#I’m just complaining (as per usual)
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the-irrelevant-trumpeter · 11 months ago
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if i see ONE MORE rude comment about renée rapp in the mean girls musical movie i am going to SNAP
#‘regina’s supposed to be skinny and it doesn’t make sense if she’s not so they should have cast someone else’ SHUT UP!!!#SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!#WHO THE FUCK CARES!!!!!#i hope once it comes out all the people who are hating on her (and her body) are fully gagged when they hear her sing#that will be MY revenge party#anyway they really did everyone in the cast dirty by not marketing it as a musical#because now everyone is simply comparing them to the og movie cast#instead of recognising that it’s a different format which requires different skills and they aren’t trying to directly replicate the og#anyway renee rapp ily <3#also she isn’t the only one who has been getting hate but she’s the one with the most i’ve seen#i saw someone be like ‘no offense to the actress but the point of cast is that she’s really attractive but doesn’t realise it#so this actress just isn’t it’#which is crazy because like. angourie rice IS attractive. wdym.#they’re acting like she looks hideous or something#and as per usual there’s people complaining about janis and karen and damien’s casting and it being an effort to be ‘woke’#anyway. i’m excited for it to come out i don’t even care.#like my expectations aren’t the highest#just because i think they could have gone WAY more exciting with the costuming and stuff#and i’m mourning some of the songs that got cut#but honestly idk i think it’ll be a fun time#this has been much longer than i was expecting but it’s fine#*edit: my phone autocorrected ‘cady’ to ‘cast’
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chiefguideandcentre · 1 year ago
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Crazy to me how humans have literally made life so difficult for ourselves for no reason at all. Like why do we have to pay for water monthly when it literally falls from the sky? Why is a super simple one bed, one bath “house” (cheaply made of course) easily between $250k-$400k and someone would have to pay a high monthly payment with a 20% interest rate to have it? Why did we choose these numbers? When did we make prices for food so high, create mortgages, student loans, and car payments? Who created interest rates? Why does my entire future depend on a credit score? A number we ourselves made up. Why did we go the extra mile and decide to tax ourselves? For what purpose? When did we decide that we need to have a certain level of education to succeed and if you don’t have it you are obviously a failure at life. When did we say “yes, this seems good, I want to pay astronomical amounts of money for literally everything and make everything as stressful as possible for no reason at all?” Why do I owe money for having money (taxes)? Why can’t I pay for stuff with rocks? That cat I see sleeping in a warm beam of sunlight (and living a happier life than I) doesn’t have a credit score, it doesn’t have to pay extreme amounts of money for a home, it doesn’t have to pay for water that falls from the sky, it doesn’t have to worry about interest rates, it doesn’t know what the Pythagorean theorem is, it doesn’t have a car payment, a set of tires doesn’t cost it easily $1,000 in one go, it didn’t make applying for a home or a car an exhausting endeavor, it doesn’t have to work 40+ hours a week working on stuff that we made up all for a check that doesn’t even reasonably cover any expenses (that once again we forced on ourselves). So why are we?? Why can’t we help ourselves out and make rent $10 a month? Why can’t a good credit score be a 10 instead of 700-800? Why can’t a mansion be $10,000 instead of a million? Let’s make grocery shopping easier by trading cool rocks and pieces of clay pottery and buttons and other neat things for food. What’s stopping us from doing that? Why did we create the most complicated system? “The entire system would collapse, there would be anarchy, everything would shut down, society would explode!!!” Why?? Over numbers and problems we made up ourselves? It’s all made up!! Why did we make it so hard? We could have made things so easy and have a perfectly workable society. We could have the most bonkers system and could all be schooling life right now if we paid for stuff with pretty things we find in abundance and made houses cost like one pretty vase and a loaf of bread you bought with your cool acorn stash and made cars only cost a packet of tomato seeds with no interest rates in sight, didn’t make the production of goods and supplies so expensive, and if we simply didn’t tax ourselves, and if education/the school system was literally just learning all sorts of things that could help you live a happy, self sufficent, simple, productive life the way you want to live it (if you want to learn about history, languages, how to work on cars, or build robots, or cooking, or music, making pottery, or conducting science experiments, learning about medicine, or playing sports or whatever you could do so) and it wouldn’t cost you your first born child, and if we didn’t have mind numbing jobs trapped in windowless buildings doing things that shouldn’t actually matter or exist but we made them so. Why did we make it so hard??
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thursdayg1rl · 1 year ago
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Really trying not to get angry at my sister for always forgiving my aunt and talking to her as if nothing happened after every one month long silent treatment..
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urhoneycombwitch · 11 months ago
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k 
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
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foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
____
By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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lowkeyremi · 5 months ago
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WATERMELON !
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You’re not quite sure how you got here, but you aren’t complaining at all. The atmosphere is just so light and silly and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Loud laughter leaves your lips, “babe, I’m telling you! that thing is way too big!” Atsumu had somehow convinced you to get this big ass watermelon, because he saw some guy break a watermelon with his thighs. Of course your boyfriend wanted to try it too.
“Are ya doubting’ me?! My thighs are huge, I’ll break this thing in a coupla’ seconds. Now start recordin’!” He’s sat on the porch outside, because you told him there’s no way in hell you’ll be cleaning watermelon out of the carpet.
The watermelon is snug between his thighs and he waits for you to give him the go ahead to crush it. Yes your boyfriend is a professional athlete, but you still think a watermelon is a bit of a crazy stretch.
“Is the camera on?” He asks impatiently, you can’t recall a time your boyfriend had been patient for more than five minutes.
“Oh my gosh be patient!” He sighs over dramatically as per usual while waiting for you to get the camera in focus.
“Okay here we go. I swear if you pull something I’m not covering for you. I bet Sakusa will get a laugh from this.”
“Omi has a stick so deep in his ass i don’t think anythin’ could make ‘em laugh.” He remarks with a smirk.
“Got that on camera.”
“What? He already knows!” Atsumu shakes his head focusing at his task.
You watch from behind the phone as he strains to crush the watermelon for few seconds. You’re rendered speechless when the watermelon actually starts to crack slowly.
Watermelon juice slowly starts to seep down his thighs and into the red shorts he’s currently wearing.
“Oh shit watermelon juice is gettin’ in my underwear!” He complains like it wasn’t his idea to do this.
“Nobody told you to crack open a watermelon with your fucking thighs, babe.” He glares at you when you start to snicker.
His attention is taken away from your teasing when the watermelon cracks open all the way and the juices, seeds, and watermelon gush all out into his thighs and mess up his shorts.
“Holy shit I’m gonna be sticky later.” He mumbles, finally seeing the stupidity of this challenge.
“That’s what you get for being an airhead.”
“Hey! I’m yer airhead n technically this is yer fault too. Ya didn’t stop me from buyin’ it.”
“Maybe I didn’t stop you, because I wanted to see how strong your thighs are.”
“Ya know how strong they are. Ya practically use me as yer personal chair every chance ya get.” You turn off the camera, slipping the phone into your pocket.
“Alright my whiny little baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m a fuckin’ professional athlete, ain’t nothing about me is little or baby like.”
“Atsumu. I literally have a video of you clinging to me for your life while cuddling.” He scoffs but his ears turn red which means he remembers.
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i miss himmmmmm
©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌��� All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
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athenamikaelson · 15 days ago
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 22
Word Count- 12.8k
Warnings-swearing, violence, mentions of bad parents, alcoholism, Mikeal and his abuse, self-loathing
Soulmates. What the hell are soulmates? Well, obviously I know what the definition of a soulmate is but what the hell does it mean in the supernatural world? Neither of the two Salvatores that drove me home last night were very chatty about it. 
“Fables is what it is, Y/n.”
That is all Demon told me last night when he walked me to my front door. After I watched the two brothers drive off I stayed up for hours, actual hours, 5 to be exact, pacing my room waiting for Elijah to keep good to his word and come see me to explain what the hell happened tonight. But with the morning light streaming in my bedroom window, I realize that once again holding a man to his promise is never something I should do.
— 
I stare blankly at the multiple unread text messages and missed calls from Elena. All morning she’s been trying to call me but right now I don’t have the energy to handle whatever she wants to talk about, especially since it’s probably something that everyone else knows and I’m the last one to find out, per usual. 
When I haven’t been staring at my phone, I’ve been staring up at my white ceiling, replaying the events of last night in my head over and over again. Last night when I was up waiting for Elijah I researched everything I could possibly find on soulmates. But the more I read the more I started to freak the fuck out so I had to stop that for my own sanity. Which is ironic because I honestly don’t think I have any sanity left in me to spare. 
“Damn, you look like shit,” Theo’s obnoxious voice comes from an open doorway.
“Leave, Gremlin,” I groan as I grab a pillow and hold it over my face.
“Nope, sorry,” I hear his voice and then the pillow is ripped away from me, “Your depression is stinking up the house and I don’t need it affecting me. So get your ass up. We’re going clubbing.”
I move nothing but my eyes as I look at my brother. 
“We live in Mystic Falls. Where the hell would we go clubbing?”
Theo thinks to himself for a moment before tapping his chin, “Alright. Good point. See this is why we work, you're the brains,” He points to me, “And I’m the beauty.” 
“Leave me to rot,” I groan and try to reach for the pillow and he swats my hand.
“Back, demon! Listen, get your ass up I’m hungry and I’m going to give you the honor of buying me lunch,” Theo declares like this is some great prize I’ve won.
“No thanks,” I grab my blanket and cover my face with it.
A moment later my blanket it being ripped off of me, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, I swear to the heavens above I will grab the garden hose and drench this entire room and yourself with it if you’re not in the car in 5 minutes,” Theo glares at me and then leans down and picks at a piece of my hair with disgust clear on his face, “Actually make that 10 minutes, you need to kick whatever family of rats is living in that mess you call hair.”
I go to complain but Theo shushes me, “I mean it! I’ll get the goddamn hose!”
I watch Theo dramatically stomp out of my room and I let out a sigh.
“I hate you,” I say to my brother as he holds open the door to The Grill for me.
Theo sends me a sweet smile, “No one could hate this face.”
I roll my eyes and begin to walk to an empty table when I notice Caroline and Elena sitting together at a table in front of us. 
Shit. 
I try to blend into the crowd but my obnoxious brother ruins that.
“Elena! Hey, Elena,” Theo’s voice booms throughout the restaurant and I instantly try to make myself as small as possible when I notice people turning to look at us. 
“Theo, stop,” I hit my brother in the stomach but he just grabs my hand and pulls me along.
We get to the girl's table in no time, thanks to Theo’s sprinting, and Elena instantly sits up in her seat when she sees me.
“Hey, Y/n,” Elena smiles softly at me and I nod my head at her and then send a smile to Caroline.
“I’m sorry about your Dad, Caroline. Damon told me this morning,” I say softly to her and she nods.
“Thanks, Y/n. And I was going to tell you myself but I just forgot,” Caroline reasons, and Stefan’s words from last night come barreling through my head. 
“Y/n?”
I shake my head clear and then try to pull a smile on my face, “Ya, totally. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ve tried to call you,” Elena tries to get my attention and I don’t meet her eyes.
“Ya, I forgot to charge my phone last night,” I lie and she looks at me as if she’s not sure she believes me. 
“Oh, okay. Um,” She goes silent for a moment before gesturing to the table, “Would you guys like to join us? We’re talking about the Mikaelson’s throwing their weird ball. Their mother invited me personally because she wants to speak to me about something.”
At Elena’s words, I frown in confusion, “Who are you talking about? Who are the Mikaelsons?”
“Wait! A party?! There’s going to be a party,” Theo’s practically jumping in place as he looks wide-eyed at the two girls. 
Elena looks at me confused for a second before lowering her head, “The Originals. They’re the Mikaelsons. We got invites this morning to attend their ball tonight,” Elena frowns sadly, “Did you not get one?”
A tightness in my chest builds at her pitiful look and I am sent back to my childhood when I would be the only kid in class who never got an invite to any of the other kid’s birthday parties. 
“Naw, we haven’t got anything,” Theo chimes in for me and I feel and lower his hand to wrap his pinky around mine, “Yet. But like honestly even if we do get invites, which we will because anyone who doesn’t invite the Y/L/N siblings are losers, we probably won’t go,” Theo says and looks at his nails as if the conversation is now boring him.
Caroline raises an eyebrow, “Why not?’
I can see Theo look over to me and then back to Caroline, “We’re going clubbing.”
I release a deep sigh at my brother’s words. 
“You guys are going clubbing?”
Caroline and Elena share a look and then I can see Elena look up to me, “And you agreed to this?”
I look down at Elena and an annoying wave of embarrassment washes through me. Even though I know they’re not judging me right now there’s that back part in my brain telling me they know someone like me isn’t cool enough to do anything like that, which is why I agree. 
“Yup. It’s how we bond,” I say, nodding and glancing at my nails. Mimicking my brother who I can see from the corner of my eye, has a huge grin on his face.
“So, are you two going to this dance?” I try to act nonchalantly. 
Caroline shakes her head, “Hell no! It’s some twisted Cinderella fetish is what it is. And Klaus only invited me to piss off Tyler.”
Klaus. Invited her.
“Klaus?”
My voice comes out pathetic, weak, and strangled and I feel Theo squeeze his pinky against mine. 
“Ya, he sent me a dress and everything,” Caroline says dramatically as if she doesn’t notice my change in demeanor, “It’s totally weird. Also,” Caroline looks at Elena, “Why does the evil witch want an audience with you?”
“Evil witch?”
Theo and I say in union and Elena looks up at us, “That was who was in the last coffin. The mother that Klaus killed…actually not so dead.”
I blink at what she says and feel my breathing speed up.
Elena looks back at Caroline, “I have no idea. There’s only one way to find out.”
Caroline sighs, “I thought you told Damon and Stefan that you weren’t going.” 
Great so it seems everyone knows about this dance.
Elena nods, “I did, which is all the more reason why I need a drama-free bodyguard.”
“Well, I think a Salvaotre would look a lot better in a tux, and by that, I mean Stefan.”
“Fuck that asshole,” Theo snarls catching Caroline and Elena off guard. 
“Theo, language,” I warn lightly but honestly don’t care enough to chastise him much.
Theo shakes his head defiantly, “Hell no. Elena, you can’t be seriously thinking about getting back together with the man who threatened to kill you and your best friend?!”
Theo’s uncharacteristic outburst seems to startle both of the girls and Elena shakes her head, “No, of course not. I can’t deal with any of the Salvatores right now. Whatever Stefan’s feeling, he’s channeling it all against Klaus and Damon… it’s not a good idea.”
Theo nods his head seemingly accepting her answer but as I stare at him something in his eyes tells me he’s not 100% convinced. 
Caroline and Elena converse for another moment about Elena kissing Damon and I can’t help but feel like nothing more than a fly on the wall again, just like I did last year and every year before. 
“Hey,” Theo leans down to whisper in my ear, “You good?”
I don’t meet my brother’s eyes because if there’s anyone in this world who could point out my lies it’s him so all I do is nod.
“Careful Y/n, Caroline, and Theo. It’s all well and good until she stabs you in the back,” A feminine British accent has me lifting my head and the sight of Rebekah surprises me. 
“What are you doing here? I know your mom’s rules. No hurting the locals,” Elena accuses.
Rebekah glares down at Elena, “Get over yourself, Elena. It’s not all about you,” Rebekah tells her and begins to walk away but stops when she gets to me.
“Meet me outside in 5 minutes would you, luv? I want us to have a little chat,” Rebekah smiles at me and I for some reason find myself nodding. 
All four of us watch Rebekah walk off over to Matt. Rebekah pulls out an envelope from her purse and hands it to the blonde boy. 
“Even the busboy got an invite,” I can hear Theo practically snarl under his breath. 
“Oh my God,” Caroline gasped, “She’s inviting him to the ball. Why is she inviting him?”
“Probably to get this reaction from us,” Elena says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Or maybe she just wants a date,” I say under my breath and I hear Theo chuckle from beside me. 
Caroline huffs in sits back in her chair, “What time is this stupid dance?”
At Carolie’s words my heart plummets. I’m not entirely sure why. I mean who cares that she was invited by Klaus? Was gifted a dress by Klaus. Is going to dance with Klaus. I mean who cares right?!? Not me!
“We’re leaving,” I mutter to Theo grab his hand and begin pulling him.
“Wait,” I hear Elena call to me and I sigh, “You’re not actually going to talk with Rebekah, right?” I shrug my shoulders and stare at her annoyed, “Why wouldn’t I?”
Elena looks at me like I’ve grown two heads, “She’s evil, Y/n! You can’t trust her,” Elena tries to reason and I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. 
“Coming from the girl that quite literally stabbed her in the back.”
Elena blinks, shocked at my words. 
“Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m not acting like anything, Elena. I’m just relaying the information that has been told to me. Just like everything else that happens in this town,” I smile at her sarcastically and then turn around grabbing Theo’s hand. 
“We’re leaving.”
—-
“Damn, woman,” Theo says as I pull him out the door into the parking lot, “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”
I shake my head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I deny and Theo comes to stand in front of me with his arms crossed. 
“You can pull that denial shit with anyone else in this town, except me bitch. You and me, came from the same womb so that technically means we can read each other’s minds. So whatever you’re doing,” He raises his eyebrow, “This self-sabotaging thing or whatever it is, you need to let me in.”
I stare at my younger brother and feel tears rush to my eyes. Theo must see them because the stern look on his face quickly turns to fear.
“Oh shit, tears,” He quickly shakes his hands, “Please don’t cry! I don’t know how to handle tears,” He shakes his head, “Other than my own!”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
My question seems to catch my brother off guard as he frowns, “What? Like your fashion taste? Sister we’ve already established this.”
I shake my head and push away from him, “Never mind, God, just forget it.”
“Hey,” Theo pulls me back by my shoulders so I’m facing him, “I’m sorry, okay? You know I can’t do emotion without humor and sarcasm. But, why the hell would you ask me that? Did someone say something,” Theo’s concerned eyes turn to ones filled with anger, “Because if someone did I’m going to kill them.”
I just shrug my shoulders, “It doesn’t matter. I already know the answer.”
I begin to walk over to the car but Theo once again stops me, “Hold on for a second and talk to me! Why the hell would you ever think something is wrong with you?”
I look at my brother and clench my nails into my palm, “Because there has to be,” I almost cry out. Feeling the tsunami of emotions I’ve been holding in for the past few weeks rush forward, “There has to be a reason why people don’t choose me. Why my whole life I’ve always been on the outside looking in. Watching everyone live their lives happy and free while all I do is watch and hope that one day someone will notice me watching and ask me to join. I need there to be a reason because if there’s not then…”
Theo watches me with a heartbroken expression, “Then what, Y/n?”
I wipe a stray tear off my face, “Then there’s nothing I can change. And it means that it’s just me,” I point to myself defeated, “That I was just born this way. Born to watch everyone else be the main characters in my own life.”
I stare with blurred vision up at my brother who looks defeated as he shakes his head.
“Y/n, no one thinks that about you. And I promise everyone feels that way every once and a while it’s normal,” My brother’s soothing voice only frustrates me more.
I shake my hands, “You don’t get it, Theodore! Other people may feel this way every once and a while, but,” I shove my finger into my chest harshly, “I feel this way all of the time!”
“Y/n?”
I turn to see Rebekah staring at me confused, and I quickly wipe the tears off my face. Rebekah’s face drops as she watches me and she instantly rushes towards me.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt,” She asks me look a mother coddling her child. 
I shrug her away and nod my head feeling numb again, “Fine. Don’t worry about it,” I look at Theo grab the keys out of my pocket, and throw them to him, “Drive yourself home. I’m going for a walk.”
I turn around and can hear them calling after me but I don’t turn around. 
Why the fuck did I walk?
Why the fuck did I throw a goddamn temper tantrum. 
God, can I be normal for five fucking seconds!??
These thoughts run through my head over and over again until I realize I’ve made it to the Salvatore house. Which is still about a 15-minute drive, or a one-hundred-hour walk to my house. Fuck me. 
I’m about to continue walking when a flash of red catches my eye. 
I eye the car that Stefan tried to kill me in for a moment and then shake my head, “No, I couldn’t.”
I take another few steps and then feel a cramp in my thigh. 
“Fuck it.”
I speed into my driveway and a laugh escapes my mouth.
I just stole a car. I JUST STOLE A FUCKING CAR.
I laugh to myself like a crazy person as I shift it into park and get out of it. I stand there admiring the stolen vehicle until I hear footsteps behind me.
“I see you’ve acquired a new vehicle,” Elijah smiles at me kindly and I fight the urge to punch him.
“I stole it,” I bite and walk past the Original and up my porch.
“Stole it?”
“Yup, stealing is when you take something that isn’t yours. Pick up a dictionary,” I snarl as I try to put my key into the lock but with my shaking hands I just keep missing.
Elijah is quiet for a moment before I feel him next to me, “Here,” He extends his hand, “Let me.”
I shake my head and keep trying, “Screw off.”
“Excuse me,” Elijah’s tone comes off as somewhat surprised and a little irritated. 
“Telling someone to screw off means they don’t want you around,” I mimic my tone from before and I hear Elijah sigh.
“You’re upset with me because of last night,” He says out loud as if it’s some fucking revelation. 
I finally get the key into the lock, unlock the door, and then open it. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I step inside and try to slam the door in his perfect face but it gets stopped by his perfectly polished designer shoe. 
“Elskan,” Elijah nudges the door open against my weight and I glare daggers at him.
“Stop calling me that,” I bite and he furrows his eyebrows. 
“Please, let me explain,” He tries to reason with me and I shake my head.
“There’s nothing to explain. If you think last night is the first time I’ve ever been let down by a man, you are horribly mistaken. Now leave me alone.”
Elijah's free hand doesn’t move from the door and I realize he’s holding a big white box with his other hand.
“I understand you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. I hate breaking my word, most importantly when it comes to you. I just hope you’ll listen to me now when I tell you how sorry I am,” He says earnestly and I glare at him.
“You’re sorry?”
Elijah nods, “I never intended to stand you up last night but there were…complications.”
I blink at him unimpressed, “Ya, you’re dead mother isn’t dead. Whoopty fucking doo.”
Elijah’s posture stiffens for a moment, “You know?”
“I’m the last one to find out it seems, but ya I do. So I’m sure mommy dearest wants you home for your little ball or whatever so why don’t you get off my porch and go home, Elijah Mikaelson,” I snarl his last name at him and he frowns.
“I understand you need some time to think,” Elijah nods his head and brings the white box up, and gestures for me to take it, “I’ll be at my family's ball tonight. I would be incredibly grateful if you would join me?”
I blink at his question and try to fight back any emotions other than anger. Elijah nods when he realizes he’s not going to get an answer right now and then places the box on the porch swing next to us.
“I hope to see you tonight,” Elijah gives me one last look before walking off the porch.
You won’t. 
He will. 
FUCKING THEODORE.
“I fucking hate you,” I glare at my little brother as I put on the stupid diamond necklace Elijah gifted me. 
Theo, who stands next to me in front of my mirror smirks, “You’ll thank me later.”
I shake my head as I struggle to latch the necklace, “Hell to the no.”
Theo tightens his tie and then rolls his eyes, “Whatever,” He shoots me a look and then laughs, “Here let me help you.”
I glare at him but still let him take the necklace and latch it behind my neck.
After he latches it Theo’s eyes stay on the huge diamond necklace that adorns my neck. 
“How much do you think that cost?”
I look at the huge statement diamond that hangs in the center of a dozen tinier diamonds holding the necklace together. I feel the weight of the diamonds, against my chest and cringe.
“Too much,” I look at the huge off-white gown that is encrusted with lace and crystals that I’m wearing and pinch the bridge of my nose, “This is all too much.”
Theo smirks and straightens out his black suit jacket, “Elijah may be a scary old vampire, but you got to give him some props,” He gestures to my dress, “The guys got great taste. And expensive too,” He points to the matching diamond bracelet on my left wrist, “After today you can pawn the necklace and bracelet, make bank, and then you and I hit Vegas.”
I turn and glare at my brother who smirks at me, “Not happening. We’re going to this stupid dance and then tomorrow morning I’m returning all of this crap and never talking to any of the Mikaelsons again.”
I watch Theo nod slowly and raise an eyebrow, “Rrrrrighttttt. Sure, okay. Um, how exactly do you plan on doing that? Also, I thought you and Rebekah were friends?”
I sit down on my bed and strap on the nude heels that were also in the huge white box that carried everything Elijah gave me.
“I’ll,” I stop and blow out a breath, “I’m going to….”
Theo snorts and nods, “Ya, you do that, nerd.”
With a huff, I stand up and take a step to grab my shawl but I let out a squeal when I trip over myself and bump into Theo.
Theo grabs my shoulders and pushes me upright and then dusts off his jacket, “Dude, walk much?”
I roll my eyes and throw my shawl over my shoulders, “I don’t wear heels!”
Theo purses his lips, “Cleary, hoe.”
I shoot him a glare, “Tell me why I’m letting you drag me to this again?”
Theo instantly smiles brightly at me and throws his arms over my shoulder pushing me down the hall, “Because you got personally invited by one of the hosts, and it would be rude to not go.”
I turn my head and shoot him a look and he smirks.
“Ok, maybe I don’t really care about him. But, come on! It’s a party and if we don’t go people will talk about how we were the only ones in town not invited!”
I shake my head as Theo opens the front door, “But we were invited?”
“Technically, you were invited. My invite must’ve gotten lost in transit,” He says confidently to himself, “And also people won’t know we were invited unless we go. And we need a night out. Too much shit has happened and we need fun.”
I go to argue but Theo shushes me.
“Nope. No complaining,” Theo then looks down at Stefan’s red car that is still sitting in our driveway, “Also, where the fuck did that come from?”
I cringe and close my eyes, “I kind of…stole it away from Stefan.”
I open my eyes and cringe as I look at my brother’s mad face.
“Are you serious?!”
I cringe at his yelling, “I’m sorry, okay? I was worked up and mad at the dick so I-”
“Bitch! I’m not mad at you for stealing the damn thing,” He gestures wildly at the car, “I’m mad that you stole a fucking car without ME!”
I blink and then shake my head, “I’m sorry. Next time I steal a motor vehicle, I’ll alert you first. Alright?”
Theo wipes a non-existent tear off his cheek and then nods, “Fine. But I get to drive there.”
I shake my head, “Hell to the no.”
“Oh, so you’re going to drive in those,” Theo asks and points to the heels I’m wearing and I frown.
“Fine. But, if you hit anything it’s on you.”
Theo hit 3 mailboxes. Ran a red light. The car no longer has a front fender. 
“Well,” Theo opens my car door for me and I step out shaking, “That was…fun.”
My eye twitches as I look at my brother furiously and outstretch my shaking hand. Theo doesn’t say anything but nods his head in defeat, placing the car keys in my palm. 
“Never again,” I growl.
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” I whip around to the car that now has no fender, a broken headlight, multiple dents, and an uncountable amount of scrapes, “Okay, ya. Never mind that one is on me.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in and out, and feel Theo grab my arm.
“But at least we look good as fuck. Our parent’s gene pools do it again,” Theo says happily and then stops and cringes, “Sorry.”
I shake my head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know… the fact that we don’t have the same father so your gene pool isn’t his gene pool,” Theo explains and I have to take another deep breath.
“Sarcasm, Theodore. I was being sarcastic.”
“Ohhhhh,” Theo nods and guides me up a huge staircase to the massive mansion that is covered in lights and beautiful decorations. 
We stop as we wait behind three rows of couples and I feel my hand start to shake.
“Hey, it’s all cool,” Theo smiles down at me and I wish for even a second I could believe him. 
“Next!”
Theo and I walk up to the security guard and he holds out his hand, “Invite?”
I look over to Theo expectantly and he does the same to me, “Please don’t tell me you left it at home?”
Theo shakes his head, “Bitch, it was your invite?!”
“But you’re the one that wanted to come!”
“Listen,” The guard catches our attention, “If neither of you have an invite I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” He says and points to the parking lot.
“Sir, my sister was personally invited by the Elijah Mikaelson,” Theo states and the guard rolls his eyes. 
“Ya, I’m sure she was,” He says sarcastically, “Now leave or I’ll have you escorted off the property.”
“That won’t be necessary,” A British voice says and I look up to see the light-brown-haired younger brother of Klaus and Elijah. Kol.
Theo shoots me a look, “Please tell me you didn’t bag, another one!”
I glare back at him, “Shut up!”
“They’re with me,” Kol tells the guard and reaches out an arm for me to take. 
I stare at him cautiously for a moment before I hear people behind me start to express their annoyance. 
With my free hand, I grab Kol’s right arm, while still holding on to Theo with my right arm. 
Kol smirks down at me as he leads Theo and me into a huge ballroom, brightly lit with candles and twinkling lights, “My family can be quite dramatic with these things,” I look up at him and try to not notice how attractive yet another Mikaelson sibling is, “But, with our whole family back together again, our mother thinks it calls for a celebration.”
“How rich are you guys,” Theo asks bluntly and I jab my elbow into his stomach.
Kol smirks at him, “Very rich.”
I hear Theo mutter something about rich bitches under his breath and I try to not laugh. 
“Thank you for helping us get in,” I say quietly to Kol and he shrugs.
“No worries. I thought I’d get to you first before the wolves descend,” He says nonchalantly but I can feel myself shake again at his words.
Kol must notice this because his eyebrows furrow, “Why are you doing that?”
I shake my head, “Doing what?”
Kol raises an eyebrow, “You’re shaking and your heartbeat is incredibly loud,” He says as if the noise annoys him.
“She has anxiety dickhead,” Theo bites at the vampire and I thrash my head over to my brother. 
“Theo! Don’t be a dick!”
Theo shrugs and eyes Kol, “He’s the one making you feel bad for something you can’t control. How are you a thousand years old and not know what anxiety looks like?”
I cringe in pain when I feel Kol’s grip tighten on my arm.
“Theo,” I pinch my brother’s arm, “Please go get us some drinks, non-alcoholic.”
Theo glares back at me like I’m crazy and quickly shakes his head, “No, I’m not leaving you alone. Definitely not with him,” He points at Kol and I inhale a quick breath.
I turn to look at Kol, who is looking at Theo as if he wants to rip him in two.
“Theo,” I bite harshly, “Go. Now.”
Theo’s expression drops as he turns his attention back towards me. He must noticed the nervous look on my face because he lets out a sigh and nods his head.
“Ok,” He looks at Kol once more, “I’ll be right back.”
I watch with bated breath as Theo walks away and disappears into the crowd.
“Friend of yours?”
Kol’s tense voice makes me tense. 
I turn and look at him and see the dark gleam in his eyes.
“My little brother,” I say equally as tense, “Try anything and I’ll steal one of those fancy daggers from your asshole brother and stab you myself.’’
Kol and I watch each other for a moment before he slits his eyes and hums, “If you were anyone else I’d rip your ribs out and stab you with them…but since I don’t want Nik or Elijah daggering me again and locking me away for another one hundred years,” He looks down at me and smirks, “You don’t have to worry about you coming to any harm from me.”
I stare at Kol with wide eyes and rip my arm out of his hold and he raises an eyebrow and smirks at my movement. 
“I notice you didn’t mention my brother in that,” I turn to stand and glare at him, “I may not be able to stab you myself but trust me when I say this, for some reason, Klaus and Elijah don’t like it when I’m upset and people who make me upset,” I pause and think back to Klaus threatening Stefan, “and someone harming my brother would really make me upset.”
Kol stares back at me and after a moment he nods, “If you keep this attitude up, you’ll fit in just fine with my family.”
I furrow my eyebrows, “I want nothing to do with your family.”
Kol smirks as if what I just said was the funniest thing he just heard, “Oh Darling, you don’t have any choice in the matter anymore. Fate’s already picked you.”
I shake my head confused, “What the hell is everyone talking about?! What the hell does fate have to do with anything and what the hell is a fucking soulmate?”
Kol’s eyes widen slightly, “Women never swore as much as you do before I was daggered.”
I glare at him and he laughs, “My brothers say I’m not allowed to tell you anything,” He pauses and shrugs, “Actually they said I’m not allowed to even approach you.”
I look at him and groan in frustration. 
“But when have I ever listened to what my brothers say,” I look up and find Kol smirking devilishly at me, “What do you want to know, Darling.”
I feel a weight lift off my shoulders at the idea of finally getting answers.
“What is a soulmate?”
Kol nods to a waiter passing by and grabs two glasses of champagne, he gestures for me to take one but I shake my head and he shrugs. Then he downs both of them.
“Let me give you the shortened version because I’m sure my brothers have already smelt you when you entered the house, so I’m sure they’ll be finding you soon,” Kol makes a show of looking around the room and then back to me, “Soulmates mean different things in different cultures…but, in your case soulmates mean someone who is bound to you forever. Someone who is a part of you, someone who is you.”
I shake my head not understanding what the hell he’s talking about. 
“There’s not much understanding behind what this means in the supernatural world. There’s been much speculation, but what I do know is that when we were turned, our souls were ripped out. That human part of us was taken away…but it had to go somewhere.”
I shake my head and laugh in denial, “So what, you’re saying that I have Klaus’ and Elijah’s souls in me?”
Kol sighs and taps his chin in thought, “Ya. Pretty much.”
I let out a laugh at his joke.
“That’s really funny. It's good to know you didn’t lose your humor while in your coffin,” I smirk.
My smirk starts to slowly fall though as Kol doesn’t laugh with me. 
No fucking way. 
“You’re not joking are you?”
Kol’s smirk drops, “I honestly wish I was, Darling. I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy.”
“Elskan?”
Of course.
At the sound of Elijah’s voice, I let out a sigh and turned to see Elijah pushing through a few guests to walk over to Kol and me. 
“Oh, fuck me,” I say under my breath and I hear Kol giggle.
“Don’t say that too loud, or my brother will take that as a request,” Kol gests and I stare wide-eyed at him which makes him laugh again. 
“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” Elijah says as he comes to stand in front of Kol and me. 
“I didn’t want to,” I say.
Kol laughs again and I see Elijah turn his attention to his younger brother, “Brother, it appears you’ve met the lovely Y/n Y/l/N.”
Kol throws a hand over my shoulder making me jump and cringe at the feeling of a stranger's touch, “Yes, we’re practically thick as thieves already.”
Elijah’s eyes darken and narrow as he looks at Kol’s hand that rests on my shoulder, “So it appears.”
I bite my lip as I wait for Elijah and Kol to be done with their glaring at one another. Or more like, Elijah glaring at Kol and the latter smirking. 
“Well,” I say interrupting them, “You two have fun…I’m going to go…anywhere else,” I turn to Kol who turns to me, “I would say it was nice to meet you Kol, but you are kind of weird.”
“Right back at you, Darling,” Kol says and smirks at me.
I don’t spare either man another glance as I try to push through the crowd away from them. 
“Y/n,” Elijah’s voice calls from behind me and I roll my eyes, “Please wait a moment.”
With a sigh, I stop and wait a moment for Elijah. It doesn’t take him but a moment to stand in front of me. 
“What?”
Elijah’s dark look is long gone and replaced with a smile, “You look positively breathtaking.”
I look away from him and nod, “Thanks. I mean you’re the one who picked out the dress so.”
“The dress, although beautiful, has nothing to do with the radiance that is you,” Elijah says as his eyes scour my face. 
I look at him and finally get to focus on just how attractive he looks right now. Y/n he always looks good. Shut up. He’s switched out his usual suit for a black tux that hugs his chest perfectly. His dark hair is styled expertly letting his beautiful face to be put on display.
“You don’t look horrible,” I shrug, “I guess.”
Elijah’s upper lip twitches and he nods, “Thank you, I think.”
Elijah and I stand staring at each other for a moment before he clears his throat.
“I’m glad you accepted my invitation to be my date,” Elijah smiles and uck in a breath.
“Sadly for you, my man,” I hear Theo’s voice come up from behind me, “She’s actually my date.”
I let out a sigh as I feel Theo wrap his arm around my arm and tug me towards him. 
I watch Elijah’s eyes narrow for a moment before he gives Theo a strained smile, “And you are?”
Theo smirks and puffs out his chest, “Theo Y/L/N. Pleasure,” He eyes Elijah, “I’m sure.”
I see the wheels turning in Elijah’s head and his shoulders seem to untense. 
“You’re Y/n’s younger brother. Am I correct?”
At Elijah’s question, Theo nods his head, “The one and only. And let me guess,” He puts his free hand on his hip, “You’re the man who showed up on my doorstep this morning begging my sister to not kick him to the curb. Am I correct?”
I stare wide-eyed at Theo in disbelief, and then back to Elijah.
The Original stares at my brother for a moment and I wait for the backlash.
“That would be me, Theodore,” Elijah smiles, and I raise an eyebrow, “But, I‘m not so sure what your sister has decided to do with me. At least not yet.”
Theo whips around to me, “Well? What are you going to do with him?”
My eyes widen and I switch my attention from Theo to Elijah, who also looks expectant on an answer. 
“Um,” I look between the two men and freeze. 
Thankfully, someone entering through the door pulls our attention. 
Not someone. Caroline. 
Caroline is wearing a light blue gown that makes her look just like Cinderella and beautiful as always. 
“Um, I’m going to go see Caroline,” I turn away from the two men and quickly begin to walk towards my blonde friend. For a moment I think she sees me as her eyes focus on something, but when I follow her gaze behind me I see her staring at…Klaus. 
Oh. 
Klaus, who looks absolutely earth-shattering, turns his attention from Caroline towards me and I feel my heart drop. The enlightened look on his face, the look he had when looking at Caroline, drops when he sees me. The blank look on his face makes a burning start in the back of my eyes and I quickly divert them from him.
With Elijah behind me and Klaus to my right, I quickly book it to my left, through a doorway, and run down a hall. 
I run until I meet a dark brown door and I throw it open and go inside. As soon as I close the door I lean my head against it, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. 
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” A British voice says.
“Fucking Brits,” I groan out and turn around.
The other Mikaelson sibling, Finn I believe, stands before me. His once long hair is cut shorter and he’s wearing a suit that matches his brothers. 
“You’re Finn,” I say and he narrows his eyes at me.
“Yes and you’re the soulmate,” He says annoyed.
I eye him and he eyes me.
 What the hell is up with the Mikaelson siblings and glaring? 
“Is this your room?”
Finn eyes me for another moment before nodding, “Yes.”
I nod and then wring my shaking hands together, “I’m sorry for barging in. I just… I couldn’t be out there. Around so many people.”
He doesn’t say anything and I nod, “I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”
I turn around and grab the handle.
“Wait,” Finn’s voice calls to me and I turn around, “You can stay. Just don’t touch anything.”
I look at Finn and then nod, “I won’t. Thank you.”
I slowly walk towards a couch and sit down careful not to rip my dress. I look up to Finn, who is standing in the corner of the room looking more awkward than I feel.
“Do you want to sit with me,” I ask gesturing to the other couch across from me. 
Finn looks up at me suspiciously and then shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. Mother wants me out with the others,” Finn says and then walks towards the door. 
“I’m sorry,” I say to him before he can open it. 
I see him stop, “You already apologized.”
I shake my head, “Not about barging in…About what your siblings did to you.”
I see Finn’s shoulders instantly tense up and he turns around with a glare on his face, “You have no idea what my siblings did to me.”
I reposition uncomfortably and then shrug, “I know that they left you in a coffin for almost your entire life or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never been daggered by one of my family members but…I recently was betrayed by some of my family,” I open and then close my mouth thinking of what to say, “So I just…I guess I know what it’s like to feel betrayed.”
Finn’s eyes drop and he looks away from me. I take a deep breath and then turn back to look at my hands. I wait for Finn to either leave or kill me for speaking out of turn. What I didn’t expect though was for him to walk over to the other couch and place himself on it with a sigh.
We sit in silence for a moment before he sighs again, “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be out there,” He looks behind me towards the door, “It’s too loud.”
I nod and then realize just how much worse it probably is for him than me. 
“This must be a lot for you,” I say and play with the diamond bracelet I’m wearing,
“Being away from civilization for so long, and now you have to get used to everything. I wouldn’t want to attend a party either.’’
Finn looks up at me and his face contorts into one of confusion, “You’re peculiar.”
I let out a low laugh, “Trust me, I know. Pretty much everyone does,” I say and take a sigh. 
Finn eyes me oddly for a moment, “What do you mean?”
I shrug, “I’m not a very popular person. At all. For some reason, people don’t like to be around me much. Not even my family it seems.”
I feel my face warm up at the embarrassment I feel for spilling all that to a stranger.
“You’re not the only one that feels that way,” Finn says breaking me out of my embarrassment. 
I look up to Finn and for a moment it’s like looking in a mirror. The sad look in his eyes is one I’ve seen one too many times when looking in my own mirror. 
“You’re not what I was expecting,” Finn says as he leans back onto the couch. 
I frown, “What do you mean?”
Finn eyes me, “You’re my brother’s soulmate. They’re both cruel and monstrous…yet you’re, peculiar.” 
I shake my head, “What does that have to do with Elijah or Klaus?” Finn nods his head, “They said you don’t know anything about your soul bond,” He says to himself, “With souls being connected, the soulmates usually share personality qualities…yet you don’t seem monstrous like either one of my brothers.”
At his continuing insult to Klaus and Elijah, tension builds in my shoulders, “Then you haven’t seen me in the morning,” I joke but Finn doesn’t seem to get it. Or doesn’t find it funny, “Klaus and Elijah don’t seem that horrible. I mean ya they do bad things but, if anyone were alive for one thousand years then I’m sure they would also pile up their own bad deeds.”
Finn seems to be annoyed by my answer as he huffs and goes to stand up.
“Do you have a soulmate?”
Finn stops moving in his tracks and instantly looks at me, “Why are you asking?”
I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know…Just wondering.”
Finn seems like he’s not going to say anything, but at least he sits back down.  
“I think once I did,” Finn’s voice comes out so quietly I have to lean forward to hear him.
“Before you were daggered?” Finn doesn’t meet my eyes but he nods, “Sage. Her name was Sage.”
I frown at his saddened voice, “You loved her?”
I sad smile forms on Finn’s face, “I did,” He pauses, “I do.”
I feel my heart breaking for the man before me.
“Was she human?”
Finn frowns, “She was. Until she had me turn her so we could be together,” He pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I was daggered shortly after.”
“And what happened to her?”
Finn’s jaw tightens, “Well, it was over 900 years ago…I’m sure she’s…”
I nod, sadly, “Right.”
We sit in solemn silence for a moment before an idea comes to me, “How are you so sure,” Finn looks up at me confused, “That she’s dead.”
Finn shakes his head, “She has to be.”
I shake my head as well, “Finn, it was 900 years ago. She would be incredibly strong, one of the strongest vampires to date. I would be surprised if she wasn’t alive and if she truly loved you, I think she would’ve waited for you.”
Finn looks at me and I can see the wheels turning in his head but he still shakes his head, “It’s not possible.”
I laugh, “Dude, werewolves, vampires, and witches exist. Nothing is short of impossible here.”
Finn stops shaking his head, “Even if she was…there’s no way I could find her.”
I stay quiet for a moment until an idea comes to my mind, “I have a friend. She’s a witch, a really good witch. Maybe…I could ask her and we could find her. All three of us.”
Finn stares at me for a long moment. 
“Why would you do that? Why would you do that, for me?”
I give Finn a soft smile, “I’m kind of peculiar.”
Finn’s solemn face changes for the first time since I’ve seen him. His sorrowful eyes look almost…hopeful now.
“I’d appreciate that. Greatly.”
Finn and I smile at one another until the door opening makes me jump.
“Finn,” A feminine voice says and I turn and see a blond older woman.
“Mother,” Finn instantly jumps up.
“Mother?!”
I jump up shocked and stare at the older woman who eyes me, kind of nastily. 
“What is going on here,” She asks Finn suspiciously and he pauses. 
“Um, Mrs. Mikaelson,” I say and she goes back to eyeing me, “Hey, Y/n,” I point to myself, “Finn and I were just discussing new-age technology. I heard he’s new to this era so I thought me and I could chat about it.”
I turn to Finn, “This was a good chat. Let’s meet…tomorrow. We can discuss how to send text messages.”
Finn eyes me oddly like he doesn’t know what the hell I’m talking about, but he still nods. 
“Great! Well,” I turn back to his mother, “Pleasure to meet you…I guess. I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Finn!”
I quickly speed-walk past both of them and exit the room. I close the door and take a deep breath. 
“Y/n?”
“Oh come on!”
I turn around to see Rebekah walking towards me. Just like all other Mikeaslons, she looks absolutely gorgeous. The green dress she’s wearing matches perfectly with her blonde long hair. 
“Are you alright?”
I nod and start to walk by her back to the party, “Peachy. Just happened to run into your mother. Tense lady.”
Rebekah walks up next to me and smiles, “Yes, my mother is an acquired taste. Don’t let her get to you though, you’re a part of this family.”
I shake my head viscously, “No I am not.”
“Yes you are,” She says as we enter the ballroom. An incredibly crowded ballroom. 
“Literally, am not.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” Rebekah laughs. 
We both watch the crowd of people dance, laugh, and talk. 
“My brother has been looking for you,” She says and I groan.
“Ya? Which one?”
Rebekah smirks, “Elijah, and Nik.”
“Well, I don’t want to see either one.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Rebekah smirk, “Unluckily for you, I don’t think you have a choice,” At her tone, I look over to her and she nods her head to her left.
I follow her eyeline and let out another groan at the sight of Elijah making his way over to us. 
“God it’s like he has a tracker on me,” I say sarcastically.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past either of them,” Rebekah replies. 
We both watch as Elijah approaches us with a content smile, “Good evening, ladies,” Elijah says with his perfect accent, “Rebekah, mother wants us on the staircase,” Elijah turns his attention towards his younger sister and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” Rebekah says sarcastically then turns to me, “It was lovely to talk to you, Y/n. We’ll chat soon.”
I nod silently and watch as she walks towards the staircase. 
“I’ve been looking for you,” Elijah’s voice makes me close my eyes.
“Doesn’t mommy want you on that staircase?”
Elijah’s jaw tenses and he rolls his shoulders, “Behave, Elskan.”
I purse my lips, “Don’t tell me what to do, Suit and Tie.”
Elijah’s tense expression lightens, “Suit and Tie?”
I shrug, “You have a nickname for me. I think it’s only fair I have one for you, as well.”
“Suit and tie,” Elijah says to himself as if he’s seeing how it sounds, “Hmm. It’ll need work, but it’s fine for now.”
I fight back a smirk at his words, “Fine. I’ll workshop it.”
Elijah and I stand there for a moment and I feel his gaze on me the entire time. 
“What did you and my younger brother talk about,” Elijah asks with a hint of skepticism in his voice. 
“Oh, nothing,” I look at my nails as if I’m bored, “Just the fact that I supposedly have your and Klaus’ human souls in me.”
I smirk as I watch Elijah instantly tense up, “My brother was told not to talk to you about that.”
“Well, no one else wanted to keep their word and talk with me about it. So, I’m glad he did,” I cringe, “Actually…I’m not sure. I still have no idea what the hell is going on.”
Elijah nods, “Once again…I apologize that I was unable to make it last night. You should’ve heard that from me and not from…Kol,” He says the name and I can clearly tell how pissed off he is at his younger brother right now. 
“But I did,” I harshly say, “And I still don’t have any clue what to make of it. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Elijah sighs, “I know, Y/n. And I promise you, that I will tell you everything you want to know,” His eyes travel behind me and he sighs, “Right after I deal with my family.”
I nod, “Elijah, your promises don’t mean anything until you start living up to them.”
Elijah sends me a saddened smile and nods, “And I look forward to doing that.”
I nod and with a final smile, Elijah walks up a grand staircase to meet his siblings. 
“Uh, if everyone could gather, please,” Elijah addresses the crowd of people standing below him and his family. 
As I gaze at each Mikaelson sibling I can’t help but hate them all for how hot they all are. Like seriously, the most supernatural thing in this town is this family's good looks.
Elijah stands before his family, confident and strong; Below him, walking up the stairs, Finn stands with a scowl on his face. Even with the scowl, no one could deny how attractive the eldest brother is; Rebekah who stands behind Finn is a bright light compared to her brother’s darker exteriors; Kol who stands at the top step chugging his bottle of champagne looks so boyishly handsome it could make even the most confident girl blush; and last Klaus. The bitch-ass hybrid stands in the middle of all his siblings as if nonverbally telling all of us looking up at them that he’s the one that deserves their utmost attention and respect. 
As if he could read my thoughts, the bastard’s eyes trail to me. The calculative look on his face doesn’t change as he stares down at me and I don’t care enough to hide the glare I know I have on my face. 
“Welcome,” Elijah’s voice calls my attention once again and I trail my eyes away from Klaus to his older brother, “Thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother,” Elijah gestures to the older blonde woman making her way down the steps and I hate to say it but she’s also pretty hot. A shitty fucking person, but pretty hot, “brings our family together like this, it’s a tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight’s pick is a centuries-old waltz so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner,” Elijah’s eyes land right on me as he talks, “Please join us in the ballroom.”
I debate on running away before anyone can ask me to dance but as I watch Elijah practically hop down the steps, dodge women trying to ask for his hand, all while having his eyes stuck on me I can’t help but only try to fight back the grin on my face. 
“Elskan,” Elijah gives me a smile that makes me want to curl up into a ball and scream, “I would be ever so delighted if you would join me for this dance.”
I look at Elijah’s outstretched hand and cringe, “I can’t dance. Let alone, Waltz.”
Elijah smiles blissfully, “Then let me show you.”
I bite my lip thoughtfully as I stare at him for a moment before relenting, “Fine,” I point at him, “But if I step on your fancy designer shoes I don’t want any complaining.”
Elijah’s smile doesn’t change as he chuckles, “I’d happily have all of my shoes ruined by you if it meant I’d never have to have a different dance partner again.”
I roll my eyes, trying to hide the fact that his words are making me lowkey freak the fuck out. So all I do is place my hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor where other couples are lined up. 
“I’m going to fall and make a fool out of myself” I whisper to myself as “Give Me Love” By Ed Sheeran starts playing.
“I’d never let you fall,” Elijah leans down and whispers in my ear and I gaze up to him.
“You’re pretty slick with your words. Y’know that right,” I joke and he shrugs.
“I’ve been told this once or twice,” He squeezes my hand and I’m glad the music is so loud because if it wasn’t I’d be sure every vampire in this room could hear how loud my heart was pounding.
Elijah guides me forward as the music starts and I try to copy the woman in front of me as she glides forwards. We turn forward, directly in front of Theo who is dancing with Mayor Lockwood and I let out a small snort. The glare on my little brother’s face shows that he doesn’t seem to find it as funny as me. 
“Wait,” I look over to Elijah only to find it already looking at me, “You said whenever your mother brings your family together you have a dance… that crazy lady has been dead for 1,000 years.”
Elijah smirks at my observation, “A little white lie never hurt anyone.”
I roll my eyes, “Says the man who can’t die.”
Elijah squeezes my hand and without warning he twirls me. Being caught off guard I trip forward but thankfully Elijah pulls me back into him and I grab onto his chest.
“See, I told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” Elijah, who stands a breath away from me, smiles.
“I hate dancing,” I say exhausted.
Elijah looks over to the other couples for a moment and I do the same. 
Elena and Damon are three couples away, engaged in whatever drama is paining them today. Rebekah and Matt are next to them, and I can’t help but admit how pretty they would be as a couple. My eyes continued trailing over other couples randomly; I stop when my eyes catch the light blue of Caroline’s dress. 
Caroline stands holding onto Klaus as they twirl around. They appear to be in the middle of a conversation and for some reason, all I want right now is to know what the hell they could possibly be talking about. I’d also like to know why the hell he invited her. I didn’t understand him. The man who one day grips my thigh like it’s his life source and the next won’t even spare me a glance. 
I feel Elijah squeeze my hand and I instantly feel horrible for thinking about another man while in his arms. 
“What’s plaguing your thoughts, my love?”
The nickname has me choking on my saliva, only making Elijah smirk. 
“You’ve really got to pick one nickname and keep with it,” I say trying to act more annoyed than flustered. 
“I’ve waited for you for too long to have my feelings confined to just one word.”
All reservations I had are now off the table as I stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. 
“Elijah…I,” I start but then a tightness in his lower jaw stops me.
“I’m sorry, Elskan. We have to change partners now. But, I promise we will continue this discussion,” Elijah says and with a pained look, he twirls me. 
I’m twirling until a strong hand on my lower back stops me, “Hello again, Darling.”
I raise an eyebrow at the youngest Mikaelson brother, “Hello, Kol.”
Kol seems to be delighted with my lack of enthusiasm as he swings me in his arms. Where Elijah kept a tight hold on me, Kol seems to have more enjoyment in flinging me around the dance floor. 
“So I’ve been thinking,” Kol says thoughtfully and I roll my eyes.
“Here we go.”
Kol rolls his own eyes at my comment but still continues, “So you need protecting, and I don’t want to end up with another dagger in my chest. So…we should team up.”
I frown at his words, “Who do I need protecting from? And why do you think I could stop you from getting daggered?”
Kol looks at me like I’m stupid, “Darling, please tell me you’re smarter than this.”
At my silence, Kol closes his eyes and sighs, “Bloody hell.”
Kol shakes his head, “Alright, you’re important to my brothers. This means their enemies are going to be coming after you; hence why you need protection. And to answer your other question…I’m willing to bet another one hundred years of my life daggered that if you were to bat those pretty y/e/c eyes at either one of my brothers they would move mountains to make you happy. So…”
At Kol’s expectant look, I nod in understanding, “If I tell them I don’t want you daggered…”
Kol nods happily, “Then I’ll stay handsome and perfectly unharmed.”
I consider about Kol’s words.
“You may have Elijah and Klaus’ protection,” Kol’s eyes go behind me to where Theo is dancing with Rebekah, “But your little brother doesn’t.”
I look at Theo who is currently talking a mile a minute with a smiling Rebekah. 
“Fine. You have a deal. You protect me, and more importantly, Theo, and I’ll back up. I don’t think Elijah or especially Klaus care enough to listen to me but I’ll try.”
Kol smirks devilishly but then frowns, “You’re joking right,” He must notice my confusion because he continues, “Bloody hell, you really don’t see how they look at you?”
I shake my head and Kol nudges his head to his left and I catch Elijah watching us with an intense look. I quickly look back to Kol and he raises an eyebrow.
“See?”
I shake my head, “Okay…maybe Elijah and I are friends…but Klaus doesn’t give a damn about me.”
Kol’s mouth drops open and I loud laugh escapes his throat, “Bloody hell, luv. You really are oblivious,” Kol shakes his head, “Let me just say this…I’ve never seen my bastard of a brother look at anyone the way he looks at you. It may not register in that thick skull of yours but it’s true. This whole world could be burning down and my brother would not let a single flame come near you,” Kol shrugs, “He probably was the one who started the fire but what I say still stands.”
I stare at the youngest brother with my mouth hung open and he laughs, “I’ve enjoyed trying to knock some sense into, Little Doll. We shall talk more about our deal later on… Good luck,” He smirks evilly, and without a moment for me to say anything back he thrusts me into another pair of strong arms. 
A strong masculine smell of something woodsy enters my nose and I breathe it in with a sigh. 
“I didn’t know if you were going to show,” That British voice that I know so well enters my ears and I let out a growl.
“Of course, it’s you,” I open my eyes to find myself in Klaus’ arms. 
Klaus gazes down at me and I shoot a glare at Kol who isn’t looking at me but has a smirk on his face, “That fucker.”
“Many people have the same reaction when it comes to my little brother,” Klaus says with a smirk and I just glare at him.
I turn away from him, look to my side, and watch the other couples dance around us. 
“Don’t ignore me,” Klaus’ rough voice calls to me and I turn to glare at him.
“I don’t care enough about you to even care about ignoring you. Let’s just get this stupid dance over with,” I bite and he glares back at me. 
“Fine with me,” He growls back.
“Good.”
“Good.”
We both huff and continue glaring at each other until his eyes fall down to my chest.
“Where is it?”
I glance down at my chest and shake my head at him annoyed, “Where the hell is what?”
“Your necklace,” He insists, “Where is it?”
I look down at my diamond necklace and then back up to him, “Are you blind? I’m wearing it.”
Klaus growls under his breath, “Not that one. The wolf one.”
I lean back in surprise momentarily, “Why do you care?”
“Because I want you to wear it,” He says as if it was obvious. 
“Why the fuck would you want me to…” I stop talking when the answer hits me like a truck. 
“It was…” I release my hands from his quickly and grasp my neck, “It was from you wasn’t it?”
Klaus tries taking a step towards me but with every step he takes I take one back. 
“Don’t come near me,” I shake my head and feel my breathing picking up. 
I quickly run through the couples dancing, not caring about messing up this stupid dance as I run through the doors and out into a low-lit garden. 
I run a hand through my hair taking out the little pins I had holding my hairstyles together and let my hair flow freely. I kick off my stupid heels and throw myself onto the grass, the cold ground calming my hot skin. 
I close my eyes letting out a deep breath and lay down, resting my head on the ground. I look above me to the bright moon overhead and the stairs that surround it. A wave of sadness washes through me as I look at it. I’d always related to the moon. Always felt like she and I were the same. Alone, even though they were surrounded by so many others. The brightly lit stars had each other, thousands of them to hold on to one another, but there was only one moon. Where the stars had their own light and color, the moon only shone because it had the sun shining on it. 
I close my eyes and let a small tear fall down my face. As I’m laying there I feel a warmth come next to me and place itself on the ground beside me. I don’t have to open my eyes to recognize who the owner of the woodsy scent is. 
“When I was a boy,” Klaus’ low voice fills my ears, “My father would beat me for never being the way he wanted. I could never hold a sword the right way, couldn’t hunt enough animals, I wasn’t man enough in his eyes. Even though I was surrounded by siblings, I never truly felt like one of them,” Klaus stops for a moment and I open my eyes to look at him. To my slight surprise, he was lying right beside me on the grass, his left arm lifted under his head and his eyes staring straight up at the sky, “The only time I felt like I belonged was when it was just myself and the moon. I’d spent most of my boyhood cowering, but…whenever I gazed up at the moon, I felt as though I was something greater. Better. It’s been over a thousand years and I still gaze up at her, remembering how that scared little boy held onto it like a lifeline.”
Klaus stops talking and we lay there together, staring up at the moon.
“I’ve been alone a long time,” I say softly and I can see him turn his head out of the corner of my eye, “When I was little, maybe 8 or 9 I’d cry to my mother asking her why none of the other kids wanted to be around me. She’d just tell me it was because I was too mature for them. I never really believed her though. When I was 10, my father started drinking,” I let out a sigh as the words came out of my mouth, “He’d get angry when he drank. He’d swear at me and my mother and do other stuff. He’d tell me that I deserved to be alone. That people like me…there’s something wrong with people like me. That went on for a few years before my father finally decided that starting a whole new family sounded like a better idea than being with his first one. He may have left but his words didn’t. My mother at first told me that what he was saying wasn’t true. That “hurt people, hurt people.” But as I got older and saw that everyone around me seemed to find their places with each other, and I couldn’t ever seem to fit in, I started to realize that maybe my…father… was right. It wasn’t up until about a year or so ago that I began to be one with the loneliness. Or at least I like to tell myself that. When Elena came around I saw it almost as a threat to myself. To what I was used to. Why, after 17 years did someone finally decide to see me? Having friends now makes me feel like a hungry dog. I got a taste of what it felt like to be fed, but it doesn’t seem to be good enough for me. That’s why it’s better for me to ruin anything that can have a hold on me…Even if it can take away that hunger.”
Klaus is silent for a moment and so am I.
“After I turned…the moon wasn’t the only thing that kept away the loneliness,” Klaus says and I turn my head to gaze at him and he turns him to gaze at me, “You were.”
I furrow my eyebrows, “What are you talking about?”
Klaus reaches a hand up and runs a finger along my face as if he’s memorizing every aspect of it.
“At first it was just glimpses. Colors. Almost like a memory that didn’t belong to me. But every night as I’d dream the images would get clearer. Until one night I was staring into the most exquisite y/e/c I’d ever seen. I didn’t know who they belonged to yet. But for the first time in my life, I felt seen. I’m a monster who has done monstrous things, but yet these eyes looked at me like none of that mattered. Like I had finally been accepted, monstrous bits and all. So every morning when I awoke I’d draw them. And every night I’d dream of them. It wasn’t for another 300 years that I would learn that the eyes belonged to the human part of my soul. And when I found that out, I was angry. Furious even. I hated the thought that the only way someone would ever look at me like I was deserving of being understood was if they were a direct result of me.”
Klaus stops and I can practically hear my heartbeat thumping. 
“So I burnt the pictures. Hid anything that reminded me of those eyes and hoped to never come across them for the rest of my eternity. And for 1,108 years I had accomplished that…until one Friday afternoon, in a tiny high school where I locked eyes with that y/e/c. And everything I’d work for became nothing. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time. I was once again that little boy running from himself begging for someone to save him. Because I knew the longer I looked into those y/e/c eyes, the sooner I was doomed.”
Klaus grabs my chin and makes me look into his eyes, “You, Y/n Y/l/n have doomed for me for an eternity,” His eyes search mine, “And no matter how much I try to fight it, fight you, I can’t help but spend every waking moment hoping for you. Hoping for my promised destruction.”
I stare wordlessly at the man in front of me. I keep opening my mouth and closing it but I can’t seem to find the right words. 
“I think I’m going to have a panic attack,” I sit upright quickly and clench my chest. I hear Klaus sit up next to me and clutch my shoulders.
“Y/n, just breathe,” He soothes and I think I am having a stroke because what the actual fuck is happening right now.
“I’m so confused.”
Klaus brushes my hair away from my face, “I know this must be hard for you. I didn’t plan on telling you like this…I actually didn’t plan on telling you at all. But when I saw that anger on your face,” he pauses, “Anger that was directed at me, for the first time in my life I felt sick. So I needed to tell you, that even if you may hate me…I could never hate you. And for as long as I live, you will never be alone again.”
I feel tears brim my eyes as I look over and up to him and shake my head, “If you feel this way then why did you invite Caroline? Clearly, you don’t feel the way you say,” I try to deny.
Klaus’s expression darkens, and he once again grabs my chin. “Do not for a moment try to tell me how I feel about you. The only reason I invited your blonde friend was because Elijah had already claimed you as his date. You can also ask your blonde friend, but the entire night all I did was ask her questions about you. I heard she can’t keep a secret for her life and so I picked her brain about you. If my older brother hadn’t gotten to you first…you would’ve been with me tonight.”
I try to process what he just said and I feel a panic attack come on, “I…I…but…I,” I continue shaking my head as I stand up and Klaus follows, “You and Elijah are just playing some sick joke on me right? As a way to get back at Elena? Mess with the mentally ill non-verbal best friend. Get her to hate herself for getting all flustered over two brothers! Fucking brothers!”
“I can assure you, Elskan. That is not the case,” I whip around to see Elijah walking down the steps into the garden. 
I rub a hand over my face and start walking around in a circle as the two brothers stand next to one another, watching. 
“I mean, come on! You guys have to see how crazy this is right? I mean what kind of whore gets feelings for brothers!”
Klaus and Elijah’s faces darkened and I hear Klaus release a low growl.
“Dont. Ever. Call yourself a whore,” Elijah takes a step forward and continues speaking with a deadly tone, “My brother has said his peace to you, and in due time I will as well. But don’t for a moment think that you should hate yourself for something that fate has put in front of you.”
I continue to stand there like a fish out of water, not knowing what the hell to say next. Thankfully, my saving grace comes in the form of a loud crashing sound coming from upstairs, capturing our attention. 
“Shouldn’t we go check that out,” I point up with a shaking hand. 
“Don’t for a second think that we won’t be discussing this further,” Elijah informs me and I have to fight back the weird feeling in my chest at his commanding tone. 
I nod and Elijah comes towards me and reaches out a hand for me to take. Klaus steps forward and does the same. I stare at both of their hands and swallow my doubts as I place a hand in each and let them guide me upstairs towards the front door where my friends and their siblings are standing. 
I quickly drop my hands from theirs as Elena turns towards me. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem she saw anything as she sends me a small smile. 
Damon stands above Kol’s dead body with an enraged look. 
“Fucking idiot,” I mutter.
“You’ve got that right,” My little brother says as he comes to stand next to me. 
Damon looks over all of us before landing his eyes on me, “Pukey, we’re leaving,” Damon’s tone is harsh but something in his eyes makes my heart tug.
“She is not going anywhere with you,” Elijah says with a dark voice that has everyone looking at him. 
I shake my head, “It’s ok,” I turn to Theo and hand him my *Stefan’s* car keys, “I’ll see you at home, okay?”
Theo looks at me like I’ve got two heads but still nods.
I look over to where Klaus and Elijah are practically seething and sigh.
“Let’s go, Freak,” I run over to Damon and grab his arm leading him away from everyone and out into the parking lot. 
As soon as we’re out of sight from everyone I see Damon’s shoulders instantly drop and I turn to glare at him.
“You’ve seriously got the worst survival instinct, of anyone I’ve ever met,” I say with a hand on his hip.
“I’m never going to be the one,” Damon lets out with a shaky sigh and I instantly drop my disappointed mother act. 
“What happened?”
I take a step closer to him and he shakes his head.
“Elena.”
I take a deep sigh and nod, “Of course.”
Damon lifts his head to look at me, “You look like how I feel,” He says trying to be sarcastic but I can hear the pain in his voice.
“I’ve had a rough night too, my friend. Movie night at yours,” I question as I wrap my arm around his, and his upper lip twitches.
“You called me your friend.”
I roll my eyes and let him lead me to his car, “Shut up.”
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won4kiss · 1 month ago
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────WHEN THEY UPSET YOU.
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(🧺) ── HYUNG LINE﹙엔하이픈﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshots ៸ fluff ៸ established relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ petnames❞ bf!enha x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 500 per member ꒱ SYPNoSiS .ᐟ in which the members upset you and they don’t know what they did .ᐟㅤ ── LiBRARY / maknae line
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୨୧ ‎이희승 ── 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
HEESEUNG KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG THE MOMENT HE WALKED INTO THE ROOM.
you didn’t excitedly greet him like you usually do. instead, you were curled up on the couch, arms crossed, lips pressed into a firm line.
you didn’t even spare him a single glance when he stepped into the apartment.
“angel?” his voice was soft as he slowly approached you—he crouched beside the couch, tilting his head to try and catch your eye, but you purposefully looked away.
the nickname he always used for you usually made you smile, but today, it did nothing.
heeseung frowned, wracking his brain for any idea of what he might have done.
he dropped his bag beside the couch and slowly sat down next to you, his knee nudging yours, hoping for a response.
“did i do something?” he asked again, his voice filled with concern.
you finally turned to him, eyes wide and teary at his cluelessness. “you forgot, heeseung.” ─── 𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖴𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖢𝖴𝖳 .ᐟㅤ
his heart dropped. “forgot what?”
you sighed, rolling your eyes. “you forgot our plans today. i waited for hours.”
the realization hit him like a truck. he was supposed to meet you after practice for a date—a day you’d been talking about for weeks.
but between rehearsals running late and him getting wrapped up in perfecting the choreography, it had completely slipped his mind.
guilt instantly filled his chest.
“angel, i’m so sorry,” heeseung said, instantly shifting closer to you on the couch. “practice ran late, and i just lost track of time. i didn’t mean to—”
“you didn’t even text me,” you cut him off, your voice a mixture of hurt and disappointment.
“i was waiting for you all dressed up like an idiot, heeseung.”
he could see how much it bothered you, and it made him feel terrible—you had planned a whole day for the two of you, and he let you down.
he hated knowing that he’d made you feel like this. “angel,” he whispered, his hand gently taking yours despite your resistance.
“i didn’t mean to stand you up. i know i messed up. i’m really sorry.” heeseung squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. “let me make it up to you, okay?”
you stayed silent, but he could see the way your lips quivered, like you were trying to stay mad but were struggling to hold on to it.
“i’ll make it the best night ever,” he continued, smiling softly at you. “i’ll cook dinner, we’ll pick your favorite movie, and i’ll even let you choose the snacks.” he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper.
“and i promise i won’t complain even if it’s one of those sappy romance movies you love.”
a soft smile tugged at your lips, and heeseung knew he was getting to you—he grinned, pressing his forehead gently against yours.
“forgive me, angel?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with sincerity. “i’ll never forget again for the rest of my life, i swear.”
you sighed, finally meeting his eyes, and the sternness in your gaze softened. “fine. but you’re on dessert duty.”
heeseung beamed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“anything for my angel.”
୨୧ ‎박종성 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆
JAY WAS QUICK TO NOTICE WHEN SOMETHING WAS OFF.
you weren’t being as talkative as usual, and when you finally did speak, your words were quiet and short.
he knew that tone—it meant you were upset.
as someone who prided himself on being attentive, it bothered him that he didn’t know what he had done wrong.
“honey, what’s going on?” jay asked, sitting beside you on the couch—his voice was gentle, cautious even, as he tried to understand the cause of your dim mood.
you didn’t look at him, your arms crossed over your chest as you continued staring at your phone. “you didn’t call,” you said flatly.
jay frowned. “didn’t call? oh… oh.” it hit him then.
he promised to call you after his meeting, but it had run longer than expected, and he completely forgot.
he had been so busy that it slipped his mind.
he could see the disappointment in your expression, even if you tried to hide it.
“i’m sorry, honey,” he said, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away, just slightly. “i didn’t mean to forget. the meeting ran late, and before i knew it, the whole day had passed. i didn’t realize it was so late.”
you didn’t respond, still focused on your phone, but jay could tell by the way your lips were pressed together that you were hurt.
his heart sank—he hated seeing you like this.
jay’s quick thinking kicked in—he reached for one of the pillows on the couch and gently tapped it against your arm, the small thud catching you off guard.
“hey, don’t ignore me like that,” he teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
you blinked and finally turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.
he held up the pillow in defense, a grin on his face. “what? you’re giving me no choice, babe. if you won’t listen to my apology, i might have to challenge you to a pillow fight.”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but there was a tiny smile forming on your lips. “a pillow fight? really, jay?”
jay grinned, tossing the pillow aside before leaning in closer. “only if it’ll make you smile.” he lowered his voice, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
“i hate it when you’re upset. i’m really sorry, honey. i didn’t mean to forget. let me make it up to you.”
you tried to hold onto your frustration, but jay’s sincerity and playful approach were making it hard.
you sighed, setting your phone down. “fine. but next time, don’t forget or i’ll kill you.”
jay smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “i won’t,” he promised, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “not a chance. i’ll call you so much you’ll get sick of me.”
you laughed, finally relaxing in his embrace.
“we’ll see about that.”
୨୧ ‎심재윤 ── 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌
JAKE KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG WHEN YOU BARELY RESPONDED TO HIS JOKES.
you usually laughed at every single thing he said, even if he said the most unfunny thing ever.
but today, there was only silence—he frowned, glancing over at you as you sat on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed and a distant look in your eyes.
“hey, my love,” jake said softly, sitting beside you. “is everything okay? you look down.”
you didn’t look at him, just stared at the floor. “you didn’t tell me you’d be out all day.”
jake’s heart sank—he had been out with the guys for hours, and you had been expecting him to come home sooner.
he had mentioned he’d be back earlier, but plans had changed, and he completely forgot to update you.
“i’m sorry,” he said, reaching for your hand. “i didn’t realize i’d be out for so long. i should’ve messaged you.”
you pulled your hand away, and jake’s chest tightened.
he hated it when you were upset, especially if it was his fault. “i didn’t mean to make you wait,” he added, his voice soft. “i’m really sorry, love.”
you finally looked at him, your lips pressed into a pout. “you could’ve at least let me know.”
jake sighed, moving closer until his leg brushed against yours. “i know, i know. that was my fault.”
he gently placed a hand on your knee, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “how can i make it up to you? what can i do to make you smile again?”
you glanced at him, your resolve starting to falter. “you can’t just fix everything with a cute smile, jake.”
jake grinned, leaning in closer until his face was inches from yours.
“no? what about a picnic date? we can get all your favorite snacks, go somewhere nice… just the two of us.”
you tried to keep your serious expression, but the thought of a picnic with jake was already breaking down your walls.
“fine,” you mumbled, a small smile starting to form. “but i get to pick everything.”
“deal.” jake pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your pout. “anything for my baby.”
୨୧ ‎박성훈 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
SUNGHOON NOTICED THE SHIFT IN YOUR MOOD ALMOST INSTANTLY.
you weren’t smiling, and you were being unusually quiet—normally, you were all giggles and playful, but today, you barely looked at him.
“pretty, tell me what’s wrong?” sunghoon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.
you sighed, not meeting his gaze. “you didn’t text me back earlier.”
sunghoon blinked, quickly pulling out his phone to check his messages.
sure enough, there were several unread texts from you, messages that he hadn’t seen because he’d been caught up in practice.
his eyes widened in realization.
“i’m sorry,” he said immediately, setting his phone down and turning his full attention to you.
“i didn’t mean to ignore you. practice ran late, and i just… i didn’t check my phone.”
you finally looked at him, a small pout on your lips. “i was so worried about you.”
sunghoon’s heart squeezed—he never wanted you to feel that way. “i’m really sorry,” he said again, his hand gently resting on your arm. “i didn’t mean to make you worry, baby.”
you huffed softly, still a little upset, but sunghoon wasn’t about to let you stay mad at him.
he gently tugged at your sleeve, his voice softening. “pretty, don’t be mad. i don’t like it when you’re upset.”
you glanced at him, and sunghoon knew you were starting to crack.
he gave you a soft smile, leaning in a little closer. “what if i make it up to you with a date this weekend? we can go anywhere you want.”
you tried to hold onto your frustration, but sunghoon’s soft voice and pleading eyes were too much.
you finally sighed, shaking your head. “fine. but next time, answer your phone.”
sunghoon grinned, pulling you into a hug. “i promise, i’ll answer right away. i’ll never let you worry again, baby.”
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cameronsprincess · 4 months ago
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THE STORM (PT. 2) — J.M
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— summary: it’s been six months since that night at the chateau with jj, and he’s back for more.
— CW: mean!jj, maybe forced proximity??, slight breeding kink, slapping, choking, degrading, unprotected piv sex.
— note: i kinda came up with something for this, and have had it in my drafts for a minute.. i queued it up before i went on my break, hope y’all enjoy and i’ll be back soon! you can read part one here if you haven’t already!
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It’s been six months since that night. The night that has consumed your every waking thought, and every nightmare you had.
You’d always known JJ hated you, so you don’t know why it really surprised you that things went down the way they did. JJ was a horrible person to put it nicely. Sure, you felt for him at times, his home life not being the best and all, but after that night, you stopped caring, you stopped trying, and you tried your hardest to ignore him.
But it’s hard to ignore someone who continually puts themself in your line of sight. You knew you’d still see him, seeing as the two of you are both in the same friend group, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t ignore his presence. The more you tried to ignore him though, the harder he tried to get your attention.
He’d throw mean jabs your way, shoulder check you as he walked past you, you’d catch him staring at you from across a room or when you and your friends are gathered around a late night fire his bright blue eyes stayed glued on you when no one else was paying attention.
This was one of those moments.
You and your friends decided to have a fire at the chateau, and the only thing you could focus on was the blonde whose blue eyes were burning a hole into the side of your face.
“So like I said, he’s a dick, and I hope our dad kicks him out soon.”
You blink once. Twice. Three times before finally putting your focus back on Sarah who had been talking to you.
“I’m so sorry, Sare. I’m just out of it tonight, what’d you say?”
Sarah places a loving hand on your shoulder before laughing. “It’s cool, just me complaining about Rafe, per usual. Are you okay?”
You slowly nod your head, letting your head hang and your eyes focus on the seltzer you had in your hands. Truth was, you were far from okay. Even after everything JJ has put you through — before and after you had sex with him — you couldn’t get him out of your head. You wanted to feel him again, you wanted to let him ravage you again, and you hated yourself for it.
“Yeah I’m good. Just tired, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You pause, looking up and calling for John B. “You mind if I sleep in the spare room tonight?”
John B smiles back at you, nodding his head once. “Yeah that’s fine! Looks like you got the couch tonight, J.”
Your eyes flit over to JJ, his intense fiery gaze already on you. The corners of his lips lift into a small smile, but it looked evil. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He said lowly, responding to JB but his eyes never left yours.
Your entire body feels like it’s on fire despite the cold December air, and it wasn’t from the large fire blazing in front of you. No, it’s JJ and his all consuming presence that has your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out.
You quickly drop your eyes, downing the last of your seltzer and crushing it in your hand. You tell your friends goodnight and head inside the old house, tossing the can into the trash and making your way down the small hallway and into the guest bedroom.
You hated the way JJ made you feel. You hated him. You hated how you still wanted him even after he used you and quite literally tossed you to the side when he was done with you.
His words have torn you apart the last six months. “We don’t talk about this, ever. got it? It was just.. hate sex? Someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. This changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you.”
You’re stripping yourself of your jeans and thick sweater, getting ready to climb into the bed when the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door squeaking open has you turning fast on your heels.
JJ.
“What.. What’re you doing in here?”
You hate the way your voice has a slight shake to it, the way you don’t sound confident and how your entire body is shaking in his presence. But most importantly, you hate the way your pussy is throbbing, growing wet at just the sight of JJ and his fucking stupidly beautiful face.
He smirks at you, reaching a hand behind him and locking the door. You take a cautious step backward, your eyes narrowing and head cocked slightly to the side as you watch him watch you.
“JJ! What the fuck are you-”
The rest of your sentence dies when JJ reaches you with just two long strides, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat and shoving you into the wall behind you.
“You’re driving me fucking insane. You know that? I fucking hate you, yet, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”
Your eyes go wide, tears clouding your vision as you try and gasp for air. Your lips move, trying to choke out a response or anything, but all that comes out is strangled nonsense.
“I’ve tried! I’ve tried fucking other girls, I’ve tried staying away from you. But you’re fucking everywhere. Do you know how goddamn irritating that is? Why can’t you just go back to figure eight and stay there? Why the fuck do you keep comin’ around here?”
You lift your arms, gripping onto his wrist that holds your throat and clawing at it, begging him to release you. It’s not your fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You weren’t the one that came onto him that night, it was him! So why are you being blamed? Why is he making it so hard to breathe? So hard to… To..
Black dots take over your vision, your body going numb as JJ tightens his hand around your throat, squeezing so hard you’re close to blacking out.
JJ senses your body going slack in his hold and releases you, stepping back and watching as you hunch over, hands gripping your knees as you suck in breath after breath of sweet oxygen.
Once your head is not longer spinning and you’re breathing properly again, you slowly lift your body, your pissed off gaze finding JJ still standing there.
“Fuck you, JJ! I didn’t do shit! You came onto me that night! You told me that it changed nothing, so frankly, I don’t fucking feel sorry that you can’t get me out of your head, in fact, it brings me great pleasure to know I’m all you think about,” you pause, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking in a slow, long breath of air. “So if you don’t fucking mind, I’m exhausted and just want to be left the fuck alone!”
You move to climb into the bed, but JJ grips your upper arm tightly pulling you back and flush into his firm body. His head dips down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and sending a shudder through your body.
His warm breath fans across your sensitive skin, and your nipples harden in response. Fuck him. You won’t give in easily this time.
“I think you want to fuck me again. I think, I’ve been in this pretty little head just as much as you’ve been in mine,” He pauses, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your temple. “Lay on the bed, Y/L/N. Now.”
You turn your head to look at JJ, your eyes narrowed into thin slits as you contemplate what to say. He’s not entirely wrong, but you’d be stupid to sleep with him again.
“Fuck. You. I refuse to let you fuck me again.”
JJ’s eyes darken, and the hand on your arm tightens more before he yanks you to the side and tosses you onto the bed. You lay there, chest heaving up and down as you watch him intently, waiting to see what he’d do next.
He stands there, staring at you, his own breathing erratic. Slowly, he pulls his tight white t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. Your eyes scan the length of his tanned and toned chest. God, you want to feel him underneath your hands so badly, you want to give in and let him fuck you again. No one, and you mean no one, had ever fucked you the way JJ had.
“You look real pretty like this, in nothing but your bra and panties, actin’ like your pussy isn’t fuckin’ soaked f’me, crying f’me and just begging to be filled with my cock again.”
You open your mouth to speak, but JJ climbs on top of you, grabbing both your wrists in his right hand and pinning them above your head. You gasp loudly when you feel his cock pressing against your lace covered core, even through his jeans you can feel every last inch of him. Your pussy throbs, your arousal soaking your thighs as he lays there, unmoving but still the feel of his hard cock has you wanting to feel more of him.
“Tell me, princess. You wanna feel me inside you again? You wanna be fucked properly again? Because I know them kooks ain’t doing you no good. No, a girl like you needs to be dominated, needs to be choked and slapped and fucked nice and hard, needs to be put in her place, that what you want baby?”
You’re weak. You can’t even tell him no when your slick thighs, hard nipples and the way you’re breathing is giving the truth away. And the truth is, JJ is right. No one has compared to him. You want him to claim you, to break your mind and leave you craving more even when you know you shouldn’t.
“I- Please. Please fuck me.”
That’s all JJ needed to hear. He releases your wrists from his hand and yanks the cups of your bra down, exposing your tits to him. He smirks at the sight of your hard nipples, dipping his head down and licking each one before sucking one into his mouth.
He releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, moving to the other and repeating his actions. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking slut, yeah? Loves the idea of fucking the one person she shouldn’t.”
You whimper in response, bucking your hips upward, craving any type of friction on your swollen, needy clit.
“Awww, how pathetic. Begging to be fucked already, don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna fuck this cunt, and I’m fucking it raw this time.”
JJ hops off the bed, popping the button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down with haste. You watch as he slides his jeans and boxers down his legs in one fell swoop, wasting no time in crawling back on top of you and claiming your lips with his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and further into you. You grind your hips against his, feeling his thick cock slide up and down through your slick folds. JJ groans in response, breaking the kiss and pushing himself up, supporting his weight with both his hands.
“So fuckin’ eager, aren’t ya? Wanna be fucked like the dirty little whore we both know you are.”
You nod your head fast, whimpering and moaning as you continue to grind your hips against the air. JJ laughs at you, his hand landing a harsh smack to your cheek before he grips his cock, stroking at it twice before sliding his swollen tip through your folds.
“P-Please, J! Please, fuck me! Wanna be fucked like a whore, wanna be your whore, the girl you hate but fuck anyways!”
JJ groans, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He looks down at you, eyes locked with yours as he pushes himself all the way inside you, filling and stretching your pussy. The two of you moan in unison.
“Fuck! So fuckin’ tight, feels so much better than I remember.” JJ rasps, his hips still, cock unmoving inside your pussy.
You begin grinding your hips, wanting to feel him move inside you, wanting his cock to bring you an orgasm.
JJ slaps at your face again, giving you a look of warning before he dips his head down and captures your lips with his again. He kisses you fervently and begins moving his hips, slowly at first, but then hard and fast.
You moan into his mouth when his swollen tip repeatedly hits at your g-spot, making your toes curl and fingers dig into the smooth skin of his back. “Fuckfuckfuck, JJ! Feels so fucking good!”
JJ picks up the pace of his thrusts, pounding himself inside you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, and you’re secretly praying it isn’t the last time. You need more of him forever, even if it’ll only ever be hate sex. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even think of another girl getting this from him.
“Yeah? Feels good? Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? Make you a mama and be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”
A loud moan escapes you at his words, and honestly, the thought isn’t too bad. You wouldn’t mind JJ knocking you up, you would always have a reason to see him, and maybe, just maybe, it would change the dynamic between the two of you.
You bite and suck on his lower lip as he continues his brutal thrusts, your pussy clenching around him with every push and pull of his cock. He slows his pace, slowly pulling out so only the tip remains inside you before harshly shoving himself back in. He continues to slowly pull himself out before shoving himself back in, his swollen head hitting that spot inside you over and over again until you’re so close to exploding you can taste it.
“J-JJ! Need.. Need to cum, please!”
Your teeth are chattering, legs shaking and belly tightening. You can’t hold off your orgasm, and thankfully, JJ doesn’t make you.
“Go on, make a mess on my cock, show me how much your pussy loves my cock being inside her.”
That was all it took, your orgasm gushes from you, soaking JJ’s cock and the sheets below you.
“JJ, oh God! Fuck!” You cry out, your nails digging into JJ’s back so hard you break skin.
JJ picks up the speed of his thrusts again, savagely fucking into your sensitive pussy, chasing his own high.
“Gonna cum inside this little cunt, claim you as mine, because you’re mine now, don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning out a soft “yes”. JJ’s cock swells, twitching inside you as he comes undone, filling you with his cum like he said he would.
He thrusts inside you one final time, stilling and holding himself deep inside you, letting every last drop of cum fill you. Once he’s come down, he slowly pulls himself from inside you and places a kiss to your sweat slick forehead.
“Don’t know what else to say besides, you’re mine. I ain’t sayin’ I like you, or that I am gonna fall in love with you, but I don’t want no one else, and I don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”
You slowly nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep tries to claim you. JJ quietly redresses, placing one final kiss to the top of your head before he makes his way out of the room. You drift to sleep, your mind consumed with what just happened, with JJ’s cum leaking from your pussy, and thoughts of what the fuck was to come from this little arrangement you just made with him.
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kooyabooya · 5 months ago
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SUITS, (STOCKINGS), & TIES
m reader x minju // 9k words
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For the record, there aren’t any fingerprints seen underwater. Nothing to tie one to a crime. The trial itself is already a rapid current, pulling you and everyone around the bullpen into the endless sea of papers, payment record documents, video recording transcripts, then more fucking papers, and you absolutely hate it.
Files boxed in dating back to even before taking the damn job, the amount of trips to and from the copying machine, getting the materials right. Avoiding any fuck ups; that too, was always the end goal - staring at the blue folder sitting on your desk until–
Your fucking intercom’s ringing again. 
It’s always a trip, that’s how it usually flows around here: a turn to the left, round the front desk of the floor, hook right down the insanely long walkway, glass windows giving you this nice view of the city skyline. Pretty, at around one in the morning of another late night of work stacked upon your desk. 
Easy enough to also: take a moment to admire the view, since it’s the kind of view that you’d never get over no matter how many times you look at it. You sigh at the playback in your head, something that Chaeyeon talked to you about while hiding away from the pressures of work in her own office, bumping coffee mugs and wishing that the building had sliding windows to let the high breeze through. 
They would never allow that. You tell her, keeping the vibe lighthearted with a laugh. I mean seriously, even if we did, it’s all fun and games until someone in one of the conference rooms below us sees a body hurling down towards the ground at a hundred miles per hour. Chaeyeon complains that the air conditioning doesn’t even reach her office sometimes, and tells you that she’s jealous, wanting to switch places with you since the sun hits her back during the work hours. 
Sweeping past her office, since she’s gone for the day, the carpet gets pressed down by your loafers, tilting your head to see that the office at the very end of the walkway has the lights on, and you do notice the gap where the door should be; meaning that it’s open or someone stepped inside. 
This was the end point of this overbearing yet brief journey. The office that was considered to be base camp, the command center, the brains, one would say. One of the firm’s most well known figures with how she leans back into her chair with a leg across the other, showing that she means business, and knows how to look good while doing it. 
Prior, you loop around the pane entering the room- 
“You’re saying that I should sit back and do nothing?” Minju asks, finger tapping the peak of her nose, clearly pressed. 
“I’m not telling you to,” the woman standing across her with a left hand fastened to the hip with a lean to her right side, “We’re backed into a corner and all I’m saying is that we have to draw back and take this at a new angle.” 
“But you said that last time! And look where it’s got us.” Minju shoots back, both feet on the floor now, drawing herself closer to make a point. You’re trying to not make your presence known, seeing where this exchange is headed, fighting the urge to not butt in and make a fool of yourself. “Cutting a deal with the very same person that is trying to come back and rip everything from us was all part of your plan?” 
“Minju, I know you’re angry but–” 
Minju slaps her hand down on the desk, “We’ve got them right where we wanted, pulled all the stops, and now you want to just back off?” 
“I’m not backing off, I’ve managed to buy us more time.” the woman says, pressing on the rim of her glasses, sighing when Minju doesn’t even bother to look back at her in the eye, flipping through a packet with a pen in her hand to check and see if there was anything that was usable to help the situation. You’ve seen the packet on her desk earlier that way, ran that by Hyewon, her secretary, and now she’s finally looking at it. 
“Two days. That’s all I got until we fall back with the judge.” she says to Minju, “Unless you have something for me on my desk later today, I’m officially and unofficially grounding you.” 
“Dahyun-” 
“Zip it.” Dahyun says, mimicking a pulling motion with her right hand to her lip, “You’re already stretched thin as it is, this case is already taking a toll on all of us and this would be the last thing I need on my mind.” 
A tap to the glass on the entryway, “Is this a bad time?” 
The two women look at you in suspicion, both of them not even realizing that the door was open the entire time, listening to the conversation, “How long have you been standing there?” Dahyun asks, pointing at you while you’re leaned against the glass, foot pointed to the floor all relaxed and everything. 
“I’ve been here long enough, but a little over five minutes.” you answer, blue folder in hand. “Didn’t want to interrupt the usual bickering on a casual Thursday evening.” you also add, stepping inside Minju’s office where it opens up.  
The great Kim Minju, one of the firm’s best lawyers, and Dahyun’s right hand woman, one of the key people sitting at the high table; also your handler of these different cases and adventures that she usually sends you to do or help her with. Her office was classy, a row shelves off to the right side filled with an assortment of vinyls and picture frames of the people that she holds most dear to her heart. A record player was next to this trolley that had a kettle and a bowl of candies (though she doesn’t like to admit that she’s got a sweet tooth); there’s also her violet couch in velvet that you’ve also passed out on multiple times, drunk on the sweet scent that you still have to figure out which one she uses for that. 
“This is the last file for the case I managed to scrounge and put together.” you tell Minju, sliding it over across while her inky eyes dart at you, prompting a questioning eyebrow out of both of you while Dahyun’s gaze falls on top. “Everything in terms of deals within the last year from our target man should be all in there. Though, we had a minor hiccup earlier this week with–” 
“Don’t remind me,” Minju vexes, “That was my screwup with the family and now I’m paying for it.” 
“After I told you not to jump the gun.” Dahyun jumps in, hand on the corner of the granite. She sounds annoyed; after all, she was technically the ‘fall guy’ in all of this with her hiccup also in mishandling the exchanged information, not her fuck up though, since she was set up from the beginning after a hidden clause she signed a long time ago. She also swoops in to grab the file, opening it to skim through the papers, slightly nodding at what she could read for a few seconds. “Impressive,” Dahyun nods, “this is good leverage.” 
“Thank you,” you say, smirking while Dahyun hands you back the file for Minju to look at, pulling it out of your fingers to flip through. “Had some help from Hyewon, but didn’t want to take all of the credit.” 
“Well I appreciate you both.” Dahyun adds, “I had my doubts when I got the call to come back and see what all the fuss was about. Now, I can breathe a little more easily knowing that we have this in the bag, I hope.” 
“I’m still here, you know.” Minju huffs, rolling her eyes.
“Hush,” Dahyun scrunches funnily, taps your shoulder, causing you to shrug nonchalantly, “Thank you for hanging back to help me take care of this while I’ve been dealing with my moving situation. God, it's been a back breaker for me.” 
“How’d that go?” 
“We finally settled in, I had a small housewarming party about a few weeks ago or so, but I’ve been keeping in touch with–” 
“You said that your friend Sana was living in the area too, right? From college?” Minju suddenly asks, pen flat on the paper and fully invested in the life update. Dahyun nods to this while you’re pursing your lips at the news. You’re not one to lend an ear to these things, but you just can’t help yourself when they’re being talked about in the open. Talk about separating privacy and professionalism. 
“Yeah, it’s been good to see her, if it wasn’t for this fucking cas–” 
“Dahyun, it’s fine. We got it.” you tell her, slowly nodding to ease the stress, “You’re already doing so much by coming back from leave to deal this along with us. It shows that you do care about this firm and the reputation that it has.” 
“Look at you being a kiss ass.” Minju deadpans. You pay no attention to that. 
“And not taking this ordeal would've put the firm into crisis mode having the last thing I’d want to happen.” Dahyun scoffs, “Besides, the value is way more than that once all of this is over.” She starts to make her way out of Minju’s office, turning around to face both of you with eye contact, “I assume that you two will close up shop when you’re done?” 
“Don’t even need to remind us.” you tell her, Minju looks up with a soft smile across her face, lightly waving at Dahyun before she gives you two a quick goodbye, leaving shortly after. “She seemed a little more dismissive than usual, like she wanted to give us alone time don’t you think?” 
“I can’t stand her nosy ass sometimes, trying to veer the way how I want to do things.” 
“Ouch.” 
“I’m serious,” Minju shoots back, flipping through the packet, not giving an ounce of care through all of the blacked lines or different clauses in the suggested proposal that would settle this whole case. “I love Dahyun - I mean - she has the spare set of keys to my damn apartment since she moved away, that’s how much she means to me.” 
“Didn’t think you’d be sappy over your boss, especially after the shit show that we’d–” 
“One more word out of your smart mouth and I’ll stop looking through your documents to stall time.” 
“You already signed it, though.” you say, pouting with a frown, “Which also means that this should all officially end by tomorrow.” 
Minju sweeps through the row of open and unopened files spread across her desk, eyes canvassing between the texts and dried ink of signatures, vying for some sort of leverage that would go against Dahyun’s wishes. It’s natural for her to be extremely nitpicky - highlighted with a small curtain of hair falling in front of her forehead, pulling the side of her index finger back while her pretty eyelashes flutter about. She’s refined and very sophisticated, the kind that makes you stop in your tracks one day when she waltzes in the office on her own time, and not that she’s thirty minutes late in the morning. 
Throw the law degree away bucko, maybe that avenue of studying art and architecture would’ve been the better option considering how much you’ve been staring for the past five minutes. 
To fill in, here’s the brief rundown of the position. 
A lot of people would’ve killed to be Minju’s associate. I mean, the woman seeps in ‘getting what she wants’. You could consider yourself lucky, but Minju already had eyes on you from the first second you stepped into her office for the interview. The interview itself wasn’t all that glamorous: renting one of your best friend’s designer suits that would’ve been more usable for a fucking award show spritzed with a cologne that was way out of your league in terms of scent let alone price, a typo on the fucking resume that she looks with an eyebrow for an explanation, and a lasting impression that whatever happens would deem only to be the best going forward. 
Minju wanted someone who excelled both in book and street smarts, be able to get a grasp on the situation faster within the first few seconds of receiving the case or news, and most importantly, to steer Minju’s level of thinking where even the most irrational decisions would be reasonable. 
You hit all the marks, and qualified to be associate. End of story. 
“Everything that we all have here is solid substantial evidence,” Minju cuts in with a paper flipped back to the top of the page, pen flat on her fingers as if she’s fed up with playing reviewing proctor, “Nothing would change with what we already have on the case.” 
“But the conclusion would be different,” you reply, sitting opposite to her, respectfully doing nothing but twiddling a pen between your fingers, considering that you were pretty much done with your bout in the file room earlier today, finding the last bits of documents from the archives that would help into comprising the settlement. “After all, it’ll be you and Dahyun in that conference room tomorrow closing the deal. I’m just passing papers.” 
“I suppose that you’re afraid of taking credit where it counts. Because why put in much effort for this case especially when someone else could’ve handled it when I asked?” 
“Dahyun insisted on coming back to oversee this. Had it been anyone else, the firm would’ve been up in flames if it wasn’t for her quick thinking pulling up the memos and signing payments from all those years ago.” 
Minju closes your blue folder, sliding it off to the side, flipping open her laptop without a flinch before typing away. “You know,” she starts, giving you this quick gaze that has you nicking your head a few millimeters, catching the pen in between your fingers to highlight that she has your attention, “I could’ve done this myself with Hyewon’s help, give you at least some days off after working you down the bone.”
“Now why would you do that?” you ask, four fingertips on the back of Minju’s laptop, closing it slowly while you’re rounding the fine corner of her obsidian desk, thumb wrapping underneath when her chair meets square with your hips. “That’s not very work-efficient for you to do that to me now, is it?” 
“You want to lecture me on how I should make you operate?” 
“She knows about us…by the way.” you tell Minju straightforward, smirking when you see that high arch of her brow, grimacing at the faulty accusation that she already knows by way of presentation. Doesn’t take long also for the different neurons firing in her brain that’s filled to the brim by the way of the law - only for that to be completely flattened out in one of those lobes replaced with various details of what you’re talking about.
“What are you talking about?” Minju asks, tilting her head upward that makes the sight of the high ground utterly so familiar. 
“Dahyun can easily tell that we have something going on,” you remind her, “She can easily read the both of us like a children’s book and–” 
“Bullshit,” her face crinkling with a tone more deaf the the simple drone of a dead phone line, “You know damn well that there’s nothing happening between us, so stop with the conviction.”  
“I’m not saying that you’re being convicted of my point,” you start, pushing her chair away to leave you space when you’re leaning over, seeing her back hit the cushion of the chair where she wiggles more comfortably with both hands on the armrests, “if anything, you’re just simply denying that there was ever really a thing between you and I.” 
“And that should be the end of that, no?” Minju coos, tipping her head a little bit higher, “Can you concur that there is nothing happening between us, especially in the workplace?” 
Minju is a professional, on par with the same archetypes like Dahyun. She’s witty, calculated, knows a lot more things from her experience compared to you, and blowhards herself way too much for anyone’s own liking. Every argument with her always starts with her leading the charge, to make you feel smaller right off the bat so that you’d have no way to counter unless your point seems fit to her points of focus. 
Okay, it may not be every verbal exchange with her on a day to day basis, considering that it’s also filled with witty banter and small inside jokes that could totally fall within the implications of the term ‘flirting’, but nothing ever really escalated from that. 
You also stuck your ears in between conversations during various corporate events and coworker mixers. Hell, even the pool of associates away from the main quarters of partners and senior partners all gave you the necessary praise for the chemistry that you’ve developed with Minju. Some days she wants to have your head on a platter, other days the talks were good, and you two managed to get things done around the office. 
Except for one day, and the details are still a bit murky for you to put up in recording: another workday in the office, maybe a little slow for Wednesday transition from morning to an afternoon -  but a free flowing circulation of phone calls, fax reports, conference appointments with clients, and a running order of Hyewon’s go-to latte from the coffee shop on the first floor. 
Bouncing back and forth between Dahyun’s office and Yuri’s, you make a quick detour towards Minju’s office who happened to slot herself on the left side of you while matching your walking pace. Expecting a quick quip from her like any other morning, you were waiting for it, but she hits you with the ‘file room, now.’ order that has you in-tow right behind her on the way there. 
Though your mind was already in overtime mode with the workload that was dropped to your desk roughly about two hours since arriving, it had already been nonstop and maybe Minju’s time could be quick if it was related to saving the firm from being purged by pulling some old papers in the filing room. Somewhere along those lines, your mind gets blanked out from the cramped space of the metal shelves, those dusty boxes, compounded by dim lighting in the room already. 
What you do remember: 
The small little gasps and hums when you’re sucking along the line of Minju’s neck, gripping the fistfuls of her dress and sliding your hand along her thighs. 
(So much for keeping it professional with the woman who’s also technically your primary boss.)
“How do you want to go about this?” you ask, “Do you want me to persuade you into telling Dahyun that we need a little more time?” 
Minju hums, pensively, as the question itself is rather a tempting decision that’s also actionable at best. You could see the small lump from the inside of her cheek before she shifts it across her upper lip to the other side, twisting her chair forward to place both elbows on the desk with fingers intertwined like she’s praying for the Lord’s insight from above. “We’ve been on the nose with this thing for too long now, I think it’s about time to cut our losses before things get ugly.” 
You don’t say anything, leaning yourself onto the obsidian while your arms bridge themselves together, flexing the wool in the threads when she makes eye contact with you, flicking her eyes back onto the paper where there’s a few blank lines that still need to be written in ink. 
With a simple lift of her signature ballpoint pen by you, she takes it, twirling it around like you were doing a few minutes ago to imply that your point finally got through to her, fingers grazing along the fine paper to fill in the gaps. 
But the vantage point where your ass is pressed against the edge is proving to be some sense of uncomfortability, so you change course, from left to right, vacant chair adjacent to the desk in your hands in a fraction of a second, scooching closely while Minju scoffs at the prying during the task, “Didn’t think it’d be that easy for you to be cooperative with the demands.” 
“Stop,” and Minju sings this with the better facade of her naivete, “Unlike you, I’m willing to actually listen to what's being asked from the first try, and not have it repeated to me through different remarks.”  
You get too close, too soon, when the ends of her hair brushes against the front corner of your lips and cheek, she could hear the air close at the bottom of your throat when the tip of your nose barely grazes her cheekbone. A moment like this occurred before, you could say it’s in the sense of deja vu: Minju invites you out for some quality time between partner and associate, a few drinks were on the table, and Minju challenges you to a simple game of pool. 
Sounds pretty mangable and straightforward, right? 
Wrong. 
You get shafted by Minju the first game, pull yourself back the next round. There’s this back and forth like usual banter between colleagues, dishing out trash talk for some good ol’ competition. The count of drinks gets lost along with the perception of time, and this happens on impulse when you’re backed into a corner with the eight ball being the last one for Minju while you’re behind on three solids. She rambled about you being always two steps behind and you can’t blame or deny the fact that she’s also way out of your league, so what do you do? Take the pleasantries of hums to your advantage, molding your hips along with hers, calloused hands lightly clinging onto the denim while your chin nestles into her collarbone, saying carelessly with intent of taunting, don’t you think you should call the last shot if you do make it? 
Minju nips her lip triumphantly, turning her head, catching on with what you’re incessantly doing, whispering her call: left corner pocket. The attention to the black ball slips out of your mind when she presses your lips onto your cheek, a fatal blow while the space opens up between you again, tipping her head back also lets you know that you lost the best of three series, which also meant that the loser has to pay the bill. 
(You pay your dues, but also add the pay up by making your own call: pocketing yourself into Minju’s cunt on her bed later that would only serve all the wiser.) 
A flashback in your mind that took minutes, only to be reeled into the real world by merely seconds, “You missed one more claus–” 
That gap could be filled after, because this deal on the agenda was more important to deal with. 
Minju grabs you by the tie, leveling your head with hers. Your hands are quick to smooth out her skirt from behind, letting the various files and dossiers rest across the desk or on the floor, depending where her hands land for a proper hold. Some lights stay on long after hours, to serve as a subtle ambience that no matter what time it may be, someone’s still hard at work on a case, or waiting for their personal driver on the ground floor. Though, some other cases include a well-spoken conversation, or even just chatting between colleagues - this chat about work with Minju however, was anything but that. 
Right off the bat, you’re reminded of how Minju is so easy to break down, despite her having a front that has every possible contingency of shutting herself away from others because she’s not that kind of character to be soft and open, until where your fingers are dancing alongside the slope of her bottoms at the hips, thumb rounding the hard end with a slow pull of her chair to reel closer until you’re at the edge of your seat. 
The move itself is so subtle, setting her on the desk in a similar position that you were in while she was signing through the documents with her ass pressed against the desk, scooching back while dancing with her tongue, lips parted with her head tilted. You’ve also managed to get your hands underneath Minju’s perfect thighs, lifting her up to the tabletop, spreading her long limbs much like to that excerpt of Moses parting the Red Sea, dipping your hand underneath to get a feel of her lace. 
Minju’s breaths become slightly erratic, nearly short-circuiting the more your fingertips dance along the line of her skirt; inner thighs pressing along the side of your hips while you cater your mouth and fingers in her hair, her neck, the growing heat rising in the skin when she whimpers through your teeth given how cold it was in the room. How your fingertips graze along the slightly damp fabric with one- maybe two tips, you chuckle softly at how she’s very responsive to the touch, the small clutch around your neck and back from her arms to serve as a safeguard. 
This is something that you’ll probably take to the District Attorney, let alone have Dahyun in the loop, in the specific case where you find yourself with no other option, a last resort to drown her into the ground: 
“Let me ask you this again,” you prompt with another received kiss to the growing swell of your bottom lip, “Are you sure that there’s nothing happening between us? Especially in the workplace?” 
Minju gasps out before you shut her up with your lips, channeling the moan when you increase the intensity of swirling around her clit, putting her hips out forward to sate that ache for at least something, anything. 
“You’re certain that you can say with full confidence that you have no kind of interest in me, whatsoever, admit to me right now that I’m correct.” 
You could tell from the look on her face and the moan she lets out, vocal cords open and freely flowing with the heavy tone while crumbling at the touch, all hot and wet and losing most of the plot at this point before even getting to the real business. It’s really wicked, how this woman as your boss flaunts around the floor, knowing that she won’t let anything get in her way for getting the case done, doing whatever it takes to see it through to the end and even if the methods aren’t within the boundaries. 
Like you could handle the boundaries yourself, playing nice isn’t always the way to go. 
While your hand hikes up the smooth skin of her thigh, feeling an unfamiliar ridge, a weave, something that hugs her leg that probably deserves to be there, to help with the appearance and everything- maybe not or maybe so, you’ll assess when the moment gets there. She grips around what she could touch in terms of your blazer, hips pushing forward at the flex of muscle when you’re scratching the surface of her clothed cunt, the ripple effect shown in her body as she arches first, then sighs into your collarbone the next. 
“Mmn, pretty–” Minju groans out, letting a small hiss through the porcelain cracks of her teeth, “so well, so, so amazing.” 
You’ll seek out the wants, the needs, the odds to break even, testing out the very little restraints in patience left while this cold-hearted woman is melting into your touch, giving you the benefit of having free reign over her body, when she’s murmuring these little hums and broken phrases that switches back to yours with more perversion. 
“I need an answer from you.” Playing prosecutor against the defense wasn’t always ideal unless it’s a mock trial, but you’re always one to challenge Minju, getting her to see your points on a day to day basis, proving her wrong when you know it’s impossible to. She can see right through you, always letting you take the loss, never accepting a victory that you rightfully deserved. You’ll be good, go to her when you’re in a rut, she expects it to happen, that’s how loyalty works. Though, there’s nothing wrong with being defiant. “Don’t make me ask again.” 
It’s all a tease, the way you let the lace dip underneath the slit with the extra press of fingers, toying with the soaking walls and fighting the urge to tug the strings the more you repeat the same fucking routine–
“Baby,” she croons, it’s pathetic. You’re about to get worked up too if you play the waiting game, dragging your thumb across her clit so delicately that she’s quivering, squirming, feeling the tense in her shoulders through the button up, hanging onto your forearm when the hold gets a little too tight. Those breathy gasps get your mind ahead to what’s coming, the natural instinct of what you’ll do to her in her office, on top of her desk, and maybe even on that stupid velvet couch if need be. 
You can hear the huffs more clearly down your ear, the rise and fall of her upper body when you coax her for a few seconds; she’s spiraling out of control, a whine gets suppressed with a press of lips to her throat, and she stumbles back on her arm, spreading wider in mirth. 
She’s shaking her head, eyes screwed shut, like wincing, the whine too - holy hell - it’s reminding you after that night at the bar with her, a moment coming full circle. 
A hand sweeps through her hair, fingers carding, you kiss that sweet spot just underneath her earlobe, a lick from the tip of your tongue to get her more fitful, bring the desperation and sluttiness out of her lips. 
“Do you have- “ she’s sputtering out the letters and consonants, intertwined with hitches and moans, “any idea of what you do?” Minju can’t stay composed while the nips at her jaw and neck close the distance between her mouth–
“Haven’t had the slightest.” you whisper, hiking up the last bit of her skirt to see the new piece to untangle, “God, Minju- lacy stockings? Really?” 
The laugh she lets out should set you off in annoyance, almost like a border that’s meant to be there and never to be touched - let alone cross, fingers clasped around the nape of your neck to keep you trapped while she smiles to the small victory, “You sound surprised. I always come to work with these pairs from time to time, but you don’t leer when I want you to.” 
Her eyes flutter shut once again when you tend to her pulse point, mouth gaping open when you’re doing two things at once: soothing the warmth on her neck while your fingers work teasing her clit and walls, a punishment of sorts when she’s reeling back onto the desk with a slipping hand, her other limp gripping your forearm to not stop - but keep going. 
“How long–” Minju asks while she’s practically sliding off of the polished bark, “have you waited to do this…to me?” Strands of hair falling forward ever-so slightly in front of her forehead, hand tangled to the back of your head while your ear is pressing against the hard line of her collarbone. You don’t pay any attention to her subjective inquiry, replacing it with another strand of moans leaving her lips when you skate her ass across the table again, the bottoms of her thighs meeting yours, melting a bit more when her core rubs against the emerging bulge from between your legs. 
She knows what she’s doing, it’s a trade off of pushing buttons. Trying to get you to lose all the sensible urges just to give her what she exactly wants. 
You let your hands map out the case: her hips, the flat plane of her waist, where the peak of her hips meet at the hint of her obliques, only for your digits to spread out behind on the curve of her ass, feeling the lacy panties that might go against dress code policy because of how too fucking thin they were. Minju grins against your mouth, the exchange of hot air serving to be this addicting oxygen that you can’t get enough of. “Who knows how long I’ve wanted to have a crack at you. I just put myself off to the side because I knew that I’d never stand a chance.” 
She laughs, and you hate to admit how much you like it. The image of her being disheveled in front of you, just inches away from the fingertips; legs spread out wide on her own desk, waiting to be ruined. 
“What’s going through your head right now?” Minju asks, tossing her arm on the lower section of your waist, seizing you while failing to meet her glazed eyes. “Have you…fantasized about me? Tell me all about it. I’m intrigued. Want to know what gets you off after work.” 
And there it goes again: the banter. She’s always quick for a couple liners, sayings and slang that you’ve shared with her day in day out. Minju isn’t the kind of person to greet you with a ‘good morning’ or ‘want to get a quick drink or bite from the cafe downstairs?’ - but rather: right down to the dirty business of what she needs you to do in the long, extensive hours of the workday, dealing with clients, putting up with her and Hyewon’s bullshit, getting the necessary paperworks, and having some random beef with Yena in the break room. Minju is always quick to give you insight on what needs to happen, you also supply your own opinions and takes where Minju does accept some of them (most of the time). 
Except for this, when her cropped blazer is barely hanging off the shoulders, skirt hiked up past the peak of her thighs, displaying that wet spot in between her unbelievable legs, pulling you by the tie because she doesn’t have time for you to fucking daydream saying: “C’mon, pretty boy. You’re basically drooling in front of me and we haven’t even got to the fun parts yet–” 
She stops short when you lay the rough palm of your hand against her pussy, hushing through the cuff of her ear, grip tightening and muscles tensing in her body as if something snapped within you - which it did for a slight second - before you draw yourself back, finally looking her in the brown ambers of her eyes. 
“I had a dream once,” you finally built up the courage to start, “about being here, in your office.” landing a kiss to the corner of her lip to keep yourself focused. On a night just like this, where you’re sitting nicely on top of your desk. Your legs were spread apart like so. Minju coos when she sees you lightly licking your lips. It would’ve been better if you were already out of your clothes, naked for me. Her head dips forward when she feels the languid circles rubbed across her clit, I fucked you right here, on this desk. And then, I ruined that pretty little couch that you love so much apparently. 
“God, you’re insane.” She’s acting innocently like she too hasn’t been teasing you out and around the workplace before this. 
Insane? It becomes a little bit more deranged where Minju’s jaw drops to the floor when she hears the sinful sound of her lacy panties being ripped away from her hips. 
“Oh, I could do a lot more for you right now, and believe me, I will.” You assess the drainage when your finger plunges into her cunt; the sharp inhale she takes in while saying ‘shit’ is only brief when you’re thrown off by her walls tightening around you, her hands working the buckle of your belt and slithering past the pants. 
“And how do you suppose you’ll keep your word?” she asks, fingers coiling your cock, the reaction easily readable judging from the loss of breath through your windpipe.
“Consider this as wet work.” 
“Wet work?” 
This attractive woman who’s posture could rival classy models, with those perfect lips in both sets, the image now being unraveled like an item being auctioned off to the highest bidder: how her legs open enough for you to fill the space, the way her bra sits across her chest once the blazer is finally discarded onto the floor. (She’s pretty now, she’ll be even prettier when you have your way over her, helplessly letting these soft sounds out, coming undone over or underneath, it won’t matter either way, because that’s always the endgame.) 
“You’ve got your skirt on still,” you observe, pulling her closer to the edge of the slab, “I don’t know if-” 
“Ignoring the double entendre you made?” she gasps, struggling to keep composure when the ends of your fingers, tightening her grip around your cock while the other arm is thrown around your shoulder, “just-please-like that-fuck-oh fuck-” 
Minju sort of hides away from the immense pressure in her cunt and her clit, seeing the usual features on her face show a little more crease to them, slacking with her words, lost, feeling every bit of you, huffs of poor syllables and consonants, octaves going up in keys. You’re loving how needy she’s getting. 
What’s the matter? You whisper against her chin. You don’t seem too well. Body burning up? Too hot for you to handle? She’s gone too far off to answer, only by huffs and light nods of her head, the flex in her knees, hands across your broad back, working herself around your fingers, groaning when it gets all too much. 
The idea of staying at the firm for the night doesn’t seem that bad of an idea to do. 
“Fingers, babe,” she whines, rasping in moans at the ends of them, “fingers are too fucking good, want it- so bad-give me a–fuck-” 
Her eyes are screwed shut, clinging onto your body desperately while she starts to work the buttons off your shirt; starting in the middle rather than the top or bottom because she can’t think straight. But she diverts her hands instead to the loops on your sides, wiggling you out of your pants more - keeping herself moving while trying to ignore the throbbing that’s happening between her legs. 
“Tell me what you need, boss,” you say, a little tinge of sincerity behind the professional title. “Maybe put some solidity to this little affair?” 
Minju gives you this glare, scattered ends of her hair covering the little blush that’s all too apparent across her cheeks, failing fantastically the way she lets out this wail when your two fingers fill up her cunt completely, pulling her over the edge of the desk one last time as you mesh your hips right in the underside of her thighs, body leaning back with the arch bending a whole lot deeper, head back while you lean yourself forward that tips over a few trinkets across the desk; some picture frames fall face flat, that one pendulum set you’d always mess around with in the morning briefings nicks around in disarray, and her nameplate kinda just gets hit in the crossfire by Minju’s stray hand and onto the floor. 
“Call this,” she sputters, gasping, heaving most likely, “a hot and steamy affair.” 
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you retort, “don’t get smart with me now.” 
She just looks at you with that same sly smirk she’s been wearing whenever she teases you about anything. You find it annoying at times because of how effortless she does it, this time her breaking smile doesn’t match up with her eyes and how they are dead, sincere with a desire waiting to be fulfilled, a craving that’s been long overdue simply because you know that Minju is not an easy person to break down, though that’s been proven to be the complete opposite now. 
There’s this priming for a second, your own hand wrapped around your cock, getting close, until you nudge yourself from the first few inches inside her cunt, feeling the small press to push more, replaced with the easy glide inside the compact, yet addicting heat. It’s also kinda cute how you and Minju share this quick inhale - a hiss would be better to describe it - then you see her blown out irises, that sly smile getting more lazier, lost completely when you drag the half of your length out, slowly, steadily. 
“Wait, fuck-” she mumbles out, laying flat across the top. Her chest rises and falls a little more erratically, eyelids fluttering shut when you sink back right in, deeper this time, delicately, a little tease with the pullout before feeling her out completely. You learn for the first time ever since stepping inside that one room that day for the interview: that small thought of how it would be so easy to slot yourself right into Minju would be nothing but a pipe dream, becomes too real to relish in the feeling now. 
Then she mumbles again: “holy fucking shit.” 
You give one good snap of the hips for good measure, and the ripple effect of Minju’s body sliding across the desk, the wiggle in her perfect tits, her hands hold fast to yours around her thighs as if she’ll do the fucking all by herself while you just stand there in awe. 
But you’re good as fucked if you weren’t already, so you snap your hips back into her again, harder. Then again, filling up her perfect cunt each and every time you bottom out. You’ll take this image to your grave, let this be the last piece of evidence submitted to the judge who’ll sentence you do a much safer place in hell: MInju’s pretty body, with stockings around her perfect legs, tits sliding across her chest in every stroke, cock disappearing inside her cunt as her pretty lips fit around them with ease. 
“Minju, I - God,”, you try to tell her, the promise buried in your throat, buried underneath the air that flows right above the words, as your hips meet hers, the audible smack of her thighs filling up the office, how amazing she’s massaging your length well deep inside her, all slicked up and smooth for you to keep going. “I’ve been waiting for this- dreaming how to get you all stretched with this tight pussy. Your cunt, baby. Minju–” 
“You’ve shown me why - why I chose you, out of everyone else - show me again how good you can-” she breathes. When her mouth trails off again, because of the strokes, the clench in her pussy, hands clinging onto your wrists as you cast your own hands onto her waist. 
Eventually, nothing sounds better than the noises she makes against your collarbone, angling deeper where - you find out on the fly, and maybe something to keep in mind for later. It’s all coaxed out when you’re working her to the wall, holding her carefully while she can just keep herself stretched out, working all of the bundle of nerves across the spots inside her cunt. 
“More, honey,” and the pet names just seem to escalate as they come, do they? She sets herself up on a wobbly elbow, seeing the flex of muscle across your arms and stomach each time you rip into her, fucking her with a steady pace, but teetering on the subtle rawness, that hidden potential that sets yourself apart from the other talents you have working as one of the top employees. “Love it when you- fuck me to pieces.” 
"Anything else you want to say to me?"
“What’s also nice is that,” she continues to ramble (another thing that you’ve heard make rounds through the wings), dizziness shown in her eyes, the continuous clapping of her pulsing cunt, tightening around you, molding her into the perfect shape of - “how you continue to surprise everyone here, including me-” 
A string of curses spill out your mouth, Minju can’t help with the mix of laughs and moans at how good you feel inside her, the sight of your cock vanishing between her legs, putting one past the degree where her knee nearly touches her clothed tit, and that gets her wincing for a quick second. You’ll probably put this in a mental file, how you’ll get her to molten cunt more creaming until she cums, cums, cums and cums-
“-you’re like me, but only as a handsome guy who continues to impress-” 
Anything else that comes out of her mouth in lieu of praise will only feed that ego in your mind to get one over her, to say that you’ll always be two steps behind her while she’s five ahead. She doesn’t let you off easily, so why would you do the opposite for her? Rocking your hips towards hers makes the legs of the desk mirror the motion of your tempo, thumbs pressed up against the mold of her ribs just underneath her breasts, deep into the skin where you could also bend the bones beneath them while they rebound off of the smacks. 
You’ve got your hand over her mouth, to shut her up, eyes squinted tight to where her brows could meet in the middle, grasping onto your wrist while the muffles of your name reach higher in octaves, sobbing in her moans while she’s suffocating against the roughness of your palm.
She can’t keep focus for any moment longer, eliciting shorter gasps when you tease by slapping your cock head on the nub of her clit, gritting her teeth at the shameless tease you’re giving. 
“Can-” it’s a little sweltering to notice that she’s reduced to helpless one word blurbs, slipping inside of her once again to make her chest freeze off of the flares in her waist. “harder- i need you to-” 
The shiver that erupts through your fibers sends you in limbo, feeling Minju’s ankle anchor behind your back, serving as the reins when you stutter in pace, ass hanging off of the desk to completely bottom her out, and your cock is constantly getting soaked with a new layer of her slick each time you pull back. 
That low groan she lets out meshed with the word ‘fuck’ undermines her whole persona. Once known for being straightforward with her words, now lurching you in to keep pounding into her, slaps bouncing off the windows when she tries to perch her head upwards to see the damage, but slowly losing tension in her neck, deprived of focus when she lolls her head back to the original spot, sucking in air, sobbing even more loudly. 
“Please, like that, keep doing that, I’ll let you anything to me, just–” You could see her lip wobble a bit slightly, cunt shaped to every minute detail of your cock, “i’m so- so fucking close, you fuck me so good- so well–” 
“So tight,” you say, deep of that desired well. Minju is past the point of where the obscene words and demands can’t even be verbally said anymore. She’s whimpering, lazy wrist over her mouth again, the little strands in her hair bouncing along as one of the ripple effects caused by your length. “Gonna have you aching for me long after-” 
It’s all royally fucked. 
The way that she, oh- 
How she clamps well around you, the new coat of her arousal soaking your crotch. When you’ve edged her out past the bar and how her whole body spasms in strain and ease, she’s clutching for something within arms reach - your hands and fingers, or anything that she can grasp - while these sinful sounds unravel her from her vocal cords. Her eyes look like they can’t open at all; with the small stream of stray tears falling from her cheek. You’re also crinkling your own features, jaw hung low with the bellowing moan leaving your mouth along with hers. 
You could easily get lost in the reveling of Minju cumming over your cock, but you’re not seeing this through to the end not just yet. 
In one swift motion, you flip her over, hook her waist, pull this one party trick of stripping her bra away from her chest, pushing her back down to which she giggles slightly. “Here.” you tell her, mouth well above the lobe of her ear, hanging her ass off the desk again. “I’m just getting started.” 
Minju puts this lazy smile on her face, eyelids still closed, using whatever energy left that you haven’t dicked out of her to catch her breath, sliding her palms across the desk downwards to set herself in place. “God,” she says this as a revelation, “you are so fucking good.” 
A low chuckle is all she hears while you pull her back up against your stomach, twisting her head up to your lips, pressing them to her cheek, while she traps her bottom lip between her teeth. 
You say this as a serving rebuttal: “I’m better than good.” 
Minju can be selfish at times, always willing to put her own personal interests over yours or anyone else’s (most of the time). But when you’ve broken her down to this: knees apart, your back flush with hers on her favorite couch, pushing well past the limit, driving your cockhead down the deepest depth to where you could get it, cupping the crease where her leg and hip meet, clasping with the pads of your fingers, dragging and impaling her what could be a punishment for her - or a reward to the limitless amounts of things that she wants and receives on almost every occasion. She’s the kind of woman to play the long game, hard to get, make someone like you grind your way in order to rail her in the most intense-rough fuck that she loves (but won’t admit), or the excruciating delay of feeling every nerve binded inside her walls, where the veins of your length just graze slightly enough to feel the tense in her muscles, her hands; going limp while lazily whining at the slide of your dick inside her cunt, playing with her while she’s whimpering at you to finish the job. 
“God fucking dammit,” she manages, laying herself flat while you’re hovering right on top of her, taking your cock while she can only grip the seat covers. It’s all there, bare back and ass, the set of stockings still on her majestic thighs. You’re hitting her hips hard and heavy, the stable and slow strokes while she fills your ears with these strings of babbles that aren’t really conceivable to decipher or understand. She got a little to excited, bouncing her ass back against your cock while you just drop your arms and admired the show, before pushing deep with your balls nicking the clit at the end of every thrust, and that earns you these thick gasps, only taking you whole with every slam of your weight against her nimble body. “God, I- fuck- need you all the time, please.” 
“Whatever you want,” you hush against the crook of her neck. That is something that you’ll take to heart under oath. She croons at how you're spilling all of these filthy things in her ear, a guarantee of sorts to the promises that have already bent the both of your minds into obliviion. "If it helps to stop you from fucking those other scumbags you call 'your clients' on a weekend basis, then I'll give it to you, sweetheart."
The self-control went off the rails a while ago, this was just free real estate with the endless cantations of moans coming out of her. "Need me to cum inside this sopping cunt so badly?" you ask, pulling a handful of hair that lifts her by the neck, "love using this pussy to get myself off."
She's giggling at the action because it's necessary. You could imagine the grin on her face for the entire world to see. "Words baby, or I'll cum-"
“Fuck- just, do anything- I want you.” Minju gasps with a whine tinged behind the words. It’ll be in the records, spoken into existence. She could care more less than a fuck of what others think after all of this is over. Pace slowing down, feeling that throb tremor against her walls when you’ve held out for this long, an overdue reward in itself. 
It just took one more good hit to bury your cock into that perfect pussy, spilling everything, sending it deeper in the trenches of her cunt, fucking yourself in while she’s putting some effort to say your name, only for it to be overpowered by the gluttal moans you’re letting out while the shackles of tension finally come loose. Her head is pressed enough to leave a visible print on the cushions, crying before the shudder translates to her noises when you drive all the way in for one final time, letting the pulse die out; every heartbeat, every drop. 
Your nose is pressed into the side of her head, taking in that sweet scent from her hair, showered in bliss, tangling and untangling until she takes rest in your arms, straddling your lap, chin forming alongside the small dip in your collarbone. 
Minju offers this lazy smile, matching your rise and fall of breaths in your chest, blowing this hint of cool air to your neck that makes you twitch slightly from the sudden sensation, lips against the line of your throat: 
“A hot and steamy affair, huh? I think I can let that pass by.” 
“You really want to call it that?” you inquire, hands sliding down to the plush of her ass. 
Minju simply laughs while you shake your head at the rhetorical question. “All honesty though, I thought that you and-” 
“We are not going there.” you tell her, leaning back when she sets herself straight in your arms, hands along broad shoulders with the curtain of her hair falling towards one side. Definitely something that you’ve had in a wet dream before - talk about having deja vu. “Absolutely not.” 
It’s when she trails her fingertip across the chiseled form of muscle across your chest, elevating her hand higher to cup your face. She gives you this look in her eyes, the kind that would make anyone keel over because as you’re reminded: Minju is someone who always gets what she wants. And when she rubs her thumb across your cheek, your cock jumps a few millimeters underneath her hips to which she notices, and seizes the opportunity presented to her. 
Leaning forward with a purring whisper in the act, and you’re suspended in time while she moves. “I think I should repay you for treating me right just now.” 
Minju has never owed anything to you. For the most part in your career, it was her that has given you these chances to make a name for yourself, to prove that you could go toe to toe with the best in the court, to prove to her why she chose you out of countless others to be her associate. If anything, you owe pretty much everything to her. 
But maybe-
Maybe just this once-
“My little pretty boy needs to have his cock all cared for, right?” she asks when she sinks down to the edge of the disgraced couch, spreads your knees apart, eyes trained on you, lowering her head to swipe her tongue across your balls and the base of your shaft, feeling that same twitch in your cock when she gets a dainty hand across the length, well trained with the languid strokes that she’s giving you; it’s not hard to give in to that searing heat of her mouth while you’re trying to find the right words to respond. 
(The options here are very limited: considering the fact that you have your hips forward with your friend / partner / new love interest slobbering all over your length, rubbing the head of your cock across her pretty face until she drains you out completely, painting her cheek white and bathing in the taste of your cum while you’re struggling to stay awake. 
After all, you could just spend the night here at the firm bearing in mind how late it is. 
Or better yet, have Minju stay at your place to not give Dahyun another headache to deal with the next morning.) 
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parkersgarage · 6 days ago
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a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.
Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (`_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!
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“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.
Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.
She hates it.
A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.
“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.
“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”
A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.
“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.
Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?
If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?
“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?
She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”
“Vika, we could’ve just left—”
“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.
“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”
“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”
You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.
“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”
Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.
At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.
You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.
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can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
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literaila · 5 months ago
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I seriously love the relationship between Megumi and reader. He is in fact, a mama's boy lol
But Dadgojo and Megumi moments are cute as hell too
So herw you go a small oneshot: Little Megs would always go to reader's or Tsumiki's bedroom when he has nightmares. He already trusts you enough to see him vulnerable and goes to seek for your protection, and of course you never complain and comfort him.
But this time is different. He had a nightmare and you were on a mission and Tsumiki is staying at a friend's house.
There is only one person left in the house: Gojo.
So, with the greatest shame and irritation in the world at having to depend on his annoying and childish dad, he goes to Gojo's room because at moments like these he can't stand being alone. So he eats his shame and goes to seek for him.
You can imagine reader's surprise when she comes back home in the morning and finds Satoru and your son cuddling together on the bed, Megumi's hold on Gojo's shirt tight as both sleep peacefully.
You swear you are not like Satoru, but you can't help it but to pick up the phone and take thousands of pictures of this rare moment, knowing it wont happen again (because Megumi won't do it twice after Satoru didn't stop mocking him about it.)
honestly you might as well just write the series for me. like do you wanna look in my inbox? you can write all of the one shots currently rotting away (i’m not asking im pleading)
this is so correct though.
megumi’s just not used to not having you home. when this arrangement first began you took some time off, let satoru handle everything (as per usual) so you could take care of the kids. adapt.
when you resume your former busy schedule, both of the kids are slightly thrown off. and satoru too—because he misses you. he’s known the caress of your absence and isn’t fond of the feeling.
and now it’s megumi’s turn.
but the boy doesn’t start having serious nightmares till around seven or eight (despite the…lack of an upbringing, the rotting apartment and cuddling with tsumiki in bed so neither of them froze in their sleep).
when it happens the first time, he sits there, waiting for some answer to come. he’s a quiet, stoic kid—and he doesn’t get scared. he’s not like his soft, kind sister. he doesn’t even flinch when others would jump.
he lays there until he falls asleep again. and he won’t mention it. megumi doesn’t need to worry you or satoru (mostly you) with this.
then it happens a second time.
this time he’s woken up on the verge of tears—already passed that breaking point—and he can’t stay in bed. he can’t lay there and recall images of monsters no child should understand.
so he gets out of bed—but just for a glass of water. he’s still not scared.
though it just so happens that you’re already in the kitchen when he gets there, and it just so happens that you know things about him—just because you know—so there’s nothing he can do to hide any of it.
still, you’ll only tilt your head at him, giving him a half-sleepy smile. “hey, megs. you okay?”
“i’m thirsty.”
so you get him his glass of water and you watch while he takes tentative sips.
again, somehow you just know. the same way that megumi knows that you know.
“are you having a hard time sleeping?” you ask him, after a minute of silence.
megumi shakes his head on instinct.
you’re still smiling. “bad dreams?”
and he could lie—he’s so very used to lying about things like this. megumi doesn’t want people to see him as this little boy who needs their help. he wants an equal playing field, and he doesn’t want to be scared.
but he is.
and when it comes to you, and only you, megumi is a terrible liar.
so he nods, and your smile remains—sure as always.
“i get ‘em too,” you whisper to him. “even when i was a kid. especially then.”
“you do?”
“yup. all the time.”
“what…” megumi furrows his brows. “what do you do?”
“hmm…” you go and stand beside him at the counter, leaning your chin on a hand. “well, it depends on the dream. sometimes they’re… smaller. and i can usually sleep through those ones, but i always remember them in the morning.”
megumi nods; he has all sorts of dreams.
dreams of running around with tsumiki, of going on missions with gojo. he dreams of you in the kitchen, you telling him to keep going. and he dreams of the dark. of a house that could never be a home.
he dreams of being all alone, and when he wakes up, it feels so real that he can’t help it.
he begins to believe that it’s true.
“when i have bigger ones, though, that i can’t sleep though… well, usually i just wake satoru up.”
megumi frowns. “why?”
“he’s so irritating that i forget all about the dream.”
“oh. yeah.”
you laugh. “or i just ask him for a hug. he always says yes. or i wake him up and we steal a car and drive around for a bit,” you add, almost absentmindedly.
megumi blinks, about to interrupt, but you continue.
“sometimes i just lay in bed until i fall back asleep. or i get up and do something else—get some water,” you give him a pointed look, “so that it feels less real.”
“does it work?”
“most of the time,” you answer, so softly. and you’re right there next to him, still smiling. “wanna watch a movie or something? i’ll let you pick.”
megumi frowns. you don’t like to let them stay up late (despite satoru’s many attempts to go out for gas station ice cream at three in the morning). “really?”
“sure.”
and you sit with him on the couch, not cuddling, but close enough.
megumi listens to you laugh at the random movie he put on—something tsumiki likes—and it feels a little bit better. he feels a little less alone.
and later on, just when he’s falling back to sleep, almost slumping on you, you’ll whisper to him: “the thing about nightmares, megumi,” your hand is in his hair and your voice is almost a lullaby. “is that you can always wake up.”
so megumi gets in the habit of looking for you when he’s had a nightmare—the bad ones, like you mentioned. he doesn’t ask you for a hug, or ask you to sit with him, but you do anyway.
and somehow the two of you will end up on the couch, or in his bed, so close together that megumi can’t have another bad dream (because he’s suffocating).
but on this night—the one night where you’re not home—megumi isn’t sure what to do.
because he doesn’t want to be alone. he doesn’t want to feel trapped in his room, and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now, and why did he forget that you weren’t going to be home tonight, and—
“psst,” a voice says, a little bit amused. “why are you awake, kid?”
almost immediately megumi straightens. his arms cross like it’s a habit. and when he looks to gojo, he’s already expecting the grin. “why are you?”
“i was calling y/n. or she was calling me. it’s hard to be away from me, you know,” gojo is sprawled out on the couch, taking megumi’s spot.
“it can’t be that hard.”
gojo shakes his head, pouting. “are you awake because the guilt from all of the cruel things you say is keeping you up?”
megumi rolls his eyes. says a curt: “no,” and then pauses.
if you’re not here then what…
“what else could it be?”
“nothing,” megumi answers, immediately defensive.
gojo purses his lips, considering megumi. “why do you look weird?”
“why do you?”
“is that the only insult you’ve got?”
and finally, the boy gives in. he steps over to the couch, sitting down next to gojo (ten feet away) with his arms still crossed. “it’s late.”
“that’s no excuse, young fushiguro.”
they both sit there for a moment, staring off.
then gojo speaks up: “you know y/n would kill you if she knew you were awake, right?”
“no. she would kill you.”
“that’s…” gojo huffs. “true.”
at this, megumi lets out a grunt—it could be a laugh, could be a cough.
he doesn’t want to tell gojo about the dreams, he decides. because he doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and he doesn’t want gojo to tell you and then—
he’s not even scared. you’re gone, tsumiki is sleeping, and gojo is… staring at him.
“are you going to answer my question?”
megumi merely grunts again.
“c’mon, don’t make this awkward.”
“can’t. you already have.”
gojo scoffs, leaning back again, crossing his arms in a poor mimic. “we’ve been letting nanami watch you too much,” he says, but continues. “fine. don’t tell me. i can call y/n back right now and you can talk to—“
“no,” megumi looks over to him, wide eyes.
“then speak, kid.”
he sighs, annoyed. at least you’re right about one thing. it takes a moment, but megumi relents because he has to. “i had a bad dream.”
gojo’s face goes slack. “oh.”
megumi feels like crawling into himself, for just a moment, and then: “do you want to talk about it?”
blue eyes meet blue, and megumi frowns. “what?”
“do you want to talk about it?” gojo repeats, but… weirdly, this time. awkwardly.
“um..” is all the boy says, feeling like he should move away. like to his room away. like he should probably find someone else to live with, a random stranger, even, because that would be easier.
“i don’t know, okay?” gojo blurts out, like it was killing him not to. “that’s just what y/n asks me when i have a nightmare.”
“you have nightmares?”
gojo is running his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to go on a tangent. but when megumi asks his question, gojo pauses. he gives megumi a look. “doesn’t everyone?”
megumi scowls. “i don’t know.”
“huh. well, i have them. sometimes.”
“and you tell y/n?”
gojo snorts, shaking his head. “there’s no telling y/n anything. she just—“
“knows.”
gojo nods, giving megumi a small wink that makes the little boy want to throw up.
“so…” gojo taps his fingers on the couch. “do you want to talk about it?”
“why would i want to talk about it with you?”
“well you came out into the living room looking all… surly.”
“surly?” megumi repeats, with a face.
“down. upset. sad.”
“i’m not sad.”
“people who aren’t sad don’t need to deny that they’re sad.”
“y/n isn’t here,” megumi says, shaking his head. “i could hit you and be fine.”
gojo laughs, again, relaxing once more. because the man cannot be serious for any longer than three minutes. it’s biologically impossible. “i’d like to see you try,” he whispers, and it’s just enough.
megumi falls asleep on the couch that night. he spends another half hour arguing with gojo about whatever he says—forgetting about his dream, the reason for coming into the living room in the first place.
and when you get home, you open the door to the sight of two boys, both drooling.
megumi has his head pressed against satoru’s shoulder, hair smushed against his face. satoru is crossing his arms, face tilted towards the ceiling as he snores.
…it’s pretty obvious what happens next.
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jellinuy · 5 months ago
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(saw your announcement so imma get this in real fast) post jjk! ( everyone lives bc gege is a menace) gojo, reader, and suguru living together :3
( roommates! )
౨ৎ incl. satoru and suguru.
౨ৎ a/n. first time i've actually written something that's NOT a drabble in like forever. can't decide on a format!! also i thought of reader being like their shoko, so this is completely platonic! urrghhh sorry this took me forever
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living with the strongest duo would include...
Big house, first of all, because Satoru bought it. I’m talking, like, the three of you live in a penthouse, big.
Two VERY different sides of the house. Satoru's messy room consisting of strewn socks on the floor and food containers littered across his desk and an unmade bed and not a single cell in his brain to fix any of it until you or Suguru get on his ass: he says he has other things to worry about.
On the other hand, Suguru is something of a nagging mother when it comes to his sector of the house. Clean sheets every week, clothes in the hamper immediately after taking them off, shoes in his closet in a neat row, etc. You and Satoru like to joke about him having OCD.
Late night snack runs!! It usually starts with one of you complaining about being hungry at an ungodly hour, way too late for snacks but craving snacks anyway. It’s usually Satoru who gets you two up by video calling you from his room, making noise until you can’t take it anymore and decide to get up.
Suguru does most of the cooking. Satoru isn’t bad at it, per se, but he’s too lazy to try and so are you, let alone make big enough batches for three people.
Suguru is also lazy at times, but less than Satoru, so you two designated him as your personal chef.
Of course, there are always days when none of you feel like cooking — those are Satoru’s favorite days. You’ll order takeout (with his money), heaped in a tangle of legs and arms across the couch as you eat and binge watch whatever you three happen to find.
Suguru usually makes you guys lunch for work or school if you ask. Or even if you don’t.
Pillow fights! Or any kind of play-fight that involves throwing things at each other. They're usually initiated by Satoru when the mood strikes, and he'll literally beat you and Suguru over the head with pillows until the stuffing is everywhere or until you physically can't breathe.
A group chat! Satoru’s a frequent texter, Suguru not so much, whether it’s to show you two a picture of a stray cat he found, to ask what’s for dinner, or to beg for something.
Strangely though, when you or Suguru question him on why the trash isn’t taken out, he goes quiet.
Those two are the kind of boys who come into your room to knock something over and just leave without closing your door.
Movie nights are a must on weekends, unless one of you is extremely busy. That’s how the three of you unwind without really saying you need to unwind. You cuddle up on the couch in pajamas in one big messy heap and turn on a movie (based on who wins rock-paper-scissors) with a mountain of sugary and salty and spicy snacks at your disposal.
The three of you trust each other completely, so deep conversations are occasional, but comfortable. Neither of them would judge you for crying or being anxious or anything, and vice versa. When you need a hug, they’re there for that, too.
It’s not rare for the three of you to share a bed, or even cuddle. Granted, it took some getting used to at first, but now none of you find it weird, and it’s comforting to have a 6 foot heated body pillow, especially during the winter.
You three have an insane amount of inside jokes, and you bicker like siblings. Anyone who doesn’t get it would probably be concerned how much you insult each other.
“Shut the fuck up Suguru, didn’t you used to swallow balls?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Satoru, aren’t you still a virgin??”
“Fuck you! Y/N, what the hell are you laughing at, didn’t your date flake on you the other day??”
“Suck my dick!”
And then you’ll go back to whatever you were doing before like it didn’t even happen.
Whenever you or Suguru need to go shopping, you usually ask Satoru to Cashapp you before you go. He pretends to put up a fight, but to a guy who sees $2,000 as pocket change, he really doesn’t care. Hell, take one of his cards, go nuts.
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janeyseymour · 1 month ago
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Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 6
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.
Summary: It's been a month since Carrie's last episode.
WC: ~3.75k
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It’s been a month since Carrie’s last meltdown. And she’s returned to going out almost every night, coming home hammered, waking you to satiate her desires, and then passing out. It’s become the normal again that you drop Millie off on your own and pick her up by yourself. You’re back to rushing home to make dinner while your wife sits there and complains that your meals aren’t what they used to be- or what she wants (you don’t care; Millie likes your cooking, and she’s what matters). She’s back to a woman who rarely shows that she cares about her wife or child.
But at least she hasn’t harmed you again yet. She hasn’t even started an argument yet. But that would change.
When you pick your daughter up today, Millie has a paper in her hand that she gives right to you. And then her teacher is making her way over to you.
“Y/N!” Melissa smiles at you.
You return the smile. “Miss Schemmenti.”
“I was hoping to catch you before you took off for the night. Conferences are coming up in two weeks, and I was hoping that both you and your wife could be in attendance,” she tells you.
You grimace. “I know that I will definitely sign up for a conference to see what my little rascal has been up to,” you promise as you ruffle your girl’s hair. “But Carrie… I’m not sure. I’ll see what I can do.”
“I really would like it if both of you could come,” she tells you flatly.
You nod. “I’d like that too, but…” you trail off. What you want to say is that it seems you’re the only parent that cares- that you’re essentially a single mother when it comes to Millie. But you can’t. So you don’t.
“Well, that was all,” the redhead shrugs. “Have a nice night now.”
“You too,” you sigh as you take your daughter’s hand and begin to lead her towards the sidewalk for the walk home.
Your journey home is light. It’s painless, and Millie tells you all about how she just loves Melissa- how she’s having so much fun at school. You could not be more grateful for that. Abbott may not produce the best test scores or have the finest resources in the area, but the kids have fun and are able to be kids. The teachers care for their students like their own. You know you made the right choice when you enrolled your sweet little girl at Abbott. Had she gone to another school, she would not be the generous and thoughtful person she’s blossoming into.
As per usual, Carrie is sitting on her laptop when you walk in. She does not look happy. Still, you make your way over and greet her with as much warmth as you can muster up. As you do so, you set the paper detailing conferences in front of her.
“What’s this?” your wife asks, and it’s clear she’s not thrilled that you’re setting this paper down for her to see.
“Millie’s school is holding conferences in two weeks. I thought it might be nice for you to go with me to meet with Miss Schemmenti.”
“Melissa?” Carrie’s eyes light up.
“To speak about Millie,” you emphasize.
Your wife’s blue eyes stare at you for a long second. “Yes,” she gets ahold of herself. “To speak about Millie.”
“Just tell me which day and time works best for you, and I’ll arrange to take a half day,” you tell your wife as you make your way to the refrigerator.
“Can we sign up for all of them?” Carrie licks her lips.
You chuckle softly. “I don’t think we need that much time with Miss Schemmenti.”
“But what if I do?” your wife’s eyebrows go up, and you can see the longing in her eyes.
Your mouth drops open in shock, and you’re so glad you quickly turn away from the woman you call a wife. Is she seriously thinking about your daughter’s teacher in such a way, out loud, to you?
You don’t even dignify her a response to that question. “Just please let me know by tomorrow morning so I can take off work.”
Carrie’s eyes scan over the times on the papers. “That Wednesday at 12:30 works for me.”
“I’ll get in touch with Miss Schemmenti, but I will need you to meet me there because I’ll have to cone straight from work.”
“Let me,” your wife smiles dreamily. “I can reach out and let her know when we’re coming.”
The more naive side of you takes over, and you manage to close your mouth. “Really? Thank you.”
Your wife does email Melissa. But she tells Melissa an earlier time for that day- a time where she knows that you’ll still be working for your half day and she can show up on her own. And the teacher is none the wiser to question it, because for once Carrie does it through your email, knowing you never look at your outbox. She signs the email as you, and all is taken care of.
The day of conferences, you’re able to get one of your daughter’s friends to have her over so Millie doesn’t disturb Carrie while she’s working. You get your little girl up and out the door before heading out for your own job. Your wife is still asleep when the door closes behind you quietly.
She isn’t asleep for long though, because she has a meeting with Melissa. She gets herself ready- dresses to the nines, and takes the car to the school.
Carrie knocks on the doorframe of the classroom where Melissa is. The redhead looks up, expecting to see you- but all she can see is your wife, whose cleavage is out far more than necessary for a parent-teacher conference.
“Good morning,” Melissa says as cordially as possible. Her eyes refuse to look at your wife’s chest- that would just be disrespectful. Yes, she noticed, but who wouldn’t notice with the top the woman is wearing. “I’m so glad you could be here. Where is Y/N?”
“Not feeling well,” Carrie lies through her teeth as her eyes wander up and down the redhead’s figure. “But I promised her I would come over by myself.”
“To speak about Millie,” the teacher makes sure to add on.
Carrie nods. “Of course.”
“Perfect. Well, Millie’s been doing a real nice job in reading- her decoding of words and knowledge of certain base words and root words is really helping her along. With this, her writing is excelling at a fast rate. She’s on track to be writing at an emerging fourth grade level by the end of the school year.”
“That- that’s wonderful,” your wife smiles as she adjusts her shirt so the top of her bra is showing, and the curve of her breasts are spilling out over top.
The redhead ignores this advance. She looks Carrie in the eye as she continues on to explain more about Millie’s progress in the English Language Arts. And then she switches to begin speaking about mathematics, and Carrie can’t take it anymore.
“My tits are down here,” she states, and even gestures to them.
Melissa’s mouth drops just slightly before she composes herself again. “We are not here for that, Carrie. We are here to discuss Mill-”
“Oh, enough about her. I want to know about you,” Carrie says seductively, throwing in a wink.
“And I would like to continue speaking about how well your daughter is doing in school so you can relay it to your wife,” Melissa reiterates. “As I was saying, Millie is a bright little-”
“Are you really rejecting me right now? When I look like this?”
The teacher looks up to the sky, wondering what the hell she’s supposed to do about this right now. “Carrie, I say this in the most respectful way possible: I am not interested. You have a wife, and a daughter- who is my student. We are here to talk about Millie and how well she is-”
“Yeah, yeah, how Millie is so great because she’s so much like her other mother. This is outrageous.” Your wife storms out of the room before Melissa can get in another word.
The second grade teacher can only stare in the direction of the door. And then she has to prepare for the next conference. There isn’t much time in between meetings.
You, sitting at your desk, are blissfully unaware of the fact that Carrie had orchestrated that meeting. The one thing that your wife hadn’t thought about when planning to get Melissa alone? She entirely forgot to lie to you and tell you that the time slot you had planned on was ‘taken’. She figures that you’ll forget anyway. But you don’t. Why would you forget about something regarding Millie and her schooling? So at noon, you pack your things up and begin to make your way down to Abbott Elementary to meet with Melissa.
You have to hustle to get there on time, but you make it. You allow yourself to catch your breath before you knock on the doorframe of the classroom. The redhead is in the middle of eating her lunch, and you feel slightly bad for interrupting her meal- but she’s expecting you. Her eyes lift to you, and then her brows furrow in confusion. Okay, maybe she wasn’t expecting you?”
“Y/N?” the teacher asks, clearly lost. “This is a surprise.”
“What do you mean? Carrie told me that she scheduled our conference for 12:30 today,” you explain. “Did I get the time wrong?” You pull out your phone and scroll to your calendar. No, it’s right there in writing that you were scheduled for a conference at this time.
“Carrie came in earlier today for the conference that you scheduled,” Melissa tells you. “And she told me you weren’t feeling well.”
“Well, I’m clearly feeling just fine,” you mutter as you make your way a bit further into the room. You set your bag on the closest desk.
The redhead opens her email and pulls up the message from you, or she supposes it was Carrie now, before reciting it back to you. 
“She didn’t sign it as herself though,” the teacher shrugs. “Used your name, and the email that you usually keep in contact with.”
“That- that’s odd, I must say. I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding,” you sigh softly. “I apologize for the confusion. Are you still available to chat about Millie’s progress with me?”
“Yeah, alright,” Melissa agrees as she finishes off the last of her salad. She proceeds to tell you what she was attempting to tell your wife, and she is actually able to get through all of the things she wanted to highlight with the both of you. It ranges from her academics to the fact that your little girl has one of the biggest hearts the redhead has seen from a child.
You can’t help but smile. Millie is a bright girl, she’s a sweet girl, and her teacher doesn’t have enough good things to say abut her. You make sure to tell Miss Schemmenti that the feeling is mutual- that Millie absolutely adores her and is always telling you how she is so happy to have Melissa as her teacher.
“She’s a special little girl,” the redhead tells you with soft eyes. “And quite resilient, what with everything that was going on a month ago.”
You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. You still don’t want to confirm that Carrie was abusing you and it’s only a matter of time before it begins happening again. So instead, you glance at your watch. “Well, I really do appreciate you taking this time to speak with me about Millie. And again, I’m quite sorry for the confusion of conference times.”
Finally, the woman sitting at the desk can’t hold back anymore. “Y/N, I don’t think there was any confusion. At least not on my end.”
A brow of yours creeps up your forehead. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your wife made her intentions pretty clear with me today,” Melissa sighs. “I don’t think there was any sort of mix up on her end.”
“Huh?” You lean forward just a bit to continue to get her to talk.
The redhead reluctantly explains what had happened- how Carrie had come in with a shirt that was entirely inappropriate, only drew attention to it, and had fully hit on her.
Your heart is broken by the end of it. You’re absolutely mortified. “I- I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing for you to apologize about,” Melissa tells you. “Just… be careful, okay?”
You nod. “Thank you for your time, Melissa.”
You allow yourself some time to not confront your wife right away. You have the rest of the afternoon off, you don’t have to pick up Millie until three, and you need space to think and breathe about how you’re going to handle this situation that you’ve found yourself in.
Stopping at your favorite little coffee shop, you pay for a drink and settle in by the window. People watching has always helped relax you and clear your head to be able to sit in your own thoughts and feelings. 
Then you’re on your way to pick up Millie. She’s so excited to see you again, and your heart soars when she hugs you and kisses your cheek- not caring that her friend sees. Millie is such a little love bug, and you hope that never changes. You thank her friend’s mother for keeping her for the day, and then you’re off.
“What did Miss Schemmenti have to tell you?” your little girl asks.
Your mind immediately goes to what she had to say about Carrie and the stunt that she pulled. For a split second, you see red. But then you look down and see that your daughter is so eager to hear what her favorite teacher had to say about her, and your heart softens again.
“Miss Schemmenti had great things to say,” you tell Millie. You go on to relay all of the wonderful things that the redhead had told you about your daughter academically, but you really make sure to make her aware of the fact that Melissa was so impressed with her empathy and sympathy for others. “And I am so proud of you for being such a sweet little girl.”
Your daughter’s smile is bright- brighter than usual. She practically skips home while you watch her. You are so thankful that Millie seems to be taking after you, as opposed to your wife. In a fight of nature versus nurture, your daughter is all nurture- and you couldn’t be more pleased with the bright, kindhearted child you are raising.
Of course, in thinking that, your mind wanders to your wife- your wife who blatantly lied to you about the time of conferences in order to flirt with the second grade teacher. By the time you walk through the front door, your mood has soured once more. 
Carrie is sitting at her place, and while you would usually make your way over to her and kiss her cheek, you refrain from that action. Instead, you quietly kick your shoes off and make your way into the kitchen with your daughter to begin preparing dinner.
“What?” your wife practically yells. “No hello? No I love you? No how was your day?”
You don’t even give her a dignified response, just a soft hum as you open up the refrigerator.
“Excuse you?” Carrie begins to seethe. She hates being ignored.
“Millie, go to your room please,” you request. “I have to talk to your mother.”
“But we’re makin’-”
“Now, Amelia,” you say in a tone that leaves no room for arguments. Then you soften. “Please, honey.”
At her full first name, your daughter frowns, but she listens and makes for the steps. Only once you’re positive that your little girl is in her room do you turn and glare at your wife.
“So, I found something interesting out today,” you say, and there’s an edge in your voice that you haven’t heard from yourself in a long while.
“And that would be?”
“That you had a conference with Miss Schemmenti today,” you state cooly. “You seem to have forgotten that you told me we were going to meet with her at 12:30 today.”
“Is that what I said?” Carrie feigns confusion. “I could’ve sworn I said earlier in the day.”
“Cut the shit, Car,” you hiss. There’s a fire in you that you thought you lost, but here it is. “She told me you told her I wasn’t feeling well. She told me all about how you were flirting with her, hitting on her.”
“So what if I was?”
“You aren’t even going to deny it?” you raise a brow and fold your arms over your chest.
“So what if I did? She’s hot, and it’s not like you put out anymore these days.”
“I can’t believe you,” you seethe. “I can’t fucking believe you. Do you know how mortifying it was to hear that my wife was flirting with our daughter’s teacher?! God, I-”
“What am I supposed to do?” Carrie’s voice raises in volume. “It’s not like we ever fuck anymore! It’s not like you care anymore!”
Your jaw drops open, and you move in her direction. “How dare you tell me I don’t care anymore. How fucking dare-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, because in one swift moment, your wife strikes you against the cheek.
Her perfectly manicured nail points directly at you. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you bitch.”
“I’ll talk to you however you want.” You’ve finally hit your breaking point. “I’ve put up with this shit for long enough, Carrie. I’m fucking done.”
“Done with what?”
“You.”
“Like hell you are,” your wife gets even closer to you. “You leave me, I’ll be just fine, baby. It’s you who won’t. The broken, pathetic, little bitch that you are won’t ever find love again because nobody could ever be foolish enough to fall in love with you.”
“Maybe I don’t need it,” you hiss. “I have enough love in my life with my daughter.”
“She isn’t your daughter. I’m the one who carried her. I’m the one who gave birth to her. I went through all that fucking shit because you couldn’t,” Carrie reminds you as she gets so close that you can smell the alcohol in her breath. At this moment, you know you should back down. Back down to keep yourself safe, your mind screams at you. But something in you doesn’t listen, and you only continue this fight.
“She’s my daughter,” you argue. “You only tell me that every fucking day of our lives- and it’s not like Millie even fucking loves you. You’re a stranger to her because you never pay her any-”
There’s another blow to your cheek. Despite every feeling of wanting to strike her back, you refrain. You absolutely refuse to sink down to that woman’s level. Instead, you tenderly hold where your cheek stings. The fire that you thought had returned leaves your body as quickly as it had entered.
“Fuck you!” Carrie roars. “Fuck you!”
Before you know it, she’s really flying off the handle. Things are being thrown, glass is being shattered, your cheek stings more than ever now that right under your eye is cut with a sharp piece of ceramic. You feel the blood begin to trickle down your-
“Momma?” Millie’s eyes are wide as she peeks around the corner at the scene before her.
“Mill, go upstairs,” you whisper. “Go.”
“Amelia, stay,” Carrie bites out.
The little girl’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, clearly unsure of what to do. “Momma, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mill,” you say softly, keeping your voice as warm and as even as possible, despite the fact that you are anything but calm. You turn towards her, and boy is that a mistake. Blue eyes land on the cut on your face, and she’s racing for you.
“Your mother is just learning her lesson,” your wife hisses. “She’s fine.”
Your daughter looks enraged as she realizes what Carrie is saying. The next few seconds are a blur, and you aren’t really sure what’s happening until you see your wife raise a hand towards your daughter. Your maternal instincts take over, and you grab Millie as quickly as you can, holding her close to you. You take the blow instead of your daughter. And then you’re off. You have your keys in your hand, and you leave the house.
Millie is hysterical. Of course she is. Her mother just almost struck her, and she watched as you got struck. She sees the blood trailing down your face through the rear view mirror.
“You’re okay, baby,” you try to soothe. “You’re alright.”
Your little girl’s sobs are enough to break your heart. You don’t know what to do. Should you go to the hospital? Should you head down to the police station? What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You have no idea.
You continue to drive in circles for what feels like forever. And then you make a turn, and Abbott Elementary is in your view. You remember the sticky note that your daughter’s teacher had given you a month ago. You see that the parking lot is still filled with the cars of the teachers- still stuck there for conferences. Before you know it, your car is parked. Millie’s hand is in your own as you make your way into the school and down to the classroom that you enter everyday.
Melissa is sitting at her desk, glasses on the tip of her nose as she mindlessly scrolls through her phone. Her conferences have been over for an hour now, but she’s still being forced to stay. Your knock on her doorframe has her jump, clearly not expecting anybody to enter her classroom. Her eyes lock with yours, and her face falls.
“Y/N, are you- are you alright?” She’s standing and in front of you in an instant.
You shake your head. And then the words come tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Please. Please save me. Save me before I lose myself.”
Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Just Friends: Can I Take Your Order?
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
masterlist
Summary: Bucky pays you a surprise visit.
It’s giving
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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Your work isn’t hard per se, but it can be chaotic. Still, your tips more than make up for all the running around, but not necessarily the ridiculous attire. You’re not entirely unhappy, it’s exciting even if it can be stressful. 
The diners always keep you on your feet. Literally. You run around, table to table, that night dressed as the infamous Dorothy who’s too far from Kansas. Somewhere around their, a lion, scarecrow, and tinman are taking orders and entertaining children at their seats. 
The themed restaurant isn’t really the place you would go, but it’s a family-friendly venue in a city overcrowded with more adult attractions. The money keeps a roof over your head. You won’t complain for that. 
The Oz room is overflowing and you can see more customers in the lobby. Please send them over to Mary Poppins’ Pop-In. You don’t have time to dread the new wave of diners as you bring a tray of desserts to a table with three blustering toddlers. You could never. 
“Anything else?” You ask as you put out the stemmed cups of banana pudding pie. 
“The check--” the father demands before he’s hit in the face with a stray straw. He grits back his agitation and forces a smile, “thanks.” 
You pick up the straw and leave him. As you do, you pass Graham, that night’s scarecrow. He lowers his voice as he follows you to the till. 
“Can you get the next table, please? I’m dying for a smoke. Any longer and I’m going to smack one of these brats,” he mutters. 
You smile at him. You find the nights go by quicker without breaks. “No problem! On it. I just need to get this bill printed out.” 
You toss the straw and tap the till. You pull up that table and print it out, tucking it into one of the little folders. You grab a handful of hard candies and sweep back across the dining room. 
“Here ya are, enjoy your desserts,” you say and carry on. 
You peer around, searching for the new diners. Right there in the corner. You head over in your pig-tailed wig and red shoes. As you near, your chest flickers. You think you know the back of that head. No, it’s not. He wouldn’t be here... 
You’re all but assured of your suspicions by the golden hair of the man across from him. A third to round out party. You cringe before you muster a smile and come to the side of the table. 
“Welcome to the Land of Oz,” you recite your mandatory introduction and avoid looking at Bucky, “don’t stray too far or you might find a wicked witch or flying monkey to carry you off. May I start you with some drinks?” 
“You got cocktails at a joint like this?” Bucky scoffs. 
You refuse to look at him, “the menu’s right there.” You point beside the centerpiece. He chuckles. 
“This is cute, how’d you find this place, Buck?” The blond asks. The man better known as Captain America. 
“Hmm, this place would be fun to you two geriatrics,” their other companion says. That’s the Falcon. 
You can feel Bucky watching you. He’s smirking. You know it. At least when you see him, you only ever have your stupid dress on. You take the wig and makeup off before you go home. It attracts less weirdos. 
“So, we do have beer, despite what you might think,” you offer. 
“Got prune juice? These two need it--” Falcon, rather Sam Wilson, chortles and receives an elbow to the ribs. 
“We have cranberry,” you suggest. 
“Where’s Toto?” Bucky asks. 
You hold back as sigh and finally meet his eyes, “no dogs allowed.” 
“Damn, sounds like you should go then, eh, Buck,” Sam adds. You grin as he cackles. 
“Hey,” Bucky sneers. “Just water for me.” 
“No milk to keep your bones strong?” The Captain, or Steve, kids. 
“You’re a year younger, shut up,” Bucky huffs. 
“I’ll get a water too,” Steve smirks. 
“Get me a Miller,” Sam says, “please.” 
“No problem. I’ll be back with that and some menus.” 
You spin and strut away. It feels good to see him getting teased because you know he only came here to mock you. You can’t exactly follow him to his work and make fun of his arm. Not that you would. 
You get the water and beer and return to the table with menus under your arm. You hand them all out and give them some time to look over it. You check in with your other tables before you go back again. 
“So, have we made up our minds?” You smile. 
Steve smiles at you, “uh, can I ask what kinda fish it is?” 
“Cod, sir,” you answer as you lean in to see where he points on the menu. 
“Ah, thanks.” 
“You got any recommendations?” Sam asks. 
“I usually go straight to dessert,” you smile, “but the spaghetti is yummy. And you can get it spicy.” 
“Oh, you like it spicy?” Bucky snickers. 
You look at him and Steve clears his throat, “Buck.” 
“Yikes, dude. You got lines, huh?” Sam teases. 
“No, I just--” he gets flustered and rolls his eyes. “Can I have the cheeseburger and fries?” 
“Sure thing,” you take out your notepad. 
“I’ll have the fish and chips,” Steve says, “is it possible to add an extra filet?” 
“Yeppers,” you nod and jot it down. 
“Think I’ll get the meatball sandwich,” Sam says, “apparently, I like meatballs.” 
Steve scowls again and Bucky sighs. You tap your pen on the pad, “alrighty. I’ll go put your order in.” 
“Thanks, doll.” Sam winks at you. 
You smile and as you turn, you hear Bucky hiss, “doll? Since when do you call anyone doll?” 
You make a face but don’t pay much mind to their arguing. He did mention his other friends could be a bit much. Based on that interaction, you’d say he’s just as bad. 
You put the ticket in the window and turn back. As you go back to the family to get the bill and your tip, your eyes snag on Bucky. He cranes around to see you and waves at you with two fingers. Oh, you have to get him back for this. 
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cannibalisation · 13 days ago
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i. not a lot, just forever
poly wolfstar/fem!reader
it doesn’t take much to keep yourself safe, yet it is still a challenging task for most. surrounding yourself with those who maintain warmth seems to do the trick, luckily you have remus and sirius, and they have you. (3.4k)
caution. injuries following lycan transformations, remus uses a walking cane, mentions of sirius’ family, gore/blood(?), bullying, reader has a bird animagi form.
i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.
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sewn together. 
ONE of the window latches in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory was broken. Fortunately, it’s the window right by Remus’s bed. A playful mishap between the group of them caused a book to go flying at it, shattering one of the glass panels. The window was repaired with a spell Peter had cast, but he was never able to mend the bolt. That's what makes it easy to sneak in when it’s past curfew. 
Remus lies atop the covers tonight; he only managed to shuffle the pants of his nightwear on. The plaid shirt was thrown haphazardly on the crest of his bed frame. Faint lines of gauze wrapped around his torso are visible beneath his chalk-white polo shirt. They’re stained with a muffled red; he must’ve bled quite heavily. 
The matron healer did an exquisite job as per usual. Neat fastenings of bandages; his wounds were clean. Though you would’ve preferred if Madam Pomfrey tried a little bit harder to convince Remus to stay the night in the hospital wing. 
This month's full moon was one of the hardest for some reason; you have an inkling that your presence was a contributing factor. Remus usually insists that you should stay far away from him when he changes, and he didn't even intend on revealing his lycanthropy, but Sirius persuaded him to change his mind. 
As soon as the truth came to light about his furry friend, you immediately urged him to let you help—in any way possible. The two of them were very strict regarding the routine, and in turn, you were very understanding. Sirius had been extremely reliant on your aerodynamic abilities, as your Animagus form held avian qualities. 
Remus was still on the fence about it, but with a few honeyed words and gentle (manipulative more so) kisses from you and Sirius, he was convinced. The transformation process created significant agitation, which only increased in intensity over the course of the week. 
He was clearly more possessive than usual, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't entertaining. Neither you nor Sirius complained about Remus's insatiable want for affection; the two of you were never to be out of his sight. It was especially difficult during the day due to your separate schedules; after supper, you were confined to his dorm room. 
It was abnormal for the quiet boy you’ve grown to love to act in such a way. More often than not, it was more common for Sirius to act like this, treating public displays of affection like he would a new toy he got for Christmas. That’s what was most likeable about him; he was irrevocably himself. Remus was the opposite; they both stabilised one another nicely. 
Often it was like you were intruding, that you didn’t fit in as well as they did. A whiff of these thoughts, and they were quick to dismiss any negative feelings, and that was greatly appreciated. A balanced scale needs its anchor after all. 
Much to your delight, James and Peter did not make themselves at home in the boys dorm—they must’ve both been warming someone’s bed tonight. 
You have a vague idea of where James might be, but Peter leaves you in mystery. For all you know, he could be sneaking around with a Slytherin or two; that sounds like something he’d do anyway. 
Sirius is curled up in his own bed opposite Remus’. He watches with a soft look as you sit yourself down beside the injured boy. Much to your dismay, he had stayed in such a position as you attempted to crawl through the open window, chuckling quietly to himself at your struggles. 
Remus shivers as your hand brushes his mousy-brown curls before settling against it. How soft he looks when he’s like this. 
“He’s been asking for you in his sleep.” Sirius whispers, toying with the chequered quilt he lays beneath. You give Remus a once-over before looking back at the other boy. Sirius smiles lightly when that happens and pulls back the blanket so it sits just above his ribs. 
An invitation; he wants you to join him in his bed. And you desperately want to, but Remus needs you. Amidst his sleep, he blindly searches for your hand, and you comply by locking your fingers with his. 
The small tick in his brow soothes over, and he hums contentedly when you brush your forefinger against his palm. 
“He’s been saying your name.”
Your free hand finds purpose in Remus’ hair once more. “Cute, does he say yours?”
“No. I think it’s because he knows I’m here already. Perhaps I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” He taunts. Locking eyes again, you give him a humoured glare in disappointment. Of course he’d tease Remus about mindless sleep talks. 
One time, in a fit of anger, you had cast a spell in the general direction of Severus Snape (he had spoken ill of a fellow house member; what else were you supposed to do?). The dunce had managed to move out of the way just in time, causing the spell to hit Professor Flitwick. 
With a fresh pair of stag antlers perched on his head, the professor took away fifteen points from Gryffindor. It was a brief reprimand; still, Sirius has yet to let you live it down. He still makes jokes about it with James to this day. 
“I beg to differ.” Remus interrupts; he must’ve been awoken by the playful conversation. “I just don’t really like you.” He jokes, grazing his nimble fingers along the surface of your linked hands. 
Sirius scoffs before tugging at his blanket, pulling it up over his head so he can hide beneath it. “That is a lie; you love me, Moons.” His voice is muffled from underneath the quilt. 
Chuckling quietly, you continue to brush through Remus’ hair. He had always been appreciative of such services; often you could be found with your hands perched in his curls. 
Sirius instead preferred when you played with his hands. Fiddling with the brass and silver rings that decorate his lithe fingers always makes his heart grow fonder. 
You were prone to favouring back scratches, but you’d never tell them that. 
You lean downwards and press a small kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling?” 
“Much better now. The madam gave me a Calming Draught and then I fell asleep.” He said slowly, observing you with a loving look that would make anyone’s heartbeat stutter. “What about you? Didn’t frighten you too much, did I?” You shake your head; he could never scare you. 
From the corner of your eye, you see Sirius rolling around in his bedsheets. With an exaggerated huff, he throws the covers off and flicks at his hair with one hand. He must be bothered by the lack of attention from the both of you. 
He turns his head and squints at you with faux anger, and you have half the mind to laugh in his face. Not a good idea, though; it would probably make him more annoying. 
Then he leaps from the confines of his bed with such haste it makes Remus flinch. He rolls from his bed and lands on the rugged ground. He continues to roll over until he reaches the foot of Remus’ bed. Now the whole room is lightened with soft laughter. Remus decides to stick out his free hand to dangle it over the edge of the bed. 
Like a dog with a bone, Sirius grabs a hold of it and entwines his fingers with Remus’. 
Every full moon will be hard; Remus knows that much. The process will never get easier to recover from; it will always eat at him. But so long as he has the two of you with him, he might be okay. 
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bears the weather
Winter break was never easy for Sirius Black. Normally, he’d choose to stay on school grounds for the holidays. You’d often stay too, out of solidarity, and Remus would always bring treats back from his family home in Wales. 
This year, though, Sirius had been owled a letter from his mother, instructing him to come home over the break. 
He didn’t want to, that much you could tell. Sirius did not cry when he said that he would not be at Hogwarts for this year's Christmas holiday, but his eyes did gloss over, and his voice was terribly shaky. 
He became dismissive throughout the last week of classes; you were not able to comfort him in the way you had hoped to—for how are you to comfort a boy unloved?
He didn’t contribute to many conversations on the train ride back to King’s Cross Station; Remus had told you not to worry, but even he looked dejected. 
Sirius had briefly embraced you and Remus and claimed that he would write to the both of you. With a forlorn gaze, you watched as he and his younger brother made their way from the platform. 
A total of three letters, marked with the wax sigil of House Black, were delivered to your doorstep. How fitting that the owl that did so was ebony in feathers, a clear indicator of its keeper. The beast had tried biting at your fingers when it let go of the envelope. 
On the contrary, fourteen letters with Remus’ name smudged on the top were sent to your house by post. 
There were a couple of days during the winter break when you met up with Remus and some of your mutual friends. You had a joyous time ice-skating and drinking hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. An invite was sent to Sirius on both of your parts, but much to your grief, he did not show. It was lovely seeing and spending time with Remus, but it was clear that the both of you felt as if something was missing. 
Before you knew it, school was back, so were the uniforms and casted spells. The spring term always went by quickly, though the tension between the three of you was stifling. Sirius had been cold for the first week back; it was like the winter weather had made its home in his form. 
Though he gradually warmed up, there was something unusual about it. A strain in his shoulders or a furrow in his brow that had yet to settle, even when he slept. It ate at your heart that you couldn’t seem to figure out how to help him. Others were starting to notice too.
“Hey, is Pads doing alright?” 
Lily Evans, ever the gentle soul. It comes as no surprise that she was worried. You pause at her question, inked quill hovering over the smudged parchment. 
“He’s fine. I suppose.”
“Have you spoken to him much? I’ve only ever seen him at dinner time or in class.” 
You shake your head quietly and keep your gaze fixed on the paper. She is right after all. Sirius spends most of his time holed up in the dorm room, and no, you haven’t really had the chance to speak with him. Most of the time he’d be right with you now. In the library, studying for exams—or more so distracting you from studying. 
He isn’t, though; today it's just you and Lily sitting at a lone table in an alcove, hidden behind the many towering shelves of books. 
Although you can’t see it from where your gaze is fixed, the inquiring gaze of Lily Evans is harsh against your neck. 
“It’s just—” you start, strangling the feather quill with vigour. “I don’t know what to say. He’s struggling, that's clear, but I don’t know how to help him.” Such a stuttered confession makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s something to do with Lily’s ambience that makes you go soft. She smiles delicately at your apparent demise. 
“Maybe you don’t need to say anything? Just let him know, in any way you can, that you're there. For him.” 
“You’d serve as a mighty fine therapist if this witch thing doesn’t work out for you, Lilyflower.” You mutter with a half-hearted smile. The russet-haired girl only hums with a small grin and turns back to her own parchment. “You’re lucky I’m not charging you for my wise words of wisdom.” 
You ponder Lily’s words on the lone journey back to the Gryffindor common room. 
Sirius Black was not a fragile individual, a quality that is quick to be learned. He was undeniably a brave soul; he didn’t let much get to him. The topic of his family, the noble and most ancient house of Black, was an arduous one; he could hardly speak their names without choking up. You and Remus knew this well and made sure not to bring them or even your own families up in conversation. 
It was a good few years ago that you had first been acquainted with Walburga Black. It was a short introduction when you were in your youthful age, therefore, you don’t remember much. Regardless, even in your earliest of life, did you realise that she wasn’t the kindest of people. Her eyes had frightened you the most, beady and almost pitch-black. They scanned over you like a predatory animal would when it spots its prey. 
That moment was all it took to notice the animosity she held for most. Sirius’ eyes were similar in colour, but they were so much more gentle. 
When Remus told you that he had never met Sirius' family before, you promised yourself that if you could, you would protect him from them and any other pure-blood zealot. 
Your eyes lock with James Potter’s as soon as you walk in through the portrait door. Somehow he is all-knowing and nods his head in the direction of the stairs leading up to the boys dorm rooms. Nodding back to him in gratitude, you make your way up the creaky steps posthaste. 
Remus is sitting upright on his twin-sized bed, watching over a curled-up Sirius. He glances up at you with melancholic eyes and gives you a small smile. 
You approach Sirius' bed quietly and take in the pile of blankets and pillows there. He observes as you sit down next to Remus, having only his face visible from underneath. To your delight, Sirius appears to be more content than he has been in a long time. His head rests on one of the cushions, his dark curls strewn about. You gently hush him when he stirs under the warmth of the covers.  
“It’s okay,” you murmur, leaning your head on Remus’ shoulder. “I’m here.”
Yes, Sirius thinks. You’re here.
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sheds her feather
Muggles would never know the true rapture of flying. Sure, they could board a plane and take to the skies—but it would never feel the same as spreading your wings in the breeze. 
Each sliver of wind could be felt in your feathers, urging you to go faster, higher, forever. Though you’d never say it aloud, you’ve thought on many occasions to just spend the rest of your life in the sky.
You’ve always been a curious child. At least that's what Mother had believed, especially since you had snatched a coin purse from someone as a child and given it to her when you heard her gripe about money on the phone. She had been horrified and gave you a slap on the wrist in return. 
Her reaction did not ail you; often your closest companions are gifted something shiny in appearance.
Sirius was ecstatic when he was gifted an argentate ring engraved with a wolf signet, and Remus embraced you warmly with a soft kiss when you handed him a sterling silver novella bookmark—it had a small etching of a dove bird on it; you thought he’d appreciate it most. 
In a hasty manoeuvre, you land on a railing of the Astronomy Tower. With a ruffle of midnight-black feathers, it returns you to your natural form. 
The transformations have gotten much better than what they were originally. The first time you ever attempted it, you crashed into a tree and broke your wrist. That hadn’t been an easy one to explain to Madam Pomfrey. 
A shot of pain saddles up your leg, causing you to gasp loudly in shock and crumble to the floor. 
It was foolish to assume the flimsy bandaging you had done was adequate enough to halt the bleeding. 
The linen wrapped around your leg was stained with a bright crimson, nothing too bad to worry the nurses about it though. 
The most recent Quidditch game was won by Gryffindor; the losing team, Slytherin, was obviously not pleased with the results. A group of students had managed to corner you right after classes had finished for the day, and they must've been searching around for something to burn their energy off on. Unfortunately, that just happened to be you.
The Diffindo charm was not often used out of malice, but that didn’t seem to stop this particular Slytherin boy. The slash was embedded deep enough into the skin of your leg, causing a significant amount of blood. The cruel group of seventh-years draped in green ran off before you could react properly.
As luck would have it, you managed to sneak into the hospital wing undetected and quietly bandage yourself up. A clatter of objects from behind a curtain had spooked you enough into transforming and flying out an open window. 
The pain in your leg had majorly subsided whilst in Animagi form; perhaps the wind has healing properties. 
But now as you were crouched over in the tower, it’s clear that is not the truth of it.
A clamour of footsteps sounds out in the winding tower, and you attempt to transform again. To no avail, as the pain is too much to bear, so instead you brush back your uniform skirt as it had ridden up. 
Sirius makes himself present with a whistle; Remus shakes his head as he trails after him. The wooden cane that he’s taken recent use to creaking under his form. 
“We saw you flying overhead when we were walking back from Herbology.” Sirius confirms with a grunt as he sits down cross-legged. It was common for you to take off from the tower as it was the highest point in Hogwarts and generated the most adrenaline.
“Thought we could beat you here, but no, you’re just too fast!” He praises. 
Remus manages to sit down as well, without any help. You nod in compliment, trying to mask the pain in your leg. Sirius doesn’t notice the way your face screws up as he drones on about class, but like always, Remus does—probably some weird werewolf gene. 
“You alright, love?” He intervenes, Sirius stops talking for a moment. A hum leaves your throat; a bit too enthusiastically. Words are not reliable right now. 
Remus is clearly unconvinced, and Sirius casts a suspicious look your way. With a sigh of defeat, your hands grip the edge of the skirt and lift it slightly, just to show the dribbles of dried blood on your leg. Sirius’ breath hitches in his throat, and Remus looks at the scene with growing exasperation.
“What—Who did this to you?” Demanded Sirius as he moved to pull higher at your skirt. “No one, nothing, I mean. I just—” You start, but Sirius continues on.
“Don’t lie to me; you’re not this clumsy.” A laugh escapes you, but even that brings a twinge of pain. Remus shuffles through his leather satchel that holds his study books. 
He’s had to get a lot more creative regarding how he routines his life, now that he has to walk with an aid. Sirius was more than kind enough to gift him the costly satchel, much to Remus’ humbleness. 
He pulls out a roll of gauze, and you can’t help but grace him with a lukewarm smile. Always the caretaker he is, Remus Lupin. 
Sirius grabs the roll at breakneck speed and huffs drearily as he unravels your previous work. “You need to go to Poppy; I can’t do very well with this.”
Shaking your head in quiet disagreement, you watched as he wrapped fresh gauze around your leg. 
Remus leans over and brushes one of his forefingers against your cheek. With a soft pout, you cast a shy gaze at him from beneath your eyelashes. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you. 
Sirius always teases him for it but gets equally as giddy whenever Remus gives the same look to him. He acts indifferent to it all the time, but there is no denying that his eyes are any less mellow.
He finishes by tying the fabric into a knot at the innermost point of the thigh, warmth rising to your face at the closeness.
“Going to let us help you now?” Remus asks. It’s a rhetorical question but you still search for an answer. Regardless, you nod your head at the question.
They can help you, always.
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whoslai · 1 year ago
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seventy two hours - l. heeseung 📓🧑🏻‍🎓
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• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
↣ lee heeseung x fem!reader (both are 18)
↣ it’s the summer after high school; heeseung has been in love with his childhood friend, y/n. despite his efforts to make her see how he feels, she remains oblivious. with only three days left before they both go off to college, he must find a way to win her heart before it's too late. will he succeed, or will he have to let go of his love and move on?
↣ warnings: MDNI! making out, cunnilingus, fingering, jerking off, voyeurism, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love confessions, creampie, explicit sex, teasing, dirty talk, body marking, & more.
↣ genre: fluff, angst, smut, slice of life au
↣ wc: 4.1k
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
“lee heeseung,” you called, poking your head out of your window to look down at the sweaty boy who just so happened to live next door to you. he’d been bouncing a basketball in his driveway all night and it was driving you nuts!
to your incredulity, heeseung cocked his head to look up at you, smiling from ear to ear as he saw you. “y/n.” he sighed, holding his basketball to his chest. “have you been standing there the whole time?”
“no! unlike you, i’m trying to get some sleep. it’s 2 in the morning and you’ve been bouncing that ball since 7.” you whined, leaning against the window seal as you rubbed your sleepy eyes.
“oh? so you’re keeping track of how long i’ve been out here..?” he smugly remarked, dropping the ball into his yard as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “do i interest you that much, y/n?”
“heeseung.” you glared at him, “please let me sleep.”
he smiled, “you should come out here with me. i can show you how to shoot a 3 pointer.”
shaking your head, you closed your window. you huffed as you laid back in your bed, tiredly sighing as you heard him pick his ball up and bounce it against the pavement again. another day, another night spent trying to drown out heeseung.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
your next few days were spent dorm shopping with your mother; you’d been accepted into northwestern university to study journalism on a full scholarship. you truly were excited to start a new chapter of your life and explore yourself and the environment around you.
you’d be even happier if you didn’t have a little baby whining in your ear every day about the fact that you were moving across the country. of course, living next to heeseung meant you two were very close, almost too close. it got to the point of him being immensely comfortable with complaining about how it was “odd” if you to look forward to moving away from everyone you’ve ever known.
while yes, moving from a small town in virginia to a larger city in illinois would take some time getting used to, but that didn’t mean it would justify you being fearful. what was there to be afraid of? people move all the time, it wasn’t as though you’d be the first person to leave family for college. heeseung was just being dramatic, per usual.
“you really should just stay here, i don’t see why you can’t just go to school online.” heeseung shrugged, holding his knees to his chest as he sat on your bed, watching you take down the polaroids of you and friends from your walk to pack away for your dorm.
you smiled, shaking your head at him. “heeseung, you’re acting like i’m not going to come back on breaks. it’s not my fault you chose to stay here for college.”
“you’re right, i DID choose to stay here. wanna know why?” he asked.
you propped your hand on your hip and raised your eyebrow at him. “i know you want to tell me, so just go ahead and say it.”
“because…” he trailed off, anxiously biting his lip as he began again. “because everything i’ll ever need is here, virginia is my home; our home. why would you leave all this behind when everything you need is right here?”
you shrugged, “i don’t see what’s here in virginia that i can’t find in illinois. my parents plan to travel while i’m gone so there’s not much keeping me here.”
heeseung pouted. “ouch.”
“aw.” you laughed, “you know im going to miss you when i leave. how could i forget you and that stupid basketball you keep me awake with…”
heeseung smiled a bit, but you could tell there was some sadness behind it. “maybe we could play together?”
“hmmm…” you hummed. “we could, but i’d rather do something else. why don’t we do like a sleepover and binge on a bunch of movies? pull an all nighter or something.”
“a sleepover?” heeseung asked, sitting up and licking his lips. “as in…like me sleeping over here or…you sleeping at my house?”
“either. it doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled, grabbing some tape to close the box of pictures and placed it to the side. “but, you and i both know how strict my mom is about you being over. she would make you sleep on the couch downstairs.”
he slowly nodded, “true…”
“so we should probably just go to your place, yeah?” you asked him, glancing back at him. “i’m assuming you want me in the same bed as you, so we’re better off just doing it over at yours.”
he scoffed, “what?! who says i want you to sleep in my bed?”
“me.” you smiled, tossing the box off to the side. “like helloooo, look at me. who wouldn’t want me to sleep in their bed?”
heeseung married his eyes at you. “you are so…”
“i’m kidding~” you laughed, taking a seat at your desk. “i’d only get in your bed anyway.”
“wait really?” heeseung asked you, his ears perking up. “why only mine?”
“because you’re my bestie. now, go clean your room. i’ll be over in a few hours.” you told him, spinning around to organize the papers on your desk.
he laughed a bit before kicking the back of your seat as he made his way out.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
a few hours after heeseung had left, you’d found yourself drying your hair after taking a quick shower. you slipped on some shorts and a tee whilst grabbing your bag full of sleepover essentials.
making your way over to his house, you caught sight of his bedroom light being on and reflecting a shadow; a figure all too similar to his own. squinting your eyes up at him, you began to make sense of what you were seeing.
he stood near the window, head lowered while his arm appeared to repeatedly move in a swift motion….was he jerking off?
your heart skipped a beat when his head fell back and you looked down at the ground, contemplating whether or not you could simply walk in and face him after watching his shadow through his bedroom window.
biting your lip, you slowly turned to walk back to your house, his front door opened.
“y/n!!” his mothers voice rang in your ears from behind. you quickly turned back, being met by his mother waving for you to come. “i saw you standing out here! come on in, heeseung told me you were sleeping over…?”
you nodded, walking over to her. “um yeah! that’s um…that’s the plan.”
she closed the door behind you as you stepped in and slipped your shoes off. “well, that’s cute. i’m happy to see you two spend more and more time together, especially with you leaving in a few days.” she sighed, clasping her hands together. “i’ve always adored your friendship.”
“ahhh..” you smiled, nodding your head. “yeah, just a few more days.”
she frowned, “we’re all going to miss you very much!”
“i’ll come back and visit!” you exclaimed. she smiled, patting your shoulder as she signaled for the stairs.
“heeseung is up in his room. i’m not quite sure what he’s doing but he’s expecting you so just feel free to knock. i’ve got food in the kitchen and his father is down in the basement. if you guys need anything, just let me know. okay?”
“yes ma’am, and thank you!” you nodded at her, hurrying up the stairs.
as you stood in front of his closed bedroom door, you inhaled a deep breath, nervous to step in.
after standing there for a while, you brought your hand up to the door and knocked. “hey, heeseung. it’s me.”
you waited a while, hearing him reply, “kay, one sec…”
you rested your back against the wall opposite of his door, placing your hand over your chest as your heart rate began to increase. you wondered if you truly saw what you thought you saw outside or if you were just reading the situation wrong. you wondered if he was done shooting his hot load onto the nearest surface. you wondered if his cock was still twitching in his hand as he helped himself ride out his high by teasing his tip or even continuing to stroke his shaft.
“hey,” he said as he greeted you. his hair was damp and his shirt hung low off his collar bone, exposing some of his chest.
“took you long enough.” you scoffed, brushing past him as you attempted to play it cool, not wanting him to suspect anything.
he closed the door behind you and you sat on his bed, tossing your bag on the ground as you laid back and took your phone out.
“i didn’t prepare anything.” he said, “i’ve been laying in bed since i left your house.”
you looked at him as he sat beside you, awkwardly bringing his knees to his chest. “are you sure about that?”
“sure about what? laying in bed…?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
you nodded, “surely you haven’t been in bed for the past 5 hours.”
“i mean, for the most part.” he shrugged. “what does it matter?”
“it doesn’t…i was just being nosey.” you said, looking away from him and sighing. “it’s hot in here.”
“it’s like 70 degrees…” he trailed off.
you sat up quickly, facing him. “we should play a game, you down?”
“yeah.” he said, “go for it.”
you smiled, “truth or dare?”
he rolled his eyes and leaned back against his wall. “truth.”
“is it true that you’re going to be a big cry baby and have a tantrum on my last day here?” you teased, pushing him.
“bold of you to assume i’m even going to your send off.” he scoffed.
your smile fell, “wait, you aren’t coming?”
“if i go, i’ll miss you too much while you’re gone.” he pouted.
you smiled again, “awwww…stop flirting with me.”
he shrugged, “truth or dare?”
“dare, of course.” you said. “give me the best you’ve got.”
his eyes glanced to the side, then back at you. “mmm, i dare you to tell me one of your biggest fears.”
you flared your nose. “that’s the lamest dare. that’s all you could come up with? make it fun!”
“i don’t know…um…do a handstand or something.” he shrugged once again.
you titled your head to the side, shifting your hips on his bed. “are you okay?”
“uh..why?” he asked you. it was obvious that something was off with him, anybody who knew heeseung could tell that his body language was different than his normal; he was being awkward and he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. the fact that he wasn’t even making an effort to flirt with you in the grossest ways possible was throwing you off.
not to say you LIKED being flirted with but…come on, you kind of missed it.
“you’re being so weird.” you told him, glancing down at his shirt again.
he sighed. “i’m a bit tired, that’s all.”
you were quiet for a bit. was he tired from cumming a few minutes before? could his orgasm have been so intense that it made him groggy? reserved?
“truth or dare?” you asked him, your eyes fixated on your own. you wanted to know why he picked right before you came over to touch himself. why he’d do it right in front of his window, and most of all, why he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t just making a mess in his room before you came?
“truth.” he said.
“what are you tired from?” you asked him, intensely gazing into his eyes.
he smiled a little, “basketball practice this morning. just the usual.”
“that’s all?” you asked him once again, feeling a bit antsy from the smile that was plastered on his face.
“is there something else you’re thinking i did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
your tongue slid over your lower lip, feeling a wave of heat fall over your head. “i…”
his eyebrow raised. “you..?”
“i saw you.” you admitted, feeling your once assertive demeanor fade into a timid one.
he bit his lip, attempting to hold back his smile from growing wider. as his eyes trailed down, he leaned his head back against the wall. “saw me doing what?” you looked away from him, reaching back to grab your phone but his hand grabbed your arm. “no, say it. don’t start something if you can’t finish it…”
“dude, i didn’t see anything. i don’t know what i’m talking about.” you told him, pulling your arm away from him and crossing your legs, hoping that he didn’t the arousal that was seeping through your gray shorts.
he stood up, walking over to his window and opening the curtains. “saw me standing here earlier, right?”
you ignored him, staring down at your phone and scrolled through your instagram. before you realized it, heeseung was standing in front of you. he slid his index finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “saw me hand fucking myself, yeah?”
you slowly nodded, entranced at his intense eye contact.
“ah ah ah,” he tsked in a disapproving manner. “use your words, you’re a big girl.”
“yes..” you whispered, feeling small underneath his gaze.
“there you go,” he cooed. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“no. i just…why did you do that…right in front of your window? right before i came over?” you asked him.
“why do you think?” he asked, sighing. “isn’t it obvious?”
“no?” you replied, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
he dropped his hand to his side. “y/n, i like you. i’ve liked you since you moved next door to me.” he admitted, breaking eye contact to look down at your phone that still rested in your hand. “i couldn’t go a whole night stuck in my room with you with a straight face. it would’ve been harder than you think.”
“you like me?” you asked him, shocked.
“you’re so oblivious, i swear..” he scoffed, walking away from you and closed his curtains. “anyway, it’s not like it matters now anyway. you’re leaving in a few days.”
you scooted forwards a bit, “w-why would you just now tell me? i had no idea, heeseung. you couldn’t have told me like…freaking years ago?!”
“i told you because i wouldn’t have to face you when you rejected me. duh.” he weakly laughed, turning away from you and shuffling through some of his clothing.
you held onto the sheets underneath you, feeling completely at a loss at his words.
“i wouldn’t reject you, heeseung.” you told him.
“yeah you would, no need to lie about it.” he shrugged. “i’ve already coke to terms with it, it’s over with.”
tears began to pool in your eyes. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend, neighbor, childhood crush was admitting his feelings to you 72 hours before you moved across the country. “heeseung, i…”
“you don’t have to let me down lightly, y/n. it’s cool, don’t worry.” he sighed, sitting down back beside you as he rubbed his arms. “are you hungry? there’s some f-“
you cut him off with a kiss, holding his face against your own. he was stiff at first, shocked. but soon, he kissed you back and pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed over your curves, from your waist down to your ass.
but then, he pulled away and held your wrists. “y/n, why…why are you doing this?
tears fell from your eyes as you looked ahead at him, feeling your heart sadden at him; heeseung was so perfect. he had the cutest pair of large brown eyes along with a beautiful smile and a soothing voice. how could you have been so blind before? he was all you could ask for in a guy. he never made you feel uncomfortable, he was sweet, and he went above and beyond when doing things for you. how could you leave him in 3 days?
“because i like you too, heeseung.” you told him. “please don’t push me away. please.”
he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the same sadness you’d felt. he pressed his lips back to your own, holding your chest against his as he gently mended his lips with yours.
he let go of your wrists, using his hand to lay you flat on your back and lay atop of you. your hands caressed his cheeks, melting into the feeling of him. as the kiss deepened, you felt his hands moving up from your waist to your breasts, massaging your erect areola through your shirt. you moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of arousal wash over you. heeseung pulled away, looking into your eyes.
“do you want this?” he asked, his eyes searching for any doubt or hesitation in your expression.
you nodded, “so bad.”
with that, he leaned back down to kiss you again, this time with more passion and intensity. you felt his hands moving down to your shorts, slipping them off along with your panties. he broke the kiss to look at you, taking in your naked form beneath him.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. “so beautiful, so pretty.”
you whined his name, feeling his lips and tongue working their way down your body. heeseung spent a long time exploring every inch of your skin, eliciting moans and gasps from you with every touch.
he left wet kisses down your stomach down to your thighs, laying between your legs and propping them onto his shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered, “has anyone ever…done this to you before?”
you shook your head, “no, heeseung. no one has.”
he licked his lips, sucking on your dripping outer labia, sticking his tongue inside to flick his wet muscle against your achining clit.
“oh!” you squealed, arching your back at the surge of pleasure that rolled through your pelvis. “heeseung, oh my..”
he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, soon slipping in a finger to add to your pleasure. you gripped onto the sheets underneath you as you felt his rough fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls, feeling a knot build up in your stomach.
“oh shit, heeseung….” you cried, throwing your head back as he held onto your thighs, forcing you down harder against his mouth. “i think i’m gonna…i think i’m gonna..”
he lifted his head up, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he kissed your thighs. “cum for me, baby.”
you squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm ripped through your body, making your hips sputter. essense dripped out of your tender pussy as you moaned, closing your thighs over his hand.
he kept rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit, “heeseung, stop. please, please, i can’t. it hurts…please…”
he crawled back up to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair. “we can stop now, if you want.”
you held his face, caressing his cheek. “no, i..i want to go all the way.”
“have you had sex before?” he asked.
you shook your head, “i’ve only…done other stuff. never went all the way.”
he kissed you once before sitting up. “before we do this, i just want you to know that i’ve liked you for…a very, very long time. even on the days where we wouldn’t talk, all i thought about was you. i couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else throughout highschool when i would go home and see you through your window, looking as pretty as ever. my heart has always belonged to you, and i hope that even when you go off work college, you always remember that i’ll always hold tight onto the thought of you, keeping you close to my heart. forever and always.”
you felt tears welling up in your eyes at his words, knowing how much courage it must have taken for him to say them. you took his hand, squeezing it tightly.
“i will always remember, heeseung,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “and i will always hold onto the memories we’ve made together.”
he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips conveying all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. you felt his hands moving down to pull his pants down and he tightly held your hand within his, signaling that he was going to begin.
you felt the his cock poke against your pussy, making you gasp when you felt how hot and wet his tip was.
“squeeze my hand if it hurts and i’ll stop right away. sound good, pretty girl?” he asked, looking into your eyes.
“okay, i’m ready…” you told him, glancing down at his length prodding against your entrance. slowly but surely, you felt him slowly begin to push himself into your tight hole, stirring when you subconsciously clenched at the stretch. “y/n,” he huffed half laughed, “don’t squeeze like that. you’re gonna make me cum.”
you smiled a bit, “sorry..”
he kissed you again, glancing down and applying pressure to your tummy. “just relax, let me do the work.”
you complied, biting your lip as he bottomed out inside of you, not moving. you felt stuffed, one wrong move and he would impale your cervix. but something about the whole ordeal was turning you on so much, you could cum again without him even moving.
“feel okay?” he asked.
you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him down to kiss you. you rolled your hips against his own, itching for some type of stimulation.
he thrusted his hips into your own, starting at a slow pace as he reached down to being your leg over his back.
you moaned with pleasure, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over you as he brought you closer to another orgasm. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as you met his thrusts with your own.
heeseung picked up the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned into his mouth, your fingers scratching at his back as you held on for dear life.
heeseung pulled back, breaking the kiss to look down. "shit, your pussy is squeezing me," he moaned. “i’m gonna cum…”
you could feel his cock twitching inside you, signaling his impending release. the mere thought of him coming inside you sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.
you cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm. heeseung finally slowed down, his movements becoming more gentle as he rode out his own release.
with a final thrust, you felt his hot load shoot deep inside of your walls, panting the pink walls a tinge of white.
heeseung propped himself up, pulling his sensitive cock out of you and taking a deep breath.
he slipped his boxers back on and you claimed your breathing as you heard him walk away, coming back with a damp towel. you felt him wipe down your most sensitive areas and finish off with your face.
he tossed the towel to the side and helped you slip your panties back on along with your top. without a second thought, you held onto him, cuddling into the warmth of his exposed chest.
heeseung cuddled you back, laying beside you as he pulled his covers over the both of you.
“you did so well, y/n.” he whispered, planting a soft kiss against your nose. “was it okay?”
“more than okay…” you told him, closing your eyes and yawning. “thank you..for everything. for confessing to me and for making me cum twice in one night.”
he awkwardly laughed, shifting against you. “yeah…sure. are you sleepy?”
you order, “super sleepy.”
“sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”
and with that, you fell asleep. you weren’t sure what the future held for you and heeseungs relationship. all you knew was that you loved him for him. he was your friend, your first time, and now your first love. only time would tell for your relationship.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
authors note: here’s another lil fic! got bored and wanted to do a cute lil heeseung story, hope u liked it! 😊
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