#I had to drag her for over TWO BLOCKS and she still kept looking over her shoulder the rest of the walk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeostinys · 24 days ago

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Cry For Me (Trilogy)

Final part

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Angst, light fluff

Notes: Dacryphilia (y/n is a major cry baby), mentions of cheating (don’t do it yall, this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (please wrap it up, don’t do this irl), creampie, oral sex, masturbation, explicit language, slight violence (not from Hongjoong). blindfold sex. slight impregnation kink.

Word Count: 13k

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

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After that heated night with Hongjoong, a shift settled over the office. The anticipation of the upcoming Exhibition cast a palpable tension in the air, and both of you were swept up in a whirlwind of preparations. Your inbox was inundated with questions and requests, each email demanding your immediate attention. In addition to your regular duties, you found yourself tasked with organizing final report meetings for each department—a crucial step for Hongjoong to review and approve before the big day.

Yet, as busy as you were, you couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him. Hongjoong’s workload was heavier than ever; he was frequently out of the office, darting between the Exhibition building and press conferences. You had grown so accustomed to his presence, both at work and outside of it, that the silence of his absence felt almost deafening. You tried to keep your focus, shoving aside the longing that threatened to distract you as you worked diligently to meet your deadlines.

“Hello, Miss Y/N,” a cheerful voice broke through your thoughts. You looked up to find Haeun standing there, her smile bright and two steaming coffee cups in her hands.

“Hello, Miss Lee,” you replied, returning her smile but feeling a hint of unease bubble beneath the surface.

“Is Mr. Kim in his office? I had a few questions for him and I also got him coffee,” she asked, glancing hopefully toward Hongjoong’s office door.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. “No, he’s not in right now. He’s at the Exhibition building preparing for tomorrow,” you said, your tone calm despite the annoyance simmering within.

Haeun’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she cast her gaze downward, disappointment etched on her features. “Ahh, I see—”

“Whatever your message is, I can go ahead and relay it to him,” you offered, attempting to sound genuinely helpful while hoping she wouldn’t catch the edge of sarcasm that laced your words.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just wait for him,” she replied, her voice soft as she bowed her head slightly before turning to walk away.

You bit your lip, feeling a flicker of irritation. As you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, a question nagged at you: why was Haeun so intent on seeking out Hongjoong? It wasn’t just professionalism that kept her lingering around his office. Most of your colleagues would have passed their messages through you without a second thought, but Haeun seemed to circumvent the usual channels, consistently finding excuses to approach him directly.

With a sigh, you returned to your screen, determined to push aside the thoughts that threatened to derail your concentration. Yet the unease lingered, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind as you dived back into your work, longing for the familiar rhythm of your days with Hongjoong by your side.

Hours stretched on, the clock ticking slowly as you counted down to your much-anticipated hour break. The office felt almost suffocating without Hongjoong's presence; he still hadn’t returned from his seemingly endless meetings. As the minutes dragged, an urge tugged at you—just to hear his voice again.

You pulled out your phone and navigated to his contact, your fingers hovering over the call button for a moment before you pressed it. The line rang for a while, until finally—

“Hey there, Pretty,” Hongjoong’s tender voice flooded your ear, warm and familiar. Your heart swelled at the sound, a rush of affection washing over you.

“Hey,” you replied softly, a smile spreading across your face as you settled back in your chair, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

“Mm, yeah,” you assured him, fiddling with the pen in your hand. “Just miss you. I’m on my hour break right now.”

“I miss you too, baby,” he sighed, the weariness in his voice unmistakable. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Exhibition opening ceremony. I still have to meet up with another investor, so I probably won’t make it back to the office today.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his stress. “It’s okay, just go straight home afterwards and rest,” you said softly, wanting to ease his burden even just a little.

“Yeah, I will. And you, please don’t stay too late at the office,” he replied, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he could sense your tendency to push yourself too hard.

“Okay,” you promised, feeling a flicker of warmth at his concern.

“I have to go now, Pretty. I’ll talk to you later,” Hongjoong said, his voice lingering in your mind like a sweet melody.

“Talk to you later,” you echoed, and the line ended.

———

As you step into your apartment, the weight of the past week begins to lift. You kick off your heels, feeling the cool floor beneath your bare feet, and make your way to the sanctuary of your bed.

Returning to your apartment each night has become a solitary routine, yet it’s a routine you find comfort in. You’re not lonely; you’re content. Hongjoong’s passion for his work radiates through his messages, reminding you that even amidst the flurry, you are always on his mind.

The familiar ping of your phone draws your attention. A message from Hongjoong lights up the screen:

Joongie <3: Just finished my last meeting. I’ll let you know I’m home

A smile unfurls across your face as you read his words. You feel a warmth inside, a flicker of excitement at the thought of spending time together. You slip out of your clothes, your nightly routine a practiced dance, and soon you’re refreshed and relaxed.

Once your skin feels cool from the shower, you wander into the kitchen, ready to prepare a quick snack. The soft glow of the overhead lights envelops you in a tranquil ambiance as you settle onto the couch with a book, letting the words draw you into their world. Suddenly, a sharp breaks the silence.

You turn your head, curiosity piquing your interest. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour? A smile creeps back onto your lips as you hope it might be Hongjoong. Rising from the couch, you smooth down your shirt and tousle your hair, preparing for the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But when you open the door, your heart sinks.

“S—Siwoo? What are you doing here?” The question escapes your lips, laced with confusion and a sudden spike of adrenaline. It’s been over a month since you last saw him, and the disheveled state he’s in sends a jolt of apprehension through you.

“Can I come in?” His tone is casual, but you sense an underlying tension.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you reply softly, instinctively stepping back behind the door. You’ve barely finished your sentence when Siwoo’s hand slams against the wood, startling you.

“Are you messing around with your boss?” The accusation hangs in the air like a storm cloud, and your heart plummets at the words. His eyes are wild, red-rimmed, and filled with something that feels dangerously close to madness.

“What does it matter to you?” you retort, trying to maintain your composure.

“That’s quite dirty of you,” he laughs bitterly, the sound scraping against your nerves.

“Is that why you fucken left me?” Your voice trembles, yet you refuse to back down.

“You need to leave,” you insist, crossing your arms in a futile gesture of defiance.

Siwoo steps closer, and you freeze, his presence invading your space.

“Want to know how I found out?” He leans in, his voice low and threatening. “someone saw you two making out in the meeting room…”

You recoil at his words, feeling the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. “Are you fucken stalking me?” Your voice raises in disgust,

“You’re a whore, Y/N,” he spits out, slamming his fist against the door. You flinch at the sound, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“You say that as if you didn’t cheat on me,” you shoot back, your glare fierce even as you fight to keep your emotions in check.

“Get over yourself, Y/N,” he snaps.

“I hope you’re happy with him.” His voice drips with sarcasm as he turns to leave.

“I am,” you declare defiantly, the words escaping before you can think.

But he spins around, anger igniting in his gaze. You quickly shut the door, locking it just as his fist meets the wood again, the sound reverberating through your chest.

“No one makes you happier than me, Y/N!” he bellows, and panic floods your senses.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you crouch down, the adrenaline leaving you shaken. Silence wraps around you like a blanket after his final strike against the door. You pull your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

In that moment, you reach for your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you find Hongjoong’s name. Hesitation grips you; it’s late, and you don’t want to disturb him, he’s already feeling so much stress lately. Instead, you let the silence envelop you, the shadows of your apartment pressing in, leaving you in a swirling storm of emotions.

———

The morning sun filtered through your curtains, but the clock on your bedside table betrayed the time—it was far later than you had intended to wake. Panic gripped you as you bolted upright, the remnants of sleep quickly fading into a rush of urgency. The Exhibition building loomed in your mind like an impending deadline, one you could not afford to miss.

You scrambled through your morning routine, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate bid to shake off the remnants of a restless night. Your encounter with Siwoo haunted you, the unsettling conversation replaying endlessly in your thoughts, keeping sleep at bay.

Finally dressed—you rushed to hail a taxi, your heart racing as you gave the driver your destination. Your phone buzzed with notifications, and you glanced at the screen to see several missed messages from Hongjoong, each one amplifying your anxiety. “Where are you?” “Are you okay?” The words blurred together as frustration boiled inside you. You cursed under your breath, willing the taxi to speed through the congested streets. Quickly, you typed a reply: “Stuck in traffic. I’ll be there soon.”

When the taxi finally screeched to a halt in front of the Exhibition building, you practically leaped out, grateful that the opening ceremony hadn’t started yet. You dashed inside, weaving through the crowd, your heart pounding with each hurried step. As you entered the lobby, the buzz of voices surrounded you—colleagues mingling, laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

There he was—Hongjoong—standing with a group of organizers. The sight of him anchored you momentarily, but the weight of your anxiety still loomed large. When your eyes met, relief washed over his features, and he approached you with an unmistakable sense of concern.

“Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice warm yet edged with worry. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you replied, bowing slightly, the formality a brief shield against your inner turmoil. He excused himself from the conversation, pulling you aside as a flicker of worry crossed his face.

“Are you okay? You never run late. Did something happen?” His voice dropped to a quiet tone, the intimacy of his concern making your heart race.

You looked down, trying to gather your thoughts. “Yeah,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and the traffic was terrible.” Each word felt like a confession, a release of the stress you’d been holding. “Is there anything I can do to help? I know we open soon.”

He shook his head, a gentle smile breaking through his concern. “No, it’s okay. Haeun and a few others are finishing the last display room.”

At the mention of Haeun, a sharp pang of unease shot through you, tightening your chest. You nodded, forcing a smile that felt strained. “Right. Of course.” The name lingered in your mind like a shadow, darkening the moment.

“I have to go,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm for a brief moment, grounding you. “I’ll see you at the front for the opening.” With that, he turned away, his smile still radiating warmth, leaving you caught between the chaos of the day and the storm brewing inside you.

You cleared your throat, the sound echoing slightly in the hallway as you steeled yourself for the bustling atmosphere of the conference room ahead. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your blouse and smoothed down your skirt, determined to shake off the disquiet that had plagued you since last night.

As you entered the conference room, a wave of energy washed over you. Colleagues filled the space, their voices mingling in a lively buzz as they prepared for the opening ceremony. You found your designated seat, a small island of calm amid the excitement, and pulled out the itinerary, hoping to distract yourself from the racing thoughts that refused to settle.

The ceremony began, and all eyes turned to Hongjoong as he stepped up to the podium. With a charismatic presence that filled the room, he launched into his speech, effortlessly commanding attention. You couldn’t help but smile softly as he spoke, his confidence radiating and infectious. The presentation unfolded smoothly, and he introduced the highly anticipated theme for the exhibition, capturing the audience’s enthusiasm.

As the crowd erupted into applause, you felt a swell of pride for the event's success. The doors of the exhibition swung open, welcoming an influx of important figures, investors, and eager members of the public. Your role quickly shifted as you focused on ensuring that each department followed protocol and adhered to the schedule.

Glancing across the room, you spotted Hongjoong surrounded by higher-ups and colleagues, all congratulating him with hearty handshakes and praise. Your gaze fell on Haeun, her smile radiant as she bowed gracefully to those around her. But then, the moment took an unexpected turn. Instead of exchanging congratulatory handshakes, Haeun leaned in, her movements light and unassuming, and hugged Hongjoong.

The sight struck you like a punch to the gut. Hongjoong’s expression shifted from surprise to a vague awkwardness as he tapped her shoulder, clearly caught off guard by her gesture. A rush of irritation flooded through you, twisting into jealousy that simmered just below the surface. Why did she feel so comfortable with him?

“Miss Y/N, we need assistance with this,” a fellow colleague called, pulling you from your thoughts. You forced a smile, though it felt brittle, and nodded, following them away from the unfolding scene.

As you walked away, you glanced back at Hongjoong, who was searching the crowd for you. His gaze landed on you just as you turned to leave, and you could see the faint sigh of disappointment escape him. The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken tension, before he was pulled back into conversations with important figures, the excitement of the event overshadowing the moment between you.

The rest of the day unfolded in a whirlwind of activity. The exhibition was a resounding success, with a full house exceeding even the most optimistic expectations for the opening day. Everywhere you looked, faces were illuminated with excitement, laughter echoing through the halls. Yet amidst the hustle and bustle, you hardly saw Hongjoong. He was swept up in conversations with important figures, while you navigated your own responsibilities, making sure everything ran smoothly.

Inside, you could sense Hongjoong’s exhaustion; the constant social interactions wore him down, and you could almost feel his desire to retreat from the crowd and share a moment of solitude with you. But the overwhelming buzz of the event kept you apart, and despite your best efforts to push away thoughts of Siwoo and Haeun, they lingered in the back of your mind like dark clouds, threatening to overshadow the day’s success.

As the final guests trickled out of the building, you offered heartfelt bows of gratitude to those who attended, your voice a blend of professionalism and warmth. The security guard swiftly locked the front doors, signaling the day’s end. Team members began closing up the exhibition, readying it for another day of activity. A sigh of relief escaped you as you turned to head back to the conference room to gather your things.

You moved slowly, fatigue settling into your bones. Just as you were about to leave, you looked up and saw Hongjoong standing before you, a soft smile breaking through the weariness of the day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm.

“Hi,” you replied, your smile tinged with exhaustion.

“Let me gather my stuff; let’s go home together,” he whispered, taking your hand gently in his. You nodded, feeling a small rush of comfort as you watched him turn to collect his belongings.

The walk to his car was filled with an unspoken tension that felt more tiresome than awkward. Hongjoong tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, the soft music playing in the background providing a gentle soundtrack to your quiet. The world outside blurred by, the streets illuminated by the fading light of day.

“I didn’t get to say congratulations earlier…” you finally broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. Hongjoong turned to meet your gaze, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Congratulations, Hongjoong. Everything turned out beautiful,” you said, allowing a small smile to surface.

His expression shifted to one of awe, and he smiled back softly. “Thank you, baby.” His voice was tender as he reached across the console to grasp your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. The warmth of his touch wrapped around you, anchoring you in the moment.

The car ride continued in a peaceful silence, his hand never leaving yours, a silent promise hanging in the air between you.

When you arrived at your apartment, Hongjoong parked on the curb and turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of warmth and affection. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Do you…” You looked up at him with your doe eyes, “I mean… can you stay for a while?” The words slipped out, tinged with vulnerability, feeling an ache in your heart, your voice quivering slightly.

Hongjoong’s expression softened at your request. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice a whisper as he cupped your cheek and leaned in for another kiss—this one lingering, a sweet connection that sent warmth flooding through you.

He maneuvered the car into a proper parking spot, and together you walked hand in hand up to your apartment complex, the silence between you comfortable.

As you stepped into your apartment, Hongjoong followed you to your bedroom.

Approaching your closet, you pulled out a few of Hongjoong's spare clothes—soft T-shirts and sweatpants that carried his scent. You handed them to him, a small gesture that felt significant. Both of you changed in comfortable silence, the weight of the day beginning to lift as you slipped into something more relaxed.

Once changed, you settled onto the bed, the mattress cradling your tired body. Instinctively, you curled into Hongjoong’s arms, seeking solace in his presence. His warmth wrapped around you, and you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. You sighed deeply, relief flooding through you, though your exhaustion was overshadowed by a restless mind.

“Hongjoong��” you began softly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of his T-shirt. He hummed in response, an encouraging sound that urged you to continue. “Do you… like Haeun?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken insecurities.

Hongjoong chuckled lightly, caught off guard by your unexpected inquiry. He shifted to look at you, propping himself up on one elbow, allowing your head to settle on the pillow instead of his chest.

“What kind of question is that, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was concern in his eyes as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You averted your gaze, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I saw her hug you…” you mumbled, staring at your fingers as they twisted together anxiously. “And… you’ve been asking for her assistance a lot.” The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable.

“Y/N, look at me,” Hongjoong urged gently, his hand caressing your cheek. Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. The seriousness in his expression made your heart flutter with both fear and hope.

“I do not like Haeun,” he declared firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t go seeking her out; she inserts herself into things. That hug? It was unexpected, and I didn’t know she was going to do that.” He took a deep breath, his tone softening. “I’ll have her manager talk to her about professionalism. You know that the only assistance I want is from you.”

At his words, your heart swelled, but tears threatened to spill over. “Hey… what’s going on? Talk to me, baby,” he cooed, concern etched across his features as he reached up to wipe away your tears.

“I just…” you choked on your words, feeling the emotions surge. “I’m sorry for being a crybaby about this. I know today was important, and I feel like I’m ruining it by bringing this up,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he reassured you, his tone steady. “Thank you for telling me how you feel. I promise I’ll make sure her manager puts her in check. And don’t you worry—because you are the only one I care about.” He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, the gesture soothing your racing heart.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he whispered softly as he pulled you back into his chest, cradling you against him. In that moment, wrapped in his warmth and sincerity, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, the earlier worries fading into the background.

———

As the days unfolded seamlessly, the exhibition remained a vibrant spectacle for the public. The buzz of visitors filled the air, their excited chatter blending with the soft hum of conversations among staff. Back in the office, life resumed its familiar cadence, the usual rhythm of daily tasks bringing a sense of normalcy. Colleagues flowed in and out, each taking turns to ensure the exhibition’s smooth operation, their laughter and discussions punctuating the usual office sounds.

Hongjoong, too, had become a near-permanent fixture at the exhibition, his presence almost a comfort. He appeared only in the mornings, a fleeting glimpse before he vanished into the vibrant chaos of the displays and the throngs of visitors.

After your conversation with him that night, a weight had lifted from your shoulders. Although the incident with Siwoo lingered at the back of your mind, you felt a sense of guilt that you hadn’t shared the details with Hongjoong. Siwoo had yet to pose any real threat, and you didn’t want to burden Hongjoong with worries that might lead to unnecessary complications.

Pulling away from your thoughts, you decided to take a break momentarily. You glance at your phone and see a message from Hongjoong.

Joongie <3: An investor wants to meet over dinner tonight at 6pm to discuss potential future plans after this exhibition. I need you there.

Joongie <3: And I’ll finally get to see that pretty face of yours.

You smile at the messages

Y/N: I’ll be there. I’ll meet you at the exhibition.

You shut off your phone and rise from your seat. You made your way to the coffee break room, looking forward to a moment of respite. As you made your way to the open door, you caught a snippet of conversation that made you pause. The unmistakable voice of Lee Haeun floated through the air.

“My fucken manager just lectured me about professionalism,” Lee Haeun said, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “All because I hugged the CEO at the exhibition opening ceremony.”

You froze, instinctively pressing your back against the wall just outside the coffee break room. Haeun was on her cellphone, speaking quietly, but the stillness of the office allowed you to catch every word.

“No, honestly! I was just congratulating him,” she continued, a conspiratorial giggle escaping her lips. “How can I get promoted unless I show some affection? If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Haeun’s tone was playful yet calculating, and you felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you leaned in closer, unable to tear yourself away from her words.

“I don’t care if I always do that,” she scoffed. “I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now”

A wave of anxiety washed over you, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. You wanted to walk away, to distance yourself from this unsettling conversation, yet something compelled you to stay and listen.

“Anyways, the CEO is playing hard to get. Although I think it’s because he’s probably fucking his secretary,” she added, laughter lacing her voice. Your heart sank.

“No, seriously, I saw them making out. And you’ll never guess who she is…”

“Professor Siwoo’s now ex-girlfriend,” Haeun whispered, her voice tinged with glee. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”

A chill ran down your spine. Haeun was the one who Siwoo cheated on you with. Haeun was the one who had told Siwoo about your relationship with Hongjoong. Now, it seemed she had set her sights on Hongjoong, all in pursuit of her ambitions. The realization hit you like a physical blow.

“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,” she chuckled, and the sound felt like ice water pooling in your veins. Your face drained of color as you processed what you had just overheard. She was scheming, manipulating those around her to climb the corporate ladder.

You felt sick, the implications of her words swirling in your mind. Without thinking, you turned and hurried back to your desk, your heart racing. You tried to maintain your composure, but the chaos inside you made it difficult. As you fidgeted with the papers on your desk, you fought to push the dark thoughts aside, the weight of Haeun’s intentions pressing heavily on your chest.

You need to tell Hongjoong. You have to, but the thought of how to approach him twists in your stomach like a knot. Haeun, with her seemingly flawless skills on the marketing team, has gained his appreciation, but beneath her polished exterior lies a darker reality. Her intentions are anything but innocent; she’s been causing trouble that ripples through the entire company. A wave of anger washes over you, surging in your chest like a tide. You can't let her get away with this.

Hours drag on as you throw yourself into your work, fingers flying over the keyboard as you finish files and set future schedules. Yet your mind is preoccupied, a cacophony of thoughts swirling around how to confront Hongjoong. You glance at the clock, you have to meet Hongjoong soon at the exhibition before heading out to the dinner. In doing so, you began gathering your things, and with each movement you can’t help but recall Haeun’s saccharine demeanor, the anger within you bubbles up anew.

Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, Haeun appears. She strides toward your desk, her confidence radiating like a spotlight, but instead of acknowledging you, she breezes past and heads directly for Hongjoong’s office. A flicker of irritation shoots through you.

She knocks on the door, her voice dripping with that infuriatingly sweet tone. “Mr. Kim?” When there’s no response, she knocks again, the sound echoing in the quiet office.

You can’t help but scoff under your breath. “Mr. Kim isn’t in his office today, Miss Lee,” you call out, leaning slightly forward in your chair. She turns to you, her smile a veneer of sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, haha, sorry! I just wanted to check for myself,” she replies, scrunching her nose in faux innocence.

“Whatever you need to tell him, I can relay the message,” you say, attempting to maintain an air of politeness despite your simmering irritation.

“Why do you always say that?” Haeun scoffs, laughing as if you’ve told her the world’s most absurd joke. You raise an eyebrow, amused at her audacity.

“If you’ve forgotten, Miss Lee, I am his secretary. It’s my job to handle these things,” you reply, keeping your tone calm.

“Right,” she says, sarcasm lacing her words. That’s it. You can’t hold back any longer. You push your chair back and stand up, meeting her gaze with a glare.

“Miss Lee, I suggest you work on your professionalism in this office. Don’t forget that I am your superior,” you state firmly, the weight of your position fueling your confidence. She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, but your frustration spills over.

“On top of that—” you call after her. Haeun turns back, her expression unimpressed.

“I heard everything you said in the coffee room,” you declare, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess them. Her eyes widen, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

“You’re talking about professionalism when you’re over here eavesdropping?!” she fires back, cutting you off.

“It’s not eavesdropping if you’re speaking loudly enough for the whole floor to hear,” you retort, kind of exaggerating but you don’t care as your irritation is sharpening.

“Miss Lee, if you don’t want to get fired, I suggest you get your act together and reconsider how you present yourself in this office. Trying to sleep with Mr. Kim isn’t going to work,” you say, crossing your arms defiantly.

Her laughter is chilling. “Why? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you? I bet that’s the reason why Siwoo kept coming to me for sex instead of you” She smirks and shoots you a dirty look that only fuels your resolve.

“Unlike you, I don’t sleep around with higher-ups to get what I want. I have self-respect. I worked hard to get where I am today, and it’s obvious you didn’t. Siwoo is a piece of trash that you just happened to fall into. I atleast got out.” You step forward, every word a declaration of your integrity. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner meeting to attend with Mr. Kim,” you say, brushing past her with a confidence that comes from standing your ground. The click of your heels on the floor echoes your anger, a sound of determination as you walk away from the confrontation, knowing you’ve said what needed to be said.

———

You hailed a taxi, the yellow vehicle pulling to a stop at the curb, its engine rumbling softly as you climbed inside. The city outside blurred by, a rush of color and sound that contrasted sharply with the turmoil churning within you. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, a boiling pot you struggled to contain as the driver navigated the bustling streets toward the exhibition building.

As the taxi came to a halt, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your face like a splash of cold water. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, breathing deeply, but the tension remained, coiling tightly in your chest.

Your eyes caught sight of Hongjoong standing outside the building, his charismatic presence commanding attention. He was engaged in conversation, shaking hands with several people who wore suits that screamed success. They laughed, shared pleasantries, and after a few moments, they dispersed, leaving him alone. As if sensing your gaze, he turned, a smirk spreading across his face, and for a brief second, it felt as though the world had slowed down. Yet, despite his warm demeanor, you couldn’t muster a smile in return. The weight of your emotions hung heavy, clouding your thoughts. With a deep breath, you approached him, determined to put on a brave face.

“Hey, baby~” he greeted, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist, his eyes sweeping over you with that familiar mix of affection and mischief.

“Hey,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.

His expression shifted, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. “Nothing… I’ll tell you later.” You sighed, your hand finding the back of his neck, a gesture meant to comfort both him and yourself.

“You sure?” he asked, his eyebrow arching in skepticism. You nodded, forcing a semblance of reassurance.

“Let’s go.” you say softly.

Together, you made your way to his car, the sleek vehicle reflecting the evening lights. As you settled into the passenger seat, silence enveloped you both. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You resolved to keep your thoughts to yourself for now, planning to wait until the meeting concluded.

The drive felt like an eternity. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur together as they passed. Finally, you arrived at the restaurant, its exterior exuding elegance. You both stepped inside, the atmosphere rich with the scent of gourmet dishes and the soft hum of polite conversation.

You took a seat beside Hongjoong, pulling out your notes, your mind shifting into professional mode. The investors began to arrive, and as they entered, you stood to shake hands, your professional mask firmly in place. The meeting commenced, and the conversation flowed around you—discussions filled with jargon, high-end meals, and clinking champagne flutes.

For the next hour, you sat mostly silent, your focus razor-sharp yet scattered. While others spoke and laughed, you found yourself distracted, your thoughts drifting back to the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress. All you could think about was the moment this meeting would end, and you could finally share what was weighing on your heart with Hongjoong.

As the last few guests trickled out of the restaurant, their laughter fading into the night, Hongjoong effortlessly settled the tab, his movements smooth and confident. You took a long, satisfying gulp of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your throat, and let out a deep sigh that spoke of both relief and frustration.

Hongjoong caught the sound, his gaze sharpening as he tucked his black card back into his wallet, his expression shifting to one of concern. “You ready?” he asked, his voice low and intent, eyes searching yours for an answer. You nodded, but it felt like a half-hearted response, so you took another swig of your drink to mask the turmoil inside you.

“Waiter, can I get a bottle of this champagne to go, please?” Hongjoong called, waving down a server with a charming smile. “Just put it on the same card I used.” The server nodded and made his way to the bar, leaving you puzzled.

“Why are you getting another bottle?” You frowned, confusion knitting your brows together.

Hongjoong leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “Something is clearly stressing you. We can head back to my place, relax, and talk it over with some champagne.” His hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a wave of comfort through you, even as the heaviness in your chest lingered.

Moments later, the server returned, the expensive bottle glinting under the soft restaurant lights. He bowed slightly as he handed it over, and Hongjoong’s smile widened, a flicker of delight breaking through your own tension. He took the bottle and intertwined his fingers with yours, anchoring you in the moment.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos in your mind. You rose from your seat, the weight of the evening still heavy but beginning to shift as you followed him, hand in hand.

———

Hongjoong guided you to his spacious living room, the atmosphere cozy and inviting. Warm lamps cast a soft glow that enveloped you both as he set the champagne bottle down on the polished coffee table. The room smelled faintly of citrus and leather, remnants of his day lingering in the air. With a brief nod, he disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses and a bottle opener, his movements fluid and confident.

You sank into the plush, oversized couch, your legs propped comfortably to the side. Pulling the soft throw blanket that rested nearby over your shoulders, you settled in, seeking warmth and comfort. You watched as Hongjoong effortlessly twisted the bottle cap, the satisfying pop echoing in the quiet room. He poured the golden liquid into the glasses, his focused demeanor drawing your eyes to the way his shirt hugged his frame, emphasizing his handsome features.

He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. With a knowing smile, he clinked your glasses together, the sound crisp and celebratory, before both of you took a sip. The bubbles danced on your tongue, but the sweetness of the moment was overshadowed by the weight on your heart. Hongjoong leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

“So, what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” he asked, his tone gentle yet probing. He had removed his blazer before entering, leaving him in a fitted button-up shirt and a tie that accentuated his confident demeanor. You blinked a few times, absorbing the sight of him, momentarily lost in his charm.

Finally, with a deep sigh, you set your glass down on the table, the clink resonating in the stillness.

“Hongjoong…” You shifted closer, your heart racing as you caught his gaze, the intensity in his eyes reflecting your own turmoil. He placed his glass on the table as well, sensing the seriousness of what you were about to share.

“A few weeks ago�� Siwoo came unannounced to my place…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“What?” Hongjoong’s response was sharp, filled with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Feeling a surge of anxiety, you took his hands in yours and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Hongjoong, please let me explain,” you urged softly, feeling his unwavering gaze upon you.

He remained silent, his expression a mixture of worry and frustration as you continued. “He showed up at my door, but I didn’t let him in. He came to tell me that… he knows about us.”

Hongjoong’s brows furrowed deeply as you pressed on. “He was angry, ranting about why I left him, but I didn’t engage in his tantrum; I just said what I needed to and closed the door.” You stared down at your lap, feeling the shame of the past wash over you.

“Did he try to hurt you?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the softness contrasting with the simmering anger in his eyes.

“No… he banged on the door a few times, but it didn’t last long,” you admitted, fearing his reaction. But the anger only intensified in his gaze as he shifted in his seat. He’s upset at himself that he wasn’t there to protect you. To comfort you after the unwanted encounter.

“Joong, please,” you said, gripping his arm. “How did he even find out?” Hongjoong asks

The concern on his face deepened as he waited, a storm of emotions brewing inside him. “Haeun… She told him. I overheard her talking on the phone today saying she saw us making out.” you hesitated, the lump in your throat tightening. “And not only that…She’s been trying to get close to you, potentially to sleep with you, in hopes of getting a promotion.” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. Hongjoong’s eyes widened in shock, his face twisting in disgust.

“I’ll fire her,” he said without hesitation, the conviction in his voice surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to respond so decisively.

He cupped your face, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “And… she also admitted to me that she was the one Siwoo cheated on me with.” Your heart sank further as you met his gaze, the realization heavy between you.

“Siwoo is her professor at the university,” you continued, your voice calm yet hollow. “She recognized me the moment she started working here.” Tears streamed down your face, even as you fought to maintain your composure.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, his fury palpable. He pulled you closer, your foreheads touching, creating an intimate bubble despite the turmoil surrounding you. “I will deal with them,” he whispered, his voice a fierce promise, igniting a spark of hope amidst the storm. He pulled you into his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective cocoon. His fingers gently stroked your hair, each soothing motion designed to calm the storm inside you. “I’m sorry you felt the need to keep this bottled up,” he whispered, his voice low and tender. “But, Y/N, seriously, next time, you need to tell me these things right away.” There was a soft frustration in his tone, directed not at you, but at the stress that Siwoo and Haeun had inflicted upon you.

You let out a soft whimper, sniffing away the remnants of your tears. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his words settle in your heart.

“I hate seeing other people make you cry,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker tone, filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling guilt creep in, despite knowing deep down it wasn’t your fault.

“No,” he said firmly, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet grounding. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter and your worries feel momentarily distant.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his gaze searching yours, looking for reassurance in your glossy eyes. You nodded slowly, the connection between you solidifying with that simple gesture.

He deepened the kiss, pouring his warmth and understanding into the moment, before pulling you into another embrace. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this sanctuary of comfort.

“Stay the night,” he suggested softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Let’s shower and relax. You need it.”

You nodded again, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, allowing him to lead you upstairs.

———

You strip your clothes and step into the large warm shower room. Hongjoong follows behind you. The steaming water envelops you two, sighing as you allow yourself to relax. You both silently wash each other’s bodies and hair carefully. The only sound that can be heard is the water streaming and tapping on the tile floors. The quietness is comforting and much needed. You feel Hongjoong’s arm wrap behind you. His strong arm over your chest as he pulls you to his embrace. You both slowly rock underneath the water hitting your backs. His face nuzzles into your neck. Leaving soft kisses. You tilt your head allowing him more access to your soft wet skin.

“Y/N” Hongjoong softly mumbles against your neck.

“Yes?” You reply quietly taking in the sensation of his touch.

“I love you.” Hongjoong plants another kiss your neck once more before turning you around to face him. Your heart swells at his confession. You look at him in awe,

“I have always loved you.” Hongjoong whispers cupping your face.

“I love you Hongjoong” You whimper, pulling him into a deep kiss. Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. Your lips move together in sync, tongues brushing against each other, your noses bumping together.

You feel Hongjoong grow harder as you two continue the heated kiss. You pant as his hands move together your waist, pulling you closer to his waist.

His lips are back to your neck, leaving a trail as he moves further down to your breasts. You moan at his warm tongue lapping over your nipples. He kisses the top of your breast briefly before softly biting it. He sucks your soft skin intentionally leaving a red mark.

“H—hongjoong” You moan throwing your head back. He pulls away and admires his marking on your skin. He smirks and leans down to kiss you. You moves your body slowly, your back softly lands against the cold tile walls. He slowly drops to his knees.

“Only you make me feel like this Y/N” Hongjoong softly says and hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder. He caresses your ass and brings your hips forward. He leaves a wet trail of kisses in your inner thighs. You whimper at the sensitive feeling. Hongjoong sticks out his tongue and strips it along your clit, earning a breathy moan from you. He tastes your wet juices and groans against your skin.

“Fuck” you moan as Hongjoong begins lapping his warm tongue over and over your entrance. His nose brushes against your clit stimulating you more.

Hongjoong devours your pussy harder as he enjoys your constant moans. His other arm hooks under your other leg bringing it to his shoulder. He lifts you effortlessly off the ground, against the wet tile wall. He holds onto your hips gripping onto your skin as he continues eating you out. Your hands instinctively grasp onto his hair for support. You’re a moaning mess as you move against his mouth.

Hongjoong groans and pulls your legs off. He’s back onto his feet and lifts you once again. You wrap your arms around his neck as he inserts his dick inside your pussy. You both moan loudly. He fucks you agaisnt the wall in a slow pace.

“God baby, you feel so fucken good” Hongjoong moans, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Want to feel you all the fucken time” He continues, kissing your neck in desperation.

“Me too Joong” you moan, “I want to be with you all the time” You whine holding him closer.

“Fuckk” He curses and picks up his pace. The grip on your waist tightens, making sure you won’t fall.

You cup Hongjoong’s face and bring his lips to yours. You brush your tongue over his lips and he moans, opening his mouth. You share a heated, wet messy kiss as he continues pumping into you. The once quiet shower, is now filled with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other and heartfelt moans and breathy loving praises.

Hongjoong’s strokes become slow but deep, hitting your g spot at a perfect high. Your can’t help but tear up at the overwhelming pleasure, your tears fall flawlessly.

“So fucken pretty when you cry for me baby” Hongjoong moans and kisses your tears over and over. His wet lips peppering your teary face as he continues fucking you deeper. You moan loudly at his loving gesture making you whimper more as you feel your orgasm nearing.

“I’m going to cum Joong~” you whimper against his lips. “Me too baby” Hongjoong moans picking up his pace. You hold onto him tighter, wrapping your legs securely around his waist.

“C—cum inside me please Joongie?” you whine.

“Fuuck baby.” Hongjoong throws his head back, “Want me to fill your pussy?” He groans.

“Y—yess. I want it all p-please” You’re a whimpering mess as his pace becomes sloppy.

“Fuck okay baby. Joongie will cum inside your right pussy” He grunts, resting his forehead against yours as he looks into your glossy teary eyes,

“P-promise?” you whimper with a pout. Hongjoong feels his cock twitch as he looks at your cute fucked out expression.

“Fuuuck fuck, yes baby I promise” Hongjoong releases a load moan and continues his pace.

“I’m cumming” Hongjoong groans, and you hold onto him tightly, Your orgasm takes over you as you come together with him. You shake on his dick as you feel his hot warm cum shoot inside of you. You are both a panting mess. He stays inside of you for a while as you both take time to come down from your high.

Hongjoong slowly helps you back onto your feet as he slips out of you. His load drips out of your wet pussy in an instant and Hongjoong chuckles

“Fuck, that’s so hot” He groans and brings his fingers to collect his cum and shove it back inside you. You moan at the feeling and grab onto his shoulders.

“Joong~” you whine and he smirks.

“Such a fucken good girl baby” He kisses your lips. “Let’s wash up again” You both quietly giggle in each other’s embrace as you both take time cleaning one another.

Exiting the warm cascade of the shower, the steam curling around you like a gentle embrace, Hongjoong steps forward, his gaze softening as he wraps a towel around you. The fabric is plush against your skin, and you can’t help but giggle at his attentive care. He lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest, and you instinctively hold onto him, feeling secure in his arms.

With a playful grin, he tosses you onto the bed, the soft sheets inviting against your damp skin. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your waist, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, igniting a warmth that spreads through you.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he says, winking as he strides toward his expansive walk-in closet, the door swinging open to reveal an array of garments. You watch him rummage through the selection, his movements confident and relaxed.

When he returns, he’s in a pair of baggy gray sweats that hang low on his hips. In his hand, he holds an oversized shirt. He helps you slip into it, the shirt engulfing you in its cozy embrace. You can’t help but smile at how effortlessly he tends to you.

Once settled, he lays down beside you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. You instinctively curl up against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a state of comfort. A contented sigh escapes your lips as you nestle closer, feeling the safety of his presence enveloping you.

“I love you, Hongjoong,” you whisper softly, the words flowing from your heart with sincerity.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replies, his voice a gentle caress. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around you, pulling you even closer.

As the world outside fades away, a comforting silence settles around you, and together, you drift into a deep slumber, hearts intertwined in a peaceful embrace.

———

Email:

Miss Lee,

Please report to my office as soon as possible.

Haeun glanced at Hongjoong’s email, a smirk curling at the corners of her lips. Finally, the moment she had been waiting for had arrived: an opportunity for some alone time with him. With a purposeful stride, she made her way to Hongjoong’s office, only to notice that you were absent from your desk. She let out a derisive scoff, a wicked smile spreading across her face.

Interesting, she mused, Hongjoong wants to meet with me when Y/N isn’t around? It’s clear he’s been waiting for this. The thrill of her thoughts sent a rush of satisfaction through her as she approached the office door, knocking sharply.

“Come in,” Hongjoong’s calm voice echoed from within. Haeun twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing Hongjoong seated on his desk, arms crossed, a piercing gaze fixed on her.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. You wanted to see me?” Haeun purred, striding towards him with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“Please, sit. I have something important to discuss with you,” Hongjoong replied, his tone suddenly taking on a more serious edge. Haeun’s bravado faltered slightly at his stern demeanor, but she quickly recovered, settling into the chair with a deliberate poise.

“Sir, is everything alright?” she asked, her voice laced with faux sweetness.

“Miss Lee, do you have anything to tell me?” His glare was unyielding, and Haeun felt a flicker of unease.

“No, sir…” she replied, feigning innocence.

“Think again, Miss Lee.” He rose from his seat, moving around to sit on the edge of his desk. Haeun’s mind raced. Is he trying to initiate something? She rose from her chair, taking deliberate steps towards him, leaning in close.

“Mr. Kim, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bad girl” Haeun pouts. “Maybe you can teach me a lesson?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning closer.

Hongjoong recoiled, shoving her hands away with a look of disgust.

“Miss Lee, you’ve just proven that you’re unfit for this job or any job, for that matter.” He crossed his arms, his expression hardening.

“What?” Haeun’s confusion morphed into frustration, but a scoff escaped Hongjoong's lips as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote. With a click, the office TV screen flickered to life, revealing a recording.

Haeun’s heart dropped as she saw herself in the coffee break room, casually taking a phone call. Her own voice echoed through the office, each word hammering into her with a heavy weight.

“I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now.”

The screen continued to replay her words, her bravado on full display. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”

“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,”

The color drained from Haeun's face as the realization hit her. Hongjoong paused the tape, letting the silence hang in the air like a noose.

“Miss Lee—” he began.

“I can explain!” she interjected, desperation creeping into her voice.

“There’s no need for an explanation,” he said unbothered. “I’ve spoken with your university and they talked to Professor Park Siwoo. You two weren’t as discreet as you thought.” Haeun’s eyes brimmed with tears, fear and anger intertwining within her.

“If you fire me, I’ll tell the press about your relationship with Y/N!” she threatened, her voice shaking. Hongjoong smirked in amusement,

“Your first mistake was disrespecting the woman I love. Now you think you can threaten me?” Hongjoong’s scoff echoed in the large office. “Go ahead, tell the press. We make a great couple, and we’re both well-loved by everyone. Nothing will happen.” His demeanor was unfazed, almost bored. And that infuriated Haeun.

“Lee Haeun, you’re fired. Pack your things and leave your employee badge on the way out,” he said firmly.

“Mr. K-Kim, please—” Haeun pleaded again, panic rising in her chest.

“LEAVE NOW!” Hongjoong shouted, pointing decisively at the door.

Hurt and humiliation surged through her. Haeun’s chest puffed with indignation as tears streamed down her face. With a defiant rip, she tore the employee badge from her neck and stormed out of his office, the echo of the door slamming behind her.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh, a mix of relief and irritation swirling within him as he settled back into his desk chair. He had promised you that he would take care of Haeun and Siwoo, and he had followed through on that promise. This morning, he had insisted you take the day off—more like he had firmly nudged you out of the office for your own safety. He knew the moment he reported Siwoo’s inappropriate behavior to the university, the man would come hunting for you, either at your apartment or at work. So, as a precaution, he had whisked you away to his home, a sanctuary away from the chaos.

Now, you were indulging in the warmth of his jacuzzi, the steam rising around you like a gentle embrace as you binge-watched your favorite shows. The serene atmosphere was a welcome escape until the tranquility was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Glancing at the screen, your heart fluttered when you saw Hongjoong’s name.

“Hi Joong,” you greeted softly, a smile blooming on your face.

“Hey baby, how you feeling?” His warm voice wrapped around you, sending a comforting shiver down your spine.

“I’m okay,” you replied, the softness in your tone matching the coziness of your surroundings.

“That’s good…” Hongjoong paused, and you could sense the weight of the world behind his words. “I talked to the university. They fired Siwoo.”

“Oh…” You were taken aback by the speed of his actions. It was reassuring and impressive, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“So, I think it’s best if you stay at my house for a few days. Siwoo is probably going to try to hunt you down,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Joong…” you said, feeling a swell of gratitude. “And… what about Haeun?” You hesitated, the name lingering on your lips.

“Fired,” he stated simply. The relief that washed over you was palpable, a soothing balm to the tension that had built up in your chest.

“Thank you so much, Hongjoong,” you sighed, the weight lifting from your shoulders.

“I’d do anything to protect you, baby,” he replied, a promise nestled in his words. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you answered, warmth flooding your heart as the call ended.

You leaned back into the bubbling water, feeling as if a hundred burdens had been lifted from your shoulders. Each breath you took felt lighter, filled with gratitude for Hongjoong’s unwavering support. He had stood up for you, proving time and again how deeply he cared. This only deepened your affection for him, igniting a desire to be the best version of yourself. You wanted to show him just how much he meant to you, how much you appreciated everything he did. In this moment, you were reminded that love wasn’t just about grand gestures; it was about the quiet, steadfast presence that made everything feel safe.

———

A month had slipped by since Hongjoong confronted Siwoo and Haeun, and in that time, your life had transformed in ways you had only dared to dream. Happiness enveloped you like a warm blanket; the office, once a place of tension and unease, had returned to its familiar rhythm. Yet, there was a significant change that stirred beneath the surface—Hongjoong had made the bold decision to announce your relationship to the entire company.

At first, the thought of being so publicly exposed filled you with trepidation. The fear of judgment and gossip loomed large in your mind. But Hongjoong, with his unwavering confidence, had reassured you. “Everything is going to be okay,” he’d said, his eyes steady and sincere. And as always, he was right.

When the news broke, the initial shock soon gave way to a wave of excitement among your colleagues. The reactions were overwhelmingly positive. People whispered excitedly in the break room, their faces lighting up with joy. Some had even confided that they had hoped for this moment, having observed the undeniable chemistry between you and Hongjoong. “We always knew you two were meant to be!” one coworker exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Others chimed in, reminiscing about moments they’d witnessed that hinted at your connection—the way Hongjoong would always find a reason to check in on youz It became clear that your relationship was not only accepted but celebrated. Your colleagues appreciated the way you both balanced your professional responsibilities with the tenderness of your partnership. It made the atmosphere in the office lighter, more enjoyable, and ultimately strengthened the bonds among the team.

As you settled back into the daily grind, you couldn’t help but notice the difference in the dynamics at work. Your coworkers seemed more relaxed, their laughter echoing through the halls as they reveled in the joy of your romance. You felt a renewed sense of belonging, and it was all thanks to Hongjoong’s courage to stand by your side.

In meetings, there was a new energy, a camaraderie that had blossomed from your relationship. Everyone seemed more engaged, and the collaborative spirit was palpable. You and Hongjoong often exchanged knowing glances across the conference table, little sparks of affection that did not go unnoticed. It was as if your love had breathed new life into the workplace, creating an environment where everyone felt a little more connected.

Every day, as you walked into the office, you felt grateful for the second chance at happiness you had found with Hongjoong. His steadfast support and the way he embraced your relationship with such pride made you appreciate him even more. Together, you were not just colleagues but partners in every sense of the word, navigating the complexities of both work and love hand in hand. It was a beautiful balance, one that made you look forward to each new day with excitement and hope.

———

“Hey, let’s go out tonight after your shift,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning casually over your monitor. His warm smile lit up the dim office, and you felt your heart flutter in response.

“Where to?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your voice.

“Just for a drink at a pub,” he replied, that charming grin never wavering.

“Okay,” you said, a smile spreading across your face as you felt the anticipation of the evening ahead.

As the clock struck the end of your shift, you found yourself stepping into the bustling pub, its lively atmosphere a sharp contrast to the quiet confines of the office. You and Hongjoong made your way to the bar, where you settled onto the cushioned stools. After placing your orders—something refreshing for you and a darker brew for him—Hongjoong insisted on getting some appetizers to share.

“So what’s the occasion?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink, the coolness invigorating.

“Does there need to be an occasion to take my girlfriend out?” he replied, arching an eyebrow playfully.

“Well, no…” you admitted, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as you met his gaze. His laughter was like music to your ears, filling the space between you with warmth.

“I know we’ve both been busy lately. I just wanted us to finally take some time for ourselves,” Hongjoong said, leaning closer. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Plus, I’ve been craving this pub’s appetizers.”

You both shared a laugh, the ease of the moment enveloping you. The night unfolded with heartfelt conversations and playful banter, the outside world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other. Hongjoong's hand rested comfortably on your thigh, a subtle but electrifying reminder of his presence as he looked at you with admiration.

“I’ll be back. I need to use the bathroom,” he said, rising from his seat. Before he turned away, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “When I get back, let’s go home so I can take care of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as you nodded, caught off guard yet undeniably thrilled by the promise behind his statement. As he walked away, you took a moment to collect yourself, the ambiance of the pub buzzing around you while you savored the anticipation of what was to come.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice sliced through the ambient noise of the pub, and your heart dropped like a stone. You turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomach.

“S-Siwoo…” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you.

He leaned against the bar table, a mocking grin plastered across his face. “I knew it was you.” Without a hint of hesitation, he snatched the drink from your hand and downed it in one swift motion. “You know, ever since you left me, I haven’t been the same,” he said, feigning a hurt tone.

“Siwoo, you need to leave,” you said firmly, your heart racing.

“Oh, did you finally grow some confidence?” he chuckled, his gaze piercing as he studied you. “You used to be so easy to push around until you started hanging out with that snobby CEO of yours.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing a fry from your plate and crunching it between his teeth. “Where’s that person who got me fired, anyway?”

You turned away, trying to ignore him. Engaging with Siwoo would only escalate the situation. “Aww, don’t tell me he stood you up?” Siwoo leaned closer, his voice dripping with insincerity. “Let me take you home and remind you of what you’re missing.” His smirk made your skin crawl.

Just then, you felt a strong arm drape over your shoulders, pulling you into a protective embrace.

“She’s already coming home with me,” Hongjoong said coolly, his voice unwavering. The intensity of the moment made your heart race even faster. “And I doubt she’s missing anything from you.” A confident smirk graced his lips.

“Ahh~ there you are, the CEO she’s been with,” Siwoo sneered, standing up to face Hongjoong. “And the reason I got fired…”

“Hongjoong, let’s go…” you said softly, sensing the tension rising. You could feel Hongjoong’s cool demeanor, but you knew how volatile Siwoo could be. He nodded, helping you out of your chair with a deliberate calm.

“Awh, come on! You’re leaving already?!” Siwoo shouted, his voice rising above the chatter of the pub as you and Hongjoong passed him. Hongjoong’s arm remained protectively around you, guiding you away.

“You’re a whore, Y/N!” Siwoo called after you, causing several heads to turn. The weight of his words hung in the air, and Hongjoong’s eyes blazed with rage. He turned to you, cupping your face with a mix of concern and intensity before quickly redirecting his focus back to Siwoo.

In a swift motion, Hongjoong stepped toward Siwoo, grabbing him by the collar. Gasps echoed throughout the pub, and your stomach twisted with fear at the prospect of a fight breaking out.

Hongjoong tightened his grip, his voice low and menacing. “You better stay in your fucken lane. I already got you fired from your job. Now imagine what worse I can do.”

Siwoo scoffed, trying to play it off. “Is that a threat?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Siwoo. I can end you.” Hongjoong’s smirk was chilling.

Siwoo rolled his eyes and shoved Hongjoong’s arms off him, but Hongjoong didn’t budge. “You think you’re all big and mighty because you’ve got money?” Siwoo taunted, pushing Hongjoong again.

In that moment, you stepped closer to Hongjoong, grabbing his arm. “Joong, let’s go home,” you pleaded, desperation in your voice. He looked at you, his jaw tightening, before finally relenting.

“Yeah, listen to your bitch,” Siwoo laughed, and Hongjoong’s anger flared again, but you quickly pulled him back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Hongjoong, look at me. It’s not worth it. He’s purposely trying to provoke you. Let’s just go home, please.” Your voice was calm yet insistent.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his expression softening as he closed his eyes to steady himself. He held your hand tightly, nodding in agreement. Leaning down, he pressed a warm, deep kiss to your lips, igniting a spark of comfort amidst the chaos. As he pulled away, he gave you a reassuring smile before wrapping his arm securely around your shoulders, leading you toward the exit.

“Fuck you, Y/N!” Siwoo shouted after you, but Hongjoong shot a glare over his shoulder, the intensity palpable as you stepped outside.

“Security, make sure that man doesn’t come back here,” Hongjoong instructed a guard at the door, his tone authoritative.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. I’ll deal with him right away,” the security guard responded, bowing slightly before making his way back inside.

You looked up at Hongjoong, confusion etched on your face. “You know that security guard?”

“The owner of this pub is my best friend,” Hongjoong said with a wink, pulling you closer. “Everyone knows me very well.” The sense of safety his presence offered enveloped you as you stepped into the cool night air, leaving the chaos of the pub behind.

———

The ride back home felt suffocatingly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut through. Hongjoong’s jaw was clenched, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. He stared straight ahead, focused on the road as if it were a lifeline, completely lost in his thoughts.

“Joong…” you ventured, breaking the silence, but he merely hummed in response, his eyes never leaving the asphalt ribbon winding before him.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. You could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, a bittersweet sting threatening to spill over.

He sighed heavily as he turned into his driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Finally, he parked the car and turned to face you, his expression softening just a fraction.

“Why would I be mad at you, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, yet a hint of concern lingered beneath the surface. He reached up, his fingers tangling lightly in your hair, caressing you with a tenderness that melted away some of the heaviness between you.

“I just hate that he disrespected you like that,” he admitted, knowing the weight of the earlier confrontation with Siwoo still pressed on your heart. Hongjoong’s hand glided down to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm, seeking comfort in his warm touch.

“Who cares about him? He’s irrelevant and pathetic,” you murmured, a fire igniting in your chest. Hongjoong chuckled softly, the sound a balm to your frayed nerves.

“You’re so right, baby,” he replied, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips. He released a deep sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. “Let me show you who you belong to.”

A teasing giggle escaped your lips as you unfastened your seatbelt. “I already know who I belong to,” you shot back, your heart racing at the promise in his words.

In an instant, you both leaped out of the car, adrenaline surging through you. Hongjoong strode toward you with purpose, his hand playfully tapping your hips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaping into his embrace. He caught you easily, securing your waist as you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.

“Fuck, Y/N” he said, his impatience evident as he made his way toward the grand front doors of his house. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, peppering soft kisses along his neck, each one igniting the warmth in both your hearts.

Hongjoong couldn’t take the few extra steps to his bed. Instead, he dropped you onto the soft plush couch. You giggled in an instant and looked at him in awe. Hongjoong quickly shook off his coat and loosened his tie. You reached for the satin fabric and gripped on it tightly. You pulled it forward, causing Hongjoong to drop onto the couch with you. He propped himself up with his palms on the sides of your head. You pulled him closer, closing the gap between your lips.

You whimpered in the kiss as his tongue lapped against yours. Hongjoong chuckles at your boldness and instinctively begins rubbing his lower body against yours.

“I fucken love you Y/N” Hongjoong moans and moves towards your neck. You begin panting at his warm tongue brushing against your soft skin.

“God I love you Hongjoong” You moan, running your hands through his soft hair.

Hongjoong’s hands move to your thin white blouse and hastily unbuttons your shirt. In desperation, he rips off the shirt. The white buttons can be heard ripping off the fabric.

“Joong~ that was my favorite shirt!” you whine with a slight giggle at his eagerness.

“I’ll fucken buy you a hundred of those later” Hongjoong hisses and stuffs his face in your soft breasts. You moan in response and throw your head back.

Hongjoong pulls away from you and looks at you with the most lustful gaze ever. He begins unbuttoning your black slacks and pulling them off your waist. You’re left in your matching red lace bra and panties.

“You know, I fucken love that you’re always in a sexy pair of matching bra and underwear” Hongjoong praises as his hands run down your body. Taking in your whole existence. He leans down to pepper kisses along your waist and over your chest.

“Oh~ Joong-“ You moan at his intoxicating soft touch.

Hongjoong pulls away once again, and begins pulling off his tie.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Hongjoong softly asks and he grips his tie in his hands. You nod in response. He begins bringing his tie towards your eyes.

“W—wait” you say hastily, Hongjoong instantly stops and looks at you in concern.

“I—I want to see you take off your clothes first…” you whisper, feeling embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckles and his smirk widens

“Such a dirty girl.” Hongjoong places his tie on the head of the couch.

“Help Joongie take off his clothes then” Hongjoong teases leaning back on his knees. You pout in embarrassment and begin propping yourself up. Your hands reach towards the buttons of his shirt and for some reason you struggle to unbutton it. “Come on baby~” Hongjoong chuckles at your clumsiness. Tears well up in embarrassment as you finally get the last buttons off. You push fabric off his toned arms and whimper at his sexy body. Your fingers grace over his tattoo and you instinctively kiss it. Hongjoong groans at your gesture and caresses your hair.

“Fuck, take off my pants baby” Hongjoong says as he stands up on his feet. You reach towards his belt and unbuckle it quickly. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes in frustration and desperation to feel him. Hongjoong moans at the sight of your teary eyes. He cups your cheek and wipes your tears slowly.

“So fucken pretty” he whispers as you pull off his pants and briefs. His hard cock throbs in craving for you. Hongjoong leans down and kisses your lips as his thumbs brush your wet cheeks.

“Fuck do I really want to cover your pretty eyes?” Hongjoong chuckles as he rests his forehead on yours. You whimper in protest, to be honest you love seeing his face as he fucks you senseless.

Hongjoong pulls away and shakes his head. Releasing a sigh he grabs his tie.

“Nah, I do.” Hongjoong smirks as you pout. He brings the tie towards your face and you close your eyes in instinct. He securely ties the fabric around your face and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll take this off once your tears soak up that tie.” He whispers softly. “Understood?” Hongjoong leans towards your ear his soft breath sending shivers down your spine, “Yes, Hongjoong.” you whimper out.

“You gotta cry for me, alright baby?” Hongjoong groans as he pulls away to take in the lewd sight of you.

“Yes, Joong~” you moan as tears fall from your eyes and hit the fabric.

Hongjoong carefully pushes your body to lay on the soft cushioned couch. His hands grace over your waist and thighs. He hooks his fingers over your red lacy panties to pull them off, a wet string of your juices clings onto the fabric.

“Fuck, Y/N you’re so wet” Hongjoong moans at the sight of your perfect wet pussy.

“I don’t even need to prep you baby” Hongjoong chuckles as he inserts a finger in you. You release a loud moan, tears streaming down. Hongjoong touches himself as he begins pumping his fingers deeper into your wet cunt. The quiet living room is filled with the sounds of your wet pussy, breathy pants from Hongjoong, and quiet whines from your plump lips.

“What’s wrong baby?” Hongjoong teases, his pace getting faster.

“W—want you inside Joongie.” You cry as you reach out your hands in hope to touch his skin. Hongjoong bites his lips at the submissive state you’re in.

“Yeah? You want me inside of you?” Hongjoong moans.

“Y—yes, please” you whimper out sniffling your nose. You feel the first layer of the satin fabric getting soaked at you cry in desperation to feel Hongjoong.

“Awh~ such a crybaby” Hongjoong chuckles as he pulls his fingers out of you. He places his fingers in his mouth tasting you, and he begins pumping himself faster. He moans at his lewd action, knowing you can’t see how dirty he looks right now tasting your juices on his fingers in pleasure.

“Fuck-“ He grunts as he pops his fingers out his mouth.

Now impatient as well, Hongjoong quickly enters you. You yelp in pleasure, finally feeling him inside of you. Hongjoong moans at your warm pussy wrapping around him. He quickly reaches behind your back and skillfully unclasps your bra. He fondles your breasts and begins moving his hips deeper inside you. You’re a moaning, crying mess from the overstimulation of his hard big cock hitting your g-spot with ease.

Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your face. Your lips are plumped and parted as you moaned. Your cheeks flushed red in pleasure. The satin fabric that covered your eyes is soaked with your tears. He moans in desperation to see your glossy teary eyes. So in response, he leans down to kiss your lips softly before he pulls the satin tie off your face.

Your watery eyes are met with a dreamy faced Hongjoong. He clearly looks just as fucked out as you as. His strokes get deeper at the sight of your face. Your mascara began smearing lightly, as the mixture of your tears and the fabric cause the streaks down your face. Hongjoong moans loudly as he brings his hands to cup your face and wipe your tears and smeared makeup.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum already.” Hongjoong grunts as he closes his eyes, taking in the immense pleasure.

“Me too Joong~” you moan in response.

“Yeah, cum for me baby” Hongjoong’s pace becomes sloppy as more tears stream down your face.

“H—harder” you whimper, wrapping your arms and legs around his body, bringing him closer.

“Fuck Y/N~” Hongjoong thrusts harder and deeper. He feels your pussy clench over his cock, knowing you hit your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as you ride out your high. Hongjoong quickens his pace and grunts, feeling himself cumming.

“So fucken good for me” Hongjoong moans loudly as he thrusts deeply in you and releases his load inside you.

You moan at the warm feeling, holding onto him as you both calm down from the intense orgasm. Hongjoong’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he pants. Your hands found their way to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Fuck I should just make you have my baby” Hongjoong chuckles. You gasp in response and giggle.

“Not yet Joong~” you blush at his words.

“Hm? not yet? interesting” he teases, puckering his lips to kiss your neck. You laugh at his banter as he pulls away from you. He kisses your lips deeply and caresses your face.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his breath a gentle caress against your ear.

The words sent a rush of warmth through you, causing your heart to clench with an overwhelming mix of affection and longing. “I love you, Hongjoong,” you replied, your voice filled with sincerity, each syllable weighted with emotion.

The love you felt for him was unlike anything else—something deep and indescribable. It transcended mere words, existing in the shared glances, the tender touches, and the quiet moments of understanding. You knew that Hongjoong would do anything for you, going to great lengths to ensure your happiness and protect you from harm.

In return, you would do anything for him without hesitation. You’d sacrifice everything for his joy, support him through every challenge, and stand by his side through the ups and downs of life.

You knew that you’d love him, hold him, and cry for him. Forever.

Authors note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH ALL DONE! I hope you all enjoyed reading this filthy Trilogy. Lmk what was your fav part🤭 Me personally was when hongjoong was tasting your juices on his fingers while jacking off 🤷‍♀️ omg.

Anyways, thank you for all the support and patience! Please like, reblog, and comment your thoughts in my comment section or ask box. Lots of loveeee❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez writing #yeostinywrites #hongjoong smut #hongjoong #hongjoongcryforme #hongjoong hard thoughts #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong x reader

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amsgrey · 2 years ago

Text

Useful Skills

Shadow Summoner! Fem Reader x Kaz Brekker

SPOILERS for Wylans story arc and season two of shadow and bone.

Slow Burn with Kaz because he deserves someone willing to go his pace.

Synopsis: Kaz needs new blood and it comes in the form of Wylan's childhood best friend. A powerful Grisha.

warnings: angst, I did my best to be accurate to Kaz but show Kaz is a little different from Book Kaz so I'm still learning, general angsty crap, and mention of the reader being related to the darkling (trying to make it a little accurate to the books/show)

You had known Wylan Van Eck for almost 8 years, your mother was a maid in his house. You and your mother lived in the servant's quarters on the Van Eck property, meaning you spent almost all your time around him and his family. You never went to a proper school, your mother didn't want you to when you lived in Ravka in case the Grisha testers came. She kept your abilities hidden until you moved to Ketterdam where Grisha testers wouldn't find you.

Your mother died a few years ago, and you left the Van Eck house and found work as a server in a Pub. It was not a job you were happy with but it kept a roof over your head so you would suffer through it for now. You lost touch with Wylan until one day when he entered the pub with three other people.

You almost didn't recognize him, he hadn't grown much from when he was a child but he looked a little more confident. He was sitting against a lanky zemeni boy, exchanging hopelessly smitten glances. Opposite them was a woman dressed in a beautiful gown and a man clad in all black with almost no skin showing. They were in complete contrast to Wylan and the Zemeni boy, sitting as far away from each other as possible.

It was the end of your shift when another server seated them in a booth at the far end of the pub. You knew you had to walk past them to get to the back, where your bag was stored in a small closet away from customers, but walking past meant possibly being recognized.

You hadn't left the Van Eck residence in good faith, having lost your temper at Wylans father for working your mother into the ground and causing her death. When Wylan had tried to speak with you, you had snapped at him and stormed away. Did he hold that against you and would he be hostile? Why was he here of all places?

You tried not to think about it, walking straight passed the table and through the back. You stumbled around the chefs and untied your apron, shoving it in your bag. You took a deep breath before heading back the way you came. You opened the door and stepped out, sidestepping around another waiter serving food at a table close by. As you tried to walk past the table Wylan was seated at, a cane blocked your path.

You stared down at the black cane blocking your path, following it to the gloved hand which held it. You didn't have to remember his name to know who he was.

The man clad in black stared at you, "Y/N, take a seat."

You almost laughed, stopping yourself before offending the bastard of the barrel, "And why would I do that?"

"Because your skills are wasted here."

You would be lying if you weren't interested. But how did Dirtyhands, leader of the Dregs, know what skills you had?

The Zemeni slid over a little more on his side of the booth, dragging Wylan along with him. You hesitantly sat down, avoiding eye contact with Wylan.

"Hi," Wylan squeaked out, offering a shy smile. Your heart melted slightly Wylan was the kindest soul you had ever met. He wouldn't dare hurt a fly and didn't deserve the mistreatment he got from his father.

"Hey,' You replied, feeling any tension resolve. You offered him a smile, watching the anxiety melt away from his face. To further remove any tension, you stole a piece of bread from his plate that sat untouched in front of him. Picking off a piece and eating it casually.

The girl on the opposite side of the booth giggled, following your lead and humming an appreciative sound at the taste.

"So..?" You turned to Brekker, "What is it exactly that you think my skills are?"

Kaz's eyes flickered from you to Wylan next to you, "Wylan tells me you have a unique talent."

You paused your movements, turning to narrow your eyes at Wylan, "Did he just," You grumbled. You had shown Wylan your summoning when you were both 15. He was your best friend and swore he would never tell another soul, he was the only person you knew who wasn't scared of shadow summoning.

Wylan stumbled over his sentence, "I didn't, uh, tell him everything."

Kaz's face morphed into a scowl.

This time you did laugh, "So you came here on a whim?"

Kaz opened his mouth to speak but was beaten by the woman.

"We need your help to break someone out of Hellgate."

Your face gave away your surprise, you had never been anywhere near Hellgate but you knew the stories, "Hellgate? As in the most secure place in Ketterdam?"

"Wylan seems to think you can help us," Kaz said.

You looked at your childhood friend, thinking over the specifics. You just might be able to help but summoning meant exposing yourself and your abilities. The Fold and The Darkling were gone, but how would people react to another shadow summoner?

"So," the Zemeni spoke, his arm draped over Wylans shoulders, "You in?"

Stepping into the Slat for the first time felt strange. You hadn't been in a warm, dry place for years. Finding it now in the middle of the barrel felt counter intuitive. You weren't expecting it, but once you stepped past the threshold you were hit by a wave of warmth.

You were somewhat jealous, your own room in the boarding house was never this warm. And you lived on the outskirts of the barrel and the financial district.

The bottom of the slat held a bar that had seen better days, to say the least. Kaz led the way to another booth, clearly the group's go-to planning table. Maps of Hellgate and various scribbled notes were perched on the wood.

You slipped into the booth and sat next to Nina, who had talked your ear off the whole walk to the Slat about Matthias the (former) Düskelle and love of her life. You didn't mind, enjoying listening to something more upbeat than the drunken rambles of patrons you were used to. Besides, it was clear she was head over heels and you always tried to help out fellow Grisha.

As Kaz went over what he was planning, you listened intently. He had fleshed out almost every part of the plan, but kept on ending up with one key factor.

"We'll be seen."

You shared a glance with Wylan.

"I can help with that."

Kaz quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to explain further. You were hesitant, they could fear you and kill you on the spot. Or you might have to kill them.

You looked around the room, by now it was so late into the night that even the bars would be closing. There was no one else in the Slat. The last Dregs had crawled in half an hour ago and were nowhere to be seen. It didn't mean anyone couldn't walk in at any time.

Nina could feel your heartbeat grow more erratic, "No one is around." She said, trying to assure you with her small science.

"The Dregs won't interrupt us while we're in here," Kaz spoke, for a second you thought you saw curiosity in his eyes.

"Just-" You took a shaky breath, you hadn't shown anyone your powers since Wylan. Only using them in hiding to avoid growing weak. For the longest time, your mother scolded you for using your powers, teaching you the dangers of summoning anywhere that wasn't in private.

"Never tell anyone," She would mumble, wrapping you in her arms as you both curled up on the small bed in your room in the servants quarters of the Van Eck Mansion, "Your powers are your gifts, but they are your crimes too, Milaya. If anyone finds out they will punish you."

You broke the rules she set out only once, with Wylan. Were you ready to risk your comfortable life for these people you just met?

"It's hard to explain," You leant back against the booth, twisting your fingers nervously, "It's easier to show."

Kaz gestured impatiently, waiting for you to show them.

"Wylan said your Etherealnik," Jesper said flippantly, "We have a heartrender," He gestured loosely to Nina, "A wonderful durast," He grinned and gestured to himself, "About time we add an Etherealnik.”

You smiled, "Well if you're so sure."

You pressed your palms together, pausing for a second and then pulling them apart. Twisting your hands in opposite directions, your fingers moved independently to call the shadows to you. For a fleeting moment, it was like the world was losing colour, and then darkness was gathering around your hands, amassing between your palms.

You heard Nina gasp but ignored her to focus on your shadows. They reached out in tendrils, spreading up your arms as they tried to block the light from you. You pressed your hands back together, and the shadows expanded quickly and overcame the room, plunging space into pitch black. As soon as the darkness overcame the room, you called it off. Returning the room to its usual light.

Once the room was back to what it was before, you glanced around at the faces of the Crows. Wylan had the same impressed smile he had all those years ago, forever in awe of your powers. Nina was staring wide-eyed at the table, a slightly unreadable look on her face. Jesper's jaw was slack, mouth agape and blinking rapidly.

You were surprised to see Kaz wasn't at all shocked. He had the slightest smirk, not an ounce of fear or hesitation on his features.

"Those skills," He said with the same smirk, "are definitely of use."

Getting into the Hellshow hadn't been an issue. You and Nina had gotten on a boat and calmy taken seats towards the back of the crowd. Nina had to keep her face somewhat hidden, deciding on tailoring herself slightly to avoid Pekka's gaze. She had told you briefly about the last time she was here, trying to deliver the pardon Nikolai Lanstov convinced the Kerch government to write. She had been thrown out on Pekkas orders, pardon ignored. She was forced to leave not knowing how Matthias was.

You felt bad for her, it was hard to be separated from those you loved. Not that you ever had anyone other than your mother, but when she died you would have done anything to bring her back.

"So," You turned to Nina, squished up against her to avoid being too close to the drunken men beside you, "What exactly is the hellshow?"

Nina's brow furrowed in disgust, "The prisoners fight for better living conditions, food, a visit from family. It's barbaric."

She was looking over the crowd, eyes filled with silent fury. You followed her gaze to where a bearded man sat surrounded by burly prisoners. She pointed him out, "Rollins." Her voice held a hatred you hadn't thought possible of her.

You had stopped Kaz the night before, asking him what you were thinking again now, "Why don't we just kill this Pekka Rollins?"

Kaz had given you an annoyed look - although almost all of his looks were annoyed. He gave you no answer, but Jesper had filled you in on how Kaz had something personal against Rollins, something about Rollins running a con that lead to his brother's death. The specifics he didn't know. Kaz was a mystery, even to those that he seemed closest with. He seemed to like it that way. In the week it took for you all to plan the heist, you had learnt very few things about the bastard of the barrel.

Almost immediately you noticed how well he kept his thoughts and emotions hidden. At first, you had jokingly declared you would hate to play cards against him and Jesper confirmed he yet to win against his boss. Then you started to admire him, the calculated look in his eyes and the strength he projected made him the force The Barrel knew him as. Every now and again you could see a crack in his resolve. The way a corner of his mouth would quirk up for a fleeting second when Jesper made a particularly terrible joke. The quick flash of a solemn emotion - regret? pain? - when he was accused of being heartless by Nina or Per Haskell.

The other thing you noticed was entirely by mistake. It was obvious how Kaz was never without his gloves, it was the first thing you noticed about him. You didn't need to know why, everyone had their cruxes. You kept your own hidden, you assumed he did too. Then you noticed how he kept himself away from others. He never stood too close or flinched away from others' touch. You noticed it quickly and adjusted, trying to respect his boundaries. To you, it was the least you could do after what he had done for you.

You didn't think the boy had noticed, but he had. Kaz had been interested in your mysterious nature too. You kept hidden well, he hadn't expected you to shadow summon even though Wylan had warned him you were uniquely talented. He had to make assumptions about you, you looked quiet and well-mannered. But he had been surprised to learn you were anything but. You spoke your mind with little regard for manners or etiquette. Kaz grew to admire it. Not many people argued with Dirtyhands, or offered different plans from his own, but you were constantly challenging his ideas and in many ways, making them better.

Kaz couldn't, however, find your crux. It infuriated him, he found himself watching you and trying to learn more. That infuriated him more.

He could see you seated in the bleachers now, but you couldn't see him. He had slipped into the arena unnoticed by Pekkas men, hiding away from their gazes.

The plan was set in motion when Wylan and Jesper made their first move. You and Nina would then find Matthias' cell and Kaz would lead Jesper and Wylan to you. The plan was to break him out of the cells and smuggle him hidden in your darkness. Nina had told you how Matthias had been unlearning Druskelle's ideas, but he still might be hostile towards you. It made you nervous, using your power in public for the first time with the risk of Matthias messing you up. It was a considerable risk. Nina had tried to reassure you she would prevent him from interfering.

There was a far-off rumbling, then a muffled boom. You and Nina pretended to be startled like the other patrons, adding to the panic as fog started to fill the arena. As the crowd panicked and headed for the exits, you subtly summoned your shadows to extinguish the lamps around the room. The darkness drew more panic. You and Nina used it to slip past the crowds and into the hallway leading to the cells.

You almost stabbed Jesper as he came barreling around the corner in his guard's uniform. He reeled back, hands over his chest in surprise as the sudden blade.

"Saints," You swore, pocketing the knife and reaching to steady the boy, "I thought you would be slower."

“Change in plans,” Kaz said with no further explanation, "Wylan's bombs will distract the guards for a time. We need to find the frejdan quickly."

You nodded, resuming your position and following Nina as she searched for Matthias' heart. Occasionally you would clasp your hand around her wrist - a gesture not missed by Kaz. Nina had figured out quickly you were an amplifier, allowing you to help her search more efficiently. She hadn't told anyone else, because she knew what it meant. A shadow summoner who was also an amplifier? It was undisguisable the relation there.

Your group halted at a large bolted door, Nina mumbled out how she was sure Matthias was in a room beyond.

"What about guards?" Wylan spoke quietly, half hidden by Jesper, who had his pistol in hand. Wylan was in a guard's uniform too, but it looked much bigger on him, giving him an almost adolescent look.

Nina paused, "Three."

You turned to Kaz, watching him as ideas turned around in his mind.

"Wait-" Nina spoke again, crossing her hands together, "There's more than just guards."

"How do you mean?' You pressed.

"There are men in the main space," She explained, "Prisoners perhaps?"

"Rollins." Kaz hissed. None of you could know for sure, but it seemed likely. This changed everything, you had all been operating under the assumption that the prisoners were locked in their cells during security breaches. At least, that had been what Kaz's inside source had told.

"Jesper and I should go in," You said, offering a plan before Kaz could, "I can hide us, Jesper can open the door and-"

"No," Kaz interrupted. You were taken aback, he didn't even let you finish.

"Matthias doesn't know you," Nina said desperately, her voice slightly louder than the whispers in which you had all been conversing. "He won't go with you."

You shook your head in frustration, "I can't hide all of us. Even if I could, we don't have a plan.”

"Everyone stop talking," Kaz snapped, his brows pulled together in concentration.

You bit back a smart remark, it wouldn't do any good now anyway.

"Nina, Jesper," Kaz started, "You take Wylan and create a distraction, explosion or whatever." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch, gesturing for Wylan to bring out his own, "When the minute clock is on the 8, something big that ensures we can slip out. Then you go back to Ketterdam, as quickly as possible."

That gave you all 25 minutes but meant Nina wouldn't see Matthias. Nina looked disheartened but waited for Kaz to finish.

"Y/N and I will get Helvar. We'll use the distraction to get out, and meet you back at the Slat."

"How will we get Matthias out of a locked cell?" You hissed.

Kaz fished something out of his pocket, opening his palm to show you the small silver lock pick.

"Of course," You sighed dramatically, "I should have known you know how to pick locks."

Kaz gave you an amused smile and a look that read, Do you even know me?

Nina reached up to her neck, unclasping a necklace she always wore, "Give this to Matthias, so he knows you are with me."

You nodded, tucking the necklace in the pocket of your skirt to keep it safe.

Kaz sent the three away but not before Jesper worked his Durast science and unlocked the door.

You turned to Kaz, "I can hide us, block the light, but I can't disguise sound."

Kaz followed your gaze to his cane, nodding once in understanding.

You took a deep breath, it was now or never. Kaz pulled the door open as quietly as possible, watching your face contort in effort as you called shadows to you to surround the both of you.

You turned to Kaz before stepping into the room, "You'll have to stay close."

You didn't wait for his response, just took a dubious step into the room and pressed against the wall. Nina had said Matthias was in the 5th door on the left, but once you had entered you realized just how open the space was.

The fifth door was in the middle of the circular space, the only cover would be from Pillars of stone that held the roof up. You spared a glance at Kaz, who was standing mere centimetres away from you on your back, his cane held firmly in his grasp off the ground. Standing so close to him felt different, you hadn't expected him to be so cold. It was like he was drawing your heat away from you, which you welcomed. You were always too warm, something about the effort of summoning made you overheat easily. Your mother used to say your skin always felt feverish. Now for the first time, you felt balanced.

Kaz felt it too. How heat rolled off of you in waves. Being so close to you warmed him, which seemed impossible. He hadn't felt warmth since he was a boy, since before the Queen Lady’s Plague. You sensed his unease, looking at him and offering the smallest of apologies, your voice so quiet he hardly heard it.

He nodded for you to continue, trying not to get caught up in the feeling of being close to you. You both counted the doors as you inched along, stopping as you reached the fifth door. Kaz slowly bent down, and you spotted a flash of pain as he moved his leg. He faced the lock and started working while you stood beside him watching the courtyard.

Nina was right, there were more than three men in the room. At least eight were seated around a makeshift table, sitting on the table itself was one Pekka Rollins. You could hear the vulgar conversation he was keeping, it made you think about how much Kaz hated him. You startled when there was a soft clang, the noise echoing off the cobble walls. You turned to look at Kaz, who was silently cursing himself and staring at the lockpick resting on the floor.

"What was that?" A rough voice groused.

Rollins climbed up from his seat, he took a few slow steps towards where you were hidden in the shadows. The lanterns on the walls weren't lit, you had made sure to block the one that was nearby on a pillar to avoid any obvious shadows. Rollins was staring into the darkness like he could see you, it made you so nervous you could feel your heart beating out of your chest.

Rollins snatched a lantern from the table, holding it up and taking a few more slow steps. You tried to step back slightly but only nudged Kaz. If he noticed, he didn't react, still working on the lock. As Pekka drew closer, the lock clicked open, allowing Kaz to push the door open. He blindly reached out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the cell, and shutting the door behind you as quietly as possible. Almost as quickly as he had held your wrist, he let go, stepping away as you held your palms facing up to draw the shadows back into the room to avoid Rollin's suspicions.

Thankfully, it was only Matthias in the cell. He had stirred from sleep at the sounds of footsteps, when he opened his eyes you stumbled around Kaz to shove your hands over Matthias' mouth to stop any words from coming out. The Frejdan made a disgruntled noise, sleep leaving his eyes and his hands locking onto your wrists with a deathly tight grip.

"You alive in there, Helvar?" Rollin's accent gave way to his chuckle, he kicked the door, causing it to rattle and groan.

You and Kaz stared at Matthias, urging him to keep his mouth shut. With any luck, Pekka would leave and chalk it up to the sleepy groans of a prisoner. You should have known luck was not on your side.

"Helvar," Rollins barked, this time bringing his fist against the door.

You pulled your hands away from the druskelle. Mouthing "Please" to him.

"Leave me be," The Frejdan spoke hoarsely.

Rollins let out an ugly chuckle from the other side of the door but after another few tense moments, you heard footsteps moving away.

You stepped back, accidentally bumping into Kaz in the cramped space. Matthias moved from the cot, fixing you and Kaz with a dirty glare that made you even more nervous.

"Who are you?"

"We're friends of Nina," You tried to explain, beating Kaz to speak because you knew he would only escalate the situation.

Matthias' face turned sourer, within a blink of an eye he was moving. You had no time to react as he grabbed you and pushed you against the wall, his forearm pressing against your throat. He put enough pressure to limit your air, like he was trying to warn you, not to hurt you. You quickly touched your hands together and reached out to summon. Matthias grabbed your wrist and slammed it against the wall. It made a sick crack, pain blooming through your wrist and hand. You let out a string of curses, biting your tongue to avoid being too loud.

Kaz used the crow end of his cane to press against Matthias' neck, "I suggest you let go, Helvar."

Matthias let out a soft growl as he spoke, "Who are you?"

His accent was so pronounced, every word he spoke in Kerch was thick with the Frejdan accent he would never be rid of.

"Friends of Nina," You insisted, "In my left pocket, Nina gave me her necklace."

Matthias loosed his grip slightly, looking from your face to your skirt's pockets. He let go of your wrist, but you daren't move it. He slowly fished out the necklace, holding it up to study the delicate chain. He slowly moved his forearm off of you, stepping back and staring at you with wide eyes.

As soon as he was the step back, you pulled your wrist to your chest. Kaz's eyes flickered from you to the giant Frejdan in the middle of you.

"Can you..?"

You shook your head, "Maybe," you pulled your wrist away from your chest and flexed your fingers. Pain shot up your arm, causing your face to twist in a grimace.

"You are..." Matthias paused, "...Grisha."

You nodded, "I was our ticket out of here."

Kaz scowled at the Frejdan, something about his look made you think he might leave the Drüskelle here after all.

"I'll make it work," You said, pushing the pain to the back of your mind to continue with the job.

Kaz looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. He tried to move over as much as he could letting you shuffle past and stand in front of the door.

You turned to look at the druskelle, "Don't make any noises, they will hear it."

Matthias' brows pinched together, he looked to Kaz for an explanation but the boy just ordered him to stay close.

You took a deep breath, forcing your broken hand to open so that you could summon. Moving your fingers was hard, they were reluctant to dance like usual when you summoned. You pressed past it, drawing the shadows to conceal your group, opening the door slowly and sneaking out. Kaz and Matthias stayed close behind you, following you all around the room back to the exit. As you solely opened the door, a far-off bell started to sound.

"Jesper," Kaz said quietly.

You nodded, quietly slipping into the corridor and ushering Kaz and Matthias in too. You dropped the shadows once the door closed, ignoring the incredulous stare Matthias was giving you. Kaz led the way back through the corridors and winding hallways, leaning heavily on his cane as he walked. You knew that the time he had spent off it must have caused him pain, you felt bad that the plan had gone so terribly wrong.

Kaz seemed to always have a backup plan because he led you and Matthias out of Helgate like a man on a mission. You stumbled along behind him, keeping your wrist held to your chest. Kaz led you and Matthias down a stairway, the door at the end lead into the night air. You were surprised to find a small balcony, a rotten wooden platform perched on the rocks. The saltwater had eroded away the wood on the front, making it creak and flake dangerously under your feet. Kaz made quick work of slipping down the platform and onto the rocks, he pressed his palm against the wall to steady himself. He turned back to you and Matthias waiting impatiently for you both to follow him. Matthias went first, stepping down easily, making the drop look like a small step. You tried to step down with some sense of balance, but your foot found a slippery rock and you tripped forward. You hit into Kaz, who steadied you with a hand to your bad arm. You hissed and recoiled, watching Kaz's face change.

"Sorry," You whispered, noticing how he swallowed thickly, panic barely contained in his eyes.

Kaz took a moment, looking at your genuine expression. He knew that you knew, but you made no move to ask about it his weakness. For that, he was grateful.

Kaz pushed out of his haunted thoughts, turning and leading the way across the rocks and around the outside of Hellgate. You had been walking for ten minutes when the rocks started to mix with chunks of rubble. Walking on the rocks with the rubble moving underneath your feet became harder. You all slowed down and clung to the wall for the extra support it gave.

"Saints," You murmured when you came across the gaping hole in the wall made by Wylans explosives.

"Wylan knows what he's doing," Kaz quipped, slight amusement in his tone.

It took your small group at least two hours to get back to the Slat. The majority of that time was spent in a tiny row boat getting sloshed by freezing water. You were sat next to Kaz while Matthias rowed, you had offered your help but he had huffed in Frejdan something that seemed like 'I can do it myself'.

By the time you all had entered the Slat, there had been no one on the streets and you were freezing. Matthias seemed to be dealing with the cold best, no doubt his childhood in the icy Frejda had trained him well. You and Kaz were shivering as you stumbled along, all of you were damp from your trip on the sea. Your skirts were soaked, making them heavier and heavier as you walked.

Stepping into the Slat would usually warm you up, but this time it didn't. You could see Wylan and Jesper sitting at the bar, watching Nina pace up and down. They all snapped to look at you when the door slammed shut behind you. Nina let out a tiny squeal, running and throwing herself into Matthias' arms. You and Kaz looked on briefly before stumbling further into the room.

"Saints," Jesper looked both of you up and down, "We thought maybe you'd died."

You let out a chuckle, "You can't kill weeds."

Kaz looked at you surprised and you offered him a smile.

"What happened?" Wylan asked, watching Nina and Matthias approach arm in arm.

Kaz fixed Matthias with a glare, "Your oaf broke Y/N's wrist."

Nina looked from Matthias to you, then stepped forward to assess your wrist. You offered her your hand without complaint, letting her heal it the little she could.

"It was a mistake," You defended Matthias, mostly from Kaz's dark stare.

Later that night, which had turned more to early morning, you sought out Kaz in his room. You had changed into dry clothes, your wrist wrapped to keep it steady until morning when you would find a healer. You walked up to Kaz's door, then hesitated. What if he was asleep?

You knocked anyway, gently so as to not startle him.

"Yes?"

You pushed the door open, stepping into the room slightly. Kaz didn't even turn from his perch at his desk to look at you.

"I- uh," Your voice came out much quieter than you were expecting, almost sounding broken.

Kaz stopped scribbling on the paper on front of him.

"I just wanted to ask," You spoke clearer this time, "If you were okay?"

Kaz turned to look at you this time, surprised. After a few days with the bastard of the barrel, you had gotten better at reading his subtle emotions. Even the ones he tried to hide deep in his eyes. Like the anxiety when you touched him, or again on the boat.

Kaz didn't answer, he didn't have to.

"You don't have to answer," You said after a moment of silence passed, "Everyone has their..." You searched for the right word.

"Weaknesses," Kaz said.

"Weaknesses." You agreed.

You took a small step forward, testing the waters. Kaz didn't tell you to back off or look fearful.

"We all have them," You continued.

Kaz nodded once, "And you?"

You smiled, "Dirtyhands doesn't know?"

Kaz looked away and sighed in exasperation.

You stepped closer, approaching the desk, "It's this."

You summoned your shadows, forming them into a small tangled shape in your palm. The shadows reached up your arm, trying to tangle their way around you. You dismissed them, staring at the empty space above your palm.

Kaz thought about how wrong you were.

"If you ever need to share," You took a step back, "I'll be here."

You left him at his desk, exiting the room and closing the door behind you. Maybe it would take some time, but you were willing to wait if it meant becoming someone Kaz Brekker could rely on.

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storiesfromafan · 9 months ago

Text

The Waltz

A/N: yes I am back with Part 3 (Dance Class 101 and Beautiful Swan). I have to say I've enjoyed writing this small series, and have enjoyed the comments.

I also want to thank everyone who has followed this story blog, I cant believe I have got 326 followers!!

Also, don't hesitate to request stories. Sometimes it helps with my writing block lol.

@littlebookbengal @bewitchingbrie @anehkael -unfortunatly I couldnt take a few people :(

The Waltz

The booming voice of Professor Dumbledore in welcoming all to The Yule Ball. Gathering with other couples, you and Lorenzo watched the Professor with everyone else. Dumbledore spoke about the ball and how it was a tradition that is kept up to bring Hogwarts, Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute together. And it did bring you all together. Besides most of the males of Hogwarts being intimidated of the male’s students from Drumstrang, the female students from Beauxbatons had taken to the females of Hogwarts.

Once Dumbledore was finished, he introduced each of the school’s champions. They all entered in a line, before coming to stop in the open space of the dance floor. They opened The Yule Ball with the first dance for the night. You and Lorenzo sniggered at Harry Potter and his date, the only couple to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Looks like old mate has two left feet” commented your friend.

You snort laughed. “Don’t be so mean Enzo” you hit his arm softly.

You both went back to watching as your professor’s joined in. Of course, Snape and the female professor, who had been your dancing instructors, paired up and took to the floor. You and Lorenzo held it together as best you could. The female professor still looked like she wanted to run for the hills, while Snape was as rigid as ever. Only now the rest of the students got to bare witness to what the Slytherin students had been privy to for two weeks. You heard the whispers and the sniggers at Snape’s expense.

Once the dance was over, Snape left the dance floor in a sweep of his cloak, his dance partner moving off in the opposite direction. The champions all took their leave of the floor, while other students braved the dance floor.

Lorenzo shot you a smirk before taking your hand and dragging you to the floor. All the while you softly protested, which he chose to ignore. Coming to a spot on the floor, Lorenzo stopped and swiftly turned to face you. You on the other hand, staggered for a moment from his motions. But quickly you corrected yourself, standing tall shooting your date a glare.

The live band started up with the perfect melody for the dance you were all about to partake in, The Foxtrot. It was the second dance Snape taught Slytherin, it was easier to learn then The Waltz. Which made you wonder why he hadn’t started with that dance. Oh well, you had learned the steps in the end.

“Ready?” Asked Lorenzo.

You continued to glare. “No”.

He chuckled. “Well, you better get ready”.

And with that you both began to move along with the music, Lorenzo leading you around the floor in a medium tempo. At first your steps were unsure and a little sloppy, but after a little bit, you got comfortable and confident in your steps. And before long you and Lorenzo were moving smoothly around the floor. Lorenzo shot you a knowing smile, which you rolled your eyes at but none the less you sported a beaming smile.

Like the other students, Mattheo and Daphne watched on. Mattheo’s gaze following your every movement. He felt jealousy rise as he watched Lorenzo smile at you, to which you rolled your eyes but gave him a happy smile. That should have been him out there with you. Smiling at each other and laughing. But instead, it was his good friend with you.

“Who would have thought Enzo would pity (Y/N/N) enough to be her date?” Remarked Theodore as he came to stand next to Mattheo.

“I don’t think it was pity” retorted Mattheo. “He did it out of friendship. Enzo cared about her to give her a good night”.

Theodore shot his friend a bored look. “Whatever, he was the idiot to give up a night with any willing girl. What to ditch and hang out somewhere else?”

Feeling appalled by his mate’s words, Mattheo got serious. “He’s not an idiot. Enzo chose a friend over some conquest. He always cares about a person’s wellbeing”.

Theodore laughed with a hand up. “Alright, alright. Don’t need to get your knickers in a knot. It’s fine they came together, happy?”

Mattheo huffed turning back to you on the dance floor. He could see Theodore looking at him, then to you and Lorenzo, and then back to him. A look of recognition flashed on his face before he chuckled.

“How did I miss it” he mused, “how did I miss your crush on (Y/N/N)?”

Mattheo looked shock, looking to his date, who was busy chatting with Theodore’s date. He then turned to his friend and said in a lower voice, “you’re wrong. I don’t have a crush on (Y/N/N)”.

Theodore laughed. “Lie all you like mate, I can see it plain as day now. And quite frankly, it took you long enough”.

Mattheo shot his friend a confused look.

Theodore laughed hard. “Wow, come on I’ve known you a long time. I could see how close you and (Y/N/N)’s had gotten. I just thought you’d had worked it out by now. Both Lorenzo and I could see how you both were crushing on each other, even have a bet going on who would confess first”.

Shock and surprise crossed Mattheo’s face. You, crushing on him? No surely, they were mistaken. Not once had you ever shown any interest in him in that way. You never flirted, never dropped hints, never jealous of other girls. You had always seemed uncaring and uninterested.

“You’re wrong” Mattheo began, “(Y/N/N) doesn’t have a crush on me. She’s never shown signs of liking me like that”.

Once more Theodore laughed. “Oh, my friend how wrong you are. That beautiful creature out there” – he pointed in the direction of you on the dance floor – “does have a crush on you. And just because you haven’t seen the signs, I can assure you that Enzo and I have”.

Mattheo shook his head, not once taking his eyes off you.

“I can tell you firsthand that the look in her (colour) eyes when you would bring your latest conquest around the group, the evident hurt in those eyes as she watches you together. Or how she would ‘off handedly’ help you study, when really, she wanted to be near you. Probably hoped you would read between the lines of all her help to see that she did like you more than a friend. You my friend have been oblivious to how she show’s her feelings, as you are used to girls throwing themselves at you”.

If Theodore was right, then Mattheo had made a mistake, a big one. If he had been able to read you better, then he wouldn’t have had a reason to hold back his feelings. It would have been he who had escorted you to The Yule Ball. It would be him out there dancing with you, smiling and laughing.

Theodore clapped Mattheo on the back. “If I was you, I’d come up with a plan to get to (Y/N/N) and sweep her off her feet. Or else she might fall for Enzo instead”.

With that Theodore took his date and left Mattheo to his thoughts. Daphne brought him back when she asked when they would dance. He winced at the idea; his poor feet would hate him if he danced with her. Dancing, that was it. With a few words to Daphne that they would dance soon, the cogs in Mattheo’s head were turning, a plan coming together.

The song came to an end, you and Lorenzo stepped back from each other before bowing and curtsying to the other. Coming to fully stand once more, you both shot the other a warm smile. Lorenzo then took your arm before leading you from the dance floor, and over to a space by the wall. You both took the moment to cool off.

“I had my reserves about dancing but thank you for dragging me against my will. It was fun”.

He laughed. “You are welcome, any time I would happily drag you to dance”. Lorenzo winked at you, making you laugh.

Lorenzo smile at you before his attentions turned elsewhere. “How about I get us some drinks. I’ll be right back”.

Before you could say a word, your friend walked off, leaving you a little confused but looking forward to some refreshments. You decided to lean against the wall, hands resting behind your back and against the cool stone wall. It was grounding, the coolness against your warm flesh. Your eyes roamed over the room. You noticed couples and groups in conversation. Those on the dance floor that were strong dancers compared to those that were trying their best.

Finally, you spotted Lorenzo with drinks in hand, but it was the person walking next to him that he was in deep conversation with that made you stand up straight. He was talking with Mattheo, and they looked to be quite serious. But just as quick had you seen them, did Mattheo part from your date. What had they been discussing, you wondered.

Joining you once more, Lorenzo held out a cup with punch in it, you accepted the cup and took a gracious sip. Once the cup left your lips you turned your gaze back to your date, studying him. You wanted to question him, find out what led to their talking or what Mattheo had to say. So, you decided to just go for it.

“What did Mattheo want?”

“Hm?” Lorenzo asked before taking a sip from his cup.

“I saw you two talking before you came back with my drink. What did he want?” It might have sounded rude, but you were dying to know. Though it went against your not caring mantra for the night.

“Mattheo? Oh, he was just commenting on the dancing. Thought we looked good” Lorenzo said off handedly turning to watch those on the dance floor, while leaning against the wall.

“Oh really? Is that so?” You questioned further.

“Mmhmm, said you looked graceful. And had a glow about you. Which he’s not wrong about” he laughed.

You nudged his shoulder with your own. You left it that. Your heart swelled at Lorenzo’s words. Mattheo had complimented you. You felt the soft smile form on your lips at the compliment. But then reality set in. You were at the ball with Lorenzo, not Mattheo. He had chosen to take Daphne Greengrass and was probably having a wonderful time. He was probably being nice with his compliment. Possibly a ploy to get back in your good graces. The smile slipped from your face, the hallow feeling returning to your chest in realisation.

Silence rolled over you both as you continued to watch those around you and on the dance floor. Soon time slowly passed before Lorenzo moved from the wall, taking your empty cups, and setting them down on a table off to the side. He shot you a bright smile before holding out his hand to you.

“May I have the next dance my lady?”

You laughed. “Why yes good sir, for this time you did ask me”. And placed your hand in his.

Lorenzo led you to stand with those spectating the dancing students. You both stood there waiting for the current dance to end, so that you both could join the next dance. With the final notes of the song, the students on the floor stopped, bowed, and curtseyed to each other before vacating the dance floor. Sharing a look, you and your friend took to the floor, along with four other couples. Standing before your partner, it was the movement from the left side that caught your attention.

Making their last-minute appearance on the floor, both Mattheo and Daphne moved over to stand on your right side. You felt your body stiffen at the sight of them, a sight you had done best to stay clear of. But here they were, shoving it front of you. With the first few notes, you placed your left hand on Lorenzo’s right shoulder while his right hand was placed against your side, his left-hand taking hold of your right hand. Now you were ready to begin The Waltz.

Just like in dance class, Lorenzo led while you followed. You both followed the steps, graceful in your movements on the dance floor. Out the corner of your eye you would see Mattheo and Daphne, your heart sinking further from it. Moving to hold your head high you reminded yourself to not care about them. You didn’t need him.

Lorenzo shot you a warm smile, that you returned. “Forgive me or thank me later”.

You shot him a look of confusion before finishing the square, he then proceeded to turn you out before letting go of your hand. You wanted to protest to whatever he was doing, but the feeling of a hand taking hold of your own and spun you in to face the one person you were trying to forget. Mattheo moved you into position, without a thought you moved your left hand to his shoulder. Confusion written all over your face at what was happening.

Your gazed moved back to your original dance partner, who was now dancing with a confused and irritated Daphne Greengrass. Lorenzo looked to be talking to her, possibly an attempt to calm down the girl. You looked back to Mattheo, who wore a mischievous grin on his face. All the while you both moved in time with the music, steps just as graceful as you had been dancing with Lorenzo.

“What is going on?” You questioned with a sharp tone. “Why am I dancing with you?”

Mattheo chuckled. “I thought we should dance, and since you aren’t talking to me. I got Lorenzo to help me get my dance”.

You glared at the boy before you. “You had no right to swap me from my date”.

“Oh? I think Enzo didn’t mind” he retorted.

“Well, I mind. Not that you care”.

The look of hurt in Mattheo’s eyes at your words wounded you. Any time he was upset hurt you, and the need to cheer him up would kick in. But not this time. You were still hurting from what he has done. Mattheo needed to learn a lesson.

He sighed. “I’m sorry for stealing you away. But you have to admit you have avoided me. You aren’t talking to me”.

“And there’s a reason for that” you fired back looking him right in the eyes. “Until you work out what you done and what you need to do to fix it, I will continue to not talk to you”.

Silence rolled over you both after that. You had said what you had too. Mattheo knew exactly what you were talking about. He knew he had to step up and apologise, which is what he wants to do. He just wasn’t sure how to do it. He was worried he wouldn’t say the right words, and it would only make things worse.

You both continued to move in time with the music, fluid movements filling the remaining time with Mattheo. Without talking you took in the boy before you, now that you have a closer opportunity. Since arriving at the ball, his hair was now messy. Mattheo must have absented mindedly ran his hand through his brown curly locks, something he done when in thought. He had also loosened the tie around his neck, and the jacket of his dress robes unbuttoned. You could have laughed at the untidy appearance, but held it in.

As the song started its descent to an end, you both moved in a square one more time. Only the grip Mattheo held tightened, almost drawing you closer. Mattheo moved his left foot forward, as you stepped back on your right. He then moved his right foot forward, while you moved your left foot backwards. Then you both moved those feet to the side, before bringing their partnering feet to meet with them. Mattheo then led you as be moved his right foot back, as you moved your left foot forward. Then he moved his left foot backwards, while you brought your right foot forward, both moving them to the side and then closing with its partnering feet. Thus, completing the square.

Reluctantly Mattheo loosens his hold on you, as he stepped back. You step back from his hold, your hands coming to rest at your sides. Looking each other in the eyes, you see something unfamiliar flash in his eyes. But he bows to you, cutting eye contact. In a daze of mixed emotions, you curtsy back.

With reality coming back, you felt like there was no air in the room. Standing back up you try to take a deep breath but struggled. Feeling a panic rising in you, you gather up your skirt and quickly move from the dance floor and out of The Great Hall. It was all too much. You would rather have kept Mattheo at arm’s length.

That’s funny, as you just did. Your mind taughtened you. For you had just been dancing at arm’s length.

Exiting into a courtyard not far from The Great Hall, you held your head in your hands while taking a deep breath of cold fresh air. Releasing it slowly, you tried to work out what just happened. Your heart ached with a mix of happy and sad. Your mind a mess from all that has happened so far tonight. The one thing ringing in your mind was Mattheo, the one person who hurts you so much. Even if it was unintentionally.

“Bloody hell!” Huffed an all too familiar voice. “Why did you take off (Y/N/N)?!”

Mattheo had been oblivious of your leaving the dance floor till Lorenzo called out to him. Upon seeing your form missing before him, Lorenzo pointed in the direction you had taken off. And he took off in chase, not second guessing the choice to follow you. He heard Daphne call his name, but no doubt Lorenzo stopped her and would entertain her a little longer. All Mattheo worried about was you.

He watched you quickly walk before him; he did call out to you, but you ignored him. Coming to the entrance to the courtyard, he was greeted with the sight of you, standing with your back to him with hands on your head while looking up breathing slowly. Something told him it was some level of anxiety that had you making an escape. But he couldn’t help huffing out what he said to you.

“Matty…” you sighed. “Please, leave me be. Go back to the ball” you practically pleaded. It broke his heart.

“Talk to me” he took a step closer before stopping himself.

You laughed at his words. “There is nothing to talk about…not until you work out what you did”.

“I know what I did…” he said softly. “I’ve known since it happened”.

Your hands dropped from your head, slowly you turned around to face him with a hurt look upon your face. It hurt him to see you like this, it felt like that hurt was more than just from the other week’s hang out. You didn’t say anything, waiting for the boy before you to continue.

Mattheo took a deep breath, readying himself. “What Theodore said to you, how…pathetic” – he struggled to get the word out – “people would think you were if you didn’t have a date. And I am so sorry for agreeing with him”.

“Why did you agree with him then?” You questioned, guarding yourself to try and save yourself.

Mindlessly Mattheo ran a hand through his curls. “I was stupid. I didn’t want Theodore to turn his sights on me, teasing and running me down. But I hurt you instead. The one person who I hold close”.

The one person who I hold close… You felt warmth rise in you, but you told yourself it was because you were friends. That is all.

“Don’t say that” you pleaded, “don’t say you hold me close. It only gets my hopes up” you said softly, tears pricking your eyes.

Without a thought, Mattheo crossed over to stand before you. He wrapped his hands around your upper arms softly, subconsciously making sure you wouldn’t run from him again. Concern washed over his face as he looked you in the eyes. Everything Theodore said coming back to him.

“You are the one person I hold close (Y/N), you are the only person to be there for me. To help me study, to check on my mental state, to kick my ass if I step out of line” he chuckled. “Don’t ever doubt how highly I think of you”.

You shook your head. “I’m not that good a person…”

“Yes, you are” he pulled you closer to him. “Why do you say you aren’t?”

This was it, the moment of make or break.

“My intentions weren’t always innocent…” you started looking him deep in the eyes. “Sure, we are friends but over time things…changed. And I wanted more of your time”.

“Well, all you had to say was you wanted to spend more time with me” Mattheo butted in.

You shook your head. “Not like that…I saw how you were with other girls. Flirting and being your charming self. I was jealous of them. Then you would bring them around the group, lessening my time with you because you were focused on them”.

Mattheo swallowed. Hating to hear how you felt. Knowing he only did it to distract himself from you.

“Then this ball happened. Stupid me hoping, wishing you would ask me. That’s why in the courtyard I hinted at going on my own. Again, hoping you would ask me. But you asked Daphne…I wasn’t going to come tonight, you know?”

Hearing how you hoped for him to ask you was like a punch to the gut, bringing the guilt he felt back full force. “I-I didn’t know…” Mattheo breathed, hands dropping from your arms in thought.

That movement hit you hard, making you think he was pulling back from you. That he didn’t care for you. You felt a tear escape and make its way down your face, feeling rejected. Your shoulders started to shake while you tried to hold back the tears. Mattheo looked to you, only to see you shake. Thinking you were cold; Mattheo quickly removed his jacket before wrapping it around your shoulders. He pulled the jacket tight in front of you, you looked to the boy in confusion. He on the other hand looked at you with worry and care. Silently he was waiting for you to continue.

“Yeah…well I wasn’t going too; Enzo didn’t even know. But when I spoke to him earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to say I was not going. I didn’t expect him to offer to be my date, but I am grateful he did. He has made tonight bearable”.

Jealousy flashed in Mattheo’s eyes. But they softened when he saw a tear escape your eye, your second tear, before bringing his hand up and gently wiped it away. Both of you looked at the other, savouring this moment. Mattheo moved to cup your cheek with his hand, without missing a beat you leant into the warmth, all the while never breaking eye contact. Without missing a beat, Mattheo leant in and tenderly kissed your lips.

The kiss was gentle, innocent. He noted how soft your lips were, and a tad cold from the night air. Reluctantly, he pulled back and observed your reaction. Shock evident on your adorable face.

“Forgive me (Y/N/N). Forgive me for flirting and entertaining other girls, for parading them around you. Forgive me for spending less time with you, and for agreeing with Theordore’s idiotic notions” Mattheo confessed and pleaded. “And, most of all, forgive me for not being your date tonight. As I would have rather spent my night with you, then anybody else”.

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that him or his words weren’t genuine. But all you saw was sadness, begging and hope. Not what you would usually see with the Slytherin heart throb. He was baring his all to you, and only you. So, you made your decision.

You raised up on your tippy toes, one hand grasping at Mattheo’s shirt, before you lent in to kiss him. As soon as your lips touched his, he knew you forgave him. No words were needed at this point. He leant down, releasing you from the uncomfortable position of standing on your tippy toes. Mattheo pressed his lips firmer to your own, but not enough it hurt. Soon he slowly pulled back, taking in the tender look upon your face, as you opened your eyes, that you don’t remember closing.

“I have liked you for years now” Mattheo said softly, afraid being too loud would burst this bubble around you both. “But I have been scared you didn’t like me, or it would ruin our friendship”.

You softly smiled at him, understanding how he felt. “I have liked you for years too…”

A bright smile formed on his sinful lips. “Then let us rectify it, what do you say?”

All you could do was nod your head. And once more Mattheo leant in and captured your lips, only this time it was a little more ungraceful. Which made you laugh. And to retaliate to your laughter did the boy before you poke your sides, making you squeal in dislike. Before long he was chasing you around the courtyard, you trying to escape his pokes and tickling. When he finally caught you, Mattheo spun you around before drawing you close.

That was the moment you knew you would have to thank Lorenzo. And it was the start of your personal relationship with Mattheo Riddle.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo

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noiriarti · 3 months ago

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The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 5

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, overstim? WC: 6.2k AN: hehehehe i have written something nefarious!!! requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, [Ch. 5], Ch. 6, Ch. 7

Chapter 5: Learning

Your knees were shaking as you unlocked the bathroom door. The metal handle was cold under your fingers, but your body was blazing hot, an inferno trapped inside a person. Only two people were left, one of whom was Barriss, so you smiled tightly and told her that, actually, you were gonna head home, that you fell asleep on a bench outside and it was time to turn in. You hoped she didn't smell the cum on your breath.

You almost forgot to pack your laptop, but slid it into your bag haphazardly at the last minute and managed to leave the room with a smidge of your dignity still intact. On unsteady legs, you walked over to the door of the building, resting your fingertips on the cool glass, just to steady yourself. Images of Anakin flashed in your mind. His yell as he shattered that wood. His desperate moans as he tried to keep it together before cumming last night. His hands buried in your hair, rough and unyielding. His strong legs under your hands as he fucked your throat. His smile when he woke up next to you.

All of them kept you unbelievably horny until Anakin joined you with the clicking of the lab door behind him. He'd probably made some similarly lame excuse to the others, but you could see the flush of his cheeks from earlier hadn't faded, even when he cast you a grin. If they knew to look for it, maybe the other students would have noticed the slightly heavy breathing or the looseness in his movement. But only you knew that about him, and it sent a thrill down you.

"Let's go home," he said, pausing in front of you, far closer than any friend would be. Your heart jumped again, and you could feel that he still made your knees weak, even after everything the two of you had done. There was no one in this area, and you took the risk to put your hand on his chest, then drag it slowly, almost imperceptibly, downward.

"Oh? What are we gonna do when we get there?" You pouted up at him. This was crazy, you thought. Two weeks ago, if someone had told you that you would be drooling, practically begging Anakin Skywalker to fuck you, you probably would have filed for a restraining order. Now, it was all you could do not to mount him in the middle of the lobby of the engineering building.

Anakin obviously enjoyed the way you teased him, based on his smirk and flaring eyes.

"Don't act innocent. We both know where your mouth was ten minutes ago." His voice was low, gruff, but it was like he'd lit you from within. Everything buzzed and tingled, and you couldn't wait to get home. God, how did he do this to you?

Anakin must have noticed, his eyes catching on your slightly open mouth. He grabbed the hand that had stopped its path somewhere around the top of his stomach, and took it in his. "Come on," he murmured, then turned around and started speedwalking out of the building. You followed him, in a trance, and somewhere around the second block of your walk home, you realized that your hand was still in his, and his thumb was rubbing over your knuckle and leaving fire under its wake.

You were holding hands. You hadn't even held hands while you fucked, or anything else really. The two of you weren't supposed to be like this, all romantic and sweet and hand-holdy. But there was nothing that would have ripped you away from him right now, horny or not. You'd give anything to solder your hands together like pins of a chip, intertwined eternally.

Fear curled in your stomach, and an image flashed in your mind. His face, crestfallen, his eyes pleading, begging fate to give him another chance. His prototype in his hands, delicate and made of hundreds of hours of his best ideas, but still not enough. The creamy paper of the certificate under your fingers on the hot lights of the stage. The thunderous applause of the audience, your classmates, as you looked out at the one person in the audience who mattered. The tears welling in his eyes, even though he tried to will them away by looking up and blinking as fast as he could. His cold look when he ignored you in class for the last six weeks of the semester.

The breath stalled in your chest, but you looked up at the Anakin in front of you now, walking home with his hand wrapped around yours. Strong, powerful, unbreakable. He'd get over it, right? Going home with him now surely couldn't make it any worse down the line, you tried to tell yourself.

You were quiet for the rest of the walk, but the ache between your legs didn't stop. No matter what you thought about the future, the current you wanted him more than anything. More than whatever fears you had that he'd never look at you again in three months' time. And, if that did happen, you wanted some memories to keep you warm while you got over him. (But what was there to get over? This wasn't anything more than some comfort between friends, right? You tried to quiet the racing voice in your mind.)

The front door of the building was there, and, as soon as you slipped into the elevator--not yours, the one on the other side of the entrance--Anakin was kissing you again. Your mind went quiet, and the only thing left was that you wanted him. You wanted him more than anything in your life. He was leaning, looming over you with his imposing figure, and kissing you like you were his oxygen. And, if you were being honest, right now, he was yours.

Your hands came up to his strong jaw as you tried to bring him closer and closer, but the elevator dinged, and he yanked away. Anakin really was strong, you realized when he almost dragged you down the empty hallway to his room.

It was your first time in his space, and you were shocked by how neat it was. You'd expected energy drink cans covering every surface, or maybe random devices and wires all over the floor, but it was like someone had taken special care cleaning up. Not a speck of dirt on the carpet, and the bed was made almost militantly. He had been planning to ask you over tonight, you realized. You started grinning like an idiot as he dropped his backpack by the door and threw his coat over it. You took yours off too, but with more care than he did.

His desk was the only sign of chaos, covered in old papers and sketches. There was a bucket in the corner of the room of what looked like shells of old Raspberry Pis, and a gleaming array of servers blinked in the darkness on his dresser. There was a picture there of a woman, kind-looking, older. She had his eyes, but her hair was darker, thicker. Their smiles were identical. That must be his mom, you thought. Somehow, this new window into his life made you want him even more, but in a different way. In a scary way.

The thoughts disappeared when you felt his warm lips on yours again and his arms wrapping around your waist. It never got old, even if you'd kissed plenty of times before. It was always new, exciting. He furiously pulled you closer to him, his fingers digging into your back. He was devouring you, his tongue lapping at your lips insistently. You met it with your own, and he groaned loudly before exploring your mouth further.

You stumbled backwards until you hit the desk, sending a few papers flying. Anakin detached from you, just for a second, and shoved the papers off like they'd affronted him personally. Immediately after the desk was clear, his hands came up on the back of your thighs. You both know what it meant. Jump, just like the first time in the lab, and you obliged, shimmying onto his desk until you were fully seated.

"Get your fucking clothes off. Right now," he ordered, already starting to peel off your shirt. You threw it off, then took off your shoes and socks, leaving them forgotten somewhere on the floor. He had already shrugged off his tee, and, forgoing any extra steps, yanked his pants and boxers down in one go. His cock bobbed up, already leaking and hard again. With a similar annoyance at the existence of clothing as a concept, he yanked down your leggings and underwear and tossed them aside, leaving you bare, panting, and looking up at him expectantly. You'd been waiting for so long, so desperately, that you could feel the slick had spread to the inside of your thighs.

He opened one of his desk drawers with his right hand, his eyes still fixed on your pussy, and fumbled around until he found a condom. He couldn't resist before opening it, and shot out one hand to gently smack your clit. You keened as sparks exploded across your body and made your back arch. You were sensitive. So sensitive, you wondered if you could cum with him inside you. He put his hand on your hip, and it was big enough that he could reach your clit with his thumb, rubbing small circles that made you produce gentle noises of pleasure.

Eventually, he gathered enough self-control to pull away and roll the condom onto his dick before stepping in between your spread legs. Taking his cock into his hand, he slapped your clit with it a few times, just to get a rise out of you. The contact, the pressure, was perfect, and with every slap, your hips twitched to chase the spongy head of his cock. He watched your desperate writhing and chuckled darkly. You knew what he wanted, and you were too far gone to try and stop yourself.

"Please, please, Anakin, I need you," you begged as you slid to the edge of the desk, trying to get closer to him, just enough to touch. You added another desperate, quiet please, and he gave in, slamming into you all the way.

Both of you let out ragged groans as his hips met yours, finally filling you to the brink. You'd been thinking about this for hours. The whole day, even. Then he pulled back and started fucking into you with an aggression you hadn't seen before. The previous time you'd fucked, he was energetic, sure, but he wasn't like this. This was wild, a remnant of how excited you both were from the way you'd blown him earlier. His thrusts wracked your frame, making you shake with each vicious jab into you. The smack of his hips into yours and the squelch of your wet pussy taking him was obscene, dirty.

Anakin's hands came to your knees, moving them so that your feet rested on the table. You were completely folded over, and you realized why when he pressed his hips to yours and rocked into you instead of thrusting, creating amazing friction from his skin on your clit. You threw your head back with an unrestrained groan of his name. He was out of breath, ragged and feverish, but he just kept going.

"Look how good you take it, baby," Anakin growled. "God, you feel amazing, so fucking wet for me." One of his hands found your hair and grabbed it while he hit a particularly tender spot inside you. Your scalp screamed, and so did you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Anakin, right there!" You could hardly recognize your hoarse voice as you begged him. "Harder, faster, please," you moaned. You could feel that coil of pleasure in your stomach that had been wound up for hours because of him getting tighter and tighter. He was moving so quickly, his eyes wild, feverish and desperate like an animal. His usual smile had faded, and you saw a sort of intensity you only noticed when he was angrily working. Like you were the only thing he wanted.

Each thrust pulled a grunt or curse as you started tightening around him. You were so close, only a few more thrusts until you'd finally feel relief, and you started shifting your hips up to meet him, just to get an extra bit of friction. Anything would be enough to push you over the edge. Anakin noticed your erratic thrusts upward and held your hips down to the desk. You hoped bruises were forming.

"Fuuuck, you're so needy. You're not gonna cum until I say," he ordered. You weren't sure if that was possible. Your pussy was twitching wildly, and your walls were fluttering around him. You bore down and clenched as hard as you could, but that bought you thirty seconds at best.

"I can't--please--I can't--" you started, trying to tell him that you were too close, and he quickly stopped panting to smirk, before slamming into you even faster. You were trying so hard to be good for him, to do what he asked, and your pussy was betraying you as it started barreling towards your orgasm. Your face scrunched into a grimace as you tried, in vain, to control it, and you counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten excruciating seconds before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him as he finally gave you permission.

"Cum on my dick--ughhh ffuck--Do it now. Cum for me," Anakin gritted out. As soon as he did, something inside you exploded, and you let out a howl as you finally came. Wave after wave hit you, and you went limp in his arms, like you were made of nothing but pleasure and loose limbs. Even though your eyes were squeezed shut, his face was all you could see in your mind, everything that mattered at that moment. Aftershocks made your head buzz, and he could feel you constrict around him.

"Shit, you're so good for me, baby," Anakin choked out between gasps, "So fucking perfect, fuck I'm--" And then you felt him twitch and jump inside you, thrusting in a couple of final times before he buried his face in the crook of your neck as he let out wild grunts of pleasure from his second orgasm of the day. Beneath him, you were boneless, thoroughly exhausted from everything the two of you had done that day.

After a few moments, you felt his strong arms lift you up to your feet, then help you over to the bed. You slowly started to catch your breath, splayed out on the soft sheets which smelled like a mix of clean, fresh laundry and him. You wanted to swim in it. Maybe if Anakin wasn't right there to see you do it and then make fun of you mercilessly after, you would have stuck your nose into the pillow.

You felt the springs of the shitty dorm mattress shift under you as Anakin joined you on the bed. You expected him to lay next to you, maybe spoon you if you were lucky. (If you were lucky? When did you start wanting that?)

Instead, you felt Anakin's fingers, still warm from your body, come to brush your thighs above the knee, tracing patterns. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. When his hand reached the crook where your leg met your pussy, it was entirely clear what he wanted. Stirrings of arousal started inside you again when the tip of his finger barely ghosted over your clit.

"You're not done. I came twice, you're gonna cum twice," Anakin said as he sank his finger inside you. You let out a high, keening moan, which turned more desperate when he lowered his hot, wet mouth onto your clit. He was merciless, driven, precise, repeatedly licking circles into your skin as he watched you squirm above him. Anakin was a quick study, based on his success in classes, but you didn't realize he was this quick of a study. Even based on just the first time he'd eaten you out, he was near-perfectly doing exactly what he knew would get you close. Last time, he had been tender, exploratory, but today, he was going directly for what he wanted. You were still sensitive from the way he'd slammed into you, and the finger inside you was stroking your walls gently, just to remind you it was there. Despite how tired your pussy was from everything he'd done to you, his pointed tongue directly where you needed it, sucking you and covering you in his spit, was enough to restart the tension in your stomach and light it on fire.

Your hand fumbled on the sheets, looking for him, his head, his hair, his shoulder, his anything, and instead his hand came to meet yours. You interlocked fingers, and you caught his eyes looking up at you tentatively. As if you'd pull away at any second. But you wouldn't, not by a long shot.

"Fuck, Anakin, I'm close," you moaned out, even though you were fairly certain he could tell, based on the little breath he huffed out when he felt your thighs clench. The idea that he knew you that well was enough to push you over the edge, gentle waves lapping at your core and spreading through your body. It was softer, weaker than the one before, but it was still enough to make your toes curl. The knuckles of your hand that was intertwined with his went white, and he gripped you back with equal intensity. Your moans floated through the room. You heard them as if they weren't even yours, just noises in your ears as you came on his tongue.

When your rhythmic clenches became softer, Anakin pulled his finger from you and came up to lay beside you. He squeezed the hand he was still holding to try and grab your attention when he saw you were still a bit dazed. Your eyes shot open and fixed on him. He was holding a water bottle, and helped you sit up so that you wouldn't spill.

"Drink some, baby," Anakin said, bringing the bottle to your lips as you took a couple tentative swallows. Sometime around the third mouthful of cool water slipping down your throat, you realized that he'd called you baby again, and that you hadn't flagged it as weird.

He pulled the water bottle away and took a couple of gulps. It was an oddly intimate gesture, drinking from the same water bottle, but it felt right. It felt natural. The way his Adam's apple bobbed would have made you feel something if you weren't so thoroughly spent, but you could at least ogle him a bit and save the image for later. A bit of water dribbled out of his mouth, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"Wanna watch some TV or Netflix or something? Once we clean up, I mean. It's kinda early for bed," Anakin said. You nodded, and slowly dragged yourself out of the bed to the bathroom, which Anakin shared with his neighbor. You locked the doors and started cleaning up the wetness along the insides of your thighs.

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When Anakin exited the bathroom a couple of minutes later, he was still naked, and quite annoyed he had forgotten to bring a pair of underwear or pants or anything. Instead, he was pacing in his bathroom trying to figure out if whatever the two of you were was the kind of relationship where he could walk around flaccid without it being weird. Or would it be weirder if he wrapped a towel around himself? That would definitely be weirder, because he still smelled like sex, and he was going to shower tomorrow morning, anyway. He was too tired tonight.

After a few minutes, he decided to just leave, and if you got weirded out by him being soft, so be it. He couldn't imagine you would, but the delicacy of it all had him second-guessing everything. How far was too far? Would you push away a suggestion to wear his shirt to sleep tonight? What if he held your hand again?

He got his answer when he opened the door and found you wearing one of his old CU hoodies and pulling on a pair of his boxers. The grey hoodie was stretched out and soft, and it was too long on your frame, so it ended more around your upper thigh than your hips. His boxers looked a bit silly, but comfortable on you, and he felt a flare of possessiveness in his stomach. God, you looked like you were his. But that wasn't what this was, right? When he looked at you, he wasn't sure. He'd give anything for you to be his right now.

"Sorry, I didn't ask. Is this okay?" Your innocent eyes looked up at him, like you didn't know what you were doing to him. Yes, it's fucking perfect, and I kind of want to rail you again, but I think I'd pass out, he thought.

"Yeah, um, it's great," he said, trying to hide how pleased he was. He did not succeed, but he caught you hiding a smile.

The two of you settled into the bed, covered by one of his blankets. He grew up in a warm climate, he explained, and duvets were just so stuffy, so he used a pile of blankets and sheets instead. His laptop sat on your laps, balanced between one of his thighs and your leg.

"Have you ever watched Pride and Prejudice?" You asked.

"Uh, I think I watched the start of it once." He had, sometime at friend's house when it was playing on the TV. They didn't have cable when he was a kid, so he got most of his pop culture knowledge acquired before the age of thirteen from snippets at other people's houses and doctor's offices, before someone changed the channel.

You nodded and pulled it up on his laptop, slotting yourself just perfectly under his arm and on his chest. He was almost too distracted to look at the screen, and instead kept finding his eyes drifting back to the way your soft lips mouthed some of the lines. Every time he saw you, it made him smile like a maniac, and his cheeks were hurting by the time he noticed you were asleep. Darcy's first proposal rolled around, and you were gone to the world, so he gently closed the laptop and pulled the blanket up around your shoulders.

As Anakin drifted off, he thought about peace. The kind of stillness that you inspired in him when you were together, the focus you brought. And sure, he teased you, but you made him better. He was the best version of himself around you, and he wanted to spend every second of every day by your side. He slipped into a deeply restful sleep, but, before it took over, he asked himself if he'd ever felt this way about anyone before, and concluded that the answer was no.

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"Hey, Anakin?" You asked him the next morning, when you were throwing on a loose t-shirt of his and some old joggers.

"Yeah, what's up?" He tossed a jacket over his sweater. You were a bit nervous to bring it up, but the harshness of the morning light had made you think more about what you should have been doing last night than you would have liked.

"I was thinking, um, I'm worried about that thermo final, and I ended up not finishing what I wanted to last night, so, would you mind if we kinda sorta did less stuff for a tiny bit? Not that I don't enjoy it, I'm just worried about my grades," you explained. Anakin nodded.

"Yeah, of course. Why don't we say that we'll keep it PG until the thesis deadline on Monday?" His suggestion was great timing, actually, because you weren't sure you'd be clear-minded or awake enough for the next week to be able to have good sex anyway.

You agreed. And it was easier than you expected, too. Anakin was never too far away, which soothed the ache if you ever really felt like you needed to fuck him. Now that TKD practice was finished for the semester, given that you were in the week before finals, all his time was dedicated to classes and his thesis, both of which involved you. You left your dorm together, worked on your projects together, and walked home together.

Sometimes, you'd catch glances filled with something across the lab, and you didn't realize that you were shooting them at him too. When you were alone, which was typically after 11, you allowed yourself a hand on his shoulder, or a brush of his back. Just enough to remind you that he was still there, still real. Then you'd go back to your wiring, and everything else faded away.

You touched yourself in your bed nearly every night, thinking about him. One night, when you were particularly shameless, you pulled up his Instagram and looked at his photos as you got yourself off. It had only been three days since he last fucked you, but you were insatiable.

On Thursday, when you woke up, you got a text from him.

Anakin: hey, was thinking about typing my report n studying for thermo today in the library. wanna join?

You texted him back that, yes, you would, and that you could meet there after breakfast. On the way, you stopped by the campus bubble tea place for some much-needed caffeine to top up the supply of Celsius in your bag, and then entered the library. It was a grand space, all old-money style marble and granite. It made you feel like you were getting ready to go to some swanky gala, covered in Swarovski with a champagne flute in your hand.

Through the check-in desk, you found your way to the elevators, which took you to a distinctly less old-timey space. Anakin told you to get to level B3, which you did, and you found it to be quite cool for a subterranean lair. It had mesh rolling chairs, oak tables, and a little overlook of B4, which appeared to be a massive computer lab with rows of desktops set up. Only five were in use, which made the space pleasantly quiet. Anakin had saved you a seat at a table overlooking the students below. It was already covered in hand-sketched schematics for his thesis, and some crumpled slips of paper that were probably thoughts he'd had on the go and written down before he'd forgotten.

When he spotted you, he grinned and waved you over, and you told yourself the warm feeling in your gut was from him being such a good friend. He asked what you were drinking, then admitted that he didn't get the hype around boba. He'd had it once, at a freshman year event, and thought it was too expensive.

You spent the rest of the day trapped inside the library, only coming up for air to pick up a to-go box from the dining hall. He took about seven trips to the vending machine, four of which were to get Skittles, which he inhaled by the bag. He admitted, when prodded, that he maybe had a sweet tooth. The other three vending machine trips were for Red Bull, which he was using to get through the week, he explained. Around 3am, he forced you out of the building, and walked you home. Thankfully, the library was only three minutes from your building, but the city was not particularly safe at night, so the buddy system came in handy.

When you reached the elevators of your building, past the completely empty entrance, he hesitated before pushing the call button.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come up?" He asked the question while staring at the elevator door, and you hardly realized it was directed at you.

"Anakin, I thought we said we wouldn't--"

"No, I mean, just to sleep," he interrupted. The silence hung in the air between you, cut by the ding of his elevator arriving. "Sorry, that was weird of me. Good night," he said as he stepped inside. It seemed to surprise him when you followed him, but it wasn't like you'd say no, ever. You wore his hoodie to sleep again. You'd wanted nothing more than to feel his weight next to you all week, and it was a relief you didn't know you needed.

On Friday, once you'd gone to your room to change and grab some stuff, you met at the library again. This time, he texted you "i have a surprise for u." He was holding two bobas, one replica of your order, and one for him. He got the sugar wrong (it was too sweet), but it was the taro milk tea with a double serving of tapioca pearls. He'd gotten himself a mango green tea with jellies, so sweet that, when you tried it, you needed water to make your throat feel normal again. He laughed heartily when he saw your reaction, and pronounced your drink "too milky," but you saw him go for sips when you weren't looking.

(It was something he wouldn't have spent money on if it was just for him, but treating you was a treat for him, he told himself. His mom told him to take care of himself, and making you smile was the best feeling he could imagine, so it was technically self-care to buy this, right? And he could just work another hour in the Jinn lab this week to make up for it.)

Sometime around midnight on Friday, in the silence of the library, you felt his pinky graze yours. Sparks shot across your hand, just from that simple touch. When you looked up at him from your thermo textbook, you found him staring intently at you, mouthing is this okay? You nodded. It was. It was so okay.

You didn't know when, but, the next time you looked up, your fingers were laced with his, and he was grinning like a maniac as he looked down at some equations about air pressure.

You slept in his arms again that night, but in your bed this time. He would have to do the walk of shame this time, fair was fair.

On Saturday, after Anakin had slipped out to avoid questions from Ahsoka, you joined him at the lab for an hour, just to get photos of your project, then you both scurried over to the library for a couple more hours of writing. You were already at 56 pages, which you felt proud of, but then you saw Anakin hit 70, and you typed faster.

When he outpaced you and hit 80 before you hit 65, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the stacks at the back of B3, then kissed him silly. That will slow him down, you thought to yourself. It also slowed you down, but you didn't really find yourself caring much when you found him blushing for an hour afterward.

You slept in his bed that night, but a more appropriate description would have been that you both collapsed around 5 am.

On Sunday, you were both completely focused in the library, and consumed more caffeine than food. Anakin insisted he get you lunch, which he did, but he only ate bits of his. Dinner rolled around, and he got it for you again. You were finally finishing your first draft, and so was he, so you read each others'. His was, unsurprisingly, brilliant. His results section was a little sparse, but he was still in the prototyping phase, so that was fine, but you added a few comments anyway and caught a few missing verbs and weird sentence structures. When he returned your draft in half an hour, you found he had passed through it carefully, marking "justify more" and "good argument, put it in the intro too" and "why not use a different material for the shell?" all over the document. He was good at editing too, apparently. You hated to admit it, but his comments made your paper better. You just hoped you'd returned the favor.

The two of you passed out in your bed at 7 this time, only for an hour, before getting some food and writing furiously in the dining hall. The deadline was in four hours, and you were so, so close. Ahsoka joined you around 9, just to eat, but then went back to your room to study an hour later. The clock was ticking down, and you were bouncing off the walls. You still had to generate two graphs, and add all your citations.

You were practically vibrating in your chair when Anakin's hand found your knee under the table.

"It's okay. It's already good, don't get in your head about it," he assured you, just for a moment, before turning back to his own laptop and frantically adding some images of existing microsurgical tools.

At 11:59am, you both hit the submit button, then, without words, looked at one another and instantly went back to his apartment.

You didn't even take off your sweater before collapsing onto his bed. His warm body wrapped around you, and you had the best sleep you'd had all semester. You woke up at 9pm, but then promptly went back to sleep. You had a debt to catch up on.

The next morning, you dropped by the lab again. Just to get everything squared away from your submission, and to grab some basic parts so you could work over finals next week and maybe even over winter break the week after, if you found the motivation.

The only other person in the lab was Barriss, who greeted you warmly. You'd missed her sass and chipped black nail polish. She was a breath of fresh air among all the other dudebros who you had to deal with. Plus, she actually cared. She asked you questions about how your finals went, if you thought the thermo final was actually the tenth circle of hell too, and filled you in on her dating life. She had been seeing this girl, but it wasn't working out, so she was going to end it in a few days. You were dreading where the conversation would inevitably go, and you were getting ready to tell her that, no, you weren't seeing anyone, but she had another question. A much more direct question.

"Are you… with Anakin? I've seen you two together a lot lately." Barriss asked, her deep green eyes unreadable. Your blood went cold. Were you too obvious? Did Barriss see or hear you two fucking in the bathroom downstairs that one time you'd done anything in the building? You had to say something, quickly, or else you were scared she would get suspicious.

"Um, no? We're friends, nothing more," you said, intently staring at some imperfection in a section of the plastic. You grabbed some sandpaper, just to have something to do. Did she know about the two of you?

"Friends? I thought you hated him?" Her question was joking, lighthearted, and the tension eased from your shoulders. She was just being perceptive. You were spending a lot of time together, someone was bound to realize you weren't quite so anti-Anakin anymore. If you hadn't been so relieved, you would have noticed the edge underlying her tone.

"Well, I used to. But he's actually kind of a good person, turns out," you commented, shrugging as you worked a little too hard on the divot under your fingers.

A derisive snort flew from Barriss.

"What?" You suddenly couldn't give less of a damn about the plastic or the sandpaper. All you could look at was Barriss, who was tightening a nut on the body of her bike with a wrench like nothing was wrong.

"Just that you think he's good. It's kind of funny, actually," Barriss said as she shrugged nonchalantly. What the fuck did she mean? Anakin was a good person, a great person even, someone who you'd really like to spend more time with. What did she see that you didn't? Was it still that bot thing from sophomore year?

"What do you mean?" The question came out more tentative than joking, and you cursed your lack of subtlety. But it didn't matter how you asked it, not in the slightest, because what she would say would throw any facade of yours out of the window.

"Anakin Skywalker is a thief."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine

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s4toryuu · 11 months ago

Text

12:37 am — gojo satoru; sashisu

gojo satoru refuses to drink his medicine…

reblog to help gojo get better

out of everything you could call satoru, you think dramatic takes the top spot. so when you wake up in the middle of the night, you listen out for what could possibly have waken you up.

“koff! koff! UGH!” you recognized gojo’s voice from the dorm building behind yours.

oh my fucking god. you sighed. that morning, that idiot had to get sent to his dorm because he kept coughing every time yaga spoke. he sneezed and sniffled, so you assumed that he was actually ill and didn’t just decide to up his antics for no reason. besides, he was a little quieter than usual today.

you got up to put on a jacket and practically stomped to gojo’s dorm, where you were met with his open door and geto standing against the door frame.

“satoru, I told you the medicine wouldn’t be as effective later on.” geto sighed. you noticed his socks. they were pastel with characters on them. you ignored it to yell at who probably gave it to him.

“gojo! if you’re gonna cough just cough! you don’t have to yell after!” you said before sliding one of gojo’s slippers. there that idiot was, laying down faced up with arms stiff on his side and his comforter raised up to his chin. “are you playing dead?”

gojo groaned. “guys.” he sniffled. “I think this is it for me. suguru, I always loved you. y/n, I did steal your marshmallows last movie night. shoko—where’s shoko?” he looked up, illness suddenly voided for a second until shoko appears behind you. her dorm is a couple doors from yours after all. the snow-haired drama queen’s head fell back on his pillow and his sickness returned.

“eh, what?” she muttered to him before stepping inside. gojo started coughing again.

“are you contagious?” you asked before shifting away from gojo’s bed. geto took the medicine he got from gojo’s counter and placed it on the latter’s nightstand.

shoko walked over and sat on his bed. she placed her hand on gojo’s forehead before snickering. “you’re burning up. you really are gonna die.” she laughed.

you all chuckled, except gojo who whined again. “can’t you use reverse cursed technique on me shoookooo…”

“nope. I’ve only done it on physical injuries. why won’t you just drink the medicine?” she took the plastic little spoon and wiggled it to gojo’s face for emphasis.

gojo screwed his eyes shut and shook his head like a child. “don’t wanna.” if it wasn’t 12:37am on a school night you might’ve found it adorable.

“you might really die, satoru.” geto shot from the foot of gojo’s bed. he definitely woke up from his coughing and subsequent yelling, seeing as geto’s room is right next to gojo’s.

the next morning after your first class, the three of you gathered in the cafeteria and geto stirred up a plan.

“he’s probably not drinking it because he thinks it’s bitter.” you conclude.

suguru sipped on his tea. “ah, I know. that’s why I got the honey flavor version.”

“how are we gonna force him to drink it? it’s not like we can force feed it to him.” shoko shook her lollipop. you were just glad it wasn’t a cigarette.

“he’ll just turn on his infinity. I think we have to ambush him.” you laughed at the image.

“geto, summon a cursed spirit to hold him down.” shoko joked.

the cold breeze practically slapped you while walking to the dorms. geto was sure your victim was still asleep. he had the spare key when you thought to take off your shoes for maximum stealth. the two followed.

geto stood in front of the door to block the light while you and shoko slithered in. it was dark except for the nightlight by satoru’s night stand. you could make out the important things. the untouched medicine, and gojo sprawled over his bed under his sheets. he faced the left side cuddling a pillow. tissues filled the trash can dragged by his bed and some on the floor. poor kid.

geto tiptoed to the other side of the bed where satoru was faced while shoko prepared the poison. you got in position across geto and stifled a laugh at shoko trying to break the seal as quiet as possible. she tiptoed next to you and nodded to geto.

“satoru” geto called out. “satoru, wake up.”

“sugu…” gojo whined. he didn’t open his eyes. geto gestured for the syrup-filled spoon. shoko handed it to him promptly and again, you stifled a laugh at your plan.

“satoru-kun. aaah,” geto opened his mouth. geto using “-kun” was too funny.

surprisingly, satoru opened his mouth slightly too. what the hell? this wasn’t even part of the plan. suguru took the spoon to satoru’s mouth.

shit, it would probably just spill out with the way he was faced, you realized. you lunged to push satoru’s shoulder to the right so that he would face up. you decided him choking on it was better than it spilling. because that way it would at least get in his mouth.

gojo woke up. he made eye contact with you and immediately tried to get up. he moved his hand to push yours off but you held his shoulders down with your weight and geto got all the syrup in.

“MMGHFHG!” gojo yelled with his mouth closed. he struggled against you, and you gave it 5 seconds before his strength took over and even less before he activated infinity.

“geto!” you called and he took over your hold on sicko’s shoulders.

gojo started kicking, and you straddled his shins.

“swallow!” geto exclaimed as gojo tried to push his hands off. shit, this wouldn’t work.

“geto! get on!” you yelled and geto straddled gojo’s stomach.

“swallow it!” suguru grabbed gojo’s arms and held them against the bed by his head.

“HHNGNGGHH!” satoru shook his head.

“satoru! it’s honey flavored!” geto argued.

shoko laughed and you heard her camera shutter. she stood far enough to snap a picture and you realized what it looked like. you were straddling gojo’s calves while suguru was straddling gojo’s, uh… lower stomach with his hands pinned by his head.

then, as if on queue, the door opened. your heads snapped to the door and you saw your sweet (to you, at least) junior nanami for about .7 seconds before the door closed again.

you flew off of gojo’s calves. “nanami! wait!”

this ended with a lot more stsg than I thought lol

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #sashisu #fluff #crack #jujutsu kaisen #drabble #nanami kento #nanami is traumatized #fanfic #gojo x reader #satosugu

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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months ago

Text

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 12

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It can’t happen again!

That’s what Bucky kept thinking as he froze, watching you being dragged away by the bad guy. His mind was paralyzed with fear, reliving the trauma of his past. He bit his tongue hard, trying to snap himself out of it.

When the other abductor tried to silence him, something inside Bucky clicked. He entered defense mode, years of training kicking in. “Wake up, Bucky, you have to save her,” he murmured to himself.

As the abductor reached for him, Bucky made a lightning-fast move, grabbing the man's throat and choking him. He lifted the abductor effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing, and threw him aside like a bag of garbage.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” another abductor yelled, struggling to get you into the SUV.

Bucky sprinted to the car, his heart pounding. He leaped through the air and delivered a powerful kick to the abductor through the car window, shattering the glass. The abductor stumbled back, stunned.

You watched in awe as Bucky’s movements were swift and precise, each one a product of years of training. He grabbed the abductor by the collar and yanked him out of the car, slamming him to the ground with a thud. The abductor tried to fight back, but Bucky blocked every punch with ease.

The abductor threw a desperate punch at Bucky, but he dodged it effortlessly. With a quick, fluid motion, Bucky delivered a powerful blow to the abductor’s midsection, causing him to double over in pain. Bucky didn’t give him a chance to recover; he followed up with a swift uppercut that sent the abductor sprawling to the ground, unconscious.

After Bucky made sure the abductor was unconscious, he rushed over to you. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You were still speechless, struggling to process what had just happened. You thought you were strong, but facing this type of danger left you paralyzed with fear. If it weren’t for Bucky, you might have been taken.

Bucky noticed your unfocused eyes, recognizing the look from his own past experiences. He gently pulled you into his arms. This time, it was his turn to save you.

Your breath hitched as he hugged you suddenly. It was unexpected, but it felt right. You needed this. You tightened your grip around him, realizing you were safe now.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “I will find out who ordered these two,” he said, his voice low and angry. He didn’t know why, but he had a short list of suspects who could be behind this. His protective instinct was in overdrive, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

👗👗👗👗

At the press release, all the journalists and fashion critics had been waiting for you for an hour. Andrea and the rest of the team were already on edge. They had been trying to call you and were running out of excuses for your tardiness.

“Can you call her again?” Andrea asked her assistant, her voice tight with worry.

Her assistant shook her head, letting out a disappointed sigh. “No luck,” she replied.

Andrea clasped her hands together, silently praying for your arrival.

While the new team wondered where you were, Victoria watched from the backstage with a smug smile.

Genevieve glanced at her daughter. “Late to your first press release and making the magazine editors wait? Good luck recovering from that.”

Victoria smirked. “She won't be coming.”

“What do you mean?” Genevieve asked, her eyes narrowing.

Suddenly, the sound of police sirens filled the air. No one gave much thought to the police car stopping in front of the Velari building until they saw you and Bucky step out.

The journalists' cameras flashed incessantly, capturing every moment as they bombarded you and Bucky with questions about your delay and disheveled appearance.

Andrea and the others sighed in relief at your arrival, but Victoria's face went pale as snow. Her nervousness did not escape her mother’s notice.

Genevieve turned to Victoria, her eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

Victoria remained silent, trembling visibly.

“You…!” Genevieve gritted her teeth, furious at her daughter's recklessness.

‘Tap. Tap.’

The sound of your heels echoed as you walked up to the podium, your face set with determination. You glanced at Andrea, who gave you a reassuring nod, and then faced the crowd. Bucky stood close by, his presence a silent support.

Genevieve clenched her fists, trying to control her anger, while Victoria’s eyes darted nervously, unable to hide her fear.

With a deep breath, you began, “Thank you all for your patience. I apologize for the delay. We faced an unexpected situation, but we’re here now to share some exciting news about Velari’s future.”

The room quieted, every eye on you, as you began to outline the new direction for Velari, with Bucky’s steady gaze lending you strength.

“May I ask what happened to you?” one of the journalists inquired.

You cleared your throat, a confident smile playing on your lips. “Well, when life gives you lemons, squeeze them into the eyes of your enemies. That's how I’d describe what happened to me today.”

The crowd chuckled, and even Bucky couldn’t help but smile. He then noticed Victoria and Genevieve trying to sneak out through the backdoor. His eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

Your answer left the room momentarily stunned. The journalists exchanged glances, intrigued and curious about the kind of new leadership Velari was under.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and began your speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed critics, and valued partners of Velari, today marks a new chapter for us. Velari was built on the dreams and designs of my grandmother, Cassandra, and my mother, Ophelia. Their vision and passion created a legacy that has inspired countless people. It is time to return to those roots, to honor their memory by bringing back the essence of what made Velari great.”

You paused, looking around the room, making eye contact with as many people as possible. “We will be reintroducing classic designs with a modern twist, focusing on quality craftsmanship and timeless elegance. Our goal is to make Velari not just a brand, but a symbol of enduring style and grace.”

You could see heads nodding in agreement, the journalists scribbling notes furiously. Your confidence grew.

“We will also be launching a new line dedicated to sustainability, reflecting our commitment to the environment and ethical fashion. This isn't just about looking good; it's about feeling good, knowing that our choices make a positive impact on the world.”

You noticed some magazine editors smiling, clearly impressed. Andrea was beaming with pride, and even Bucky looked at you with admiration.

“Our journey will not be easy, and there will be challenges ahead. But with your support and our shared dedication, I believe we can elevate Velari to new heights. Together, we can revive the heart and soul of this fashion house.”

The room erupted in applause. Some of the magazine editors even stood up, clapping their hands enthusiastically. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful that your vision resonated with them.

Bucky gave you a reassuring nod, and Andrea looked like she could burst with pride. Meanwhile, Victoria and Genevieve, still trying to slip away unnoticed, froze momentarily at the sound of the applause.

You stepped back from the podium, your heart pounding but filled with hope. “Thank you all for believing in Velari,” you concluded, “and for being part of this incredible journey.”

As the applause continued, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. You were ready to lead Velari into a brighter future, no matter the obstacles.

👗👗👗👗👗

‘Slap!’

Victoria's cheek stung sharply from the blow. She touched her reddening skin, eyes wide with shock. It had been years since her mother had slapped her. Memories of Genevieve hitting her for failing to surpass you in school flooded back. No matter how hard Victoria tried, you were always number one.

Genevieve glared at her, seething with anger. “Are you stupid? Why the hell would you try to kidnap her in broad daylight, with Bucky there too?”

“I just… I'm sorry, Mother,” Victoria stammered, her voice trembling. She knew it was useless to offer excuses; Genevieve was never one to accept them.

Genevieve sighed deeply, shaking her head in frustration. “At least you should’ve hired professionals, not those two amateurs. If you want to scare someone, make it count. One hit should be enough to terrify your enemies.” She had learned this from Jonathan, whose success was partly due to his brutal methods. If persuasion failed, he resorted to fists rather than words.

She sighed again, her frustration palpable. “If your father knew about this, he would be disappointed.” She grabbed her phone and started typing furiously.

“Mom, are you going to tell Dad?” Victoria's voice was laced with fear.

“No way. He would be angry at me too. Be quiet. I’m going to hire someone to clean up your mess,” Genevieve replied curtly.

Victoria's heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Genevieve didn’t look up from her phone, her fingers tapping rapidly. “I mean, I’m going to fix this. Properly.” She glanced at her daughter, her eyes cold and calculating. “And next time, think before you act. One more mistake like this, and I might not be able to protect you.”

👗👗👗👗👗

After the success and the warm welcome from the fashion world, Bucky insists on taking you to the hospital for a check-up.

“I’m fine, really,” you reassure him for the umpteenth time. “Nothing’s broken. I’m just a bit shaken.”

But Bucky remains adamant. “I already called the best doctor to check on you,” he says, his voice firm.

The doctor’s examination confirms your words. “You’re perfectly fine, just a bit of shock,” the doctor says with a smile.

Bucky finally relaxes, albeit reluctantly. “Alright, if the doctor says you’re fine…”

You smile, touched by his protectiveness. “Thank you, Bucky.”

Suddenly, his phone buzzes, and he answers it. “Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell us? Your mom is panicking right now,” Rowan’s voice comes through, laced with worry.

“I’m fine,” Bucky replies, trying to sound reassuring.

Rowan sounds frustrated. “You’re so stubborn. Fine, if you insist. By the way, someone wants to see you and Y/N.”

“Who?” Bucky raises his eyebrows. It’s unusual for his father to ask him to meet someone, especially along with you.

“An old friend of mine,” Rowan says cryptically.

Bucky sighs and looks at you. “My father wants us to meet someone.”

“Who?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I asked the same thing."

So, both of you arrive at the big mansion. It’s beautiful, reminiscent of Bucky’s place. You can’t help but ask, “Is this your other house?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, it belongs to my dad’s friend.”

When you arrive, a butler is already waiting and opens the door. “Welcome.”

Rowan is there, waiting. “Come here,” he says, guiding both of you inside. As you walk, you notice the house is filled with antiques, like the interior of a castle.

“Who is this person you’re going to introduce us to?” Bucky asks his dad.

Rowan responds, “An old friend of mine. He just got back from Europe and is interested in investing in Velari.”

The mention of Velari catches your attention.

“What’s his name?” Bucky asks.

“Patrick Beaumont,” Rowan replies.

The name 'Patrick' makes you and Bucky exchange glances.

Finally, you stop at the living room. Standing near the fireplace is a man whose presence is strikingly similar to Bucky’s dad. A successful man. Well, it's evident from the big mansion.

Rowan gestures towards him. “Patrick, here they are.” Rowan continues, “this is Bucky and Y/N. They’re leading the new direction for Velari.”

The man who called himself Patrick turned around and smiled warmly at you and Bucky. He was handsome, tall, and impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. Despite being in his 50s, he exuded an air of vitality and sophistication.

Patrick approached you, and you felt an unexpected wave of emotion from him. There was a subtle sadness in his eyes that made you pause.

While you were trying to read Patrick’s expression, Bucky stood close by, his jaw tightening. He didn't like it when another man looked at you for too long.

Patrick’s voice was soft and tinged with longing. “You look so much like Ophelia.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Bucky’s did, too. Was this the Patrick your grandma had often mentioned? And why did he mention your mother’s name?

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

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ixtaek · 3 months ago

Text

They were all incredibly kind.

Zelda watched them as they helped the former residents of Skyloft—moving supplies, crafting tools, teaching the patrols how to defend themselves from the dangers of the surface.

The Hero of Hyrule demonstrated how to tell if water was safe to drink. “You want water that’s moving, and ideally deep.” He grinned as he ladled out of a bucket. “It’s best to boil the water and let it cool. That will get rid of any toxins and germs that might be lingering in it.” He tried to take a sip but the water poured out faster than he expected, pouring down his front as Kukiel giggled at him.

A vision flashed through Zelda’s mind, overlaying the scene. The Hero of Hyrule gripping a sword, blood dripping down his tunic as he struggled away from a monster clawing for his face. The beast cackled as the Hero tried to swipe at them while his shield arm hung limp, shield dragging—

She blinked, Hyrule’s laughter as he dumped a spoonful of water on Kukiel as well breaking through the vision. The girl squealed and shook her head to send droplets flying.

The Hero of Twilight and Time lifted a log into place, letting the builders work to secure it in the new cabin wall. The two seemed to have a bet going about who could hold it up longer. Their arms both shook from the effort of—

A boy, barely reaching her knee, breathing heavily as he shoved his shield forward to block a blow by an undead monster. The boy lowered his defense to fumble for his sword. The monster took the blow without flinching, long teeth slavering as it unhinged its jaw and screamed—

The scene dissolved into a long bridge. A snarling boar pawed at the other end, tusks stained with blood. The monster astride its back howled a battle cry, a small child held aloft on its spear. The hero to her left gasped in horror, his blue eyes locked on the child. He spurred his steed forward, sweat dripping down his face as—

“I yield, I yield!” Twilight yelped. The wall was already secured as the hero fell back, giggling. The Hero of the Wild accepted his ten rupee bribe from Time before continuing his tickle assault on his mentor.

A mere boy staggering as the lasers hit him in the chest, the side of his head gushing blood, arms still trying to hold up a shield to protect—

“Zel?”

She turned, almost falling against Link’s chest. Sky’s eyes were soft as they traced over her face. “Are you… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She tried to smile, ignoring the wetness in her eyes. “I’m fine, Link. Just a little out of sorts.”

The divine blood in her burned. Link smiled and pulled her closer, hugging gently.

Soft hands wielding a flaming sword, lighting crackling through his body. Fighting a demon that should have been slain ages ago by the gods, by— by—

“… By me…”

“What?” Link held her at arms length so he could look at her face. “Zelda, what are you talking about?”

“All of you… none of you should have had to go through what you did!” Zelda could feel the tears on her cheeks. “Hylia shouldn’t have put you through all of that. She—I—used all of you! It’s all my fault for not defeating Demise sooner, before you ever had to step in and clean up my mess!”

She pushed away. Many people were staring now, villagers and heroes alike.

Falling from the cliffs as a giant bird became a smaller and smaller speck in the sky, the screams of his sister like—

—hounds baying in the distance, knights brandishing swords as his short legs fled—

—waves of foes overwhelming their defenses, his brothers in arms falling around him, the weapons clattering as they fell from their limp hands—

—the blade his grandfather made going flying as the blow meant for Zelda hit him head on, the wind ripping at his tunic as he heard the curse strike his friend—

She couldn’t stand it. Her feet were moving before she knew where she was going.

“Zelda! Wait!”

She kept going, the visions buffering her every which way. A mask clamping—his body fracturing—a traitor’s blade in—the island fading into—the malice clinging to his—tentacles lurching forward—his own face rendered in dark—reaching for her as a tornado sucked her away—

Zelda blinked, looking up. The impassive face of the goddess stared down, without a trace of pity. Hylia. The divine protector of her people. The holy maiden. Her.

The one who had failed, who had sent them all to—

—dark magic suffocating his split mind—sparking a flame so they wouldn’t claim his blood—the magic of the woods stripping his flesh—the dark water—the endless fighting—the intrigue—the—

“Why?!” She screamed. “Why would you do it to them? Why make them suffer?! They are just boys, and you—I—we break them down and don’t even care that we do! They must hate us for—“

“Why should we hate you?”

The voice made her wince, spinning around, covering her mouth. The heroes, all of them, stood a careful distance away, Link at the head of the group. It wasn’t him who had spoken.

The Hero of Legend ambled forward, looking up at the statue. His sharp eyes scanned the goddess, and he sighed.

“I was 11 when my uncle was killed. He held my hand as he died.” He closed his eyes, grimacing. “He wasn’t killed by Hylia, or the golden three. He was killed by a wizard called Agahnim.”

“When I was 12, my best friend got turned into stone.” Four shuffled his feet. “It wasn’t Hylia who did it. It was a sorcerer named Vaati.”

“When I was 10, I was trapped in a time loop trying to stop the apocalypse.” Time ignored the whispers by the others at this admission. “It wasn’t Hylia or the goddess of time who started that disaster. It was a demon named Majora.”

“And my sister got taken by the Helmaroc King!”

“My village children were taken by Zant.”

Legend looked at her sidelong. “And guess who was behind most of those threats?”

“Ganon.” whispered Hyrule, running a finger over his gauntlets. “It’s almost always Ganon.”

“But—“ Zelda scrubbed at her face. “But it’s my fault! Why didn’t I stop Demise before he could do that to you? What sort of goddess sends children to fight her battles?”

Time snorted, moving closer to her, careful not to invade her space till she nodded weakly. “Zelda, do you think we wouldn’t have done those things?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Ya think I wouldn’t have gone after my sister? No one had to make me!” Wind grinned. “In fact, nothing would have stopped me!”

The others nodded.

“But I saw it, the terrible things you went through! Hylia watched, and you suffered!” She gestured at them all. “What you’re still suffering! This quest—“

“Sounds to me like we have a goddess literally lookin’ out for us, even now.” Twilight crossed his arms, smirking. “Probably wouldn’t have ended as good as it has without you protecting us.”

“As good as it—“

Smiling and blushing as the newly awakened princess kissed him on the cheek—gripping the rails as the new land swung into view over the horizon—watching the reflected world bloom back into life as Lorule’s Triforce was restored—hugging the children as they rode back into the village—fields of blue flowers blooming underfoot as he rode along and watched the reconstruction—the proud smile of his father as he worked with the squadron instead of going rogue—joining Zelda and Lana as they stood before the cheering troops, Hyrule free once more—Malon looking radiant as she walked down the aisle—clutching their daughter, the first Princess of the newly founded Hyrule—

Link took her hands gently. “If Hylia didn’t care, why would she—or you—have watched out for us the whole time? If you didn’t care, why would you be so upset by what we’re going through, if our own free will?” Zelda sniffled, letting him hold her. “We don’t blame you. It’s Demise’s fault, or Ganon’s. Not Hylia’s. And not yours.”

She squeezed him, looking up at the statue. Her smile was gentle, her wings spread overhead, sheltering them all. She swore she always would watch over them.

Till the very end.

#linked universe #lu sun #lu sky #lu time #lu wild #lu warriors #lu wind #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu four #lu twilight #hylia #goddess hylia #my crazy hot take?#she is not the bad guy #this has been in my head a while #everyone says she hates them but like??? the shadow is Right There

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agentmaxa · 1 year ago

Text

Late to the Game (Uswnt x Reader)

Not Requested

Sorry for any mistake, please enjoy.

"Kelley I swear if you don't-

"Sorry Y/n, I can't hear you from all the way down there."

Kelley teased the youngest player of the national team by resting herself on Y/n while propping herself up.

The 17-year-old let out a huff, as the teammates around them laughed at Kelley's antics. Only a handful of them had seen the look in Y/n's eyes that told them this was about to take a turn.

Taking a large step to the side Y/n caused Kelley to fight gravity which was a losing battle.

O'Hara basically face-planted it on the turf and everyone burst out laughing.

Y/n chucked along as Kelley got up.

"You think that's funny?" Kelley teased.

Y/n replied, "Absolutely hilarious."

Causing O'Hara to purse Y/n while shouting, "Get back here shortstack!"

-----

Y/n went to get a ball from off the sidelines, picking it up in hopes of doing a few tricks to pass the time during a small break in practice.

Until O'Hara bumped into Y/n by accident. "Oh, sorry L/n-"

"It's fine-"

"Guess I just didn't see you from all the way down there."

"It's one freaking inch," Y/n said exasperated, over the fact that Kelley kept pointing it out.

Kelley chucked to herself, "That's what she said."

On any other day, Y/n would have found that humorous as well.

But not today.

"That's it!"

Y/n tackled Kelley to the ground, putting her in a headlock, and attempting to give Kelley a noogie.

They tossed with each other for a few minutes gaining the attention of most of the team.

"Hey look, they're starting a new line of mini WWE Wrestlers for the national team."

Sam and Sonnett joked as they saw Y/n and O'Hara's roughhousing had turned into a little bit of a wrestling match.

Unfortunately, for them, Kelley and Y/n had also heard the comment.

Partially out of breath, Y/n looked at Kelley, "Truce?"

"Truce."

The two grinned and Sonnett and Sam soon realized their mistake.

"Nonononon- wait!"

Nothing was stopping Kelley as she tackled Sonnett to the ground while Y/n pursued Sam.

Chasing her, Y/n gained enough speed to leap onto Sam's back dragging her down to the ground the two laughing as they stayed there for a little.

Only interrupted by the whistle calling the whole team to circle up.

Y/n and Sam got up but saw Kelley had sat on Sonnett's back keeping the woman down.

"O'Hara, I'm warning you."

"I'd like to see you- AAAHH!"

Kelley tried to grasp onto something but Sonnett managed to throw Kelley off and get up.

"How's it feel being down there for a change?" Y/n teased.

"Pretty nice actually, maybe move to the left a bit. You're not blocking the sun enough, mini."

-----

Getting ready to leave for the plane, Y was packing some final things.

"Ready to leave already squirt?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Y/n turned to O'Hara.

"Almost."

"I'm still not sure how you're okay with this."

"Do I have a choice?"

Kelley shrugged her shoulders.

Y/n wasn't going to the World Cup. Reason being there were more players with more caps under them to choose from. Y/n had done the camps and games but just didn't make the cut.

"I mean I know it's not the worst thing possible for you but just saying you've proved your spot more than enough."

"Let's be real here Kels you just need me so you have a headrest."

"That too."

"Just don't lose too badly out there."

Kelley dawning a hurt expression, "I see how it is."

The woman took Y/n by surprise, taking them both down, and roughhousing ended in fits of laughter.

-----

Y/n was woken by the blaring alarm, "Nnnnooooo."

As tempting as the snooze button was Y/n knew being late wasn't an option.

Gathering some belonging and packed luggage Y/n heard a familiar voice from just beyond the bedroom door.

"Sweetheart you up?"

"Yeah, I'll be downstairs in a few Dad."

Getting everything ready, Y/n left a few things by the front door and headed into the kitchen to see Dad and Papa.

"Ready for another camp, sprout?"

"Yeah, although I do wish you'd stop calling me that. The sprouting has stopped in case you haven't noticed."

"And did I ever say anything when you called me Pop-pop?"

Y/n laughed, "I haven't called you that since I was like eight."

"Your point?"

Y/n let out a chuckle, "Okay Pop-pop. I need to get going, don't want to miss my flight."

"Wait, I packed you a small snack."

"Dad small or normal people small?"

Y/n teased Dad knowing sometimes he over-packed.

"Har-har. I just want you to have options."

"Love you too, old man." Y/n kissed his temple as he drank his coffee grabbing the bag that had the 'snack' in it.

Y/n looked down a little as Papa could kiss the top of Y/n's head.

Hurrying out of the house Y/n heard one of them say, "Call us when you land!"

"Always do!"

-----

Y/n walked into the hotel lobby, not seeing anyone else yet Y/n just checked in with the receptionist.

Heading up to the room, Y/n double-checked for any messages left by the team.

Hearing the elevator open to the room floor Y/n walked out and then did a final check on messages from anyone and saw one from Ash.

'Do you have a tall twin by chance?'

Not even replying Y/n looked to the elevator to see Ash and Ali already trying to figure out who just walked past them.

"Hey, guys."

"Bubs?!"

Ali and Ash both said the nickname they personally had for Y/n, shocked that this was the same person.

"A few inches taller but yeah."

Ash, without warning, ran towards Y/n, clinging to Y/n like a koala to a tree.

"No growing up anymore!"

Y/n lightheartedly chuckled, thinking about how Dad and Papa nearly had the same reaction when noticing the very late and sudden growth spurt.

"Don't worry, I think this is as tall as I go."

Y/n put Ash down. Ali was looking at Ash and Y/n with a smile, noticing Y/n must've only been an inch or two taller than Ash.

"It better be." Ash acknowledged that Y/n was the tallest out of the three.

"Alright, come here bubs." Y/n smiled at Ali, not used to leaning down while hugging the majority of the team.

"It's good to see you guys again."

"I didn't know Sam was here." The three heard Crystal's voice, the hug ending.

Y/n turned around, "Hey Dunn."

The woman just put a hand on her hip, "Well if this isn't a surprise."

"Believe me, I'm still getting used to it myself."

"I'm gonna miss my short buddy."

"I mean I'm pretty sure that just means I give better piggybacks."

-----

Giggling and laughter were heard through the hallway to the cafeteria.

Everyone turned to see who was making the commotion.

Suddenly Y/n came through the doorway with Dunn piggybacking. Both laughed at the situation.

Nearly every person froze. Not seeing Y/n since the last camp before the World Cup.

Dunn got off of Y/n's back, giving the young player a pat between the shoulder blades.

"Shortstack?!"

"Hey, Kels," Y/n said nervously as Kelley's jaw went slack.

"You're.... you're..."

"Tower of Power 2.o?"

As Kelley continued to fumble Sam walked up to Y/n, "Damn, yeah. Welcome to tall people club."

Sam smiled seeing Y/n was still around an inch shorter than her.

While everyone went back to what they were doing before the chaos, Sam and Y/n sat together with Kelley, Sonnett, and a few others.

"Hitting your head a lot?" Sam inquired.

"Not as much, mainly when I just don't think about it."

"Don't worry, you'll learn to auto-duck."

Y/n chuckled, "I think I'll just miss the lost bed space. My bed feels so small now."

Sam nodded in solace.

"The price we pay."

"Were you bitten by a radioactive spider?"

The whole table kind of froze and slowly turned to Kelley.

"Not that I recall?" Y/n answered a little confused

"I'll find out soon enough."

"You wanna tango with my extra muscle, O'Hara?"

While not the most notable change in Y/n, the growth spurt caused Y/n to eat more and in turn, needed to work off more food. It also meant more time in the gym to work out some muscles.

Kelley thinking Y/n just meant the height difference mumbled, "The bigger they are, the harder they fall."

Y/n shrugged the woman off.

"Well, none of that matters because now I get to ride all the grown-up rides!"

The enthusiasm caused the room to erupt in laughter.

#uswnt x reader #woso x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #woso imagine #woso imagines

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twjournals · 2 years ago

Text

summary: you're drunk at the club and Stiles takes you home

word count: over 1.4k

warning: two besties in love but neither will make the first move, drunken kiss, protective Stiles

"Think she's even good to drive?" Scott leaned into Stiles to talk over the music.

Stiles' eyes never left your as he shook his head. "Not a chance."

He had watched you nearly all night, between dragging Lydia to the dance floor with you every time your song come in (who knew you had so many) and nursing your drinks. He watched mainly because he wanted to make sure your night wasn't ruined by some scum. Or at least that's what he told himself. Either way, he was only looking out for you.

Lydia dragged you back to the bar with her arm around your waist. "Come on, Y/n, help a girl out." She huffed which caused you to giggle.

You propped yourself up against the bar, leaning your head against Stiles' shoulder with a sigh. His arm protectively rested around your waist to keep you up and though you were damn near wasted, you noticed.

"Keep an eye on her please. I need to use the bathroom." She says as she's already walking in the direction on the bathroom.

Stiles watched as you nuzzled your face in his neck for a moment. He wondered if you even knew who he was after that many shots. You were his best friend, aside from Scott, and he was in love with you. As much as he hated to admit it. Maybe he shouldn't hate it so much because you were after all his best friend. You knew each other in and out. No one could truly love you for everything you are like him, but it was also because you were his best friend that he hated to admit it. He feared even risking your friendship especially over his feelings.

"We should get you home." Stiles suggested.

You grumbled a noise as you started to sit up on the stool properly. Your hands held the bar for support. "I'm not ready to go though." You probably should go before you embarrassed yourself more, but right now, you had no shame.

You started to call the bartender over again, lifting yourself over the bar. Nevermind the way your dress was riding up, nor the fact that people could see your underwear. You had to get that man's attention. Just one more drink. That's what you kept telling yourself.

"Y/n," Stiles grumbled in your ear, feeling his chest quickly pressed against your back. He used his body to block everyone else from the show they would get. You weren't making this easy for him. "Sit down."

"Or what?" You shivered at the feeling of him pressed against your bare back, his warm breath against your ear. But you must stay focused.

"Where are your keys? I'm taking you home." He proceeded. You wondered if he was even listening.

"Stiles, I- I can take myself." You could feel your skin getting hot having him so close, or maybe that was the alcohol.

"Not a chance. Where are your keys?"

"No, I'm not leaving yet- that tickles-" You giggled as his hands tickled your sides while trying to reach your bag. "Nooo, I don't wanna go yet, Stiles-" You push yourself further into the counter, nearly throwing yourself over it in attempt to get out of his reach.

You're bent over the bar with a grin on your lips, your hands clinging onto his arms to keep him from getting your keys.

"You leave me no choice." He mumbled as he slips the bartender money to pay your tab just as you were about to order again.

You didn't have much time to ponder what he mean't by that before he was picking you up suddenly, pulling you over his shoulder. His hand shielded your ass to keep people from seeing up your dress as he carried out of the club.

"Stiles, put me down!" You protest.

You hear the door to the jeep open before he's putting you in passenger seat. He pointed a finger at you as he blocked you in. "You're drunk and I want you getting home safe." He stood still to make sure you didn't try to jump out on him. "Stay."

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, the soft look at his eyes easing any emotion of anger. He shut the door before walking around to the driver side.

You could feel his eyes on you as you gazed out the window at your car still parked in the parking lot. "What about my car?" You hiccuped.

"It'll be okay. We'll come back for it tomorrow." He assured as he started to drive you home.

The car ride was quiet aside from your hiccups. Stiles glanced in your direction when your hiccups died down, hoping he might find you asleep, but you were still awake with your stare lingering out the window. He worried he might have pissed you off for carrying you out of the club, but then again he knew you would thank him in the morning.

He pulled the door open while you were in front of your place.

"Mad at me?" He couldn't help but to question.

You shook your head though, reaching your arms out for him to pick you up. He smiled, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style up the sidewalk toward your apartment building.

You listened to his heart beating against his chest and how it increased when your hand rubbed across it. You really couldn't ask for a better best friend. No one had ever looked out for you like Stiles did, cared for you the way he did. You almost laughed at the thought of Lydia trying to get you up to your apartment.

Stiles sat you down when you finally reached your bed, taking a moment to help you out of your heels so you could get into bed. "Before I go, can I get you any-" You caught him off guard when your lips pressed to his suddenly. Maybe you shouldn't have, but given how much liquor you had consumed, nothing was stopping you now. In fact, it only made the craving worse.

His lips were still against yours, processing what was happening. You were kissing him. This was really happening.

His arms wrapped around your body when he finally kissed you back. Your hands gripping the back of his neck to pull him further on the bed with you until his hands met the mattress.

"Wait-" He mumbled against your lips.

You parted from the kiss to look at him, still holding the back of his neck.

He closed his eyes with a frown. "Not like this." He started as he pushed himself up on the bed.

"Oh." You sat up on the bed, awkwardly crossing your legs as you adjusted your dress.

"No, I didn't mean it like that- I just Fuck.. You're perfect. Really you are. I have wanted this for so long, but I can't do it like this."

"Stiles.."

You watched the way he ran his hand down his face in frustration. You crawled closer to him on the bed, rubbing your hand in soothing circles against his back in attempt to calm him through his panic.

"You didn't do anything wrong." You assured.

"You're drunk-"

You interrupted him with a giggle. "To be fair, I kissed you first."

And yet he still couldn't stop himself from feeling this way. Not because it happened but more because he wanted to do it again. Just to pull you into his arms and kiss your lips all over again. He had no shame in kissing you, only never wanting to stop.

"I'm sorry for kissing you." You apologized.

He watched you lay back on the bed and sighed as he helped you pull the covers over your body. "Don't apologize."

"I don't want you upset."

"I'm not upset." He assured.

"Then I'm not sorry." You admitted honestly, quickly taking back your apology. Despite how much you had to drink, you would never be able to drown out the feelings you truly had for Stiles.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before letting out a chuckle. "Well next time, would you mind doing it sober?"

Next time. Silly boy. It would be tempting. There was no doubt about it. You smiled instantly against the covers, turning over to get comfortable on the bed with your back facing him. You only hoped you would have the courage you do now to do it again sober.

"Goodnight, Stiles." You finally answered.

Though you couldn't see him, you could feel his eyes lingering on you. It was nowhere near the answer he was hoping for, but it was the answer he settled for. "Goodnight, Y/n."

#stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #this is probably a cringe but this man is too cute

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kazbrekkerscrutches · 2 years ago

Text

Xavier Thorpe - Hurt

Warnings: Mention of gore, b!ood, and violence. Wednesday hurting reader. PTSD. Xavier being the best bf and doctor on Earth.

Words: 1.5 k

SHE/HER PRONOUNS

Context/Trope: Reader is Xavier’s girlfriend, Wednesday is torturing her in the Nightshade library, he finds her and helps her

“Why are you doing this to me, Wednesday?” I almost screamed. Blood was coming out of every orifice in my body.

She had punched me in the head with a hammer, dragged me into the Nightshade library; where Xavier used to bring me, and tied me up to a chair.

“This isn’t personal, dear Y/N. I know what you are and you need to tell me who is your master.” She whispered so tonally and coldly.

“I have no idea what you are talking about!” I screamed now, she had brought out two tasers from her jacket, and tortured me over and over again.

“The Nightshades will make you pay, Wednesday. You can’t do whatever you wish in here!” I yelled now, the pain surrounding my body and my mind.

I heard two snaps, indicating that a fellow Nightshade member would soon be coming in. A small yet reassuring smile appeared on my face, bringing me some type of comfort.

I saw Wednesday panic as she approached me. “You say a word and I will carve your eyes out.” She threatened.

I saw her go up the stairs to block whoever was trying to come in.

I heard a quiet yet stern voice of a boy talking to her.

Xavier.

They were mumbling and he rose his voice, trying to get pass her.

“Help! Xavier!” I yelled, Wednesday saw me. That’s when I saw him. He was faster to come down then her as he took my face in his hands.

“What have you done to her, you psychopath!” He yelled. He untied me from my chair and pulled me into his arms.

Wednesday froze. She didn’t know that Xavier and I were together. At this point, I was full on sobbing into his chest, but he kept his embrace just as tight around me.

“Wednesday, you should go.” She just stood there, watching us, watching me. I was completely and utterly afraid of her. She terrified me and Xavier knew that. He could feel the way my whole body shook, the heavy tears wetting his shirt, my needy embrace around his chest.

He didn’t let go.

We both watched her walk up the stairs with all her torturing tools. I felt safe when I heard the statue shut the door.

Tears flooded out of my eyes once more. Sobs racked through my body as if a drill was going through my heart. No words came out of my mouth. No words came out of his. He simply held me. He checked my body for any major injuries which was mostly my head.

“I’m gonna bring you to my room, okay? You’ll be safe there.” He softly kissed my forehead, trying not to hurt me.

“I’m not sure I can walk, Xav.” I whispered, which was the only voice left in my body after all that screaming.

“That’s okay, princess. Hang on tight, we’ll be there in a minute.” He loosened his grip on my upper body only to pass one of my arms over his shoulder, taking my legs on his arms and carrying me out of that place.

“My head hurts.” I whispered as I passed out in his embrace.

[Xavier’s POV]

She passed out in my arms.

I looked at her for a minute, making sure she was still breathing. I know I should be taking her to the infirmary but it was too dangerous. Wednesday could do something again and I cannot risk that. Not for me, and especially not for Y/N.

I would never forgive myself if she got hurt because of me.

I carried her all the way back to my room, opening the door carefully; making sure nothing hit her by accident, and shut the door behind us.

I carefully placed her on my bed, placing her in one of her favorite zip-ups which was mine. She said it reminded her of me; of how comforting I smelled and I felt when I was around. That’s one of the most adorable thing she has said to me.

When I got scratched by my painting, I had gone into town to go buy some first aid stuff to heal my scars; hopefully that would be enough to help her.

I took the kit out of my drawer, taking out things I thought I may need.

Her head twitched slightly when I lifted my hand to clean up the cut on her eyebrow. She woke up, almost jumping off from the bed, but I cached her in time.

“Hey, hey it’s okay Y/N. It’s just me. Xavier. I’m not going to hurt you.” I felt her calm down by my touch, she leaned into my shoulder, breathing me in softly.

I guided her to lie down again, calming her down.

“Thank you, Xav. Thank you for saving me.” A few tears shed from the corner of her eyes. I wiped them away with my thumb.

“You don’t have to thank me, I’m your boyfriend. I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what.” I smiled softly as she watched me closely with her beautiful eyes.

I showed her the cleaning supplies, she shook her head softly, telling me it was okay for me to take care of her.

[Y/N’s POV]

Xavier was always soft with me. He would be the kind of guy to always act like a gentleman even if he had a bad day. He always made me his top priority.

I sharply exhaled when he passed the cotton pads around my head. That bitch did not miss, I thought.

I probably did have a concussion but Xavier has had plenty; he told me he’d take good care of me.

He put all the stuff away, telling me he was done cleaning me up. I had noticed that he had put one of my favorite zip-ups on me; one of his. I smiled slightly as the sight of that. Genuinely kind and cute move. God, I love this boy.

“All done, do you want one of my pants to be more comfortable in? You can sleep here.” He put the kit away; that he probably used for his scars on his neck. I nodded. He smiled slightly and handed one of his pair meanwhile he was helping me sit up.

My head did hurt; not a question, but it hurt way more than it did before.

“It’s the adrenaline. Same thing happened to me when I broke my nose. I received the soccer ball with my face and let me tell you that I laughed, and the teacher made me move my nose. It was ridiculous. Next thing I was aware was an X-Ray of my broken nose and a concussion for a while. Not fun, my mom had to wake me up every three hours only to check if I hadn’t died.” He confessed.

I laughed a little at the story, and it made me feel better.

He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head and helped me out of my bloodied clothes, having me lean on him for support.

“You need rest, love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He whispered, kissed me softly and sat down at his desk besides the bed.

He took his sketch book in his lap and scrambled endlessly at one of his masterpiece. I watched him softly for a couple of minutes.

“Xavier?” I asked quietly.

“Yes, princess?” He looked up from his book.

“Can you stay with me?” I knew he was right in front of me but I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep without him.

He nodded, lifted up that blankets he had placed on my fragile body and wrapped me up in his embrace. My face was hitting the hard muscle of his chest, filling me up with a calm and quiet energy of the prodigy.

“Am I hurting you?” He whispered slowly, not wanting to startle me.

“No, you’re not. I’m okay.” I responded back, holding him tighter against me.

“Are you okay?” He placed again. He rearranged his head against mine, holding one of his hands to brush his hand in my hair.

“She may have tortured me, for her stupid accusation but I am okay. She hit me a couple of times, tazed me a couple of times but that was never enough to make me break. I had nothing to hide. I know it sounds terrible, but I will heal. I have you. I will always be more than okay if I have you by my side.” I rambled in his chest.

He placed a soft and loving kiss on the top of my head.

“I will care for you everyday. I always will and I swear on it. Get some rest, now. I’m not letting you out of my sight, princess.” He whispered lovingly.

“Creep.” I called out softly.

“I love you, too.”

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022

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broadwaybalogna · 4 months ago

Note

Zutara prompt: During Zuko's recovery Katara asks him why he took Azula's lightning. For him, the reason couldn't be more clear.

Eeeeeek this is so cuteeeee

Me when Zutara fluff❤️❤️❤️

Zuko was in and out of consciousness the first five days after the Agni Kai. Nurses were rushing in and out of his room at all times during those days. The only thing that remained constant was Katara by his side.

When he first saw her, he hadn’t even remembered how they had gotten together in the first place, the memories of his Agni Kai with Azula still blurry. Then, when he finally had time to reassess himself, he let out a sigh of relief.

Katara was safe, and that meant they won.

Every so often, he would awake to Katara healing him, her hands placed right where the throbbing pain of a lightning strike lay. When her hands were over his chest, however, the pain would subside, and he could properly relax into her touch.

If Katara ever recognized him waking up, she never acknowledged it, her sole focus being on healing him.

He would relax his eyes and fall back asleep after that.

Zuko was finally able to have conversations a week after the Agni Kai, and was soon moved to the Fire Lord’s palace where he would be in the care of Katara and a few other nurses.

“Thank Tui and La you’re okay!” Katara exclaimed when she saw him awake in his own bed.

“Katara,” he rasped out, attempting to start a conversation but falling into a coughing fit.

“Don’t speak! Here, let me get you some water.” Katara left the room only to return two minutes later with a large class of water for Zuko.

Zuko took a few sips and let his body relax to the refreshing water.

“Now,” Katara said, placing a hand on Zuko’s bed beside him, “what were you thinking!? Jumping in front of lighting!? Why!?” She nearly screamed, making Zuko jump at her outburst.

Her eyebrows were knitted with confusion, and her eyes were watery. She quickly dragged her palm against her eyes to make sure no tears spilled. Zuko finally got a good look of her face. Her nose and waterline were a light shade of pink, meaning that she had probably been crying earlier.

Zuko swallowed hard, he didn’t know how to properly convey his emotions through words, there was little he actually knew how to do through words.

After a few long moments of the two of them looking at each other, Zuko finally spoke.

“It was the honorable thing to do,” he affirmed with a sharp nod of his head.

Katara’s mouth gaped open, then closed, then open again. Her eyebrows knitted closer together as she took in Zuko’s entire figure.

“You’re lying,” she said after ten seconds.

“What?”

“You have a tell. You’re lying.”

Zuko was not lying. Why Katara beloved such a conspiracy was beyond him. He scoffed at her and crossed his arms.

“Tell me the truth!” She pleaded, searching for answers on Zuko’s face.

Zuko watched her with his one good eye. She seemed so distraught, it was a horrible position to see Katara in.

But he wouldn’t back down.

Deep down, Zuko knew he wasn’t telling the entire truth. He knew he was giving excuse after excuse, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow him to say anything more.

“Zuko, please! You could have died. You don’t just sacrifice your life for someone because it was the honorable thing to do, that’s stupid! God, you’re so stupid,” she yelled, pacing around Zuko’s new room.

“Fine, then I’m stupid. I’m one big block of stupidity. Does that satisfy you?”

“No!” She nearly screamed, “why did you do it!? Why would you kill yourself for me?”

“Because I love you, Katara!”

Silence.

She looked at Zuko’s face and her eyebrows finally relaxed.

They kept their positions, staring at each other for what seemed like hours.

Then, under her breath, Katara mumbled something incomprehensible.

“What?” Zuko softly spoke.

“I said that you’re so horribly stupid,” she nearly cried as she ran up to him and pressed her lips against his.

Zuko’s eye widened in surprise at her gesture, then he closed them, leaning into her touch.

When she finally pulled away, she staggered back.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Zuko felt himself cut her off as he laughed at her outburst.

“What are you doing,” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’m stupid,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued, “I must be the dumbest person in the world.”

Katara smiled as she walked back towards him.

“Me too,” she chuckled as he lightly grabbed her head and pulled her into another kiss.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #atla katara #katara #atla zuko #zuko #katara x zuko #fanfiction #zuko x katara #zutara fanfiction #fanfic

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mamayan · 1 year ago

Note

OK BUT what about sub Muzans daughter , Dom Genya..

Since I have so many requests for this…

Genya Shinazugawa x Muzan’s Daughter Reader!

cw: NSFW • Clichè Aphrodisiac Troupe • Consenting Blood Drinking • PIV Sex • Slightly Dom! Genya (more switch) • Dacryphilia (M) • Fem! Reader • Praise/Fluff • Oral (F) • Sugary Sweetness • Breeding Kink

“I expect nothing less than perfection. You’ve done well, child.”

“Thank you, my Lord, it is my honor and duty to uphold your expectations.”

Low.

You’re bowed low to the ground. Forehead nearly touching, so close it’s nearly indistinguishable from pressing your skin to the ground.

You don’t. Can’t. Even if death is threatened.

The aura surrounding him would make any lesser demon fawn and fall to their knees, but it only drove you wild. A call to your soul to destroy him and take his place. You hated him. The man who should’ve peacefully allowed you to marry off into a pristine family and be given a true chance as a human with happiness and children ruined when he turned you. Had you attacked and nearly slaughtered before acting as if he was bestowing a mercy and not a curse.

Your face betrays nothing. Sweet and serene as always because of your true emotions showed all your hard work would be for naught. You thought of your loyal servant Tamayo, her breakthrough and discovery which could change the tide of this cursed war. Then without your permission his face appeared.

You can’t think of him.

Despite not having a heart which worked as one should in a human, it still pained your chest to remember his face and the distance between you both.

Patience.

You must be patient and stay low, no matter how it irritated your pride like a nail in your soul.

You left, moving through the infinity castle with confidence none else beside yourself and Kokushibo possessed in this space. You kept Nakime in your peripheral, the disturbed demon not to your taste despite her blood art providing much assistance in your plans.

That woman cared little for loyalty. She just liked havoc.

“Ah~♡ The lovely lady is here? Akaza-dono, you didn’t tell me we’d be graced with her ladyships presence!” Your cool gaze slid over the upper rank two demon, Doma, who now stood before you and blocked your path. His dazzling rainbow eyes trained on you with a worship similar to how he looked at your father. You shared the same addicting blood after all.

“Lady,” Akaza was as formal as ever as he leapt from a high shifting platform, landing smoothly before you to bow slightly. You returned the polite gesture before looking back at Doma with a small smile.

“Doma-san,”

“Yes! My lady?”

“Do you like being beheaded? You must be a masochist I presume, since you continue to block my path.”

“Ah… right.” He swiftly moved, created a hole for you to move through, kimono dragging lightly on the ground as you passed with your smile in tact. The blonde male irritated you as well, his loyalty questionable a from all angles.

You left, being taken out to your previous location, a spacious estate given as a gift some thirty or so years ago.

Tomoya was present, her gentle smile and irritable little assistant all in tact which made you breathe an inner sigh of relief. Your father wants her dead, and you’re harboring her in secret. Your carefully placed house of leaves can be blown apart any moment, one wrong step could destroy you and all your plans.

It could destroy him.

“Ubuyashiki contacted me… mentioned a young slayer you’ve had… correspondence with is assigned a mission near the base of the mountains.” Tomoya was always soft spoken, gentle atmosphere a layer plastered to hide the true nature she kept swaddled. Her rage. She glance over as she works, a multitude more of glass beakers filled with liquids you didn’t question.

“Hn.”

“Not going?”

“No.”

“…May I ask why?”

“You may not.”

“I see.”

Your mouth twitched before you sighed, knowing she wouldn’t give up so easily. It was obvious how you doted on him, so there was little use pretending he meant nothing.

“I’ll check, nothing more.”

“Hn.” Her smile grew but you didn’t point it out, scoffing as you left in more of a hurry than you cared to think on.

He’s going to die.

This demon isn’t dying no matter how he blows its head off or slices it to pieces.

He’s been fighting for nearly two days straight, exhausted and fatigued to a point he may not survive if it continues any longer. He’s requested backup, but it may not come, and this demon’s blood is only making him more sluggish and it comes back for another swing at his jugular.

“Fucker—! Die!” He doesn’t stop though, because if he’s going to die then he’s taking this piece of shit out with him.

“Genya?!”

“Huh?” He turns at the wrong moment, and that’s his mistake.

He watches in amazement as you move swiftly, the demon he struggled to defeat lit to flames as if the sun was out and on it directly. His eyes look up, the sky covered by a thick blanket of clouds preventing even a tiny fraction of light through.

“Genya no!” He’s bleeding. Badly.

“Oh no, no it’s my fault, no sweet boy, look at me. Genya!” You look different. Less confident yet still beautiful. Are you crying? Can demons cry? He wonders briefly, eyes looking down but unable to move his body as you cradle him to your chest, blood is everywhere.

He’s going to die.

“No my love, look at me. Stay with me, okay?” He wants to speak, but his mouth feels wet and cemented shut.

You’re trembling. Or is it him?

“Okay. Let me think… okay, we’ll fix this, just stay with me alright?”

He wants to reassure you, tell you in all honesty he doesn’t regret dying in your arms, but his vision is getting fuzzy.

“I won’t let you die.”

He’s glad he gets to hear your voice in the end.

He’s burning.

Genya’s eyes shoot open, breathing picking up as he feels a building fire in his core, specifically his cock.

“Fuck—ah,” he groans, muscles twitching as he rolls to his side and looks around. He’s in an inn it appears, the silence thick as he surveys his body to check to for injuries.

None.

He’s still himself though, which means you must’ve fed him your flesh.

He’s never felt this before though, after consuming a demon.

“Good, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” A cool hand on his forehead jolts him from his thoughts, dark purple eyes looking up to your face as you smile so sweetly down at him, and the disgusting thoughts swirling inside him begin to bubble over.

“You see feverish still.” You murmur, forehead wrinkling as you lean in closer and Genya has to breathe through his mouth when he catches a whiff of something floral and sweet on you.

“Master…” he’s dying in a different way now, mind fogging over as he looks up and sees you.

It’s been months. How could you be here? Why do you smell so good? He’s itching to run out of his own skin, teeth aching because he wants to sink them into you, eyes watering as he realizes he’s going out of control.

“Genya? Sweetheart you don’t seem alright, what’s going on—oh?” He knows you allow it, your strength and power nothing to dismiss for even the strongest demon or slayer, but still you allow him to grip your shoulders and pull you into a tight hug. He’s nearly sobbing when you hug him back, arms wrapping around him and pulling him impossibly closer.

“Ma-Master I need—please, I need—,” you’re nodding with understanding as you lean back, smile still so sweet and caring as you look him over with complete adoration. He’s melting for it, gritting his teeth because the moment feels ruined but his straining cock isn’t listening to anything right now.

“I knew there’d be some kind of side effect, I just didn’t imagine it’d affect you like this.” He’s not listening, head hazy and eyes clouding over as he leans forward and kisses you, soft lips desperate for entrance into your mouth which he’s gratefully granted.

His hands are everywhere now, shaky and jerky as he yanks awkwardly at your kimono and his own clothing, trying to tear it from you both as his hips hump the air at nothing.

He needs to taste you. Needs you on his tongue with desperation he’s never felt. He might truly perish this time if he’s denied.

You’re soft in his arms, and for the first time he realizes you’re smaller than he thought. Sweet and caring despite how you’ve fucked him senseless, and remembering only drives him more crazy.

“Please—fuck, let me taste you.” Tears are already welling up in his eyes, features languid as his reddened face struggles to stay still, even as he shakes and clutches onto your robes.

“Okay, sweet boy, whatever you want.”

Whatever you want—

He gives up on his disheveled clothing in favor of pushing up your kimono only halfway opened, burying his face in your crotch much like the dog you enjoy calling him, lips immediately seeking out your warm heat. He moans at your taste, hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer with the intention of suffocating himself as he dry humps the futon, pre-cum wetting and staining his yukata placed on him. His hot mouth open and tongue flicking at the hidden pearl which has you moaning.

Your noises drive him more wild, eating you like a man starved. His nails digging into the fat of your hips, only leaving marks for a second before you heal.

“So good, fuck—,” he’s delirious and gone to the heat and haze of your blood and slick. He’d happily die only consuming the two for the rest of his life. He’s chanting your name as he slurps and messily swallows your slick, and he groans low in his throat when you tangle your fingers into the soft tuft of hair atop his head and yank him closer to grind on his face.

“Such a good boy, yes—you’re going to make me cum.” Your words only push him to work harder, tongue lapping and lavishing your clit while your orgasm washes over you.

He only stops when you force his head up, slick covered red face almost offended it’d been stopped.

“Enough. Don’t you want to feel better? Come here Genya.”

“Y-yes—,” he’s nearly falling over himself as he sits up and crawls over you, clothes tangled awkwardly around his legs but it hardly mattered since his cock was free and ready.

He came the moment he felt his tip glide through your soaked folds, body nearly seizing up as he struggled to breathe through such an intense release.

“It’s alright, you’re doing so good.” He whines as you brush the sweat soaked hair off his forehead, blurry eyes only briefly focusing on you before dropping down to his still hard cock.

It hurt. He wanted to cry because it hurt to physically not be inside you. You seemed to know though, encouraging him with soft words and gentle hands guiding him forward as he finally pressed forward and felt the tip of his cock breach the tight ring of muscle to your pussy. “C-cuming—ah, fuck, please let me cum, please—,”

“Cum for me sweet boy,” you kiss him.

He comes again, but you gasp in pleasure and delight when he merely surges forward to completely fill you, Genya’s fucked out expression lewdly on display as he ruts into you with an unset rhythm. His libido won’t tire it appeared.

He moans loudly when you clamp down around him, tightening up to watch his eyes roll back and drool slide down his chin. He cries though when you try to slow him, shush him quiet as he pumps his poor meat rod into your gummy walls with a more coordinated roll of his hips. Pretty tears glistening in his eyes despite the animalistic way he’s pounding into your body, trying to mold your inner walls into the shape of him.

“I l-love you—,” he’s not even in his right mind but he’s confessing. It amuses and warms you, only making you draw him in closer as he pants and whines losing himself inside you.

“You feel so good, Master, Y/N, I’m going crazy,” he’s slurring his speech, mindlessly fucking you until he’s begging to fill you again and again.

If you were human it might’ve been too much.

You aren’t though, and he’s still hard despite it all, only making a frothy mess of cum continuously being pumped into your pussy and spilling out over the sides when he stretches you out again.

“Go crazy then, fuck me harder.” He does, pressing forward and folding you up into a mating press where he pounds straight against your womb which he babbles about filling, panting and moaning like a dog in heat as he makes you cum before painting your insides once again.

He wakes the next morning with something akin to a headache, but alive nonetheless.

His eyes widen though when they catch you, naked beside him and gazing at him fondly.

“Did you have fun, pet?”

He feels something ominous in your words but he can’t quite pick it out.

“Y-yes…?”

“That’s good, because I’m very curious of the biological response you had to my blood. I’d like to run some more tests.”

Despite the almost polite way you spoke, he knew you weren’t really asking.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

#Yan answers #Genya Shinazugawa #Genya Shinazugawa smut #Genya Shinazugawa x reader #Genya Shinazugawa x reader smut #kny Genya #kny Genya smut #kny smut #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer smut

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letsgetrowdy43 · 3 months ago

Text

Take Me As I Come (Rowan's Version)—

Nico Hischier x Angie Chandler

Warnings: A lot of angst, some undersage drinking and partying, swearing, if you notice anything else please lmk!

Based on the song "Take Me As I Come" by Evan Honer and Wyatt Flores

Au Masterlist!

Another day, another regret, try to remember how the night went Oh, this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, tells me it didn't go well

Angie woke up to a harsh beam of sunlight cutting through the gap in the heavy hotel curtains. Her head throbbed with a relentless, pounding ache, and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She squinted against the light and groaned, slowly piecing together the events of the previous night.

The draft. The endless anticipation. The crushing disappointment.

It all kinda felt like a blur, it was two days fuelled by nerves, and then ending with the downfall of her dreams.

he tried to sit up but immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea swept over her. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she winced as she reached for it. "Congrats to all the draftees! The future of hockey looks bright!" read one of the many notifications that flooded her team's group chat.

She threw the phone back onto the bed beside her, the notifications a cruel reminder of what she'd lost and what she would never accomplish. All of her best friends had been drafted in the past two days. She remembered the moment vividly: Jack's name being called, the roar of the crowd, the tears of joy streaming down Ellen's face. Angie had clapped and cheered, forcing a smile as her next teammate was called, and then another, and then another, and so forth.

She was proud of her boys, but it still felt like the world was quickly collapsing around her.

After that, everything had become a blur of congratulations and celebrations. The league had thrown the families of draftees a party and Angie had been pulled into the center of it, the designated best friend, expected to share in their joy.

She’d taken shot after shot, each one a futile attempt to drown her sorrow. The night devolved into a haze of loud music, laughter, and her own silent despair which ultimately led her to now, in pain both physically and mentally, staring at the roof of a hotel room she was even sure was hers.

"Angie, are you okay?" Trevor's voice startled her from her thoughts as she looked to the other bed in the room that was crowded with a hungover Jack, Trevor, and Cole, all still clad in their draft jerseys. "Yeah, just... so happy for you guys," she’d lied, her smile filled with hurt.

Angie dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the remnants of last night. The girl staring back at her in the mirror looked as broken as she felt, red-rimmed eyes, tangled hair, and a vacant expression.

She needed to get out of this room, out of this headspace.

★★★★

Lost a couple of my friends, and in the morning try to mend Can't fix what's in pieces for my selfish reasons, tryna run from myself

Angie lay in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room was dark, the air seemed thick, and the curtains were drawn tight to block out the sunlight.

Days had blended into nights in a haze of grief and self-pity. Her phone lay discarded next to her, the battery almost dead from lack of use. She had ignored countless calls and messages, isolating herself from the world outside.

Her body ached from inactivity, her muscles stiff and sore. She knew she needed to get up, to do something, anything, but the weight of her disappointment kept her pinned to the mattress.

this was truly peak bed-rotting.

The draft had been a week ago, but the heartbreak felt as raw and fresh as ever. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the names being called, and felt the sting of her own failure, she could've worked harder, could've pushed herself to be better, be better at interviews, and be more welcoming like all of her teammates.

In a moment of restless boredom, she picked up her phone and scrolled aimlessly through social media. Highlights from the draft, celebratory posts from her friends, and news articles all seemed to mock her failure. She switched to YouTube, hoping to find something to distract herself. As she scrolled through recommended videos, a familiar thumbnail caught her eye, one of her interviews with ESPN, her shy smile next to Jack's bright one staring right back at her as she chewed her lip with anxiety.

Angie hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen as she thought back to that fateful day.

That Angie was pathetically naive.

She remembered that interview, how excited and hopeful she had been. The reporter had asked her about her dreams, her journey, and her expectations for the draft.

She clicked on the video, and her own face appeared on the screen. She looked so young, so gullible. The Angie on the screen was full of optimism, talking about her rigorous training schedule, her supportive family, and how much it meant to her to be on the brink of her NHL dream.

It was such a load of bullshit.

People must have watched this and laughed at how hopeful she had been, how big-eyed and almost greedy she was to think that she was worthy of achieving the unimaginable. her heart crushed a little knowing that this version of Angie would never get to have her moment, never get to be the best, or even amongst the bests.

"I've worked so hard for this moment," she heard herself say. "I know I have what it takes, and I'm just so grateful for the opportunity."

Angie felt a wave of nausea as she watched. How could she have been so sure of herself? How could she have believed that everything would go perfectly? She had been so confident, so certain that her name would be called. It was almost laughable now, seeing how wrong she had been.

She shut her phone off, unable to stomach another second of humiliation, that video was a whole life time ago, she was not that Angie anymore, that version of Angie had never felt the pain of not being good enough before. This current Angie had felt that hell, and to think that she could go from so hopeful to so crushed felt so morbid.

★★★★

I let a lot of people down, they're not surprised this time around They say I'm a ticking time bomb, way too fucking far gone to probably get some help

Angie was startled as Quinn burst through the door of her room, his brows furrowed with worry as he walked up to the window and ripped the curtains open. "Shouldn't you be at the rink," she groaned as the light hit her face, rolling over to be face down into her mattress. "You be at the rink as well," he said with a snappy tone and a face of concern.

He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the bed beside her. The mattress sank under his weight, and she rolled into his side for comfort as they lay there for a second of silence.

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "Dad's been asking about you," he said, his voice gentle, "Jimmy misses your face around the gym, he's been complaining that his favourite girl isn't there to show all the boys up." Angie closed her eyes, the mention of Jimmy pulling at her heartstrings.

Jimmy had been like a second father to her, always pushing her to be her best, always believing in her when she didn't believe in herself.

The thought of him missing her stung deeply.

But the thought of lacing up her skates and never being considered worthy of being the best stung even more

"I don't know, Quinn," she whispered as her hand played with the bracelet on his wrist, one she had given him as a souvenir after her first U18 Woman's Worlds, her voice barely audible, "I don't think I'm cut out to be a failure, its all too much for me." Quinn turned to her, his expression unreadable as he shook his head, "you're not giving up. You've worked too hard, and come too far to let this setback define you."

Angie shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes trying to stop the burning, "I don't even know where to start. I've lost all my confidence. I can't face them, Quinn. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be so naive and thousands of people got a front row to witness it?" Quinn sat up, leaning over her so she would look him in the eyes "Listen to me. You're one of the strongest women I know. This... this is just a bump in the road. But you need to get out of this bed and start moving forward before you're stuck in this rut forever."

She let out a sigh as she pushed his face out of her line of view, a smile on his face as he watched her lips turn up into a grin at the sight of him hanging off the side of her bed.

"Promise me you'll try?" he asked, standing up to finally leave for the rink. She nodded as she sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, "we'll see," she pressed her cheek against her knee as he mumbled a quick goodbye followed by an apology for his short visit before he left to head to training. With that, Quinn left the room, leaving Angie alone with her thoughts again.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as she saw the caller ID, "Jimmy".

With a shaky breath, she pressed the phone to her cheek and answered, "Hey, Jim." "Angie," Jim's voice boomed through the phone, warm and a little surprised at the quick response, "what's going on, kiddo?"

Angie swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill over, "I'm sorry, Jim. I just... I don't know if I can do this anymore." "You are not a quitter Ange," he said kindly, the sound of skates on the ice slowly disappearing as he headed into one of the dressing rooms for some privacy, "you've got a hell of a lot more fight in ya', and so much more hockey to play."

Angie took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of the old fire reignite within her, "I don't know where to start. I feel so lost." "Start by getting up," Jim said, "come back to the gym. Let us help you get back on track. You're not alone in this, Angie. We’re a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she listened to the hope in his voice, "Okay, Jim. I'll be there tomorrow." "That's my girl," Jim said, pride evident in his voice. "We'll see you then."

Tomorrow, she would face the world again. She wasn't done yet.

★★★★

Take me as I come, or don't take me at all I'm gonna let you down, I'm gonna lead you lost

The University of Minnesota's hockey arena buzzed with the energy of pre-season training. Angie walked through the doors, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement. It had been months since she had felt this way, a spark of anticipation that she had almost forgotten.

The door to the girl's locker room creaked open, and Angie was greeted by a chorus of voices and laughter. The University of Minnesota women's hockey team was in full swing, getting ready for their first practice of preseason development camp. The air was thick with friendship, and for the first time in a long while, Angie felt excited.

"Hey, you must be Angie Chandler!" a girl with long brunette hair and half of her gear on said, stepping forward with a bright smile. "I'm Taylor. We've heard so much about you." Angie smiled back, though her nerves still tingled. "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you."

The rest of the team gathered around, each one introducing themselves with genuine warmth. A wave of relief washed over Angie, this was gonna be good, these girls didn't look at her with pity or judgement; they looked at her with admiration and curiosity.

"We've been dying to meet you," another girl, Amy, said. "The trainers have been bragging about you for weeks. Says you're the best player they've ever seen." Angie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as her smile grew shy, "they're just being nice." "No, seriously," Taylor chimed in, "We've all seen the highlights. You're incredible. We've all been talking about how cool it is that you're joining us."

Angie couldn't help but smile as she was pulled into a hug by two of her teammates before they showed her where her locker was. The acceptance and praise from her new teammates felt like a balm to her wounded spirit. For so long, she had felt like an outsider, her place on a team had always been conditional, with the expectation of being the greatest, her confidence shattered by the draft's rejection. But here, among these girls, she felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in months.

As they chatted, Angie found herself opening up, sharing stories about her experiences, the US boys, her training, and even sharing a little about her draft. The girls listened, asking questions and expressing their admiration. They made her feel welcome, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was part of something bigger than herself.

★★★★

Darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, Burn every bridge I've known

Angie laid in her bed, phone pressed up against her ear as she listened to Quinn's rambling on the other end. Her muscles were sore from practice, but it was a good kind of sore, the kind that reminded her she was moving forward. However, Quinn’s voice on the other end brought back a wave of frustration.

"Have you talked to Jack?" "Briefly," she mumbled as she flipped through her notebook, "I kinda snapped on him so we haven't talked since... I'm a shit friend"

Quinn let out a sigh, "your not a shit friend, maybe a little Hotheaded, but he understands, you're both going through changes right now," Angie bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't know, he’s struggling, and instead of being supportive, I just made it about me." "You're only human," Quinn said softly, "you’re allowed to feel hurt and frustrated. But you need to talk to him, clear the air."

sometimes Quinn was too kind for his own good.

"He misses you, you know." "I miss him too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s just hard to hear about his struggles, knowing that could've been me. It's like a constant reminder of what I lost." "I get that," Quinn replied. "But Jack looks up to you, you're his best friend, and he needs your support, even if things didn’t go the way you planned."

Angie closed her eyes as her hands rubbed small circles into her temples, "I know. I just... I feel so angry all the time. It’s like I can't control it anymore." "You’ve been through a lot," Quinn said gently. "But you’re stronger than all of this."

She sat there tears in her eyes, silence settling between them as she wiped her tears and let his words really sink it.

★★★★

Another night, another mistake, and I wound up at the same place In a cheap hotel room with the parking lot view, still not sure where I am

If there was one thing she learned in her first year of university it was that parties were fun in moderation, but too many made the nights blur into her days and it all felt a little mind-numbing.

Her lips pressed against some random guy, the only things she had learned about him being that he was a pledge in the frat that was throwing the party she was currently at and that he was majoring in business psychology. His kisses were rough, his poorly grown mustache kinda scratchy, and his hands pinching a little too hard at the skin of her hips.

She pulled away, head spinning as she watched his face pull into a frown, “you okay?” His hands found her shoulders to steady her as her eyes glazed over with drunken haze. “I don't know,” she mumbled, wiping the beer taste from her lips as his hands kept her grounded, “I need to go home.”

She pulled away from him without another word heading towards the door but not before he followed right after her, “you can't walk home alone," his hand reached out for hers, but she pulled away and walked even faster. “I'm fine, I'm not interested in you coming to my dorm with the intention of fucking me, I don't even know you,” she stated not even looking back at him.

“Thats not what I'm trying to do!” “I'm fine!” she yelled out as she left him on the lawn watching with a concerned look on his face as she stubbornly and drunkenly headed in the direction of the university.

She miraculously made her way back to her dorm unharmed and in one piece, her head spinning and tears brimming her eyes as she collapsed on her bed. Her gaze landed on the photo of her and Jack huddled around a campfire, it was 4th of July the summer going into senior year and life seemed so set at that time.

Her lips trembled as the palms of her hands dug into her eyes, trying to stop the tears before they started. She hadn't spoken to Jack in weeks, the last time they had called she yelled at him for complaining about hsi rookie year. She was loosing everything, loosing herself to a rejection that happened months ago.

Her phone vibrated as a notification, Jack had liked the spam post she had posted a few hours prior on her finsta. The account a little photo album of her life that was only shared with the closest of friends.

She stared at the notification and then dialled Jack's number, her head beginning to pound as the effects of the liqour began to wear off. Without giving herself time to overthink it, she dialed Jack's number.

He picked up by the second ring. "Ange?" "I miss you and I'm sorry for being a bitch," she blurted out, her voice cracking.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Jack spoke, his tone gentle as he listened to her ragged breaths, "Angie, it's okay. What's going on?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to find the words. "Everything's just so messed up, Jack. School, hockey, the media... I feel like I'm drowning, and ive ruined our friendship by taking it all out on you." "Hey, take a deep breath," Jack said softly, "I'm not going anywhere, you were upset and i know you didnt mean it. Just talk to me."

Angie took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself as she laid an arm over her eyes to block her vision, needing the room to stop spinning, "I thought I could handle it all, you know? But it's just too much. And I pushed you away because I didn't know how to deal with everything." "I get it, Ang," Jack replied, "You've always put so much pressure on yourself. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you, no matter what."

His words were a soothing to her nerves, and she felt a bit of the tension in her chest at ease, "I just... I miss how things used to be. Before everything got so complicated. I miss michigan and living with you and getting to see you everyday." "Me too," Jack admitted, "but we're still us."

A fresh wave of tears spilled over as she heard the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you, Jack. I really needed to hear that."

They talked for a while longer, Angie pouring out her heart as Jack listened. He shared stories from his own life, making her laugh and reminding her of the bond they shared. By the time they hung up, she felt more grounded, more like herself.

As she lay back down, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Jack.

"Always here for you, Ange. Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

★★★★

I left my heart in the car, and I parked it real far So she wouldn't notice or ever gain focus, of who I am

Almost a year and a half had passed since that night, and life had gotten a little easier as time went on, but the scars of the draft still remained, a distant memory that she couldn't seem to shake.

She was now a junior at the University of Minnesota, and her life had taken on a new rhythm. The demands of college hockey, coupled with the growing media attention around her breaking barriers in the sport, had kept her busier than ever.

But tonight, she was trying to take a break from it all.

She was gonna have a boy over.

She sat on the edge of her bed in her dorm room, laughing at something a boy named Aaron had said. They had met in one of her elective classes, a painting class they were both taking for some art credits, and he seemed genuinely nice, a refreshing change from the usual attention she received.

He took her out for a nice dinner, opened all the doors for her, and even paid for their meal, and now they were lounging around in her dorm. Laughter filled the air as he shamelessly flirted with her, tucking her hair behind her ear and whispering about how pretty she was before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

A look of an unwanted question took over his expression as he stared at her for a second.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinks for a second, "I'm trying to figure out where I've seen you before, I feel like I've seen your face even before this semester" Her cheeks redden as she brings her knees up to her chest, cheek pressed against her leg. "I don't know what you're talking about," she laughs a little nervously as he squints, obviously picking up on the uncomfortable energy between them.

"You just look so familiar," Aaron insisted, his brow furrowing as he tried to place her, "Wait a minute... You're the Angie Chandler, as in the girl who tried to break into the NHL but didn't get drafted?"

Angie's stomach dropped.

She had hoped he wouldn't recognize her, that for once she could just be a normal college student without the weight of her past hanging over her.

She forced a smile. "Yeah, that's me." "It all makes sense now," he let out a laugh, "I remember watching that video of you after the draft, and thinking about how pretty you were," he said it so casually as if that wasn't the most traumatic moment of her life.

Aaron's expression shifted to a mix of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Must be tough, huh? Being good enough to get all that attention but not quite good enough to make it." Her heart sank, and she felt a surge of anger, "excuse me?" He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the impact of his words. "I mean, it's gotta sting a little, right? All that hype and then... nothing. That's some deep shit."

She already knows that. She lived through the humiliation

Angie stood up from her spot on the bed, her eyes flashing with anger, "You need to leave." "What? Angie, come on. I didn't mean it like that." "I don't care how you meant it. Get out."

Aaron stood up, confusion and annoyance on his face. "Fine. Whatever. I was just being honest." "Get out!" she yelled, pointing to the door.

He left without another word, the door slamming behind him.

A dramatic exit for a man who had just unburied a feeling that she had spent a long time trying to cover up.

Angie stood in the middle of the room for a moment, her chest heaving with emotion as the heels of her palms dug into her eyes to stop the stinging of tears. She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Not for someone like him.

★★★★

And take me as I come, or I'll take me at all Gonna let you down, gonna lead you lost

Angie remembers every single second and feeling of the moment she got called up to the league.

The feeling of sitting next to her roommate, the two of them working on their sports management presentation as her phone began to ring in her jeans pocket.

She remembers the furrowing of her brows as she looks down at the random number on her screen.

The shakiness of her voice as she finally answered the call.

how she had hesitated for a moment before answering, a quiet "Hello?" followed by a "Hi, is this Evangeline Chandler?" a professional-sounding voice asked. "Yes, this is she." "Ms. Chandler, this is Tom Fitzgerald from the New Jersey Devils. We’ve been following your progress and would like to discuss a potential opportunity with our organization. Would you be available to come out and meet with us later this week?"

Angie's heart skipped a beat at the offer, she sat up straight, her eyes wide with disbelief as she elbowed her roommate, "Are you serious?" "Absolutely. We believe you have a lot of potential here and we’d like to see if you’d be a good fit for our team. We’d like to fly you out this Thursday to discuss this in more detail."

Angie was at a loss for words.

She looked at Taylor, who was watching her with a curious expression, clearly sensing something big was happening.

"Um, yes, I can definitely come out. Thank you so much for this opportunity." "Great. Our team will email you the details shortly. We look forward to meeting you, Ms. Chandler." "Thank you. I look forward to it too." Angie hung up the phone, her hands trembling. She turned to Taylor, her face a mixture of shock and excitement as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

she needed to call her parents, to call Wllen and Jim, to speak to everyone who had helped her get to this point in her life

"What is it?" Taylor asked as she ditched the project sitting in front of them.

Angie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, "That was the New Jersey Devils. They want to fly me out to talk about a potential spot on the team." Taylor's eyes widened, and then a huge grin spread across her face before she flung herself into Angie's arms, "Oh my God, Ange! That's incredible!"

"I know!" Angie practically shouted, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. "I can't believe this is happening!" Taylor pulled back, holding Angie's shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "You deserve this. You've worked so hard, and you're amazing. This is just the beginning."

Angie looked down at her phone, her screen blowing up with texts from Quinn, Luke, and Jack.

Angie felt tears of joy welling up in her eyes, "I don't even know what to say. I'm just... so happy."

She especially remembers how spent the next hour calling her parents, the Hughes', and the coaches she was still in touch with. Angie was finally accomplishing her dreams, and there wasn't a person out there who she wasn't gonna tell, she needed people to know she was truly enough.

★★★★

And darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, burn every bridge I've known

Amanda Stein, the Devils’ dedicated reporter, had seen many players come and go through the organization. But today was different.

Today, she was sitting down with Evangeline Chandler. The first woman to be seriously considered for a spot on the New Jersey Devil's roster.

The excitement in the air was palpable as she set up her equipment and prepared her notes. Angie, as she preferred to be called, was an extraordinary athlete with an inspiring story.

Angie walked into the room, her nerves carefully masked by a determined smile. She wore a sharp, professional outfit, yet her eyes held a warmth that made her instantly approachable.

Amanda stood up to greet her.

“Hi, Angie. I’m Amanda Stein. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Hi, Amanda. The pleasure is mine,” Angie replied, shaking her hand firmly before taking a seat.

Once they were both settled, Amanda turned on the recorder and smiled reassuringly at Angie. “Let’s just have a conversation. I want to hear your story.” Angie nodded, taking a deep breath. “Sounds good. Where should we start?” Amanda glanced at her notes briefly. “Let’s start with the last few years. I know they’ve been a rollercoaster for you.”

Angie laughed softly, nodding. “That’s an understatement. It’s been quite a journey.” “Can you walk us through it? From the draft disappointment to now?” Angie leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant for a moment as she recalled the past. “Sure. Well, not being drafted was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. I had put everything into preparing for that moment, and when it didn’t happen, it felt like my world had crumbled.”

She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I questioned everything—my abilities, my future, whether or not I even belonged in the sport anymore. But, as time went on, I realized that setbacks don’t define you. It’s how you respond to them that matters.”

Amanda nodded, her pen moving swiftly across her notebook. “How did you respond?” “I threw myself into college hockey,” Angie said. “I wanted to prove to myself that I still had what it took, and I just wanted to play more hockey. I worked harder than ever before, both on and off the ice. I also had an incredible support system—my family, friends, and coaches. Not to mention the girls on the team, they really had been my rocks while I was dealing with the come down from the draft. They never let me give up on myself.”

“And now, here you are, on the verge of potentially making NHL history. How does that feel?” “It feels surreal,” Angie admitted, her eyes lighting up. “But it’s also incredibly motivating. I know I have a lot to prove—not just to the Devils, but to myself and to everyone who’s ever doubted me. I want to show that I deserve this spot, and I’m ready to work harder than ever to make New Jersey proud.”

“What would you say has been the biggest lesson you’ve learned throughout this journey?” Angie thought for a moment. “Resilience. Life is going to knock you down, and sometimes it’s going to knock you down hard. But you have to get back up. You have to keep fighting and be willing to put in the work, no matter how tough it gets.”

Amanda nodded, sensing the passion in Angie’s voice, “What do you hope to achieve if you make the team?” “I hope to inspire others,” Angie said without hesitation. “I want young girls to see that they can achieve anything they set their minds to, regardless of the obstacles. I want to be a role model, not just in how I play, but in how I present myself both on and off the ice.”

Amanda smiled warmly, “You’re already well on your way to doing just that, Angie. Is there anything you’d like to say to the Devils’ fans?” Angie turned to the camera, her expression sincere. “I want to thank everyone for their support. It means the world to me. I promise that I will give everything I have to this team. I’m here to work hard, to learn, and to help bring success to New Jersey. Thank you for believing in me.”

Amanda closed her notebook and turned off the recorder. “Thank you, Angie. That was wonderful.” “Thank you, Amanda. I appreciate the opportunity to share.”

★★★★

And take me as I come, or don't take me at all I'm gonna let you down, I'm gonna lead you lost

The air in the Prudential Center was electric the night of her first game. Fans packed the stands, waving red and black Devils flags and cheering loudly.

Angie Chandler stood in the tunnel, her heart pounding in her chest. Tonight was the night she had dreamed about for years—her first NHL game.

And it wasn't just any game; it was against the New York Rangers, the Devils' fierce rivals.

Angie adjusted her helmet, trying to steady her nerves. She glanced over to Jack and Jesper, who smiled at her widely and gave her pats of encouragement on the head. She took a deep breath and skated out onto the ice, the roar of the crowd echoing in her ears as she completed her rookie lap, confidently waving to the crowd as she looked around at the thousands of people in the stands. The spotlight followed her, illuminating her as she took her position at center ice before the rest of the team came out behind her.

The game started with a fast pace, both teams eager to establish dominance.

Angie felt the adrenaline surge through her veins as she skated hard, keeping up with the intense speed of the game. This was unlike any hockey game she had ever played before. Her focus was razor-sharp, her eyes scanning the ice for any opportunity to make a play, to prove herself.

Midway through the first period, Angie found herself in a pivotal moment in the game. Jack passed her the puck from the blue line, and she intercepted it cleanly. She glanced up, seeing an opening. With a burst of speed, she charged towards the Rangers' net, her stick handling the puck with precision. The defensemen closed in on her, but she deked around one, then another, and found herself one-on-one with the goalie.

Time seemed to slow down.

Angie took a quick breath, pulled her stick back, and snapped a shot. The puck sailed past the goalie's glove and into the top corner of the net.

The red light flashed, and the crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. Angie's teammates swarmed her, their faces lit up with excitement.

She had scored her first NHL goal.

Jack slammed her into the board a grin on his face as an excited cheer left his mouth as he hugged her before another teammate slammed into the side of them, and then another, and another, before all of them headed to the bench.

This is what she was meant to be doing with her life, she thought to herself as she came back to reality and looked around at the rowdy crowd. This was worth the fight.

★★★★

Darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, Burn every bridge I've known

The first season had been a whirlwind.

Many ups and downs, many media dilemmas and challenges, but also so many amazing memories. This was a dream that she wasn't willing to wake up from.

The New Jersey Devils had made it to the playoffs, and though they didn't win the Stanley Cup, Angie’s contributions were undeniable.

The off-season had arrived, bringing a much-needed break which meant in just a few short days she be back in Texas with her parents for a few weeks, then Europe for a short vacation, and then back to Michigan for training.

But for the time being Angie was in New Jersey, giving back to the hockey community for the last time in her rookie season. Today she was at a community event hosted by the Devils, where fans could meet their favourite players, get autographs, and take pictures.

As she stood near a booth, signing autographs and chatting with fans, she noticed a little girl in a Devils jersey standing off to the side, clutching a poster of Angie. The girl looked shy, her eyes wide with admiration as Angie smiled and waved her over.

"Hi there! What's your name?" Angie asked as the girl approached hesitantly. "I'm Lily," the girl replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's nice to meet you, Lily. Would you like me to sign your poster?"

Lily nodded eagerly, handing over the poster and a shiny gold Sharpie, Angie signed it, adding a little heart next to her name. She handed it back to Lily, who beamed with excitement.

"Thank you!" Lily exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten. "You're my favourite player. I want to be just like you when I grow up."

Angie felt a lump form in her throat. She knelt down to be at eye level with Lily, her heart swelling with pride and emotion. "That's wonderful, Lily. Do you play hockey?" Lily nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I'm on a team, and I play forward, just like you. I want to be as good as you someday."

Angie smiled warmly as Lily slipped one of the friendship bracelets on her wrist and handed it over to Angie, "that's amazing. Keep practicing, work hard, and never give up on your dreams." Lily's eyes sparkled with determination. "I will! My mom says you're a trailblazer. What does that mean?"

Angie chuckled softly as she ran her fingers the her hair, "It means that I'm one of the first to do something, and hopefully, it makes it easier for others to follow. I want to show girls like you that you can do anything, even if it seems impossible." Lily nodded, her expression serious. "I'm going to be a trailblazer too, just like you."

Angie felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, she reached out and gently squeezed Lily's hand. "I know you will be, Lily. And I'll be cheering you on every step of the way."

Lily threw her arms around Angie in a spontaneous hug, catching her off guard. Angie hugged her back, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment.

This moment.

This connection made everything worth it—the challenges, the setbacks, the hard work. She had inspired someone, and that was the greatest victory of all.

#neveragodau!!#nico x angie #nico hischier x reader #new jersey devils x reader #nico hischier #jack hughes x reader #nico hischier x oc #quinn hughes x oc

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