and choked cries. Every drag of his cock against your plush walls adds to your pleasure, even though you want to deny it so badly. It all builds to a head when Naoya finds that spot that has you louder than before, unable to control the volume of your voice. He’s mean, bullies it relentlessly like it’s target practice. 

Every ounce of holding back goes out the window as you cum and gush all over his cock, crying as ecstasy runs its course through your body. All of your nerves burn white hot, your muscles painfully tight as Naoya fucks you through it, even with your walls constricting and squeezing around him. 

“Shit, you’re into this, aren’t you?” he growls into your ear, the warmth of his breath making you wince.

“N-no, I’m not,” you reply back, voice warbly and shaky much like your conviction. You sound nowhere close to convincing. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he laughs and you swear you can hear the smile on his face. 

There’s no time to recover from your previous orgasm, Naoya doesn’t give you that privilege. Your body simply tightens up again even more than before, your muscles a taut knot waiting for the threads to snap from the tension.

“S-Stop ‘s too much,” you beg, the pleasure from before slowly building into a dull burn as Naoya pushes himself deeper into you.

He seems to take offense to your comment, pressing your face onto the cold slab of stone as a means of silencing any kind of protest.

“Should be thanking me, letting you cum on a real cock,” he spits, and the mention of cumming makes your walls clench around him. The way your body reacts to his words makes it feel like it isn’t yours, as if a stranger has taken control and turned the dial for rational thought to zero. 

“Cumming again? Can feel you getting tight on me,” he teases, making the extra effort to push into you deeper until you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. 

“No, no, I can’t,” you cry, and you really believe it, with how worn out your body feels, how he breaks it down more with every passing moment. 

“Bet you can,” he groans before slamming into you harder and faster than before. 

With his rugged pace it doesn’t take long for that tension to finally snap. When it finally does, your body trembles uncontrollably as that sweet warm pleasure bursts in your core. Your climax makes its way through you like a dying star – explosive, intense, and far too short-lived. 

Even still, Naoya doesn’t relent, frying out your nerves and sending you straight into overstimulation. Pain floods in soon after, building on top of itself until it’s too much to ignore. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing and panting, choking on your tears as you desperately wish for him to finish already. The cries only get louder as the pain intensifies, throbbing in your walls with each pass of his cock. 

To your surprise, he turns your head to face him, if only to drink in your pitiful expression. The way he looks at you with crazed lust in his eyes as he slams his hips into yours just makes the tears fall faster, serving as another reminder that he’s the last person you want to be with. You don’t want to think about how he cums soon after – not that you have to – as your head blanks out when he buries himself to the hilt before painting your insides with hot, sticky ropes of white.

Naoya takes a moment to savor the sensation of having himself balls deep inside you before finally pulling out, and you wince when your pussy continues to convulse around nothing. 

You just need a moment. Some time to recollect your thoughts. And for once, Naoya gives you what you want, though you know it’s not on purpose. Casually gathers himself and leaves you there. 

When you’re finally alone and lucid enough to string together a coherent thought, there’s only one thing running through your head – you hope the higher ups don’t send you on mission with him again.

[ladycaramelswirl]

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader ❤︎ Chapter 1: Apparently you have a magnet for shitty bosses

series masterlist

A/N: For plot purposes, Haley is not in the picture, but Jack does appear later in the story. Also I gave Strauss some of Linda Barnes’s personality so she’s really annoying :)

Tags/Warnings: mentions of violence typical to Criminal Minds. This becomes a comedy in chapter 2, but chapter 1 is very world/character-buildy, sorry 😭 It gets funnier I swear 🤡

The case in this chapter is loosely based on s3e8.

word count: 2k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Absolutely not���.

The dark-haired man tries to rein in his barely concealed anger at his boss, who, honestly, you weren’t exactly a huge fan of right now either. He gestures to you.

“I don’t know anything about her. It’s my job to decide whether someone is a good fit for the team”, he scowls. Frankly, you’re impressed that he hasn’t exploded.

“Agent Hotchner, I have hired her because I think she’s perfectly capable of doing the job”. 

You swallow a scoff. Sure. That’s why.

“My decision is final. And you have a case to get to”, Strauss snaps.

Agent Hotchner glares at her as she walks away. Then he turns his stare to you. 

“We’re leaving for a case in 10 minutes. Do you have your go bag?”, he asks, not unkindly.

“Yes sir.”

He nods and walks towards the BAU bullpen. You follow him. 

“I trust you’ll keep this altercation between us”, he tells you. “I don’t want the team to be distracted”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Just call me Hotch.”

“Yes, s- Hotch”.

He’s being pretty nice given the situation he’s been put in. But you wonder, not for the first time today, if you should have turned down this job.

————————————

15 minutes ago

“Come in”.

You step into the office of the blonde woman you’d interviewed with. She had been quite pleasant then.

“Assistant Director Strauss”, you greet her.

“Agent. Take a seat. I’d like to discuss some things before I introduce you to your unit chief”.

You wonder what the unit chief is like. You’d heard great things about Aaron Hotchner from your former colleagues. 

“As I’m sure you know this position at the BAU is a highly coveted opportunity”, she starts.

“Yes ma’am”.

“I’d like you to be comfortable here, so I hope we can work together to make that happen”.

Oh?

“Thank you ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent! I’ll be expecting an additional personal report for all of your cases.”

“I’m sorry?”

She smiles at you like you’re stupid.

“Agent Hotchner might run a tight ship, but it’s my job to make sure it runs smoothly”, she tells you. “So I just need you to give me details about your cases. No need to mention it to Agent Hotchner, just write the report and send it straight to me.”

“You want me to report on the team? Without telling them?”

This was not what you signed up for.

She laughs mirthlessly. 

“It’s just a report agent. Think of it as a … peer evaluation. I just want to make sure there’s no issues. I’m sure you would understand. Especially after what happened in Houston?”

You grit your teeth. Of course she knew.

“Yes ma’am”.

You try to smile.

“I knew I was right to hire you”, she says. 

You both know you’re only here because she was the only one who accepted your transfer request. 

“Agent. If this conversation leaves this room, you’ll have to understand why I can no longer keep you on this team”.

Fantastic. You were already getting threatened on your first day. 

You plaster on a smile.

“Of course.”

She smiles back, just as fake.

“Great. Now I’ll introduce you to Agent Hotchner. You’ll have to forgive him for his … attitude”, she says contemptuously. “He’s going through a rough time”.

And now your boss was moody too? You were regretting come here by the second. 

Strauss presses the intercom button on her phone.

“Send him in”.

The door is opened by a tall, handsome man. He’s maybe in his late 30s, and he’s well dressed. He has authority figure written all over him, but he looks confused to see you.

“Assistant Director?”, he greets. You suspect it’s not often that he’s walked into a situation where he doesn’t know what’s happening. An exception being right now.

“Agent Hotchner, come in. I’d like you to meet Agent Y/L/N”.

He stretches a hand forward and you shake it. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise”.

He looks at Strauss. 

“What is this about?”

Strauss looks like she’s holding back a grin. 

“She’ll be joining the BAU effective immediately”.

Agent Hotchner looks like he’s just been handed a bomb.

———————————— 

Present

He doesn’t talk to you at all as you’re climbing into the jet. The team don’t pretend to hide their shock at your arrival. Hotch quickly introduces you and then takes a seat at the back. You politely smile at their wide eyes, but inside you try to fight the urge to turn around and go kick Strauss in the shin. She didn’t even tell them she was hiring you. Unbelievable. This day could not get any worse. The team starts asking you all sorts of questions. Hotch cuts them off.

“That’s enough. Brief us on the case JJ”.

They all follow his directive immediately. A pretty blonde woman who must be JJ hands everyone on the team a file. There’s a pause as everyone realises you don’t have one, because she didn’t know you would be here. A dark haired woman who introduces herself as Emily offers to share hers with you. You smile at her gratefully and try to be invisible as JJ briefs the team. 

—————————

Your first case is in Bridgewater, Florida. A girl has been found with her body eaten by alligators, her fingers cut off and a pentagram carved into her chest. It’s not exactly a great first day welcome. Hotch comes back from the coroner’s office with news that the victim had been force fed fingers before her death. And that none of them were hers, and six of them are index fingers. Remember when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse? This was definitely worse. You wince at the news and Emily looks at you with concern.

“You okay?”

You nod, but notice JJ and Agent Morgan discreetly share a dubious look. The latter turns to face you. 

“Field offices aren’t exactly the same as the BAU. If you’re not up to it-“

“I’m fine. I’d just like to catch the guy that did this”, you tell him. 

You refuse to look weak or feed into the suspicion that you don’t deserve to be here. Morgan stares at you before nodding in agreement and moving away to look over some files. You do the same to avoid any more conversation, and then notice something strange. You pull out a photo.

“This crime scene shows the books the victim was carrying were arranged into a neat row. This specific placement could suggest the unsub was at some point in a mental institution”.

Morgan looks doubtful, but still takes a look. 

Agent Reid springs up. “Of course! When the severely mentally ill are institutionalised, they’re taught to keep things clean and neat to promote order, exactly like the books in that photo!”

You’re a little speechless at his enthusiasm, but it seems his confirmation convinces the team, who now look a little less skeptical about your abilities. They call Garcia to check for names and update Hotch. Garcia calls back about a specific mental institution for a case like the one you’re looking for. Hotch immediately stands up to leave.

“Reid, let’s go”, he orders. The young genius scuttles after him. 

They find a name for the unsub, Floyd Feylinn Ferrel - a cannibal that believes he’s possessed by a flesh eating demon. He was also at the search party earlier to look for a missing girl. The team finds him, but one victim is still missing - Tracy Lambert. Floyd refuses to talk without Father Marks, the priest at his church. They bring him into the interrogation room with Morgan while you and Rossi pore over the sign in sheets from the search party. You frown. 

“Somethings wrong”, you mutter. The older agent looks at you in confusion.

“He signed the volunteer sheet, but not the search team sheet. It doesn’t make sense”, you say, handing him the papers. Usually unsubs joined the search team. Why would he just volunteer to be there?

“Father, I feel so alone. Like God has abandoned me”, Floyd laments. 

The priest shakes his head kindly. “You are not alone, my son. God is in all of us”.

Your stomach drops as you see exactly what Floyd had volunteered for - the food station. 

“We need to stop the interview”, you panic, flinging open the interrogation room door. 

Floyd stares right at you and grins. 

“So is Tracy Lambert”.

—————————

The plane ride back is quiet. You thankfully hadn’t eaten anything at the search, but you still feel nauseous. Is this what all BAU cases were like? Maybe it wasn’t too late to reapply somewhere else? Your unit chief interrupts your thoughts.

“Good job today Reid, we wouldn’t have caught him if you hadn’t noticed the books”, he says. You freeze in your seat, but the younger agent doesn’t notice your discomfort. In fact he barely looks up from his book to correct the unit chief. 

“Actually it wasn’t me that figured it out. It was y/n”.

Hotch looks taken aback and he turns to you, which leads to some awkward eye contact. He looks pained, but he gives you a nod and then moves to the back of the plane. 

Emily nudges your elbow from her seat next to yours. 

“You did good today. He’ll come around”, she tells you. 

“I really didn’t know that no one was informed of my transfer-”, you try to explain, but she stops you.

“I know better than anyone how you feel right now. As long as you do your job and are loyal to the team, everything’s going to be fine”. 

You nod. 

“Look, today was a rough case. We’re going for drinks when we land. Want to come?”, she offers.

You think about the report you’re about to write for Strauss tonight, detailing everything that just happened today. It’s going to take you hours to make sure it doesn’t incriminate anyone on the team. 

“No, I’m tired, but thanks. You guys have fun”.

On the drive home, you realise that you won’t ever be friends with them. You were a spy, even if you didn’t want to be. 

You had come here to escape. Instead, you had just traded one prison for another. 

————————————

Emily enters Penelope’s office to pick her up before drinks.

Penelope greets her with a guilty look.

“Ok. I did something, but don’t be mad. I looked into her file”.

“Pen!”

“What? She’s new, I don’t like new. And we don’t know anything about her. Don’t you want to know how she got hired without Hotch’s approval?”

Emily raises an eyebrow.

“I was hired without Hotch’s approval.”

Penelope gives her puppy eyes and Emily gives in.

“Fine. What did you find?”

The analyst practically lights up.

“Ok, so she graduated the FBI academy with high scores. Went straight to the Houston field office and she was very good at her job - excellent peer reviews and high scores on all of her evaluations”, Penelope starts, putting all of your personal data onto her screen. “Almost everything about her is perfect. Except-“, she clicks on a file. “About two months ago she suddenly requested a transfer to basically every department that was hiring and got rejected by almost all of them. Except ours”. 

Emily frowns. “She has stellar performance evaluations but no one wants to hire her? And why was she so desperate to transfer?”

“Yeah, I thought that was weird too, so I looked into it, but there’s nothing. Except that in her last month at Houston, she isn’t listed on a single one of their cases.”

“None?”

“It’s like she didn’t exist, but she was there every day, I checked her attendance and it’s flawless”.

Emily presses her lips together. She remembers how much she had tried to seal her own history. 

“I don’t think we should be looking anymore. If whatever happened isn’t in the database, then we aren’t meant to see it. She’ll tell us when she’s ready”.

Penelope looks apprehensive, but she closes the files. 

“She’s really nice! And she’s good, she helped us solve the case today”, Emily tries to convince the IT specialist. 

“I’m telling you something is fishy”.

Emily might not say it out loud, but she definitely agreed.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Chapter 2

[peach-the-owl]

I make my grand return! But I also wanted to try something different from what I normally do and expand my horizons (so to speak), I hope you all enjoy 😁

Meeting Each Other

Hazbin Hotel & Child!Reader

WARNING: Themes of abuse are present in Angel Dust’s scenario, also swearing in his, I did my best to keep the characters in character but there may be some OOC moments, (if there’s any warnings I miss but should add please let me know)

(Set before the events of the show)

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie and Vaggie

You peek out from the flaming wreckage you used as cover to hide, seeing the coast is clear you carefully step out of where you’re hiding and roam the corpse riddled streets. It reeked of death, not exactly an unfamiliar scent but not a pleasant one either. You hear something shuffle, or maybe someone? You quickly turn around but don’t see anything, now paranoia starts to creep in making you wonder if you may have exposed yourself too soon and any moment an exorcist will swoop down and finish you off. To your utter surprise that’s actually not the case when you see to woman conversing as they strolled down the street, it was so odd to you how casual they looked doing it or maybe you were just getting too used to all the violence that happened on the daily that it struck you as odd. Either way your curiosity gets the better of you and you try to sneak closer without being noticed to see what they were talking about.

“… idea… to work.” You just barely catch the one in the suit say. An idea? Wonder what it could be? You sneak closer.

“…I know… rlie, but try not... aren’t exactly going to…” You hear the one with the X over her eye say, less enthusiastic then the one in the suit. Who’s going to what? You needed to get just a little closer and… you slip and fall. The girl with the X over her eye immediately wipes around, pulling out an angelic spear, with the fire still burning around you she, for just a brief moment, looked like an exorcist ready to strike you. That was enough motivation for you to shuffle back fearfully, as you do her angered expression drops to one of guilt?

“Hello.” You jump a little at the voice, not noticing the lady in the suit had approached you. “Are you lost my little friend?” She asks. You don’t say anything, you’re not sure what to say so you just kinda stare her down. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you.” Charlie gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen as she holds her hand out to you. You weren’t sure you could trust this supposedly kind gesture of hers so instead you pick yourself up off the ground and give a small nod of acknowledgment, which she still seemed extremely happy about.

“Maybe we should go, you know before their parent? Parents? Whoever might be looking for them comes along. Besides, the kid doesn’t look like they’re much for conversation.” The X eyed one says rather bluntly.

“Or… this could be the perfect opportunity to find our first attendants!” Charlie bounces excitedly before turning back to you. “So you know me. And this amazing person is my girlfriend Vaggie.” She introduces, to which Vaggie gives a bit of an awkward wave.

“I don’t.” You finally find your voice to speak. Vaggie raises a slightly confused eyebrow while Charlie looked at you curiously.

“Don’t what?” She now kneels down to your level.

“She said something about a parent coming to look for me.” You point to Vaggie. “But I don’t have anyone looking after me, even when I was alive no one really did.” You say, crossing your arms uncomfortably. Charlie looked like she was about to cry after hearing that and the next thing you know you’re being scooped up in her arms, surprising you.

“Oh Vaggie! Can we keep them! Please?” She asks, giving big puppy dog eyes.

“Charlie…” Vaggie starts looking at your confused self. “I don’t know… maybe they should decide that for themselves.” She reasons. Charlie holds you out at arms length a less enthused and more gentle smile on her face this time.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Umm…” You stare a bit stunned by all this, not entirely sure how to process everything. You’ve been alone for so long, barely trusting people for your own safety and while part of you wanted to run here and now another was telling you to just give this a chance. “I… I wouldn’t mind… I guess.” You mumble out sheepishly. Charlie bounces around happily with you still in her arms, something you realize you’re probably going to have to get used to, while you catch a faint smile on Vaggie’s face.

“Alright. Well, if you’re staying with us, can we at least get your name kid?” She asks.

“Oh, ummm, the name’s (y/n).” You tell her, she gives you a nod and with some convincing to finally get Charlie to put you down the three of you head off to this hotel Charlie won’t stop talking about.

Angel Dust

“Get back here you little shit!!” You dash away from the Sinners chasing you, mentally slapping yourself for being a little too reckless. You couldn’t help it, the items they had looked so shiny. Having been able to manage some distance between them you quickly skid into a rather empty alleyway to hide. Taking a moment to catch your breath beside a dumpster when a side door slams open, you press yourself against said dumpster and blend in with the shadows around you. You watch as someone is literally thrown out the door another figure peering down at them.

“You think this is some fucking joke! Am I a fucking joke to you Anthony!?” The one peering out the doorway hisses.

“No, no I-I never… I would never-” The other figure sounded panicked, quickly being cut off again by the first.

“Enough! We’ll discuss this later, once we get this mess cleaned up.” With that they slam the door. You sneak a bit closer getting a good look at whoever had been left in the alley with you, their spidery features struck you as familiar, remembering some of those posters you’d see around the city promoting some adult film with a one Angel Dust. And if that’s the case and if he was so popular then he must have some cash on him, ripe for your sticky fingers to grab. This motivation in mind gets you shuffling closer staying as close to the shadows as possible to avoid detection, now all you had to do was reach over and…

“Who the fuck!!” You’re suddenly grabbed by the arm and flung to the ground, now staring up at the angry spider. “The hell? What’s a kid like you doing here?” He still looks mad just with some confusion added to the mix.

“You mean in hell, or just in general?” You question back shoving him back a bit so you could sit up.

“Don’t play cheeky with me kid, you was trying to steal from me, weren’t ya?” He narrows his eyes accusingly at you.

“Trying would imply I didn’t get anything.” You say slyly, holding up a bag of drugs. He immediately snatches it back from you.

“How the fuck did you do that!?” He seemed genuinely surprised you took something without his noticing. You shrug casually in response.

“Oi! Is someone there?!” You freeze when you realize your little stunt cost you time to get away from the Sinners you were running from. Without much time, or thought you scramble into the dumpster just hoping they didn’t see you. The footsteps thump closer and closer, halting right by your hiding spot.

“Well well, if it ain’t the beauty of the Angel Dust themselves.” Shit, you forgot Angel Dust was right there, stupid!

“It is, and what can I do for such strong capable folk like yourselves?” You’re gonna be ratted out for sure.

“Uhh- *ahem* Right, we’s looking for a kid, about yay big and kind of stupid. Like a real piece of shit.” Rude much, if anything they’re the stupid ones.

“Is that so? And what exactly are ya gonna do when you catch them?”

“Oh nothing really, we’s just gonna teach them a lesson, right boys.” A small cheer of “yeah’s” ring from the group. This was it, you were doomed and all because you just-

“I think I saw ‘em run that way and turned left.” You sit there stunned as the footsteps disappear into the distance, unsure if what just happened really just happened. “Coast is clear kid, you can come out of there, hehe cum.” He chuckles at his own unintentional joke. Slowly you peek out from the dumpster looking around to be extra sure that gang was gone before crawling out entirely.

“You… you didn’t rat me out?” You look at him genuinely puzzled, he just shrugs. “Why?” He’s quiet for a long moment before answering.

“Well… why don’t we just say you owe me now.” He says, crossing his arms and looking away from you.

“Oh, so you want my soul for something.” You huff.

“As nice as that would be, I was thinkin’ more a fair trade.”

“Like what?” You we’re getting very confused and curious as to what was on his mind.

“I use my ravishingly good looks and smooth talk to get you out of trouble, and you use those little skills of yours to snag me some of that good nose candy.” You think on this for a second, letting his words sink in and it wasn’t the worst situation to be in, all things considered.

“Alright! You got yourself a deal.” You shake each other’s hands, a thread like a spiders web wraps around your hand while a wispy one wraps around his, sealing your deal together. You both blink in surprise at this. “Did you that was gonna happen?” You ask him as you pull away.

“Nope… eh, I’m sure it’s fine.” He brushes off nonchalantly. His calm demeanour quickly shifts to to fear when the door open once more.

“Angel I’m so sorry for how I yelled at you earlier. I didn’t mean it, honest, it’s just been so stressful today. You understand, don’t you?” The pimp says in a sickly sweet voice.

“I uhh…” Angel takes a small look over his shoulder a second to see his own shadow give him a quick wink then disappear into the darkness of the alleyway. “Of course…” He shakes himself off and with a small second of hesitance, re-enters the studio.

Alastor

The streets were quiet and the sky was darker then normal as you kept a decent pace behind the odd man with the strange static noise coming off of him. He’d appeared not too long ago seemingly minding his own business, no one bothering to look twice at him but you found him interesting. After all he basically just got here and already he’s strolling around with the confidence like he owned the place. He turns and without thinking you follow, only to end up staring down the dead end street at nothing. The static sound fills your ears loudly, you quickly cover them and tilt your head up to see the looming figure grinning back at you.

“You seem lost my little friend! T̷͈̜̑o̶͈͊̌ ̸͔͂̎w̵̫̠̕ḣ̴̗̋a̵̐͜ţ̵̗̊́ ̴̣̯̈́d̷̛̪ȍ̷̘ ̷͉͚̍̓Ǐ̶̬ ̴̠̦̉̄o̸͉̍̔w̶̧̟̃é̸̆��̻ ̸͉̎t̸͇̀̂ͅh̷̥͝ê̶͕̞ ̷̠̍̅p̴̢̓l̴̨̹̑͒ẻ̷̮̅a̷͔͛͊ş̸̾ȕ̷̩͍r̶̹̔e̸̮̬̓ ̵̱̼͌͗ó̴̧͉̈́f̷̡̬̓̓ ̷̰̝͒̀y̴͚̪͘͝o̵̙͋ǔ̵͙ ̶̙̇̂͜f̵̧̪̓ö̶͉́ͅl̶̢̮̅̌l̶̝͂͘ͅo̵̗̳͌̂ŵ̷͓͓̽i̷̧̛̼̾n̶̹̝̔̈g̷̡̡̿ ̴̤͝m̶̩̊̓è̷̹̭?̷̩̻͂͠” The grin never falters as his tone lowers leaving an uneasy feeling in your gut.

“Umm… c-curiosity?” You say shakily.

“Well why didn’t you just say so! If I’d known I already be paraded by fans I’d have given a better welcome!” He laughs jovially. “Though…” He leans down to get a closer look at you. “You don’t appear as someone who’s well versed in the art of radio.” He raises an amused eyebrow at you.

“Oh… umm… I…” You struggle to think of a good excuse, still new to the whole radio stuff. “I am aware of them.” He straightens himself up, still holding a look of amusement on you, then a look of realization crosses his ever smiling face.

“Oh ho! Where have my manners gone? The name’s Alastor, my fine little friend. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He introduces himself.

“Uhhh, my name’s (y/n).” You greet back.

“Hmmm, so tell me. What really pulled you to follow me?” Alastor hums in thought, being slightly less threatening then earlier.

“You walk with a lot of confidence for someone who’s only been here for about a week. I was curious for why.” You confess.

“Is that all? Haha! Why it’s very simple my little friend. With confidence you hold the upper hand against your opponent no matter the situation.” He proclaims proudly. “Now then, I for one couldn’t help but notice you’re… unique attributes about you.” You look away from him nervously. “Now now, no need to feel shameful. In fact I believe you should embrace it! And I can help.”

“You can help me? How?” You knew exactly where he was going with this but played along.

“Isn’t it obvious? By giving you reason to put those skills of yours to use! And there’s no better person then I to help give you that reason.” He gleefully remarks.

“I mean… I guess.” You draw out the words as an idea forms in your head.

“So… ĭ̸̍̚͜t̴̝̫̆̊’̸̲̺̈́̚s̸̗̓͆͂͆̀̚ ̶̥̖͋͆̾̆̅̏̓ą̴̢̳̤̋̋̉̽̍͌͠ ̸͓̜̲̭̳̦̠̅͗̋̅d̶̙̾̉͗̒e̴̛̙̿͐a̴̟͗́̂̆̎ĺ̴̠̻̒ ̶̧̺̺̳̕t̵̢̰̍̿̍̈́̓͒͌h̵̢̼̰̠͕̀̔̽ę̵͖͚͕̲̓̋͠n̷̢̫̻̆͐͆ͅͅ?̵̲͗͗͒” Alastor holds out his hand to you a green aura around it as a small gust of wind whips around the two of you.

“Only if you promise me that I don’t get in trouble or harmed by anything or anyone.” You quickly say.

“Is that all?” He tilts his head curiously at you. You nod in response, he narrows his eyes at you a second or two before answering. “Cross my heart.” He says to which you then accept his handshake sealing the deal between the two of you.

There it was, a deal was made and the two of you left that dead end street. You weren’t sure what Alastor had planned but that didn’t really matter to you, all you wanted was protection and that’s exactly what you got.

As for Alastor, while not exactly looking to be someone’s “bodyguard” the pros of this deal heavily outweighed the cons so he let slide…

J̶̡̡̣͈͚͓̱̬̳͇̬̻̲̍̈́́͒̐͒u̵̟̞̞̜̲̖̹̳̇̍͊̀̽͂͜͠s̷̥͖̭̣̞͍̑̄̆̈́ţ̴͎̥̰̲͓̖̓̀͗̄̒̂̒̍̏̽͊̕͝ ̶͔̬̹͚̝̯͖̟̭̹̤̇͋͐͑̉͐t̴̡̜͕͕̠͖̗̺͓̣̫̔̓̑̍́̈̇̚͠͝ḧ̴̰͚̯̯̤͓͍̤͚͒̇̈́̆̌̉̑̚͝i̸̘̬̻̐̊̇̎̚ś̴͇̮͕̐̐̓͆̒̓̍̂͝ ̸̡̡̛̩̩̥̰͈̝͔͓̤̖́͒͛͑̆̎̓̈́̚͘͝ö̴̜̭́̀͑̾̑̕͘̕͝ṉ̸̲̥͌̀̽́̓͋̆̒͝c̷̨̨̘̱̲̰̝̟̠̏̍e̸͈̹̒̆̌̒̆…̵̡̭̙͉̱̣̄̐̈́̀̋̂. I

I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want me to continue this or add any characters. (Side note: I have a separate WIP for Helluva Boss characters coming soon (hopefully))😁

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author���s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

[egcdeath]

kith and kin

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (pairing from the soccer parents AU)

summary: your parents finally meet joel in the midst of celebrating your daughter’s birthday. 

word count: 8.3k

warnings: brief mention of past abuse, a little tough love from reader’s mom, no use of y/n, cursing, alternate universe: no apocalypse, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, joel is a little anxious, your daughters are sassy, very lightly edited

author’s note: i’ve had the worst writers block recently, but i love this pairing too much to let them go. feel free to send me any requests!

previous part / series masterlist

Joel paced back and forth in your bedroom, the padded sound of his socks hitting the floor pleasant at first but was becoming a bit of an annoyance by the tenth consecutive minute of the sound of pacing.

Chloe’s birthday was in just a few days and your parents had rented out a cabin on Canyon Lake, inviting you and one of her friends to come along. Seeing as you’d been together for around a year now and that there was no better time than the present, you figured it was probably about time for Joel to meet your parents.

“Joel,” you finally said sternly, zipping up your suitcase and looking up at your partner. “Relax, honey. They’re gonna love you. I mean, they’re gonna have to love you since I love you. That’s how it works, right?” you walked over to him and gently grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling him into what you hoped would be a reassuring kiss.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “What if they don’t think I’m good for you?”

“Well, this may be breaking news to you, but we’re not living in the 1700’s. We don’t exactly need my parents’ approval to have a relationship.”

Joel walked away from you, grabbing his own bag from where it laid on the floor. “I know, it’s just… I want them to like me. I don’t want you to have to feel like you needed to choose between me and your family and secretly resent me for years over that.”

“Maybe let’s unpack that last part some other time. But you’re so likable and charming, they’d have to be crazy to not like you.”

“I admire your belief in me, but it’s been well over a decade since I’ve had to meet and woo someone’s parents. What if I’m rusty?”

“Don’t be rusty, just be yourself!” you tried, smiling at your own terrible dad joke.

“Ha, ha,” his laughter was forced and monotone.

“Not the time?” You knew it was bad when Joel didn’t even respond to one of his beloved dad jokes.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. But everything is gonna go great, okay? And if not, you have a few days to make them love you, yeah?”

“You’re right,” he admitted reluctantly, seemingly just wanting to move on from the conversation. “You ready to go?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

When you arrived at the cabin, your parents were sat on the front porch, seemingly deep in their own conversation before noticing your car pulling up.

Chloe was quick to hop out of the car, excited to see her grandparents. Given that they were practically attached at the hip, Sarah followed close behind Chloe, with the pair receiving hugs from your parents as they greeted the girls.

Still firmly seated in the car, Joel took a deep, yet shaky breath, giving you an idea of just how nervous he was to be meeting your parents. Wanting to give the man a bit of reassurance, you grabbed ahold of his slightly trembling hand and squeezed it hard.

“I promise you have nothing to worry about. You’re gonna have a great time, and my parents are probably gonna love you more than they love me. Got it?” you asked firmly, trying to sound sure of yourself despite the minor nerves you were facing yourself.

“Got it,” Joel parroted, although he didn’t exactly sound sure of himself.

“C’mon,” you beckoned, unstrapping yourself before getting out of the car. After a very subtle moment of reluctance, Joel’s door opened and your partner stepped out of your car as well.

The moment he got out of the car, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it once again as a small demonstration of your support before leading him up to the porch.

The girls were already making their way inside when you finally reached your parents, your mom giving you a tight hug and setting her head on your shoulder.

“It’s been too long,” she declared as she squeezed you for a few more beats, finally pulling away to analyze the man you had brought with you. “And who is this?”

“Mom, Dad, this is Joel. He’s Sarah’s dad,” you stepped back to wrap your arm around Joel, a slightly territorial move to show your parents that whatever you had going on was serious. “He’s also my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Joel” your mother greeted, shaking Joel’s hand and maintaining a somewhat loaded eye contact with him. She smiled at him, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Your dad didn’t even bother with the pleasantries, giving Joel’s hand a firm squeeze and one solid shake. Both of your parents looked rather skeptical of the man, but you hoped that the stern look you were offering them was warning enough for your parents to behave around your boyfriend.

As everyone left to put away their luggage, you stayed downstairs with your mother, who indicated she wanted to have a separate conversation with you.

“What’s up?” you asked her, crossing your arms over your chest defensively in anticipation of what she might say. Based on that loaded interaction on the porch, you already had a good idea of where this conversation is going.

“Is this the Joel from Chloe’s soccer games?”

Shit. The one time your parents remember the name of someone you disliked just happens to be the one time you bring them home.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you remembered that,” you attempted to casually brush off. “It is.”

“The one you couldn’t stand?” your mother pressed, her brows furrowing as she looked at you with what seemed like disbelief.

“That was a while ago! Before our kids got closer and I got to know him better. And really it wasn’t even like I couldn’t stand him, it was more like he mildly annoyed me and we would argue sometimes. Even then, I kinda just had a crush on him. That’s why I told you guys about him in the first place. Notice how you don’t know the names of anyone else on the team who I don’t like?” you spoke quickly as you attempted to justify what you’d told your parents in the past.

“Stop. Just stop,” your mother rubbed the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Growing up, you were all too familiar with that move of exasperation. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing… what?” you said meekly, almost scared of what was going to come next.

“Finding men that don’t treat you right. Men who aren’t good for you?”

Oh. So that was what this was about. It was less about Joel, and more about your parents not trusting you to take care of yourself.

One of your biggest fears after exiting your relationship with Nathan laid in the ways that people would treat you after finding out you had stayed in a relationship that was abusive. Sure, there was the sympathy that always came with finding out about someone’s past trauma, but then there was the judgment that came with finding out you stayed. You knew people would question your ability to take care of yourself and your daughter, and you knew people would question your ability to find a significant other who didn’t end up toxic. It shouldn’t have surprised you that your mother was grilling you like this—after all, it was her that you turned to on nights where you had nowhere else to go, bringing your daughter to her home on days where things with Nathan got particularly tough.

“No! No, no, no,” you protested, emotions that had spent far too long simmering on the back burner beginning to come forward. “Joel is the best thing to happen for me in a long time.”

“Honey,” your mom sighed and looked at you with what could only be described as pity. Frankly, it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “You sound just like a teenager again, defending Nathan.”

You nearly had a visceral reaction at the comparison of Joel to Nathan. You just wished your mother could understand that even though she may have heard some of the things you’d been through, that you had lived through those things, and you would never make that kind of mistake again.

“Mom, Joel is nothing like Nathan,” you expressed passionately. “He’s an amazing partner and he may have only been in Chloe’s life for a short bit of time, but he’s a far better father to her than Nathan’s ever been.”

“I want to believe you, and I am going to give him a chance. But just know that things even seem like they might go South, your father and I will be fighting tooth and nail to keep Chloe safe. You’re an adult; you can make your own decisions, but we won’t let her go through something like that again.”

You understood the implication of her statement and frowned. You knew that your parents just wanted the best for you and your daughter, but this whole thing just made you feel like a child. Why were you being punished for being a victim? Did your parents really trust you so little? Little enough to think that you would intentionally put your daughter in harm’s way?

“Okay,” you uttered, defeat evident in your tone. “But there’s nothing to worry about with Joel.”

“I certainly hope so,” your mother said with a sense of finality.

You found yourself sitting by the lake as Joel played with the kids, deep in thought as you pondered the situation. Maybe inviting Joel was a bad idea. Your parents clearly weren’t happy and your partner certainly wasn’t comfortable. At the very least, the girls seemed to be excited to spend some time on a little vacation with the man.

Chloe ran over to you, pulling your attention away from the cyclical motion of the water as it approached and receded over and over again.

“Come look at our sandcastles! They’re really detailed,” she said excitedly, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you up. Her excitement was contagious, causing you to completely disregard all the negative feelings you’d been stewing in after your conversation with your mother in favor of adopting some of your daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you laughed, following your daughter out to the shore as she practically ran all the way over to her creation.

You squat down next to Sarah and set your hand on your brow so you could protect your eyes from the sun as you looked upon the three sandcastles in front of you.

“Well, what do you think?” Sarah asked, her tone just as excited as Chloe’s.  

“I am very impressed. Great work, guys,” you expressed, beaming at the people around you.

“But which one is your favorite?” your daughter asked, shooting you a cheeky look that you were becoming all too familiar with.

“They’re all my favorite,” you replied, evaluating the castles.

“Boo,” Sarah jeered, clearly hoping for a better answer. “Which one is your actual favorite?”

“Hmm,” you fake-pondered aloud, bringing your free hand to your chin to make you seem like you were far deeper in thought than you actually were.

“We don’t have all day, mom,” Chloe commented, setting a hand on her hip.

“Hey! Good deliberation takes time,” you replied. Given that everyone was sitting by their own castle, it wasn’t very hard to pick out which one belonged to your boyfriend. Seeing as you were in the mood to mess around, you proudly declared Joel’s castle as your favorite, despite his castle not looking so hot.  

“That one,” you said, trying to hide entertainment on your face as you pointed to the least technically impressive castle. Joel’s expression matched yours as he clearly bit back an entertained smirk.

“Whaaat? C’mon, I have a moat!” Chloe gasped, throwing a hand over her heart to show just how offended she was.

“And I have a mermaid! What does his have that ours doesn’t?” Sarah protested as she gestured over at her sand mermaid.

“She’s just biased because they’re in love or whatever,” Chloe scoffed. “Don’t worry, Sare. You’re a winner in my eyes.”

“Aw, stop, I love yours too!” Sarah grinned, going in to hug her friend as the two began to compliment aspects of each other’s sandcastles.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. Somehow, being around your little found family always made you feel a bit better. Even if your parents didn’t approve and never came around to Joel, that didn’t change the fact that you genuinely were happy with the man, and even happier with the blended family you’d created.

“Girls!” your mom yelled from inside, drawing all of your attention away from the beach and towards her booming voice. “Lunch is ready!”

“I’ll race you back inside?” Sarah offered. Chloe was off on her feet before she could even respond.

You and Joel took your time getting back to the house, walking slowly as you filled him in on your mother’s one-on-one confrontation with you. Despite the joy in the moment just prior, the reality check of having to deal with your parents had brought both of your moods back down rather quickly.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” Joel admitted to you, a hint of shame in his voice.

“I-“ you wanted to lie to him, to at least bring a little comfort to your boyfriend who had been worried sick about your parents not liking him. “It’s not your fault, it’s Nathan’s. They think I… they basically think I have a type. It doesn’t help that they think I used to hate you.”

“Fuck,” Joel exclaimed quietly, looking away from you. “I’m sorry, I just… I want them to like me. I’m already so nervous, I feel like I’m gonna shit a fucking brick. How can I make them like me?”

“Just be yourself, okay? And relax. I’m gonna love you regardless of whether or not my parents like you. Nothing's gonna change because of what my parents think of you. At the end of the day, I’m the one crawling in bed with you, not them. Who cares what they think?”

“I care. Deep down, you care too.”

“Joel, please,” you stopped and grabbed his hands, gently tugging him over to you. “I genuinely do not care. I love you. I love our family. Nothing is going to change that, okay? Nothing.”

Joel looked at you anxiously, his eyes a bit more defeated than usual. The two of you made wordless eye contact, communicating something heartfelt without using one word.

“We’re gonna be okay, regardless of how this weekend turns out. Okay? Just be yourself and my parents will eventually come around. If they don’t, it’s their loss.”

The round table at the patio of the lake house had a shape that in any other setting you wouldn’t even really notice, but only seemed to create more tension in this particular context.

You sat next to Sarah and across from Chloe, who sat next to your mother. It just so happened that Joel and your father were sitting across from each other at the table, and you could already feel the stare down just waiting to happen.

“So Chlo, what are you wishing for for your birthday?” your mom gently asked as your daughter took a bite of her food.

“Hmm,” she hummed as she thought. “I don’t really know. And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you! Remember, wishes don’t come true if you tell people. But I am very happy to be here with everyone. So maybe my unofficial wish is to have more family time.”

“That is a great wish, Bug,” your dad agreed. Sarah smiled mischievously at the nickname and Chloe threw her a playful glare.

“So how is school going, ladies?” your mom asked them, looking between Sarah and Chloe.

You glanced over at Joel, mostly to make sure that he was doing okay under the pointed gaze of your father. Sweat beaded at his forehead and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the dry heat or from the daggers your dad was currently shooting at him.

Thankfully, your kids seemed to be blissfully unaware of the one-sided war going on at the table. You attempted to reach under the table and grab Joel’s hand, but the odd shape of the table didn’t allow for that. He was on his own for the duration of lunch.

The conversation mostly flowed between your mom, Chloe, and Sarah, with your father occasionally butting in to comment on something. All you could do was sit and watch while your dad grilled your boyfriend with only his eyes, with not one thing you could do about it.

Finally, it seemed like everyone had finished their meals, and that Joel could finally get up and be put out of his misery. But fate didn’t seem to be on his side, as he somehow wasn’t off the hook yet.

“Why don’t you all go try out one of the trails? Joel and I are gonna stay behind and do some dishes,” your dad proposed, making pointed eye contact with your boyfriend.

The girls happily agreed with the plan, excited and oblivious of the fear that had just coursed through yours and Joel’s veins with the idea of him being alone with your father.

“Hold on, ladies. You’re still wearing flip flops. How about you go change into better shoes, then we’ll go explore a trail. Sounds good?” you asked, hoping to buy yourself a moment of time to give Joel a pep talk.

Chloe nodded affirmatively and the two of them headed inside to change. At least you could have one private moment with Joel before he had to face off your father.

You stood up and pushed in your chair before grabbing Joel’s hand and squeezing his slightly shaking palm as hard as you could.

“You’ll be okay. Just relax,” you said under your breath so that your parents wouldn’t notice. “Remember, you can’t say the wrong thing. Even if they despise you, I’ll still love you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Joel agreed, although he didn’t seem completely convinced.

“You got this,” you reiterated, letting go of Joel’s hand as the girls came back outside, talking about some show they’d been watching.

When you glanced away, your father had begun picking up plates, looking at Joel like he expected him to be doing the same. That was your cue to leave.

You mouthed good luck at Joel before your mother ushered you all away. You had no idea how your dad was going to act around your boyfriend, but you certainly hoped for his sake that he wouldn’t be too terrible.

After you and the girls left, Joel and your father picked up the dishes outside in silence, with Joel focusing on finding his composure and maintaining it, and your father being completely unreadable.

Joel politely opened the door for the man, even with his hands filled with plates, cups, and silverware. Your father simply gave Joel a curt nod rather than a verbal thank you.

He followed your father into the kitchen, trailing a few steps behind him before setting down the content of his full arms into the sink. Joel did his best not to overthink this interaction, but it was going to be his first one-on-one with one of your parents, and your father had already spent the past hour giving him a nasty glare.

The following silence was awkward and thick. Almost like those tension filled silences you and Joel had the first few times you were together with stakes that somehow felt even higher.

Joel stood at the sink, silently scrubbing away at a dish, hoping that an awkward silence would be the most of his woes that day, rather than any sort of verbal confrontation.

“You do the dishes often?” your dad asked out of the blue, breaking the awkward silence with an even more awkward question.  

“Uh,” he tried not to show how thrown off he was by the question. Maybe if Joel could treat the interaction as less of an interrogation and more of a way for your dad to get to know him a little better, things would be slightly less awkward. “I do. I mean, I’ve been a single dad for almost 13 years. Someone had to wash the dishes, and it wasn’t gonna be Sarah.” Joel chuckled awkwardly, but your father didn’t even crack a smile.

“So if you had a wife, she’d be doing the dishes?”

Joel was once again thrown off, this time by the accusatory tone your father had asked the question with. Joel tried to give the man a bit of grace—your dad was probably trying to get a good read on him, so he would try not to let it get under his skin too much.

“What? No! I-I never said that. We’d probably split our house chores. I mean, that’s what your daughter and I do.”

There. That was a good enough answer. Tell the truth while explaining why him and his daughter were a good pair.

“Oh?” your father began with the raise of a brow, setting down the dish he was working on. “Well, why don’t you have a wife?”

Joel was completely taken aback by the blunt question, but assumed it was fair enough game to ask about. He would probably wonder the same if he were in your father’s shoes.

“Uh, my last long-term partner left shortly after Sarah was born,” he answered quietly, afraid of the judgment that your father may pass upon him, and slightly ashamed to admit what happened in the past.  

“Oh,” if Joel wasn’t mistaken, it almost seemed like your father’s tone shifted, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “That sounds hard. Do you know why?”

It almost felt like that answer had humanized Joel the slightest bit in your fathers eyes.

“It’s a long story,” Joel dismissed, not particularly wanting to get into all the details at that very moment. “Leaving was better for her mental health.”

“Okay,” your father simply accepted, although Joel had a feeling that answer didn’t quite suffice.

“But things are better now, with your daughter around,” Joel added. “Sarah’s probably happier now than I’ve seen her in a long time. I can’t really speak for Chloe, but based on what I’ve been told, she’s been doing better too. It’s been really nice to finally have another parent around to be able to split duties with. I just wish I’d found your daughter earlier,” Joel gushed, hoping that your father would find his answer pleasing enough.

Your father was unresponsive to Joel’s statement, finishing up the last of the dishes before finally speaking again.

“You talk a lot,” your father said simply, turning off the water flow of the sink and turning to face Joel head on. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush here. I’m glad to hear that things are working well for you two right now. I don’t know how much you know about Nathan. I don’t particularly care how much you know either. What I do care about you knowing is that I will never see my daughter suffer like that again. Understand?”

Joel was taken aback by the abrupt change in tone, and just when he thought tensions between them were easing up. “Y-Yes, yeah I-“

“So if you ever put your hands on my daughter, or raise your voice even an octave higher than it needs to be at her, there will be hell to pay. Get it?”

“I do, uh, I get it,” Joel wasn’t even completely sure how he was supposed to be reacting to this sudden rant.

“I want you to say it. You’re not going to mistreat my daughter, and you’re not ever going to lay a finger on her. And god help you if you do anything to Chloe.”

“I swear. I swear I’ll never hurt your daughter or your granddaughter ever,” Joel’s words were rushed, and he swore he could hear his rushed heartbeat in his own ears. The sudden confrontation being jarring was an understatement, but he supposed that’s how your father intended it to be.

“Good. I’m going to hold you to that,” was all that your father said as turned to dry his hands off on a towel. “Thanks for helping with dishes.”

“No problem, sir,” Joel choked out, like his heart wasn’t still in his throat. He took that as an indication that he was dismissed, and he set down the things in his hand before walking back outside and heading straight to the lake—far away from your father.

As you were heading back from your hike, you were surprised to run into Joel. He looked slightly disheveled, but particularly relieved to see you. The girls seemed just as pleased to see him, talking his ear off all the way back to the lake house. You occasionally glanced over at your mother, trying to get some sort of read on her opinion of Joel, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“So what happened?” you asked as you stepped out of the bathroom, exchanging your towel for the soft pajamas you’d brought with you. “You seemed pretty shaken up after lunch.”

“Your dad just really grilled me,” Joel explained, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed as you flopped onto the mattress next to him.

“My dad can be an ass sometimes. I apologize,” you muttered, curling up beside Joel. “And I apologize for bringing you here. I didn’t know they were gonna be like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Joel assured, hoping to bring you a little consolation.

“It is, though. I’m the one who suggested that you come. I wasn’t thinking,” you whispered as you set an arm and your head on top of Joel’s torso.

“They were gonna have to meet me eventually. Better now than at the wedding, right?” Joel quipped.

“Right,” you agreed, looking up from where you’d set your head on your partner’s chest. “Hold on, are you proposing to me right now?”

“No, not yet,” Joel began to backtrack.

“Good. You’ll need my parents’ blessing first,” you teased. “Too soon?”

“Maybe a little,” Joel stifled his laugh.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted,” you groaned. “I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“Also exhausted, mixed with a little bit of defeated,” Joel sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “You meant it when you said you’ll love me even if your family doesn’t, right?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed, sitting up a little so you could make better eye contact with your boyfriend. “Of course I will love you even if they don’t,” you promised.

Joel still didn’t exactly look like he was buying it.

“Joel,” you began, tone stern and serious. “Every day, you make my life so much better. You bring me so many laughs and smiles, you’re always there when I need to rant, and you’re the most reliable person ever when it comes to parenting shit. You’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me since Chloe was born. So yes, it would be great if my parents loved you as much as I do. But until they figure that out, I could care less about their opinions.”

That answer finally seemed to resolve some of the insecurity Joel was feeling around wanting to impress your parents, as he didn’t bring it back up for the rest of the night.

It was far too early to be awake, but Joel was having a hard time sleeping. Sure, you peacefully snoozed next to him, and of course Joel was comforted by your sleeping presence, but despite the pep talk you gave him, the knowledge that your parents disliked him and that all of his fears had come to light weren’t allowing him to rest very well.

With not much else to do and an arm that was quickly falling asleep (thanks to your cuddling), Joel snuck out of bed and down the stairs. Maybe he could catch the sunrise on the lakefront.

As he made his way to the patio, he heard a few sounds coming from the kitchen, and went to investigate. He was surprised to find your mother already walking around the kitchen, seemingly making a coffee for herself.

“Morning,” Joel greeted, voice raspy as he announced his presence.

Your mom turned around and offered him a pressed smile. She clearly was not expecting visitors this early in the morning.

“Morning,” she repeated. “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Joel smiled, sitting down at the kitchen table while your mother worked on putting together another mug.

“You an early riser?” your mom asked Joel, bringing a mug and some creamer over to him.

“Thank you. And no, not really. Your daughter and I usually trade off on who’s gonna wake up early and get the kids ready for school while the other gets to sleep in. I just couldn’t sleep all that well today,” Joel shrugged as he prepared his coffee just the way he liked it.

“That’s sweet,” she hummed, taking a sip from her drink.

Joel sipped his coffee as well, and found himself surprised at the quality of the drink. “This is really good,” he acknowledged. “Is this a pour-over?”

“It is! How did you know?” your mother sounded quite excited that you were able to identify any way of brewing coffee, let alone identifying how his drink was made from just one sip.

“I can taste the difference,” Joel explained.

“See! That’s what I’ve been telling my husband.”

“I also may or may not have seen your dripper. But from one coffee connoisseur to another, this is amazing coffee. I’ve always said a pour-over gets you the best flavor.”

“I completely agree! These new, fancy drip machines just don’t do coffee justice. Keurigs, Nespressos, they’re all hunks of junk to me.”

“Well someone gifted me a Nespresso for Valentine’s Day after seeing my dripper and calling it prehistoric. I use it, of course, but it doesn’t compare.”

“Since it was a gift, I can forgive that,” your mother laughed, taking a hearty sip. “Do you ever grind your own beans?”

“When I can,” Joel replied, thinking about the fresh bag of beans he had sitting on the counter back home.

“Ah! Good boy,” your mother exclaimed, clearly pleased with Joel’s answers. “You do any other special things in the kitchen?”

“Eh, not particularly. I do enjoy being in the kitchen, though. I mean, being a single parent, I didn’t really have many options but to learn how to cook since I didn’t have anyone else to carry me in that area. I will say, we’ve been baking more often. Turns out, I can make a pretty mean focaccia.”

“Baking? With my daughter? You sure you’re talking about the one upstairs? I swear I’ve been trying to get her to bake for years and she just… hates it! What’s your secret?”

“I don’t know. The honeymoon phase, maybe?”

Your mom laughed aloud at Joel’s joke. He had to hold himself back from beaming with pride. He could barely speak to this woman the day before, and now he was making her laugh?

“Whatever it is, bring some over next time. I need to be the judge of this ‘mean focaccia’.”

Next time? Thank god for not being able to sleep.

“Of course!” Joel said with what may have been a little too much enthusiasm. He sipped some coffee from his mug while he thought about something else to say to fill up the silence, but your mother began to speak once again.

“So Joel, I want to know more about you. Other than the fact that you raised an adorable kid, like coffee a lot, and used to argue with my daughter during the soccer season.”

“She told you about that?” Joel asked, unsure of how to react. He wanted to laugh at the fact that you’d shared that with your parents, either before your relationship began or recently as some sort of fun fact, but he was still walking on eggshells around your parents.

“Yeah,” your mom acknowledged. It almost seemed as if she wanted to be casual about it, but also was curious for a bit more context.

“It was a long time ago,” Joel explained as if he could make it better. “It was never anything serious.”

“Well, how did you go from arguing every week to… this?”

“After the girls became friends, they kept setting us up to do things together. After that, things progressed pretty naturally. I think we just clicked. Realized we’re a good team and like each other’s company. I mean, I really love her and Chloe. I’m really happy with our little family.”

“Family?” your mom questioned with raised brows and a tilt of her head.

Joel wondered if he’d said the wrong thing or overstepped some sort of boundary. “I mean, I guess. I would say we… function as a family?”

“So there’s no secret engagement or secret wedding I need to know about,” your mother probed.

“No! Not at all,” Joel confirmed, hoping to quell some of the concern that had seemed to find itself on her face.

“And you didn’t come here to get a blessing for an engagement?” she implored.

“No! This is only my first time meeting you guys. I mean, I’m more worried about making a good impression than getting your approval on our potential marriage. Besides, I’m not really sure she’s interested in marriage after…”

Your mother nodded as Joel trailed off, not needing him to finish his sentence to understand where he was going.

“How much has she told you about Nathan?” she queried, seeming to be even more curious about this question than she was about some of the previous questions.

“Bits and pieces. Some things I’ve inferred,” Joel answered.

“Yeah. It was pretty bad for her and Chlo,” your mother simply stated. “Maybe we’ll talk about it some other time. It might help you understand why my husband and I have been the way that we’ve been towards you.”

“No, I get it. If anyone I loved had to go through those things—let alone my daughter, I would react the same way. I’d probably be worse,” Joel stiffly chuckled into his drink. For a moment, Joel thought about punching Nathan. The perfect cathartic moment for hurting and harassing the woman he loves. He’d do it again. And he’d do it to any person who even attempted to hurt you, Sarah, or Chloe.

“I just want to wrap her up in bubble wrap,” your mother admitted. “I never want her to be hurt again, and I know it isn’t possible, but I just want to be so sure that she’ll never be hurt in that way again. I apologize for being hostile, but you understand, right?”

“Of course I do,” Joel said earnestly. “And if it’s any consolation, I would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt her. I know what it’s like to have a wall built around your heart and to swear that you’ll never let anyone in again. Your daughter let me in, and I’d never want her to regret that.”

Your mom seemed to think for a moment, getting up and setting her mug in the sink before sitting back down across from Joel.

“Either you’re really manipulative, or you really love her. I’m gonna hope for all of our sakes it’s the latter.”

“I can guarantee that it is.”

“I’m gonna believe you. But only because I want to try that focaccia.” Though your mom stated that with the cadence of a joke, Joel couldn’t help but feel that there was some hint of truth behind her words. Sure, this conversation hadn’t fixed everything, but it seemed like she trusted him just a bit more.

You crept down the stairs, clearly trying to be quiet, but failing at doing so. You approached the kitchen and yawned aloud, attempting to alert Joel and your mother of your presence.

“Good morning,” you greeted the pair. “You better not be interrogating my boyfriend,” you told your mom as you sat down next to the man of the hour.

“Nothing of the sort. We were just talking about baking. Why didn’t you tell me you bake now? And why haven’t you baked with me?”

“I guess I just didn’t have the right pastry chef,” you chimed, stealing Joel’s mug and taking a sip of his coffee. “Did Joel tell you that we’ve been working our way up to sourdough? I just ordered some starter the other day.”

“Oh wow. You’re like a completely different person. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Sorry,” you apologized insincerely.

“Does this mean you’ll start baking with me when you come home?”

“Sorry mom. I’m loyal to my pastry chef. Has he told you about his focaccia? It’s really good. We’ll bring it next time you invite us over.”

You pulled your chair a little closer to Joel’s and held his hand under the table, a simple reassurance that you were there, and you weren’t going to let your parents treat him any way he didn’t deserve to be treated.

“You are breaking my heart,” your mom said, clutching her chest jokingly. “Although you mended it when you mentioned bringing bread.”

Luckily, it seemed like this day had started off far better for everyone—but particularly your boyfriend and mother. The two of them were getting along swimmingly, working together to whip up breakfast, carrying the conversation throughout the meal, and even going on to converse while the girls played at the beach.

If nothing else, you were glad that Joel was growing on your mother. You still couldn’t really get a read on your father’s opinion of your boyfriend, but hopefully with your mom now on his side, she would be able to talk some sense into your father.

It just so happened that your parents had planned to set up a few things around the house in preparation for the birthday festivities for the following day, and your mother had somehow managed to talk Joel into helping them out with their preparation. Since your boyfriend would be setting up, you were tasked with distracting the girls with a day out on the town, leaving your boyfriend alone in the lake house with your parents.

As things seemed to be going well between your mother and Joel at the very least, you at least weren’t too worried about your parents shredding your partner to bits while you pampered the girls and took them shopping.

Despite this fact, you still checked in with your partner multiple times throughout the day, getting updates about things he was doing with your parents, or any particularly interesting conversations they’d had during the day. For the most part, things seemed to be going well, but as the evening began to come in, you began to hear less and less from Joel, making you the slightest bit worried.

Once you got back to the lake house, you were pleasantly surprised to hear the sound of laughter coming from the back patio, paired with the familiar scent of a bonfire. The girls seemed more than pleased to go straight to the backyard, walking off far ahead of you.

By the time you reached the patio, Sarah and Chloe had already found spots to sit around the fire, and Joel was tossing some more firewood into the pit while seemingly laughing at a conversation going on between himself and your father. Although you couldn’t have seen the evening going this way when you initially came the previous morning, you couldn’t have been happier that everyone seemed to be getting along.

You found your own seat by the fire and Joel came back to sit next to you as your mother began to ask the girls a few questions about their day.

After getting as comfortable as you could on what was essentially a rock turned into a bench and leaning onto your partner, you and Joel quietly roasted marshmallows as your daughters excitedly chatted away, just happy to be able to sit and relax after a busy day. You were curious to hear all that occurred between Joel and your parents while you were away that had made them open up to each other more, but you could certainly wait.

“So girls, what was the highlight of your day?” your mom asked, turning to face your daughters.

“We had really nice manicures. The woman who did my nails was so much better than mom is. No offense, mom.”

“None taken,” you laughed at your daughter’s blunt statement.

“If it makes you feel better, you can’t be any worse than my dad,” Sarah offered, only contributing to your laughter.

“You’re probably right,” you agreed, playfully nudging Joel.

“I thought we understood that anything regarding my artistic ability is a soft spot?” he attempted to defend himself, but it was already too late.

“Sorry, Joel,” your daughter giggled, encouraging Sarah to giggle along with her.

“I also really liked our manicures, but we went to this really cute café with really good pastries and drinks!” Sarah exclaimed, gratefully accepting the slightly burnt—and just the way she likes it—s’more that you passed her.

“We only got decaf drinks, don’t worry,” you explained as you watched Joel hand Chloe a s’more of her own. “But everything was really good.”

“You would know, since you tried everything,” Chloe teased.

“Thirteen-year-old Chloe is even more sassy than before,” you teased right back. “It’s called the mom tax. Since I was your chauffeur all day, I got to steal a little nibble of your pastries. I think that’s fair.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Sarah added in, grinning mischievously at you.

“I would probably do the same,” Joel interjected, coming to your defense.

“See? This is why I keep you around,” you squeezed his arm and grinned up at your partner.

“Ugh, you guys are always being so gross,” Chloe laughed. “Do you see what we have to put up with?” Chloe directed at her grandparents.

“You know, one day you’ll find someone that you want to be gross with too,” your mother explained.

“No way,” your daughter giggled, standing up and stretching. “Do you wanna go get ready for bed, Sare?”

“Sure!” she said cheerily, popping up and heading inside with her friend.

“Seems like they had a good day,” your father commented once the pair were gone.

“I think so. I hope so. Chlo was pretty bummed when she found out her dad was going to be out of town during her birthday, but I’m pretty sure this has made up for it. Thank you for putting this all together,” you acknowledged.

“Of course! Anything for our girls,” your mom said, smiling softly at you as she reached out to put a hand on your knee.

“Well what did you guys get up to while we were gone?” you asked, hoping to get a little insight into what you missed while you were gone.

“Joel and I did some baking, then he helped your father put together some decorations. Speaking of which, you’re gonna have to help me put up some final touches before the big day.”

“Of course,” you agreed, happy to do anything that would make your daughter’s special day more special.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I can finish up and help you with whatever needs to be done,” Joel offered.

“You’ve already worked so much today, Joel. We  couldn’t possibly ask you to do anything else,” your mother practically gushed. Joel seemed like he was going to protest, opening his mouth before your mother cut him off. “I insist.”

You couldn’t believe that just the previous morning your mother was lecturing you over this man.

“Well, I’m not gonna argue with that. But if you need any help at all, I am more than willing to be there,” Joel reiterated.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” your mom stretched her arms behind her head and yawned. “I’m getting a little tired. Would you like to go set up now?”

You were getting the feeling that the question was less of a question and more of a direction, but you agreed regardless, pressing a kiss to Joel’s cheek before you went back inside with your mom to help set up the last few things for Chloe’s birthday.

Setting things up was about as eventful as you thought it might be, other than the absolute raving your mom was doing over your partner, and the occasional sound of muffled laughter coming from the patio.

“I’m starting to think you like my boyfriend more than you like me,” you commented offhandedly as you tied off a balloon.

“Oh I do,” your mother agreed. “You think I’m bad? You should see your father. Yesterday he was so wary of Joel, but today those two have just been giggling and bonding all day. I should’ve known it was a wrap after your boyfriend made a stupid dad joke,” she glanced over at the glass door leading to the backyard.

“So what changed his mind?” you asked, setting down the balloon. “What changed yours?”

“After talking to him for a while, it was just very obvious how much he loves you and the girls. He also just happens to be a very likable guy. I don’t know how you ever managed to hate him before.”

“I already told you, it was like we were flirt-arguing!” you insisted.

“I know, I’m just teasing. I’ll still be a little cautious, but he seems like a good guy. Now, after he and your dad got over their little awkward thing, they absolutely hit it off. Just started bonding over everything under the sun. Their love of guitar, their love of DIY projects, their love of you…”

You smiled to yourself as you listened to your mom. It was great news that Joel had been able to bond with your parents, despite whatever feelings they’d had towards him previously.

“That’s good to hear. I’m happy you both finally came to your senses. He was worried sick about you guys not liking him.”

“Well, he’s got nothing to worry about now,” your mom flashed you a smile that matched yours as she finished off the balloons. “I think that’s all we needed to do. I’ll wake you up in the morning if I need any extra hands then.”

“Please don’t,” you groaned, pulling yourself out of your chair and glancing back over at the back door, where Joel and your father still seemed to be having a great time. When you looked back over, your mother was approaching you with open arms.

“I’m sorry, honey. I know you’ve already been through so much, and you wouldn’t purposely put yourself through that again,” she began as she embraced you. The apology was like music to your ears. You just hoped that Joel had also received some form of apology from your parents, as he was the one receiving the majority of the pushback. “I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for leaving Nathan, and I’m proud of you for focusing on yourself, and I’m proud of you for finding someone good for you when you were finally ready.”

“I love you. I’m pretty fond of your boyfriend, too. Goodnight,” your mother bid you farewell, and you couldn’t even think of a proper response before she was already going up the stairs. You had much to process tonight.

Long after you’d fallen asleep, you woke up to the feeling of the mattress shifting its weight. When you turned over onto your side to see what the disturbance was, you just barely made out your partner in the dark.

“It’s just me,” Joel whispered as he settled in bed next to you. Like you were a magnet, you found yourself clinging onto him almost automatically.

“Hi,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Hi,” he repeated, settling his arm on your hip.

“How was today?” you asked, nudging Joel over enough for him to be on his side so that you could spoon him.

“Really good, I think. I think your parents kinda like me now,” he yawned, relaxing into your touch as you held him.

“Kinda?” you muttered sleepily. “What did I tell you? They’d come around eventually.”

“You were right. I should’ve listened earlier,” he confessed as he fell into a more and more relaxed state.

“Maybe. I could care less about their opinion of you. That’s what I wish you listened to earlier,” you explained. “But I am happy that they like you so much.”

You were up bright and early to put the last little finishing touches on Chloe’s birthday decorations. You and your father taped up a few ‘happy birthday’ signs, while your mother and Joel worked on decorating Chloe’s birthday cake. Not much longer after you came downstairs, Sarah found herself downstairs helping to put her own creative spin on the cake as well.

After some discussion of when it would be acceptable to wake up Chloe, you all headed upstairs to her room to wish her a happy birthday.

As her door opened and everyone began to sing slightly off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ Chloe slowly began to sit up as she grew more and more awake before she broke into a fit of slightly embarrassed laughter.

It was quite the scene, and probably not the most ideal wake-up call, but your daughter grinned and expressed her gratitude regardless, getting out of bed so she could attempt to pull everyone into a big group hug.

“Ugh, I love you guys so much,” she sighed fondly. “How did I get the best family ever?”

You were starting to wonder the same yourself.

[maliciouslove]

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕡

✧ pairing: fuckboy smileball barista!denki x reader  ✧ summary: having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.  ✧ word count: 5.5k ✧ tags: dubcon(?), manipulation(?), weed and alcohol use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, pussyjob, unprotected sex, pulling out, size difference (denki is Tall and Lanky TM), unappropriate work relationship, scummy denki, no feelings.

✧ my submission for the @bastardblvd Slimeball collab ✧

✧ AN: happy birthday to my little slimy fuckboy denks <3 this was so fun to work on, genuinely love being a grimetown resident now. the fanart is made by me but i'm no pro so.. be kind please. :D it was written in a daze so if you see discrepancies.. look away. based on my own tiny starbucks where i work (i am slimebucks denki incarnate). you may expect of me to make this a slimebucks series.. katsuki or touya next? ;)

Denki doesn’t like morning shifts — he doesn’t like how grumpy people are first thing in the morning because it makes scoring dates much harder for him. No matter how bubbly and pleasant he is, Monday mornings are just a bad time to flirt with clients. Most customers don’t even spare a glance at him, too busy figuring out their schedule for the day and burying their noses in their phones. He does, however, enjoy the morning business attire — stockings, pencil skirts, white shirts that allow him to see the outline of a bra underneath… and those heels. Something about office fashion always getshim riled up. 

Typically, if he couldn’t strike up a conversation with the morning customers he would settle for watching them, eyes trailing down their crossed legs when they sit down to enjoy their coffee. He would follow their elegant movements and the curves of their bodies — from the corners of their painted lips turning upward in delight after a sip of hot coffee, to their dainty ankles decorated by the ankle strap of their heels swinging to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the speakers.

That is how his Mondays usually go, yet today he couldn't even enjoy that, all because of a new recruit.

His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.

Bummer. 

According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun. 

His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.

“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.” 

“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty. 

Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting. 

“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.” 

There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?

“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.

With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.

“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today. 

“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.” 

“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head. 

He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him. 

“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.

“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.” 

Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves. 

“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it. 

“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”

“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.” 

The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash. 

“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.” 

You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once. 

“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?” 

“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight. 

“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers. 

The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day. 

Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word. 

Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order. 

“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking. 

“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?” 

“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?” 

You nod and head to the back of house energetically.

Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand. 

Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans. 

“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.” 

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?” 

Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side. 

He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay. 

“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence. 

“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–” 

“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?” 

Denki snorts out a laugh. 

“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage. 

“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?” 

You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face. 

The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight. 

When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you. 

And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car. 

“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off. 

“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up. 

“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on. 

Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are. 

“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.” 

And there you go — giving him another opportunity. 

“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke. 

“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?” 

Score.

“Sounds perfect.”

He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki. 

Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.

“Cute place.” 

“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.” 

Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you? 

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.” 

As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer. 

“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts. 

“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked. 

“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap. 

“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up. 

“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known. 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire. 

“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers. 

Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying. 

His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his. 

Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him. 

“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you. 

You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control. 

He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours. 

“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray. 

Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.

“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.” 

His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—

Ding dong!

The pizza has arrived. 

“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table. 

“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?” 

“I was hoping for a different meal.” 

His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more. 

Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple. 

“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off. 

There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.

You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.

“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.” 

Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole. 

Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth. 

You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes. 

“F-fuuck… Denki, please...” 

Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him. 

At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs. 

Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit. 

It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down. 

One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first. 

Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face. 

You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him. 

Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs. 

Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds. 

You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind. 

“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes. 

You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock. 

Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp. 

“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look. 

Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure. 

God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.

“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.” 

Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.

Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.  

Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.” 

After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions. 

“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?” 

Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down. 

“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…” 

He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?” 

“See you then.” 

Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath. 

Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”. 

“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.” 

“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?” 

“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[jello-library]

The Roommate Program (PT 2/?)

Finally part 2!! This one focus more on the reader/self insert!

Also I want to try writing the letters so you can get a feel of what being written instead of just getting vague descriptions!

I hope you enjoy it! 💛

Your first letter from your pen pal was…something else…to say the least. Paired with a prickly friendship bracelet. You felt like you opened Pandora's box with that first letter.

You sigh as you sit down in your office chair looking down at the blank sheet of paper nervously. What in the world do you write back? I mean, writing a letter about yourself is easy but continuing conversations is harder than it looks. What do you say now “Hey I heard you went to solitary confinement was it fun?” Like how you continue talking with him?!

Twirling the pen in your hands your wings twitch and flutter nervously. You joined the program because being a past patient at the Theraprism who managed to opt out of the recarnation ceremony praise the axolotl for that one. You thought it was nice to try to give back to them you know to show that redemption is worth the effort! You felt like you had a pleasant experience there or maybe because you were more cooperative than your peers.

But after the copious amount of interviews and several months of being on the waiting list.

You finally were met with a small envelope congratulating you on your approval into the program and your pen pal. You thought things were finally going well for a chance.

Until…you were brought to have a one-on-one conversation with THE Axolotl themselves you felt like maybe this wasn’t a good idea anymore…They wanted to talk about your pen pal, Bill Cipher. You were somewhat familiar with the name mostly being associated with the chaos he left in his wake.

He was a force to be reckoned with.

Was…

“He is someone who is quite..um…complex..” Look up from your teacup to glance at the other being across the table. The word “Complex” still feels like an understatement to you. The axolotl smiled down at your eyes laced with slight concern before continuing.

“I’ve read your file..” Shit. ”You seem to have been the star patient during your stay. Self-admitted leading to 500,000 years stay before you were released. The top storyteller during puppet hour.“

You can feel yourself getting hot with embarrassment as you sink into your seat. “Yeah, Dr.Oswald says he misses my shows…” You swirl around the remaining tea left within the cup. You don’t know what to say or why they brought you here to begin with. Did all the other participants go through this conversation as well?

“I already know why he joined the program. But I hope for a better outcome than another trip to Wellness Void and I think you can help me with that.”

Looking back down at the blank sheet of paper the pen feels more lighter in your hand now. Just breathe and relax if you mess up you can fix it later.

Dear Bill,

Sorry for my first letter being so plain I can honestly admit I’m a bit nervous about messing this up. I never knew how to talk to someone without it feeling awkward so this is a new step for me. As someone who used to be in the same position you’re in I feel like I can you some advice on how to make your stay less boring! Like, if you want to get out of group therapy it’s time to start taking advantage of art time!

Start doing big projects that take up time with this when art time is over you can ask to stay. But it’s important to say it so can present your piece to the next time group therapy session! Use this advice sparingly those counselors in there are nice but they ain’t dumb! Also if the vending machine is still in the cafeteria hold down on the C button it should give you an extra snack but it’s sadly randomized.

Well, I hope this letter finds you well and also thank you for the bracelet I hope to make you something special when I write to you again!

Sincerely,

██████

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Han x Reader

Summary: You and Han have been dancing around your feelings for each other for… a while, if you're being honest. It doesn't help that your self-doubt makes it hard to make any move, that you're mean enough to scare most people away and oh, yeah, that his ex hates your guts. So when the three of you are at a party together and there are drinking games involved, what could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.2k

Genres: college AU, friends to lovers

Warnings & Tags: implied past bullying/ostracizing of the reader, jealousy (duh), kissing (rating T on the verge of rating M, so it remains fairly tame), mentioned alcohol, drinking games, self-deprecating narrator, language.

series masterlist

A/N: this took forever because I was almost done with it when I realized what I'd written didn't work with the theme, so I had to start all over again. This is also my first time writing Han, so I hope you'll enjoy it!

As usual, you hear Jisung before you see him. It's not all that surprising, the boy’s pretty loud, and, if you didn’t have a misanthropic reputation to uphold, you might even admit that you like hearing his laugh when you walk across campus, or when you catch him mid rant as you walk into the cafeteria.

Thing is, it also means that he’s around people, and you don’t… do… people. So, even though seeing him is invariably a highlight in your day, when you hear his voice, you find yourself debating whether you should head in another direction. If you don’t, you’ll have to talk to him, and as a result, them, whoever they are, because it would be weird not to, right, and you’re just not sure you have the energy for that right now.

Or ever.

Today, as isn’t uncommon, you freeze for a second, take a step back, then decide to push on. If anyone noticed that, you probably just looked extremely weird, but it’s likely that no one was paying attention, and so you keep going with a minimal amount of mortification, for now anyway. You might ruminate over it later today, like you will if there’s any hitch in the conversation that's coming, but that’s a problem for 2 a.m. you.

You’re somewhat relieved to find that Jisung’s chatting with Chan and Changbin. You’re not close with them, but you kinda get along with Changbin, and though you find Chan intimidating, your interactions with him so far have been fine, which is high enough of a bar to clear as far as you’re concerned.

Jisung notices you almost immediately, which fills you with pleasant warmth, and he waves at you with a bright smile. You choose to take that as an invitation to come closer and an indication that you wouldn’t be interrupting anything — if it’s not, that’s on him because it was unclear — and make your way over to them.

“On your way to an exam?” Jisung asks you once you’ve reached them.

“Do you think I would make myself late to talk to you?” you reply with a frown.

It makes him laugh. Sometimes it worries you, how funny Jisung seems to find you when you’re being mean. If it was when you’re being a dick to someone else, why not, but to him too? Is he okay?

“I can’t tell if this is you being a good influence on him or not,” Chan says, tilting his head. There’s an amused glint in his eyes too. Okay, that means you’re not doing too bad.

“Are you guys done with classes?” you ask. “Were you heading to the studio?”

“No,” Jisung is quick — maybe a little too quick — to answer. “We were just talking about a track we’re working on.”

Four eyes narrow on him, and Changbin grins.

“Yeah, ‘cause Jisung here’s been feeling all romantic lately, right?”

Jisung throws him a horrified look.

“You’ve been turning in very sappy lyrics lately, hm?” Chan keeps going.

“I’m the draught, you’re rain, I’m paper, you’re a poem, wasn’t it?” Changbin quotes from memory, a wide, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Do you want to die?” Jisung asks, eyes so wide they look like marbles.

The two guys exchange a knowing look, both grinning. It’s not that often they get the drop on Jisung and can tease him, for a change. They obviously find that to be a nice change of pace, but you’re not sure where that leaves you.

Because, okay, you’re not completely clueless. The lyrics could be about you. Jisung’s expressed interest in you before. He’s kissed you. Remains the question of whether that interest was romantic or just sexual.

But the thought that the lyrics are not about you? That he feels that way about another person? It fills your stomach with stones and makes it sink to the bottom of the ocean. Just thinking about it make tears spring to your eyes and you glance to the side to will them to go away.

This is bad. You’re way too far gone. What a fucking dumbass you can be, for someone who’s as academically gifted as you are.

“At least it’s not about cheating, hm?” Jisung says, staring at Chan who seems to find the ground very interesting all of a sudden.

“That’s an uncharitable interpretation of the lyrics,” he mumbles, but he appears quite eager to drop the subject after that. You find that a bit suspicious and you’d kinda like to find out what the golden boy on campus might be trying to hide, but Jisung seems relieved to be able to drop the subject as well.

“Hey,” Jisung says the second the topic’s been let go of, attention snapping to another idea so fast it sometimes makes your head spin, “I’ve been meaning to ask—”

“Oh right,” Changbin says, glancing at his phone, “there’s Sana’s party tonight. You guys coming?”

Jisung pulls a face, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like he doesn’t get regularly interrupted — and it’s not malicious either, it’s just that he, uh, talks a lot. Sometimes people end up cutting him off. In Changbin’s case, you suspect he didn’t even notice.

“I already told her we would,” Chan says, and Jisung’s face gets longer. You suspect he’d completely forgotten about it.

“Are you coming too?” he asks you, a hint of pleading in his voice.

See, even this is a dilemma. Going to a party means you’ll be forced to be in the presence of people who dislike you and who you find fundamentally uninteresting, especially since Seungmin’s been a no-show to most of these now that he’s dating. Even if you go only to see Jisung, you know people will be trying to get his attention all night, and you’ll be lucky if you get to spend ten minutes alone with him before midnight — maybe you’ll get him to yourself for a whole half-hour at around four am though. On top of that, there’s a significant risk that people will talk to him while he’s standing next to you and completely ignore you, and you’ll spend the whole time praying for a hole to open under your feet.

On the other hand, you can’t refuse him anything, and it would be far more devastating to pass on the chance to spend some more time with him.

So you just say “Sure”.

After spending more time on your outfit than you feel comfortable admitting — this isn’t a date, dammit — you show up at the sorority Sana’s a part of. Though your dress feels too short, you’re relieved to feel self-assured on your high heels. Yes, it took practicing walking in them, but it’s paying off in confidence, and it’s a price you’re willing to pay.

People are already there when you arrive, gathered on the porch, filling the house, spilling out on the balconies. You get a few looks, but it’s not like you’re not used to them. At least you’re not pretending that you don’t give a fuck. Many of them don’t like you, and you don’t like them either.

Walking in, you find yourself hesitating. Would it be weird if you just tried to find Jisung right away? Should you try to socialize, spend a few minutes talking to the rare people you know and get along here?

You may not particularly care about what people think, most of the time, but you do care about what he thinks. And the thing is, you know people talk, especially about him, especially since 3racha’s popularity blew up last year. The last thing you want is for him to think that you’re some desperate, embarrassing idiot who’s been misreading—

Enough with the line of thinking. If he’s not interested, he shouldn’t have kissed you. And, okay, the first time was a week after the break-up with his girlfriend, and he was crying, and you don’t think it meant anything to him, but the second time, this summer? It had to have meant something. He wasn’t cruel like that— You didn’t think.

You’re still grateful to make eye contact with Changbin, because it makes things a little easier. You go up to him, exchange a few words, he introduces you to some of the people who’ve flocked to him, they pretend to be interested, and once you decide that you’ve made enough of an impression, you leave them with a polite, though forced, smile.

Finding Jisung isn’t all that hard, you just have to follow the laughter.

You know that he likes his peace and quiet, too, but on a night like that, he’ll be prepared to entertain. Someone else might think that it comes naturally to him, the jokes, the antics, the comedy, but you know better. You know that there’s a surprising amount of work that goes into how good he is at this, how easy he makes it look. You know that, when he’s around you, he’s actually fairly quiet, that he sometimes hangs out on your couch, on his phone, while you’re reading, but pouts if you leave the room.

When you find him, it seems him and the group he’s with are in the middle of some drinking games. You hesitate, again. You recognize some of the girls there as part of the girls’ swimming team, the one whose captain is Jisung’s ex. Who’d hated your guts since first year, independently from Jisung, and then, uh, dependently from Jisung, you’re pretty sure. She was single-handedly responsible for half of campus thinking you were a bitch, a feat that even you find somewhat impressive.

You’d almost respect it, if, you know. It hadn’t made your life hell until you managed to stop giving a fuck.

But Jisung spots you. He always does. You don’t know how he does it, half suspect that he’s on some Spiderman shit, but he finds you in the crowd, and his eyes widen, and his smile brightens, and God, it’s not fair, how he makes you feel when he’s not even yours.

Having Jisung’s undivided attention is— one of the best feelings in the world. Genuinely. He just has a way of making you feel like you matter. It’s a bunch of things he does, one of them being the way he makes people laugh. He always— caters his jokes to the person around him. That means he pays attention, means he remembers, means he cares. That’s already a lot.

“You made it,” he says, a soft edge to his tone, when you reach him. His hand reaches for your arm, pulling you into the circle, then hovers at your elbow, sometimes brushing against your skin. This is another one of the changes that have happened since the summer. He’s more— tactile, and it does all sorts of things to you.

You don’t mind. You don’t mind at all.

“You look good,” he adds, voice low enough that you’re the only one to hear it. You do your best to repress the shiver it sends down your spine.

“Thanks,” you reply, your usually sharp tongue unable to find something to reply.

“Jisung!” some voice calls, and you manage at the last second not to roll your eyes — thank God, ‘cause there’d be hell to pay if you had.

Because it’s Jihyun. Because of course it is. If there’s one thing you can’t take away from her, it’s that she always has impeccable timing. Not for you, naturally, for herself.

If it was just you, you’d be out the door in seconds, leaving the scene before risking any kind of confrontation. Being with Jisung right now means that she won’t directly be a bitch to you, she’s never done it upfront in front of him. She instead goes the passive-agressive route which, bless his precious heart, he basically never picks up on.

You also never spoke about it with him. At first because she was his fucking girlfriend and he clearly adored her, even if there was so much that set them apart, and since then because, well, you’re still afraid you’ll come off as some jealous bitch or he won’t believe you or, worse, take her side. Tell you that you were every bit the bitch she says you are, and that she was right for the shit she put you through.

You only have seconds to brace for impact. But as you compose yourself, not bothering to smile, Jisung’s hand settles on the small of your back.

Which, hmmm, you’d be happy about in pretty much any other circumstances, but right now? Right now it might not be the best thing for you.

“It’s been a while,” she tells Jisung with a stunning smile. “How have you been doing?”

Jisung smiles too, though somewhat tighter. They’re on good terms, from what you’ve heard, but that’s not really something you’ve discussed with him. You force yourself to tune them out quickly, letting your eyes wander in the room. Just being around her makes your chest tighten. You feel on edge, feel the need to watch all of your gestures and anything that leaves your mouth in fear that it will be used against you.

Fuck, you were supposed to be over that.

Whatever Jisung answers, it makes her laugh. She leans forward, puts her hand on his arm. She makes it looks so easy, so natural. Same with how she pushes her hair behind her ear, keeps her voice at the right pitch, even laughs the right way, light and airy. If you tried to flirt the way she does, you’d only embarrass yourself. You'd look delusional. There’d be nothing sexy or attractive about it.

You’re just bad at making people like you.

It’s impossible not to be reminded of the fact that this is who Jisung went for. You don't know if you can go as far as to say she’s his type, but he did choose to date her, and you know how much he cared for her.

With her around right now, it’s really fucking hard to think that he would go for someone like you and that you haven’t been letting yourself get carried away.

On a related note, are you going to have an emotional break down in the middle of the room?

“…and things are looking pretty good for the team, we think we’ll get to the nationals this year,” Jihyun concludes cheerfully.

Wow, that’s impressive! Shouldn’t she be training for that then?

Maybe she has a point. You are a bitch.

“That’s cool,” Jisung says. “Well, it was nice running into you again.”

Her smile falters, just barely, but you don't miss it. She’s good at hiding things, but you’re better at noticing them. Know your enemy and all that.

You’d almost feel bad for her. If you’d had Jisung’s undivided time and attention, and you lost it? Yeah. You don’t know how you’d cope.

But then her eyes light up again, and again, she’s really fucking good at that shit.

“What are you guys playing?” she asks. “I’d love to join.”

You’re not unaware of the way Jisung’s hand closes slightly on your back. As he turns around, he ends up pulling you a little closer to him and your stomach tightens. Less because of his proximity, though obviously that affects you too, and more because you have the sinking feeling that this is about her. Is he— using you to make her jealous?

No. There’s no way. He would never do that.

Right?

“Just some never have I ever for now,” Sana chirps in answer. She gives the three of you a warm smile, and you think she means it. You’ve never gotten shit from her, and that says a lot. Normally you’d argue that people shouldn’t be neutral or anything, but in your case, neutral seems to be too much to ask for, in most cases.

“Alright!” Jihyun grins, lifting her cup as if to signal that she’s ready to enter the game. “Never have I ever… had sex with someone at a party.”

She drinks almost immediately, a cute giggle slipping past her lips, and so do a bunch of other people.

“None of you get close to my room,” Sana warns sternly, and several people laugh.

It’s not until you feel Jisung moving to drink from his cup and catch a glance of his burning red ears that you realize what Jihyun’s point was. With someone else, it might be self-centered to assume you were the intended target. With her, you don’t doubt it a second. Just a little reminder that he used to be hers.

There are a few whistles at Jisung’s attention, but he keeps his eyes down. It doesn’t surprise you that it would make him uncomfortable. It kinda surprises you that she wouldn’t care, though. She’s evil incarnate, but she seemed to care about him, in her own way.

“Aw,” she says, staring straight at you with her sweetest smile, “don’t worry, we’ll find you someone.”

There was a time where that might have upset you, but right now you won’t give her the satisfaction. You let your gaze flicker over her, face-shoes-face, and then glance away with a scoff. It makes you look like a haughty bitch, but, well, you’re already known for being a haughty bitch, so who cares.

Jisung chuckles discreetly next to you. That makes it worth it.

The game goes on without catching much of your interest after that. Jihyun’s sentences remain pointed — either towards Jisung or you, you’re pretty sure, though you doubt anyone notices. At least Jisung doesn’t move away from you for most of it, chin sometimes coming to rest on your shoulder, fingers running gently over your arms, the occasional whispered comment in your ear.

Heat pools in your stomach the whole time, and you’re unable to focus on anything but him. His firm body’s pressed against your back, his proximity overwhelming. You feel that you should drag him away and finally talk about what’s going on between the two of you, but you’re afraid you’ll break the spell if you do.

Eventually, he’s the one who does, peeling himself away from you when Chan shouts from downstairs to get his attention.

It feels cold when he’s gone.

It feels colder when Jihyun’s eyes zero in on you.

Hm. Maybe flight would be the better option right now.

You’re not sure how it happens, but the game shifts not long after Jisung’s left. A bottle appears on the floor, and you tilt your head. Aren’t you all too old for that?

Apparently not, or at least not when so many people are that drunk and giggling at the idea. Soon, some are making out. Others excuse themselves and find a more private spot — Sana reminds everyone that her room should not be that spot, but you’re not sure how efficient that is.

You’re thinking about retreating when you hear someone call your name and again, of course, it’s Jihyun. She gives you a warm smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s your turn!”

There’s tension in the air as you just stare. You don’t want to—

“C’mon, it will be fun!”

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care about what she makes you out to be. But in that moment, you’re back to your first-year self who was still trying to fit and figure out how to make people like you.

So you lean forward and spin the bottle.

It takes you less than a second to realize that that was some dumb fucking decision making. You don’t want to kiss anyone here. The idea vaguely nauseates you, actually, but less than the uncomfortable realization that no one here wants to kiss you. You might be seconds away from facing a harsh, unpleasant rejection. That was probably her point, actually. You fold your arms over your chest, but you still feel your shoulders sink. You know you’re unwanted. You don’t need—

The bottle’s grinding to a stop when a hand shoots out to grab it.

You frown, glance up.

And it’s Jisung. He flashes you a bright smile, then winks.

“Wanna make out?”

Jihyun laughs lightly, tells you to ‘go get it’. But even you can see her heart breaking in her eyes.

None of it matters when Jisung strides over to you and takes your hand in his to pull you away. More people than you’d have expected cheer.

He pulls you into some random room, closes it behind him, and then hesitation appears in his eyes when he looks at you.

“We don’t have to— I mean, I wasn’t trying to make you— If you want to go kiss someone else—”

It sounds like he is down to kiss you, and even if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him before that, you think that little knight in a rock band t-shirt moment would have gotten you going anyway. So you shut your brain up, grab him by his t-shirt, and in the stunned silence that follows, an extremely rare occurence with Jisung, you pull him down towards you.

His lips crash against yours, warm and soft, and after the first few seconds of surprise, during which you see him blinking at you with impossibly wide eyes, he kisses you back like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. One of his hands comes up to cup your face while the other’s at your waist, squeezing and bringing you closer, not quite daring to make the move to your ass. Yet, anyway.

There’s urgency in the way he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. Your hands trail from his shirt to his arm, feeling his toned biceps underneath you fingers, and you feel him grin against you.

“Find something you like?” he teases, before kissing you again.

This time his tongue brushes against yours, and a moan escapes you. You could feel self-conscious about it, but you don’t, not with him. If anything, it only seems to spur him on further, and he gets closer, his toned thigh pushing between yours. You feel hot all over, anywhere he touches you set ablaze, and oh, do you want this. One of his hands slides up your leg, hitching your dress higher.

“Have I told you I really like this dress?” he asks, because apparently he can’t shut up even in moments like that.

He doesn’t let you answer though, and again he’s kissing you, making your head spin. You can’t figure out what to focus on. The softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, how his hand is slowly making its way higher up your thigh, setting your skin ablaze, probably intentionally teasing you. Whatever it is, you’re melting under his hands. You want more, undeniably so.

He pulls away for just a second, catching his breath. His chest is heaving quickly, his lips swollen, and you can’t help but think that this is your doing, a thought that somehow turns you on even further. Dark, dilated pupils meet yours, and you think you see a desire that mirrors your own. He licks his lips briefly, glances at the bed in the room. Then his eyes meet yours again. He swallows.

“Do you—”

You jump away when someone tries to open the door.

“Is someone in there?”

Shit. Shit.

It’s Sana.

“No one better be in there,” she says threateningly.

You exchange a panicked look. She’s the sweetest person in the world, but you don’t want to cross her.

In a second, Jisung steps away from you and he’s at the window. He opens it, looks out, and then he throws one leg over the edge.

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“Saving our lives,” he replies very seriously, stepping out fully on what you assume is the roof over the porch. “Come on,” he adds, “I’ll help you out.“

You roll your eyes, walk over to him and close the window, shooing him away with a gesture of the hand. Then you open the door, and though Saya eyes you suspiciously, you think she believes your story about being tired and wanting a rest and not having realized you’d locked the door.

Then you walk downstairs and let yourself fall on a couch, right next to Jisung, who seems to be all pouty that you refused to escape with him. His thigh brushes against yours, and your stomach does a somersault, but neither of you says anything about— well. About the thing you should be talking about. The moment’s passed, and self-doubt is assaulting you all over again.

Still, right now, you’re the person who gets to let your head fall on Jisung’s shoulder, and it’s your hand he intertwines his fingers with.

In that moment, you’re sure that the two of you will be alright eventually. It’s probably going to take a while, ‘cause you’re too much of a coward and Jisung’s— well, you’re not quite sure what his deal is, but there’s definitely something there.

But, eventually, you’ll be alright.

And there is no space in your brain, at that moment, to spare a single thought for Jihyun, because she’s lost him a long time ago.

Even if neither of you seem to be able to admit it, in all the ways that matter, he’s already yours.

okayyy, again, there's kinda Lore there. i don't know if i'll end up writing it, but in case you're wondering, OC was paired with Jihyun for a class during their first year. essentially, Jihyun was pretty busy due to being on the swimming team and other personal stuff. OC ended up constantly doing all the work for the both of them, and sometimes Jihyun would say she'd do stuff and not do it. eventually, after OC was forced to complete stuff in one night and abandoned for a group presentation, there was a nasty altercation with Jihyun and the teacher became aware of the situation, resulting in a bad outcome for Jihyun. lots of people felt that OC was unfair and should have been more understanding, and OC still doesn't know if that was the right thing, but felt used and upset during the situation. Jihyun also vilifies OC when talking about it, a lot, and OC ended up being kinda ostracized after that. so yeah.

if you read all this, uh, thank you, i hope you enjoyed this, it's my first time writing Han and I love him dearly and I hope this works. it would mean the world if you could reblog this, leave a comment or anything like that! as an author, this is really the only way we get to see that our work is appreciated and it's trully what keeps me writing so it's super important :) thank you for reading and i'll see you later for Hyunjin!

[dark-fics-4-you]

My Girl

(Childhood Friends)Rafe CameronxReader with a side of TopperxReader

Synopsis: Rafe Cameron doesn’t like that you’ve been hooking up with Topper. He decides to show you who you really belong to.

Warnings: noncon !! smut, unprotected sex, alcohol, drugs, gaslighting, toxic!Rafe

The haze of the party envelopes you after your fourth tequila shot.

You speak to friends in a blur, in one conversation before blinking your eyes and across the room in another when you open them. You don’t mind though, the booze makes you feel more social, more comfortable.

Your attention is caught by a voice calling out, “Who wants a bump??”

You turn your head to see the man offering to share his drugs. Rafe Cameron.

“I’m game.” You step over to the table, and watch Rafe set the line up for you.

You and Rafe had known each other since kindergarten, having attended all the same schools growing up.

He was arrogant, quick tempered, and one of your best friends. Despite his negative traits, Rafe had stuck by you for many years, and you appreciated him for that. Sure he could be a bit clingy, and overly flirtatious, but you always knew he had his sight set on other girls.

“Ready, princess?” Rafe drawled, eyebrow cocked in a challenge.

“I was born ready,” you joked, and leaned over the table, taking the rolled dollar bill from Rafe.

You snorted the line, enjoying the pleasant head rush that followed.

“Not bad, not bad.” Rafe conceded, before leaning over to do a line himself.

You spun on your heel as you heard someone else enter the kitchen.

Topper greeted you with a wink, and you felt your cheeks flush, averting your gaze.

You had been secretly hooking up with Topper for a few weeks now, and you had been trying hard to keep that from the rest of your friend group.

You glanced up to see Rafe staring at you, a strange look in his eyes. One that you couldn’t quite place, but unnerved you nevertheless.

He stepped back to the table, quickly setting up and snorting another line. His jaw ticked and you watched his pupils grow unfocused.

He poured himself a shot, setting the glass down after. Rafe turned to a friend and you relaxed, venturing out of the kitchen to find more friends.

The rest of the night, you floated around different groups, talking to different people, but all the while, you swore, you felt like you were being watched.

You glanced around nonchalantly, hoping that it was just your nerves playing tricks on you. No one seemed to be paying you much attention.

You needed another drink, now.

Back in the kitchen, you made yourself a strong rum and coke, bringing it back out to the living room with you.

You sat down, sipping your drink and trying to relax, but the prickling feeling that you were being watched burned the back of your neck, and you swiveled around to lock eyes with Rafe, staring at you from across the room.

His eyes were cold, calculating, but you didn’t have the first clue to what he was thinking. Your eyes flicked away, not wanting to start any confrontation. What the fuck was that about?

You finished your drink, head swimming and vision starting to get blurry. The coke was mixing with the alcohol, making you feel incredibly intoxicated.

You could hear the muffled voices of your friends, but you felt far away, like they were calling to you from some distant shore.

“Y/N? You good?”

“Duude she is out of it right now.”

“Probably should just let her sleep it off.”

“I could bring her to one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. Let her lie down there? I’ll make sure she doesn’t throw up.”

You wanted to protest, ‘i’m fine! you guys are being dramatic!’ but your brain was disconnected from your mouth. You couldn’t have lifted your head if you tried.

The voices seemed to be in some agreement and a tall figure appeared in your vision, strong arms reaching out to lift you up off the couch.

Still out of it and surprised to be picked up, you took a deep breath through your nose, inadvertently smelling the cologne of the man carrying you. It was a pleasant smell and you thought you recognized it as Topper’s.

“Mmm you smell nice, Topper,” you slur, not fully sure if your words came out audible. You felt safe in his arms.

He started to ascend the stairs, and you pressed your head against his firm chest. “So warm,” you murmured. “I’m so tired.”

The man carrying you was silent, the only sounds you could hear were the din of the party and the music thumping below.

The door opened in front of you, and Topper walked to the bed in the dimly lit room before gently laying you down on it.

You rolled over, ready to fall asleep, listening to the sounds of the footsteps leave your room.

Only, he didn’t leave your room. He walked to the open door, then closed it and turned the lock.

You slowly flipped over in bed, ready to question Topper, and your eyes met Rafe Cameron’s seconds before his lips were on yours. Adrenaline shot through you, and you tried to push him away in shock.

The stronger man climbed on top of you in bed, straddling you and catching your wrists in his hands.

“What are you do-“ your frantic question was swallowed by Rafe as his lips smothered yours again.

He let go of your arms to drag his hands to your chest, eagerly pulling at your top. He groped you roughly, fingers edging under the thin material of your shirt, setting a blaze of heat on your skin.

Your voice trembled, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes, “Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?? Stop!”

“What, you think you’re too good for me or something?” Rafe murmured darkly, one hand snaking around your throat. “You’ll give up for Topper but not me, hm? Little slut, I can fuck anyone I want.”

The weight of his threat was almost more suffocating than the fingers at your throat taking your breath away.

You thrashed, kicking your feet against him, desperately trying to squirm out from under him. Rafe rolled his eyes, loosening the pressure around your throat.

“Y-you’re high,” your voice wavered, weak from his strong grip. “Stop it Rafe I’m not kidding, this is-”

“Shhhh. This would be easier for you if you just relaxed, Y/N, I’m gonna make you feel good,” Rafe purred into your ear, but his cold tone made your stomach churn with nausea. His rough fingers groped at your skirt, pulling it off and tossing it over his shoulder. Rafe removed his shirt and you took in the rippling muscles of his chest and arms.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, and slowly grinded his now obvious erection against your barely clothed core.

His fingertips traced under your top to feel your lower back and he pulled the shirt off over your head. You squirmed against him, trying desperately to cover yourself, but his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists and you let out a yelp. Rafe glared at you, jaw clenched, and he let out a long breath through his nose, seemingly trying to calm himself, “Don’t make me hurt you, Y/N. This doesn’t have to be difficult.”

Rafe let go of your wrists and brought his hands down to your breasts, cupping them over your bra. His fingers traced up your chest and he slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, pulling it down to your stomach and exposing you despite your breathless pleas for him to stop.

Your head was spinning and your skin broke out in goosebumps where his fingertips grazed you. He plucked at your chest, rolling one nipple between his fingers before turning his attention to the other. Rafe slowly leaned in and took the hard bud into his mouth, tongue flicking against your tender skin.

Your fingers gripped his muscular arms, nails digging in, futilely hoping it might deter him.

Rafe nipped at your breast, lightly biting the sensitive bud and you could barely stifle your moan.

“Mm that’s my girl,” his blue eyes glinted as they met yours, and you shivered at his words, bile rising in your throat. My girl.

Rafe trailed a hand down your leg, fingertips roughly pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. One finger looped around the elastic of your panties, and he pulled the flimsy material down your legs.

He pressed his lips to yours again, tongue probing into your mouth this time, before slowly pushing a digit into your slick core and lazily circling your clit with his thumb.

You gasped against his lips at the intrusion, giving in to a pathetic whine as the pressure between your hips rose. Hot tears spilled past your lashes while your conflicted emotions warred within you.

It all felt wrong. Very wrong.

The man you once trusted, who you once would have called your best friend, met your eyes with a dark gaze, blown pupils trailing from yours down to your exposed body. “God you are so fucking sexy. I should have done this ages ago.”

Your skin crawled at his words and you tried desperately to squeeze your legs together, but he was much stronger than you, swearing under his breath, “Don’t be such a fucking tease,” and forced your legs open. You threw your head back in a silent scream when you felt him roughly press a second finger into you.

He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, thumb meeting your clit again before his blue eyes flitted to yours. They widened as a moan escaped your lips and a cruel smirk spread across Rafe’s face.

“Are you going to be a good girl or are you going to make this difficult?” The blond purred, fingers curling inside you.

“I-I’ll be g-good,” you stammered, barely able to process what was happening. Your stomach lurched as the full weight of the situation finally hit you. Why was he doing this??

Rafe pushed down his shorts, wrapping a hand around his hard length. He stroked himself a few times before pressing his cock against your slick folds, teasingly rubbing the tip on your clit before entering you in one thrust.

You yelped in pain, the pressure unbearable. Rafe laughed mockingly, “It’s a big dick but I know you can take it.”

His eyes never left yours, even when you tried to look away, his tight grip on your chin forcing you to meet his gaze. Rafe slowly grinded his hips into yours, a sick grin on his face while you struggled beneath him.

“Really, Y/N, I have been thinking about fucking you like this since high school. Always acting so sweet and innocent, but I know what you really need, sweetheart,” Rafe taunted, picking up his pace. His fingers roughly pressed into the back of your upper leg, and he hooked his hand around your ankle, bringing your foot to rest on his shoulder while he pounded into you, the change of angle allowed him to fuck you deeper.

His fingers circled your clit, drawing shameful whimpers of pleasure from your lips.

“Did he ever make you cum?” Rafe’s words surprised you and for a second you didn’t register what he was saying. “Did Topper ever make you cum, Y/N?” He repeated the words slowly, like you were stupid for misunderstanding him.

Your cheeks burned and hot tears threatened to spill over again. You shook your head ‘no’.

“Aw don’t cry, princess,” Rafe cooed, never slowing his relentless pace. Your stomach turned at his familiar pet name for you, now it just made you feel sick. “You’re doing so good. I’ll help you through it.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again, this time you didn’t have the willpower to fight back. “Oh my god you’re so perfect. Gonna make me cum in that tight little pussy.”

Icy fear shot through your veins. He wasn’t wearing a condom. Your head was pounding, and the overstimulation was too much for you to bear. Rafe sneered triumphantly and another twitch of his fingers and snap of his hips finally pushed you over the edge.

You bit down on your lip, whining as your vision was dotted with stars, and Rafe fucked you through your orgasm. The pleasure mixed with the horror of the situation you found yourself in left you breathless.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna-” Rafe let out a groan, rutting into you with three long thrusts before stilling, forcing you to milk his cock as long as possible. The slick warmth between your legs turned your stomach and you wanted to cry.

Rafe’s forehead, now damp with sweat, pressed to yours and he gave you a tender kiss on the lips before pulling out. With disgust, you realized you could feel his cum leaking out of your sore cunt.

“I always knew you were my girl, Y/N. Now you know it too.”

[bigenargy]

What If Twilight had a normal protag?

A/n: I also posted this on wattpad

Overview: In which y/n take on the role of Bella Swan but she doesn't act like a bloody egit.

Warnings: None, hinted Bella slander, I don't think gender is specified..maybe one sentence that readers to the reader as a girl? I spelt Jacob's name wrong on purpose

You'd never given much thought as to how you’d die, but dying in the place of someone you loved always seemed like the dumbest way to go.  

Cause what do you look like taking an L as big as that for some raggedy mofo who you’re not sure would do the same for you? Even so, you don’t regret your decision to leave home. Sure, you’d miss Phoenix and your loving, erratic, and sometimes overbearing mother but she and her husband wanna travel; it’s been a while since you’ve spent time with your dad. You’ve been spending two weeks with him every summer since your parents divorced so moving in with him won’t be that big of an adjustment. 

Your dad, Charlie, is the chief of police. He picked you up in a police car which was strange for you since you used to shout ACAB at them whenever they’d drive by. The drive was mostly pleasant with brief periods of comfortable silence between conversations. You enthusiastically filled your dad in on your life and he quietly listened, only speaking to ask a few questions or to let you know he was listening. 

“Your hair’s longer.” He spoke. 

“I cut it since the last time I saw you though”  

“Oh. Guess it grew out again.” He said awkwardly 

You could tell how embarrassed he was, so you started rambling about all the unique styles and colors you wanted your hair to be and how your mom never allowed you to do them. 

The two of you pulled up the driveway and made your way into the house.  

“I cleared off some shelves for you,” Your Dad said. 

“Oh, thanks dad,” you replied with a small smile.  

See, if you were whiny and ungrateful, you’d complain that there is one bathroom, but you had redeeming qualities, so you didn’t. 

You stepped into your bedroom that looked just the way you left it last summer. It resembled your room at your mom’s with a few different details. 

Your dad made his way downstairs and shortly after you heard a honk. You peered out your window and saw some familiar faces, so you made your way downstairs to say hi.  

Your dad re-introduced you to Billy Black and Jackob then went ahead to fake a fight with Mr. Black, leaving you to get re-acquainted with Jacob. You couldn’t help but smile for the brief time the two of you talked. He was literally so cute.  

Your dad made his way over to you and Jacob and asked what you thought about the old trick he was leaning against. 

“This is mine!?” you asked with the most realistic smile you could muster. In truth, the truck was the ugliest fucking thing you’d ever seen. It looked older than you and the color was atrocious. 

“I totally rebuilt the engine for you,” Jacob said as you ran your hands over it and lied about how perfect it was. 

“I told you she’d love it! I’m down with the cool kids brah.” You heard Mr. Black say. 

‘Be so fucking for real’ you thought to yourself as you entered the truck. 

Jackob showed you the little tricks needed to get it started and you offered him a ride to school. Pulling up in this old piece of metal alone seems like the most embarrassing first day ever. 

“Oh. I go to school on the reservation.” 

You just smiled and slightly nodded in response. You’re actually going to drive to school in this old thing by yourself. 

You quickly ran inside to shower and change since you just sat through a four-hour flight; then you made your way to school. 

You can picture this outfit if you want. 

As you parked your tired excuse of a car you noticed all the kids giggling and pointing at it. 

“Nice ride.” Some kid said. 

“Thanks.” You replied while side-eying him and making your way to the school building. 

“Hi! You must be the new girl, y/n l/n. I’m Eric. The eyes and ears of this place. Anything you need? Tour guide, lunch date, shoulder to cry on?"

“Oh, uh hi, yeah. I’ll take you up on the tour guide offer. I’m not tryna look like a goofy ass Freshman.” 

“Totally, totally. And the lunch date bit?” 

“I don’t know about the date part but if you don’t mind, I'd like to sit with you at lunch. Sitting by myself is just gonna be too depressing.” 

“Hey, I'll take what I can get.” He said, with an ear-to-ear smile that made his slanted eyes look closed. “I can see it now, ‘Woman with a Plan: New Girl’ that’s gonna be a sick title.  

“Title for what?” 

“Your feature. You’re front page, baby.” 

“Mm, I don’t know about that. I mean I literally just walked through the doors.” 

“Okay, cool, no feature.” 

Gym sucked. You didn’t have Eric with you, and you hit some kid named Mike in the head with a ball which summoned a passive-aggressive girl named Jessica who obviously had a thing for Mike. 

A/N: this is a silly goofy idea that came to mind. If it's received well I'll write more so please like and comment to lmk if I should keep writing

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart, Chapter 19

18+ MDNI All chapters

Warning: very heavy on PTSD, dissociation, anxiety, trauma. No smut in this chapter.

on Ao3

Thatch POV

You’d spent a quiet evening watching him work, ending with a pleasant night spent chatting over drinks with others from the fourth division on the deck. You were coming out of your shell somewhat, engaging a little more in conversation that you had before. You largely listened in but occasionally offered your thoughts or opinions. You were intelligent and interested in what the others had to say. Since you’d spent some time in the kitchens, you were on friendly terms with his division, even laughing once at a dumb joke someone made. It made his heart soar to hear your laughter - he thought it might be the first time he’d heard it. A true milestone in your progress. He was jealous that someone else made you laugh but he didn’t doubt that there would be more to come.

You looked tired, so he decided to call an early night for you. Even though you were taking more breaks, you still did not get undisturbed sleep at night. Between that and all the work you took upon yourself, he was still worried about your physical health. Marco and Ace were unavailable, so you were back with him tonight, much to his delight. Even though his cock twitched at the thought of you in his arms again, he wanted to give you some rest. He took your hand and led you back to the stairs, yelling a good night call to his crew. He knew others were watching him leading you to his room, but that was the point. He wanted them to see that you were his - no matter how friendly or engaging you were. They could chat with you but you would never be with any of them. Marco had broken some arms, but that wasn’t Thatch’s way. He preferred a more subtle approach. And if that didn’t work, arms could be broken again.

Once in his room you started to take off your shirt, but Thatch stopped you.

“Allow me, Mami. Arms up,” he said, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands. You looked like he had asked you to jump into the ocean.

“I’ve been undressing myself successfully for years, I think I can do it myself,” you said indignantly while trying to pull away. 

Your snippy frustration was adorable, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. “I know you can. But I want to. It would make me happy, and wouldn’t that make you happy?” You considered his words for a moment then lifted your arms. It was so easy to change your mind, he thought to himself. It worked in his favor but also made him feel slightly sad for you. You were so used to pleasing people that you discarded your own desires quickly when faced with any conflict. 

Thatch stripped you down, letting his hands linger a little. You were so beautiful and you didn’t seem to notice at all. He saw the way the other men watched you on the ship - it wasn’t just because there were so few women. You were exceptional - and all theirs. You tried to cover yourself with your hands.

“Don’t hide, I want to see you,” he said while moving your hands away from your luscious breasts. You were clearly uncomfortable being naked generally but especially in front of them. Even though they all had seen you before some shreds of modesty - or maybe shame - still lingered. It was endearing but he wasn’t going to allow it. His eyes roved over your figure while you looked everywhere but him.

“Magnificent,” he whispered to you, to which you made a face. He was going to help you see just how resplendent you were, one step at a time. He took a clean shirt and put it over your head. It was one of his and it turned him on to see you wearing his overly large clothes. He rolled the sleeves while you put your arms through. He loved taking care of you, anticipating your needs, and providing for you. He got a thrill when you depended on him - when you had to come to him to fulfill your wants or to help when you were in distress. You needed him, you just had to see that for yourself. Once you were dressed he picked you up and put you on the bed. You huffed but didn’t say anything. 

Thatch offered to read to you before sleep, which he could tell you were not expecting. You accepted his offer and laid your head on his chest as he started reading a light novel aloud while reclining on the bed. It was intimate with you listening calmly as he read to you by the light of the lamp. You were interested in the story and started absently stroking his chest as you paid attention. After the third time you yawned, Thatch took it as a sign you were ready for sleep. He blew out the lamp, laid on his side and gathered you to him. He kissed the top of your head and settled in for the night. 

~~~

Y/N POV

You were grateful that Thatch didn’t want anything from you tonight. After the previous night with Ace, you wanted a break to recalibrate yourself. You’d liked the story - about righteous pirates trying to help a princess in distress - but were glad for the reprieve. You turned so you were facing Thatch and dozed off into a fitful sleep.

~~~

The next morning Marco and Ace were leaving on a mission together. They stopped by to say goodbye while you were still sleeping in bed. Even though they tried to be quiet, they still startled you awake. Marco sat on the bed and leaned down over you.

“We’ll be back before you know it, dove.” He kissed you sweetly on the mouth. 

“Wher’re you goin’?” you yawned and answered, still half asleep. 

“Gettin’ some business done, y’know, boring stuff” said Ace with a smile. You looked at him intently - he seemed OK, no worse for the wear. If anything, he looked excited. You pulled away from Marco, stood up on the bed and gave Ace a hug. He hugged you back and spun you around, bringing you back to the bed. You giggled at the unexpected movement.

“It’s just you and Thatch right now, you’ll stay with him until we get back,” said Marco pleasantly. 

“Don’t forget about us! We’ll miss ya,” said Ace. He picked you up around the waist and kissed you as well. With that, they were off to do…whatever it was. 

The rest of the morning was easy. You dined with Thatch, fixed doors and sails, took breaks with the fourth division, nothing new. In the afternoon, Fossa asked you to go and fix the pipes in one of the smaller Mobys. It was being repaired after a battle, so no one was living on it. It was a good time to do a wealth of repairs, you thought. You boarded the smaller ship and he guided you to the location that needed the most repairs. Ace had been right - it was always the pipes.

Unfortunately, whoever made the plumbing for the Moby was not asked to do the plumbing for the Moby Jrs. You would have to get into a tight crawl space and maneuver around to reach what you needed. Fossa left you to do your work, after opening the hatch to the crawl space. You went in on all fours, feeling cobwebs on your body and hair. It was dark, but the light from the outside helped and your fruit was pulling you to where you needed to go. You were deep in the crawl space when you heard someone outside.

“ZEHAHAHA, someone must have left this thing open. Wouldn’t want anyone to trip on it.” With that, the light to the outside vanished. Whoever it was had shut the hatch. It only opened from the outside - you were trapped inside. You were locked in the dark. By yourself. You yelled and banged on the walls with increasing panic but no one answered. 

You…remembered.

Everything was closing in on you. You felt like you couldn’t escape your own thoughts, reliving some of your past horrors. You were scared and paranoid, even though logically you knew that many of the people you were thinking about were long dead. But then you started thinking of the battle with the Marines and the pirates and the deaths they caused and your brothers your poor brothers your sweet brothers your little brothers and you were starting to have trouble breathing normally, where were you, were you on a pirate ship, where were your brothers, you felt like you were suffocating, like you couldn’t get a deep enough breath, like you were drowning, like the noise inside your head was going to be the only thing in the world, can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe

~~~

Thatch POV

Thatch was working on tonight’s dinner when Izou came into the kitchen. Thatch handed off his work to another sous chef - Izou explicitly did not like coming to the kitchen -he said it drenched his silk kimono with the smell of oil. So whatever Izou had to say was important enough to interrupt his work.

“Y/N was supposed to meet me half an hour ago.” Izou was tapping his foot on the floor. To some it might look like impatience but Thatch knew it was a cover for stress.

Thatch frowned, getting slightly worried. Were you hiding and sleeping somewhere? “Maybe she’s late?” 

“Y/N is never late. And I can’t find her.” Thatch went from slightly worried to alarmed. If Izou couldn’t find you, there was trouble. You couldn’t have left the ship - someone would have seen you. Where were you?

“Let’s go.” 

~~~

An hour later, after asking almost everyone on board, Fossa finally mentioned that you had been on the Moby Jr. earlier in the day. He said that he thought you left since the hatch was closed and the pipes were working again, but he didn’t actually see you leave. Thatch nearly jumped to the Moby Jr. looking for you. He ran to where Fossa said the crawl space was, and listened for any kind of noise. He had a sense of foreboding, like something bad had already happened. He didn’t hear anything but he thought he smelled blood. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you in there?” No one answered. It felt eerie, being on an empty ship, yelling with no one answering. He opened the hatch and held a lamp dial inside the space to illuminate the darkness. 

You were there, sitting with your arms around your knees. Your eyes were open, not blinking. There was blood all over the floor, your clothes, and your skin, but he couldn’t see any open wounds on you. You looked like you were a husk of yourself - physically present but mentally gone. It made his skin crawl looking at the macabre scene. 

“Y/N! There you are!” Thatch tried to reach for you but you withdrew farther back into the crawl space. He tried to reach you but he was too big to fit into the cramped area. He hesitated, he didn’t want to scare you further, but he had no choice.

“Y/N…come here.” Thatch put every ounce of authority he had into his voice. He knew how it sounded -  he had used it to make many recruits cry. He had never wanted to use it on you, given your past experiences, but he needed you out of there, now. You bowed your head and started coming to him. He knew you’d obey immediately, even if the real you wasn’t around. You made your way out of the hatch, and he swooped to pick you up as soon as you were out. You danged limply from his arms, not present in the world. 

~~~

Thatch came to visit you later that night in the infirmary. Deuce and Tate were looking after you, monitoring your vitals every fifteen minutes. You were catatonic, laying as they had placed you in the infirmary bed. You weren’t moving - you were barely blinking. You were pale and breathing shallowly. Your wrists had been cuffed to the railing of the bed. Deuce figured out the source of the blood - you had been scratching your arms repeatedly until you bled then fixing your own wounds. Deuce saw you do it and had to restrain you to get you to stop. You occasionally tried to scratch yourself more and stopped when you encountered resistance from the cuffs. 

Thatch was upset that Marco wasn’t there to help, but it wasn’t Marco’s fault. He and Ace had gone to destroy a Marine base connected to your former enslavement. Thatch did trust Tate and Deuce, he would entrust his own life to them. He just wished his brothers were here to help you as well. 

~~~

Y/N POV

You came back to consciousness slowly. It was night now. Dark again. Moon in the window. You noticed that your clothes felt soft against your skin. They weren’t woven from rough cloth like you normally wore for work. You looked at them. Someone had changed you from your clothes into a medical gown. It was light blue. Your arms hurt. You tried to look closer at them but when you pulled they didn’t move. Your wrists were in handcuffs. You didn’t remember doing it, but you could guess why. You were shivering, but not cold. You laid back into the pillows and waited for someone to come. 

A few minutes later, Deuce came in with a chart in his hand. He looked at you, seeing your eyes track him across the room.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” He came closer to you, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah.” You were already tired. You didn’t know if you had slept or not. Probably not.

“Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?” Deuce was talking to you slowly and patiently.

“Deuce, on the Moby.”

“That’s right. Do you remember what happened?”

“Not really.” 

“That’s OK.” He took the stethoscope off from around his neck and put the ends into his ears. He reached for you with the stem and you flinched. You tried to pull away but you were still cuffed. You tugged at your hands uselessly. He listened to your heart, then looked down at your hands.

“Can I uncuff you?” Deuce took out the key and waited for your response.

“Yeah. I won’t … I won’t.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Deuce unlocked your wrists and you rubbed them where the cuffs had worn against your skin. You rubbed your sore forearms. Your stomach hurt, maybe you had thrown up. You didn’t know.

“I’m going to let Thatch know you’re up. Please stay here.” He got off the bed and left. You stared out the window at the moon.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, Thatch came in. You watched him come into the room, feeling empty. He sat next to you on the bed. You didn’t know what to say. You felt ashamed, tired, empty, guilty, a million negative emotions. You felt bad he had to deal with you, that anyone did. He reached out and pulled you into his lap. You kept yourself from flinching, to some degree of success.

“You’re going to have to start talking about it,” he said as a way of greeting. You didn’t answer. You pinched your fingers and bit your lip. You wanted to repress the memories forever but that wasn’t working anymore.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“You don’t have to be. I’m proud of you.” You buried your head in your hands. You couldn’t deal with this right now. What on earth could he be proud of you for? For wasting his time? For being a burden on everyone? For being weak?

“I’m going to get you a glass of water. Stay here.” You grabbed his arm before he could move. You didn’t want him away from you for even a moment. You were trembling and just wanted to rest on him. You shifted so you were facing him, hunched over yourself.

“Please.”

“OK, for now. You’ll have to drink water later.” Thatch put his arms around you and rocked you gently while you mentally drifted into nothingness.

“Y/N, what were you thinking about?” Thatch said to you later - it could have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know. You didn’t answer.

“You’re going to have to start talking about it if you want to get better.” You still didn’t say anything, just closed your eyes and nuzzled in closer to his chest. He pulled you an arms length away from his body.

“No, that won’t work this time,” he said gently. “You can talk to me or Marco but you’re going to have to start. What were you thinking about?”

“Bad memories,” you whispered. You didn’t open your eyes. You couldn’t face seeing him.

“Of what mija?”

“My brothers.”

“What did they do?”

“They - they all died. They were k-killed.” You’d never said the words out loud before. It hurt you. He brought you back to his chest again.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” But you were already gone, remembering your brothers killed while you watched, useless helpless powerless weak the blood the blood the blood 

“Hey, Y/N. Y/N. Come back to me, come here.” Strong arms had you trapped, you couldn’t get away, you pushed and pushed but nothing happened. You struggled more, trying to get away. The arms let you go and you curled yourself into a ball.

“Y/N….it’s OK, you’re safe.” The hands reached for you again and you drew back, expecting a blow. Nothing came but you still didn’t unfurl yourself.

“Carina, I’ll be right back.” Garbled speech reached your ears but you couldn’t make sense of anything. 

You felt something cold and wet on the back of your neck, startling you. It started running down your back in cool rivulets, making you shiver. 

“Do you feel the water dripping down your back? Does it feel good?” The voice was talking again. You nodded, it did feel good. 

“Try to focus on the water - can you breathe in with me while you think about the water?” You nodded again. The voice counted to five and you inhaled to the counting. You didn’t make it to five but you tried again. And again. After thinking about the water and breathing to five for a long while, you realized you were curled up shivering in someone’s lap. Thatch’s lap. You looked up at him. He smiled benevolently down at you.

Thatch POV

He was not expecting that answer from you. He thought you would talk about the Marines or maybe even your time aboard a pirate ship. He knew a lot of terrible things had happened to you, but you’d never mentioned any brothers. Or any family at all. No wonder you’d never asked to go back to your island - maybe everyone you’d loved was gone. 

He would never tell you, but taking care of you during your panic attack filled him with love. You were so fragile, so weak, so easily broken, and you had turned to him for safety and comfort. When you grabbed him to keep him with you it took everything in his power not to push you down and thrust himself into you to thank you for trusting him. He would always be there to pick up your pieces and help put you back together. 

You weren’t looking at him, just at the moon.

“Maybe I should leave,” you said quietly.

“Leave the infirmary?” Thatch purposefully misunderstood your statement. 

“No. Leave the ship. It’s too - I’m too much. It’s a lot - for everyone.” You were just airing your thoughts, trying to lessen your own guilt. He wasn’t going to punish you right now. You weren’t in your right mind after all. He hugged you tighter. You wouldn’t be leaving the ship, why would you when everyone who would help you was on board?

“It’s not too much mi vida. Everyone has things they need to work through. Yours are just more…difficult.”

“But it takes so much time from everyone, so many resources. I’m not- “

“Don’t finish that sentence. You are worth it. And you’re not leaving. Have you forgotten about your bounty? You stay with us now. You need us and this only proves it more. What would have happened to you if I wasn’t around? If the crew wasn’t around to help you? How do you think this would have ended?” 

You didn’t reply, just leaned your head against him. He didn’t like this line of thought and made a mental note to talk to Marco and Ace about it. You wouldn’t be leaving and you needed to come to terms with it.

[the-guilty-writer]

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Request from anon: Spencer x daughter!reader (like 19/20) after the JJ confession she like storms into the BAU to confront her and basically is really mad that she told him that whilst married

“He told me, about the date. I was too young but I just remember him crying.”

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to choose when he matters to you and when he doesn’t. You don’t get to tell him something like that knowing you have a family and he only has me. It was a shitty thing to do. You’re so f****** selfish”

Sorry I went off I just hate that scene it was so pointless hahha

But I need some protective daughter!!!!

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: After you hear about JJ's feelings towards your dad, you tell her the truth about how you feel about her too... and it's not friendly.

A/N: This is basically just the reader yelling… I’ll let you guys imagine how the conversation afterwards might go (this will not have a part 2). I changed the dialogue a bit to have it make more sense but kept it the same for the most part. This is also unintentionally Taylor Swift inspired. The lyric just fit so I put it in.

CW: Spoilers for S15, swearing, reader is kinda really mean to JJ (it's understandable thought)

---

Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts -Taylor Swift, Death by a Thousand Cuts

---

It was a conversation that you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear… honestly, it was a conversation that your Aunt Penny wasn’t supposed to hear either. You were on your weekly phone call with her when she told you about it… what JJ had said to your dad. Well, she didn’t exactly tell you as much as you could tell something was off and then you pressed until she spilled.

At first you had kept your composure- simply saying goodbye to Penny. You’d driven peacefully from your college campus to the BAU. You were pleasant while going through the security check. It wasn’t until the elevator indicated you’d reached the sixth floor of the building that your vision went red, anger burning inside you like a fire that was burning at the edge of its confinement, blood boiling in your ears.

You stepped out of the elevator and went straight through the glass doors, not even bothering to say hello to Agent Anderson as you passed him in the hall. The team was in the bullpen, all at their prospective desks, calmly working on files when you marched your storm of anger right through the office.

“You bitch!” Your voice was filled with fury as you seemingly hurdled yourself towards JJ’s desk. “You selfish little-”

Luke grabbed you hard before you could swing your fists in the direction of the blonde woman you once would have trusted with your life. You strained against the man holding you. The sounds of voices filled the bullpen and agents were getting out of their seats but no one bothered to reach for a side arm. You weren’t a real threat.

But you didn’t need a gun to kill someone.

“(Y/N)-” Your dad’s voice stuck out to you. “What happened?”

You looked at your dad for only a split second before turning your head to meet JJ’s gaze. Both of you knew what happened. You stopped your struggle against Alvez and he loosened his grip, letting you go, but your eyes never left JJ’s.

“If there’s something you need to talk about, you can do it in my office,” Emily offered, but in your feeling of anger you didn’t want help from the woman who faked her death, leaving you and your dad to mourn her only to find out she was alive seven months later.

“How could you?” The fury was beginning to taste bitter with sadness. “How could you do this to my dad? How could you do this to Will and Henry and Micheal-”

JJ cut you off. She was calmer than you, but just as loud. “You don’t get to bring my family into this-”

“Yes I do!” you screamed. “Because I actually give a shit about people! Because for ten years Will took care of me while you guys were out on cases and Henry brought me to show and tell as his older sister when he was in kindergarten and my name was one of Micheal’s first words! So yes- I do get to bring your family into this because I care about them. I care that someone loves them because that’s what they deserve! They don’t deserve to have a wife and a mother who tells another man that she’s always loved him- especially when that man is their godfather! You don’t get to say things like that when you had the chance to do it fifteen years ago!”

JJ’s eyes were filled with tears. Her voice was meek as she spoke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Your laugh was humorless and dry. “Because I do. I was only four at the time, but he told me about the date. I was too young to understand what was truly going on but I just remember him crying. You had your chance, JJ. You had a choice and you decided against my dad. He’s always cared about you. You could have at least told him that he mattered.”

“Your dad matters to me-”

“No!” you cut her off this time. “You don’t get to do that- you don’t get to choose when he matters to you and when he doesn’t. You don’t get to tell him something like that knowing you have a family and he has me. It was a shitty thing to do. You’re so fucking selfish. You hurt everyone who cares about you and you don’t even see it because you’re too busy making sure everything goes the way you want it to. Fifteen years ago you made a choice and you sure as hell don't get to go back on it and damage everyone around you, especially not my dad.”

The bullpen was silent, the venom in your words lingering in the air. Having said what you needed to, you turned away and walked back towards the glass doors. Before you pushed against them, you stopped and turned to glance back.

The entire team was staring at you, utterly bewildered by the events that had just transpired. The only one who wasn’t looking at you was JJ- her eyes averted from the person who had called her out on all her bullshit, every mistake she had made, every insecurity she had now out and open for everyone to see.

And some malicious part of you was happy she was in pain.

“You know,” your voice was calm now, “my mother was a bitch, but at least she was kind enough to break my dad’s heart and leave. But you, JJ? There isn't a single part of our family- our lives- that you didn't touch. You've taken everything and it's stil not enough for you, so the rest of us have to suffer death by a thousand cuts.”

Without another word you pushed open the doors and left.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

That theory in Riddle being sexually abused by a Doctor figure and the behaviours he depicted + the talk on unsympathetic victims... Kind of violently reminded me of Severus, and especially his Worst memory where the Marauders did what they did to him. Even his bond with Lily was this unhealthy dependency I think? Well not the right word. But Lily was the only thing keeping him sane and going I feel.

Anonymus: Adding on to the previous ask about Sev and Lily and unsympathetic victims. Do you think the Evans ever acted for Severus the way the weasleys did for Harry? A safe retreat? Do you think they ever tried to report Tobias? How do you interpret Sev and Lil's bond? I know a lot of the fandom thinks Sev was infatuated with her/ romantically loved her...but I often felt that Severus raised Lily to a holy Mary status, and that while he did in fact love her, it was platonic (in which case there is a comment to be made about the way platonic love between opp sex PPL is perceived and ridiculed)

I'm not the op of the post you mentioned, but yeah, Severus is a great example of an unsympathetic victim. Personally, he isn't a character I like all that much, but he is undeniably an interesting one. This turned out a little rambly, but that's what I got.

We don't know how SWM ended, but, yeah... not pleasant regardless of how far it went.

Severus was definitely a victim of abuse, both at his home and school and what he went through was awful. That victimhood doesn't excuse his treatment of students in his care. Like, I had a temporary position as an instructor for teenagers, and Severus' treatment of his students makes me want to throttle him a bit.

But as a child, as a teen — he definitely didn't deserve the life he got. Dumbledore has a tendency to turn a blind eye to abuse for various reasons, which ended up fucking a lot of people over, Snape included. (Tom and Hary too)

As for Severus' dependence on Lily, yeah, I think he was incredibly fixated on her. I agree with you that that fixation isn't necessarily romantic. Lily, was essentially Severus' first friend — his best friend. Lily was to Snape what Ron was to Harry in a way. The first person he felt he could trust.

I went through The Prince's Tale to refresh my memory on all of this, and I wanna talk about his friendship with Lily first, actually.

“. . . thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying, “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary MacDonald the other day?” Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. “That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all—” “It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny—” “What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?” demanded Snape. His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

(DH, 569)

Severus sees himself and Lily as best friends. He's happy when she dislikes James, but, he never makes any attempt to become romantic with her. It can be read either way, but personally, I like to read it as a close friendship.

(A little unrelated note about the above quote I saw someone mention once somewhere: Severus knows James fancies Lily, and warns her about it in that same conversation above, and It's interesting he raises Lily's potential romantic interest in James as a retort when she says she doesn't know what he sees in Mulciber. Is anyone shipping Mulciber/Severus? 👀)

I mentioned in this post how I believe Severus' Patronus is a doe because he sees Lily as his defender. Even after all these years. And I think, that too, can be about friendship. Because Liy was his first friend, his first defender. The fact that in SWM we see her step in to defend him suggests to me it happened before. That Lily stepped in to defend Severus, so when he calls for a guardian, in the form of a Patronus, it's still Lily.

And after SWM, Severus is less concerned about what happened to him, he's more concerned about losing Lily. That was the worst thing about that memory. Not his humiliation or assualt, but the loss of his first, and probably only best friend. I don't think he ever trusted someone else like he trusted Lily:

“I’m sorry.” “I’m not interested.” “I’m sorry!” “Save your breath.” It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice.

(DH, 571)

Is he a blood-purist who thinks Lily is a perfect muggleborn and therefore an exception to everything? Yes. Severus is in the wrong here about calling Lily a mudblood and thinking it's fine because she's a good mudblood, she's not like the other muggleborns. Lily has every right to cease her friendship with him over it.

But it's telling about his priorities the first thing he does is try to fix their friendship, to apologize to her.

Did he deserve to be hanged upside down and likely stripped in the middle of a large audience at school? Hell no. James probably didn't see it as a big deal, but it's so messed up I don't really know what to say, really. Like, I think Severus definitely fought back and wasn't always the victim of the Marauders, though. In the scene I mentioned above with Mulciber it's implied Severus and his Death Eater buddies are just as bad as James and the Marauders are. Their targets are just different. I think what James did is awful and inexcusable, but at the same time, I think, in the same way Tom Riddle hung Billy's rabbit to scare his bullies away, Severus tried to do the same, if less successfully. It's why he invented spells like Langlock (used in SWM on him) and Sectumsempra.

A lot of his demeanor is the result of abuse. He bullies and scares his students because he's mimicking his father, his abuser. he learned from him to control by force, with fear threats, and degradation. Because that's what Severus experienced as a child. Also, the fact he became a professor as young as he did, meant he felt had to force his students to take him seriously. Some of his first students probably saw him in his lowest moments as a student himself. So, he resorted to the fear and insults that his father likely used when he wanted to be taken seriously.

I truly think the loss of Lily's friendship is what stung the most about the whole ordeal of SWM. I mean, Severus has a lot of bad memories. I'm sure this wasn't the only time he was humiliated and assaulted. He was abused by his father. He was almost killed by Lupin as a werewolf during the prank. And then he joined a terrorist organization where he was likely tortured, where he likely watched people die. And in all of this, his worst memory is this one case of assault that I doubt was the only one? This doesn't make much sense to me, I think it's his worst memory not because of what happened to him, but because he lost his friendship with Lily over what he considers a "stupid slip".

And yeah, after Lily's death, in his mind, Snape raised her to a saintly status. He never has a mean thought about her, because he feels guilty over her death. He feels like he killed his only defender. So, of course, his memories of her are colored like she was perfect. That's how he wants to remember her so he can keep feeling guilty and hating himself over it. He feels like he deserves to feel that way. This is something you see with victims of abuse, they rationalize their abuse by convincing themselves they deserve it.

And Snape is a very bitter character who doesn't want to get better.

As for whether I think he found solace in the Evans household the same way Harry did with the Weasleys? The answer is yes actually. And there's some evidence for it.

Lily knew things weren't good at home for Severus:

“How are things at your house?” Lily asked. A little crease appeared between his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “They’re not arguing anymore?” “Oh yes, they’re arguing,” said Snape. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. “But it won’t be that long and I’ll be gone.”

(DH, 563-564)

And Severus mentioned later in that conversation how his father doesn't just not like magic — he doesn't like anything. Severus and his mother are very clearly implied to be abused by his father when his mother is mentioned. He doesn't describe much of what goes on at home, he tries to act fine, but I'm calling it abuse because of what it most likely is. Severus can't wait to leave home as an eleven-year-old. This isn't something that usually happens in healthy households.

Additionally, Severus spent enough time in their house it was conceivable he and Lily snuck into Petunia's room to find her letter to Hogwarts:

“You shouldn’t have read—” whispered Petunia, “that was my private—how could you—?” Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Snape stood nearby. Petunia gasped. “That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!”

(DH, 566)

So, he probably stayed over with the Evans parents most of the day and only returned home to sleep. That's what I think happened. And, Lily's parents seem very kind and accepting of magic from what little we hear of them:

Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce

(DH, 566)

“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?” “Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

(PS, 41)

I think Severus preferred the Evans house over his own. His own where his parents argued and his father abused him and his mother. Where his parents both worked and left him wandering the streets as a young child.

As for whether the Evans parents ever tried to report Tobias, we just don't really know. I'd say no. Domestic abuse in the 1970s was still largely unrecognized and not treated legally and medically like it is today. So, I don't think they'd have anyone to report to even if they wanted to. Especially with where the Snapes lived, which was essentially slums that the police didn't bother with anyway.

[angelasscribbles]

What Once Was

Fandom: Vying for Versailles (Romance Club)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: none

Summary: Renee married someone else. But what happens when Alexandre comes back into her life?

“Madame, you have a visitor.”

Renée looked up from her writing desk curiously. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. “Who is it, Beatrice?”

Beatrice had served Renee since she had first set foot in Versailles all those years ago. She had risen from lady’s maid to maîtresse d'hôtel. Her duties now involved overseeing all the other household servants at Chateau de Marly.

“It’s Monsieur Bontemps, Madame.”

The door to the study swung wide as the mistress of house backed away, revealing Alexandre, his fingers twisting nervously at the hat clasped in his hands.

Renee rose from her desk with surprised delight and swept across the room to greet him with a hug. “Alexandre! This is a pleasant surprise! Wait….” She drew back with a worried crease across her brow, “Is all well? The king—”

“The king is fine, Madame.”

Her good mood faltered as her eyes tracked his face noting the agitation in his stance. Very little rattled the king’s spymaster. “Then why are you here?”

“I was hoping we could have a private conversation.” His eyes darted around the room. “May I come in?”

“Certainly, but I think we would be more comfortable in the small sitting room.” She stepped out of the study and led him down the hallway to the smallest of the sitting rooms. It was cozy, plush, and private.

She gave Beatrice instructions to send a maid in with tea service then she shut the door. Turning back to him, she crossed her arms and studied him closely.

He was fidgety, clearly wound up about something, which was completely out of character for him. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled across her face as she took in his agitation. “Do I still make you nervous, Alexandre?”

“You do have a way of knocking my equilibrium off balance, Madame.” He gave her a small smile.

The affection and heat in his gaze sent butterflies exploding through her stomach. “That is good to know, Monsieur.”

He arched an eyebrow skeptically, “You think me indifferent to you?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could never be indifferent to you.” The pure, undisguised longing on his face sent shivers cascading down her spine.

There was a brief lull in their conversation as the tea was served. Renee watched the maid retreat as she stirred her tea. With her eyes focused on the cup in her hand, she softly said, “You should have stayed.”

“Renee…I couldn’t stay in close proximity to you knowing I could never touch you again.”

She glanced up at him and her tone was sharp as she told him, “Those were the choices you made.”

He sighed as he carefully sat his cup on the table. It was the same argument they’d had before he had left for Geneva to serve the king’s interest in Switzerland. “You didn’t choose me.”

“I did. I simply didn’t choose only you,” she reminded him. “And it’s not like you were ever going to marry me anyway.”

“A spymaster—”

“I know. Believe me, I remember all your excuses.”

“They weren’t excuses.”

“Weren’t they?”

He didn’t answer. He had told her that they could never be a couple. He hadn’t had a noble title back then and his work made it almost impossible to conduct a love affair. But when she had accepted a proposal from the Prince du Sang, it had felt like a knife plunged into his heart.

He drew in a deep breath and decided to tell her the truth. “There’s something you don’t know, Renee. I did approach Louis about a possible match. The king had been offering to ennoble me for years. I thought, maybe…”

Renee jerked in surprise, nearly spilling her tea in the process, “What?”

“My request was rejected out of hand and when Philippe got down on one knee in front of the entire court a mere day later, I understood why.”

Louis loved him like a brother. But Philippe was his brother. And he had probably asked first. The prince was a better match for her anyway. He knew that.

Renee quickly sat her cup down and tried to quell the shaking in her hands. “Alexandre…why didn’t you tell me?”

“After witnessing firsthand your pure joy at accepting another man’s proposal? What would have been the point?” He had, instead, determined to keep his distance from her.

And yet when their paths crossed, he had found that he still could not resist her. “Do you remember that night in Paris, right before your wedding?”

Madame de France, princess, duchess, and marquise did not blush easily, but her cheeks colored at the reminder. “Of course I do. But why are you bringing that up? Why are you bringing any of it up now?”

“Pardon?”

“Why discuss these things now? After all this time?”

“Ah, yes.” And here was the reason for his visit. “Do you remember when you told me that you would recognize me anywhere?”

“Yes. And you said the same. What does that have to do with why you’re here?”

“Only that I by chance saw you last time I was in Paris on the king’s business. I only saw your profile as you climbed into your carriage, but I knew it was you.”

“And you didn’t think to say hello?”

“I started to but then I saw your son.”

“Louis-Philippe?”

“Yes. One of the servants handed him up into the carriage to you and I got a clear view of his face, Renee.”

Her heart stopped. “And?”

“And he favors neither the prince nor a certain count that you are overly fond of.”

She ignored his reference to Armand as her heart started to thump even harder. She knew exactly who the child favored but she wasn’t going to make this easy on him. Her hands and her voice were steady as she looked him directly in the eye. “What are you asking me, Alexandre?”

“Is he….is he mine?”

She jumped up from her seat and stalked across the room to stare out the window. After a long pause, she replied, “You are not a father in the way that Philippe is. You do not tuck him into bed at night nor ease his fears when the thunder booms. He does not know you.”

He stood and followed her across the room, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Without turning to look at him, she whispered, “Yes, he was conceived that night in Paris.”

Alexandre’s world tilted on its axis. He had known, of course, the moment he had seen the child’s face. But to have confirmation…. He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Anger flared through her as she spun to face him and flung his own words back at him. “What would have been the point? You ran away from me fast enough the moment you didn’t like my choices.”

“But a child, Renee!”

“By the time I knew I was with child, I was already married! What would you have had me do? Put it in a letter so your enemies could use it against us both? You well know how easy it is to intercept correspondence.”

He nodded in acquiescence. He could not fault her logic. “And the Prince du Sang... does he….”

“Philippe knows. He does not care.”

“I find that hard to believe, Madame.”

“Did you think we were cuckolding him every time we were together?”

“Well…”

“I told you, before he even proposed, what our arrangement was!”

“Yes, but I—”

“You what? You thought I was lying?” She stepped closer. So close she could smell the vanilla and cardamom scent that always clung to him. So close that she could feel the heat radiating from him, sense the tension in his body, “I may lie to everyone else in service to my king and my country, but I have never lied to you nor him! I do not lie to the people that I love.”

Alexandre froze, shock, pleasure, and disbelief coursing through him at her words. She loved him?

Oblivious to his reaction to her unintentional confession, she plowed on. “And your assertation that I would have divided loyalties was preposterous! My loyalty to my husband would never put me at cross purposes with you, Alexandre and you know it! Philippe loves his brother and is loyal to him. Furthermore, I do not tell him everything that I know or that I do. He understands and respects the need for discretion when it comes to my duties as a spymaster! He would never ask me to betray—”

“Alright! Alright!” He held both hands up in surrender with a bemused chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Alexandre!” She stood in the middle of the room, just inches from him, cheeks red and chest heaving with emotion.

He was struck nearly speechless by her beauty. She was even more breathtaking when she was angry. How was that possible? He took an involuntary step toward her.

She froze, her eyes trained on him, but she didn’t back away.

He took another step toward her, this one purposeful.

They stood, unmoving, staring into each other’s eyes; two hearts pounding in anticipation. He lifted a hand and reached out for her just as the sitting room door banged open.

“There you are, my love! I—oh! I didn’t realize we had company.” The prince stopped short, causing the chevalier who had been hot on his heels to collide into his backside.

Alexandre jerked his hand back and stepped away awkwardly. “My prince! I…” he executed a low bow. “So lovely to see you again.”

Philippe’s eyes took in the valet’s flushed and guilty expression and then his wife’s stoic demeanor. Renee had not backed away when he entered the room. She had stood her ground. Her ire was evident and he smothered a smile. He understood everything. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Alexandre, but let’s not pretend you came here for me.”

“I….” For the first time in his life, Alexandre was struck completely speechless.

Renee finally moved, closing the distance to greet her husband with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She murmured in his ear, “He knows about Louie.”

“Hm,” he hugged her back, but his gaze was trained on his brother’s spymaster.

Renee moved around her husband to greet the chevalier with the same hug and kiss she had just given her husband. “How was grouse hunting?”

“As usual, we didn’t find a single grouse but at least we didn’t end up drunk in a fountain again.” The chevalier laughed at his own joke as he returned her hug. Not a day passed that he didn’t count his blessings.

There had been a time when the king had been adamant that Philippe make a political marriage, likely to some English noblewoman who would expect fidelity from him. He would forever be grateful that Louis had allowed the prince to marry Renee and that Renee had never blinked at the relationship between the two men. Now he practically lived at Chateau de Marly and was both a godfather and cherished uncle to their son. They functioned very well as a threesome and while his whole heart belonged to the prince, he wasn’t completely indifferent to Renee.

He also liked the life they had built together very much so he glared suspiciously at the intruder. “Why are you here, Monsieur Bontemps?”

Finally recovering, Alexander stiffly replied, “I had some…business to discuss with the duchess.”

Renee snorted. “Business? Is that what this is, Alexandre?”

He flushed scarlet which caused the other two men in the room to laugh.

The prince spoke first. “Let’s drop the pretense, shall we? Renee and I have no secrets from each other nor do I keep secrets from the chevalier. His discretion is not in question. You may speak freely. Everyone in this room knows that Louis is your son. So why are you really here?”

“Do you wish to challenge me to a duel, Monsieur?” Alexandre asked carefully.

Philippe looked at him askance. “Why would I do that?”

Alexandre shook his head slowly. “Most men in your position would.” It was dawning on him that Renee had been telling the full truth of the matter. Philippe showed no signs of rage or jealousy.

Of course, it was an open secret at court that his affair with the chevalier never ended, but for most men indulging their own desires did not mean they were tolerant of their wives doing the same.

Philippe’s face broke into a wide smile. “When have you ever known me to be like most men? Come now, stay for dinner and we can discuss everything.”

“As tempting as that sounds…I have some urgent business matters I must attend to tonight. However….”

“Yes?”

“With your leave, I would like to visit the child. As a family friend, of course. I would never disclose the true nature of our relationship to him.”

“You want a relationship with our son?” Renee asked so quietly he almost missed it.

Turning to face her with beseeching eyes he answered her. “If it pleases you, then yes.”

Renee closed her eyes briefly as she fought against the onslaught of conflicting emotions that collided inside her at the thought. When she opened them again, she blinked up at him. “I think I would like that very much.”

Profound relief swirled through him at her answer. He had not known what to expect when he knocked on her door, but things had gone better than he could have imagined. Turning his attention back to Philippe, he asked, “And this is alright with you?”

“It is. You’ll find Louie is a capricious and wild little hellion who delights in his friendships with children and adults alike. I think he’ll be good for you.”

Alexandre barked out a surprised laugh. “He’ll be good for me?”

“Yes….” Philippe drawled out with a mischievous grin. “I think you need to loosen up and he’s just the person to help you do it.”

The king’s valet turned to go but an idea had taken root in his mind and he could not let it go. Turning back he asked, “And your wife?”

“What about her?”

“May I have permission to resume our….friendship?”

“Oh, he wants to court your wife!” The chevalier chortled out loud.

“Monsieur,” Philippe shook his head. “You disappoint me. I thought you understood. You do not need my permission. You need hers.”

Alexandre turned slowly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Madame. I would be most grateful if you would agree to indulge me in a conversation soon. I think we have many things to discuss.”

“For how long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How long will these discussions go on? When do you leave again?”

He nodded in understanding. “Given today's revelations, and assuming you will continue to welcome me as a visitor in your home, I will start making the preparations to return to my house in Paris immediately and permanently.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment and then she nodded. “I would like you to get to know our son and I would be open to you and I having a conversation about where we go from there.”

He couldn’t help the smile that crawled across his face. He left the chateau with a spring in his step.

The truth was, he had not been happy since he’d left court shortly after her wedding. He hadn’t thought he could share her, open relationship with her husband or not. But an even larger concern had been his fear of openly loving her, thereby making her a target for his enemies, which were many.

He would never be comfortable being physically affectionate with her in front of others, he was more private than that, but if there was still a relationship to be had with her, there couldn’t be a more perfect cover than her marriage. No one ever had to know what she meant to him, or that he had a child. They could therefore never be used against him.

The thought of rekindling what they once had made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time….happiness.

It was entirely possible that things had worked out for him after all.