#easy to hate chapter 15
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Chapter 15. Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet?
Lowkey I am fully aware that it seems like I don’t put a lot of what goes on behind the scenes with Albus and his family and I for real will get onto doing that soon (in fact there is some in this chapter!)
Anyways, this is also posted onto my Fanfiction.net account SomeKind0fMagic and my Wattpad somekindofmagic1 and my AO3 account s0m3kind0fmagic so you can check it out on there too!
I do not own Harry Potter
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Albus’s eyes drifted from the homework he was trying to finish before class as he heard the sound of owls coming into the Great Hall. he wasn’t expecting anything so he turned back to the Herbology work. He swore that he was going to do it by himself, without Annie’s help, but he had gotten distracted by Quidditch practice and had forgotten it at the bottom on his bag until Annie asked about it and now he was stuck scrambling to try and remember everything he could about Mandrake’s so that he would get the answers right and so that he wouldn’t have to explain why he failed such an easy assignment and explain that quidditch distracted him. He knew that Professor Longbottom wouldn’t accept that excuse.
Honestly, Albus was sure that no teacher really would since he chose to try out for the team and accepted his position.
He heard a strange noise come from Annie so he turned to look at her, brow raised as she tossed the letter in front of her. “Everything okay?” A small hint of laughter in his voice.
She sighed, “Apparently, Mum and dad are fighting over Liana again and apparently it’s freaking Clara out. Or at least according to Aidan as she’s staying with him.” She moved a piece of hair out of her face, “But, at least I guess this is, on the bright side, Cass is pregnant so I’m gonna be an Aunt.”
He noted the indifference, that almost sounded unjoyful, tone in her voice. He moved more to face her. “Is that not good, somehow?”
She shrugged, “I dunno, ask me again in ten years.”
He laughed, turning back to his parchments. “Alright I guess I will.”
And as he was grabbing a piece of bacon, looking at the question again to try to answer it when he heard a soft voice call out his name. “Albus?” He looked over to almost behind him and saw the blonde hair of his younger cousin.
He coughed to clear his throat, trying to clear any confusion or even shock from his voice. “Lucy? What’s up?”
She held out a few envelopes to him, “These were for you. Your parents' owl accidently sent them to James instead so he sent me to give them to you. Plus this other one from someone else was sent to James by accident too.”
“Oh,” He took them from her hands, almost hesitantly for some reason. As he moved to place them next to his work, he glanced at her. “Thanks.” He brushed a small bit of hair from his eyes. “Is that all?” She nodded and he tapped his thigh slightly. “Okay...I’m gonna get back to my work and food.”
She nodded again, “See you later Albus.”
He hummed in agreement as he turned back and she walked away. He didn’t even spare a look at the Gryffindor table, already knowing that at least James was staring him down. He finished eating the piece of bacon he had previously grabbed and looked back at his homework. But he didn’t even last ten seconds before he felt eyes on him. He slowly looked up to see Scorpius staring at him. He raised a brow at his friend, “Can I help you?”
“Are you gonna read those letters?”
“Am I not allowed to do my homework ethically? Without cheating? At this point with the amount of distractions or interruptions, I’m never gonna get it done in time!” He heard Annie snort and he pointedly turned to her. “Really? You’re really going to make fun of me at this time?”
“Here.” She laughed out, grabbing a few pieces of parchment similar to his. “Just copy them, Al. do the usual and change the wording. I’m honestly tired of watching you slowly lose it.”
He gave her a bland face, almost thinking about pushing her off of the bench. “I hate you.”
“Lies.” She smiled sweetly and pushed hair from her own face, “But Scorpius is right, are you gonna read them?”
He slid Annie's work over closer to him and put his quill down. “I guess. But I seriously don’t understand why you two want me to read them.”
As he grabbed one, Scorpius shrugged, “Chaos.”
He hummed and started to read the first letter:
Albus,
How has your second year been going outside of making the team? Honestly, getting a letter that says “made the team, you can send my broom.” wasn’t exactly what I was asking for when I told you to write more.
But besides that, we’re all happy for you and will try to make the first game. Neville said that it was against Gryffindor so it’ll be most of the family as Rose also made the Gryffindor team as a Chaser. Ron made a joke that now Lily and Hugo just need to make the team when they get to Hogwarts and then basically everyone in the family was on the team.
Astoria also sent me a letter telling me that Scorpius made the team, let him know I say congratulations and that we’ll see you at the game.
Love,
Mum
“Mum knows you also made the team, Scor, she says congrats.”
He saw the small smile on his face, “Tell her I say thanks, whenever you write to her again.”
“Actually,” He started as he began to fold up the paper and grabbed the next, “She said that she’ll try to make it to the game against Gryffindor on the 13th. So if she makes it, you could just tell her then.”
“Ah yes, because you won’t write to her before then.”
“I won’t.” He muttered as he started to read the next one that was really more of a note.
Hey Albus, I was wondering if you could help me with some Transfiguration? I would ask in person but I only ever see you in the Great Hall during meal times and then you’re with your friends and I don’t wanna bother you. I understand if you can’t though! Vic just said to go to you if I needed help, and you said to as well over summer.
Thanks! Louis
Albus looked over to the Ravenclaw table to where his younger cousin was talking to a guy that he was pretty sure was a first year too. He turned back to Annie and Scor, “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go talk to my cousin Louis.”
“That was the one who ended up sitting with us on the train, right?”
He nodded, “Yeah, he needs help with some stuff so he wrote to me about it so I was just...going to talk to him.”
“Help with what?” He started to walk away as Annie questioned him, “Albus, you can’t even--”
He walked off shaking his head, truly pretending he didn’t hear her questioning him over this. Even before he made it all the way over to the Ravenclaw table, he saw the people staring at him and did the best that he could to try and ignore it. He was used to it, oddly enough now. but...it couldn’t help feel weird as he got closer. It was stranger than what he was used to. It didn’t feel like the stares he had gotten since becoming a Slytherin nor did it feel like the ones for him being a Potter. It was like...a mix of the two he guessed.
He got up to his cousin and cleared his voice, saying his cousin's name gentler than he usually would. “Louis?”
Louis looked back and smiled at Albus, “Albus! Did you get my note?”
He nodded, “Yeah, I did. And I’m willing to help you out with whatever.”
“Thank you! When could you start?”
“Well, I have practice every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 4 to 6, then Anne makes me study every Tuesday. So how’s Thursdays at about 5 and then until Dinner?”
“That works out great! Thank you so much Al!”
He smiled at his cousin, “Course Louis, we’re family, it’s what I’m supposed to do.” He ignored the small sting he felt from himself when he said that aloud.
Louis smiled, “Of course! So I’ll see you Thursday?”
Albus nodded, “See you Thursday.” And as he turned to walk away, he quickly turned back to Louis, “And Louis?” He looked at him, “Don’t be scared to come over to the Slytherin table. We don’t bite. Most of us at least.” The last bit was a slight joke and an afterthought. However, the more he thought about it, he actually couldn’t guarantee that it was a joke. He was sure that a few people would bite.
His cousin laughed, “Okay, got it!”
This time, Albus turned and walked back to his table and knew full well that even more people were staring at him as he did so. People that were in different houses were even watching him. His family at the Gryffindor table were the most, especially James and Rose. he saw them from the corner of his eye although he tried to pretend that he didn’t. But he just ignored them and walked back to his friends.
He even saw Annie and Scorpius’ eyes on him and as he sat back down next to Annie, Scorpius leaned in from across. “Dude, like everyone was staring at you while you talked to your cousin. I think that James was trying to make you explode or something with how hard and long he was staring at you!”
He laughed at his friend before playfully rolling his eyes, “Really? I didn’t even notice.”
“Seriously?!”
“He was being sarcastic, Scor.”
“Oh.”
Albus nodded before taking the papers that Annie had previously given him and quickly copying down it all before breakfast ended and he was considered to be done for.
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Thursday had come quicker than Albus had originally thought and now he was sitting in the library, waiting for his cousin to show. Fear began to sneak in as he looked around, in no sight was the blonde hair of his cousin. Slowly, he began to wonder if perhaps it was just some prank. That Louis was like the others. Although, he had to doubt it. Neither of his sisters were that way and it never appeared that Louis’ parents had any care about it.
If he was really going to be completely honest, Albus was beginning to wonder why he was even doing this. He was only a year older than Louis and Annie was right. He tended to struggle to get his own work done, how could he help his cousin? But it wasn’t like it was entirely that Albus didn’t understand what he was being taught. He did, most of the time. It was just hard for him to get the work done outside of class. He didn’t see the point of studying and doing the homework. He did well on quizzes and always passed without problems when it came to practical exams. He just...didn’t want to have to apply all of the time. He just didn’t see the point.
He looked over to his side as he heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Finally, he saw the blonde hair of his cousin, who also had an apologetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry Albus! I was talking with Liana and I didn’t even realize what time it was.”
Albus smiled at him, “That’s fine, we’ll just have a little less time than originally planned.”
He smiled in a sort of grateful way, “That’s fine.”
Albus cleared his throat for a moment, “How is Liana by the way?”
“She’s good. She doesn’t really talk much about her family, but I think everyone in the house knows that she’s upset over what happened.” Albus nodded as Louis grabbed a book from his bag before sighing. “Can you just promise not to talk about this to anyone? Or at least anyone who would tell someone in our family. I don’t want someone like Rose or Molly finding out and then getting mad because I didn’t go to them.”
Albus offered a small smile and nod. He knew better than to ask, despite him wanting to more than anything. Ask why he hadn’t gone to Rose or Molly first. They were smarter, it was known. They would be able to get him up to speed in no time. But all Albus could do after was rub his nose, feeling how cold it was starting to get in the castle before pointing to the book Louis had placed in front of them.
“So, what in Transfiguration do you need help with?”
He heard Louis give out an awkwardly uncomfortable laugh and saw him rubbing his neck. “Um...All of it?”
Albus laughed, trying to make him feel better. “That’s fine. Transfiguration isn’t all that easy.” Especially if one is just going based on the book. “Well, we might as well start and try to see what we can get you to understand.” He opened up the book, “So--”
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The two cousins hadn’t even realized that dinner was starting until a painting by them had mumbled something about how studious the two were as they were there and dinner was starting. And as soon as they had heard that, Louis had quickly slammed his book shut, shoving it into his bag as Albus frantically grabbed his. Before they exited the library, they agreed to meet again the next week, just that time on time (although Albus was sure one of them would be late, punctuality wasn’t something their family was known for).
So now Albus was running down the stairs to the Slytherin common room in order to toss his bag into his room with the other second years, even though he’d have to come back for it before Astronomy. He knew someone was following him from behind but he chose to ignore it, especially as he had turned his head over his shoulder and saw James and Rose. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as he neared the common room, muttering the password and running in. He didn’t want to know what his brother and cousin wanted. And he especially didn’t want to know why they had basically followed him from the library to the dungeons.
He ran up the stairs and opened the door to his dorm before tossing his bag onto the bed and turning around and running down the stairs again and out of the common room, back to the dungeons. He hadn’t even made it to the stairs to go back up to the Entrance Hall and head to the Great Hall for dinner when James and Rose called out to him. He stopped and closed his eyes again, letting out a breath, before turning to look at them.
“What do you want?”
He saw James cross his arms, some sort of accusatorial look on his face. “What are you doing with Louis?”
“Nothing? We were just talking.” Albus sighed and crossed his own arms, “Y’know, like family is supposed to.”
“Albus, don’t--”
“Rose,” He looked at his cousin, “Please don’t sit there and try to act all high and mighty, please, I beg of you.”
“I wasn’t--”
“You were.” He blankly said, “That’s what you do. And I also don’t know why it matters that I’m spending more time with Louis. He’s my cousin, we’re allowed to talk and do things together.”
“Well what were you doing in the library, then?”
“Not bringing him to ‘my side’ if that’s what you think. And honestly, what is my cause? Just existing and loving my house because my friends and their families are, for the most part, extremely nice?”
“We don’t care if someone--”
He scoffed and interrupted Rose, “You don’t? Then why did you practically cast me out when I tried to tell you the truth? Not all Slytherins are bad, most aren’t. Gryffindor has just as many bad members, as does Ravenclaw, and I’m sure Hufflepuff. Slytherin isn’t the only house where people turned evil or did evil things.”
“We didn’t care, Albus, you were the one who did.”
“I didn’t. You did. But I guess you can’t see past your own ego and realize how you treat everyone outside of Gryffindor. Outside of those who worship the ground you walk on.”
James narrowed his eyes, “I never acted that way. You changed immediately and started acting like all of those people do. Acting like you’re--”
He stopped him, “No James. That’s you. You act like you’re the best. You act like no one is better than you because of who your--our dad is. Who our mum is. Who our family is. I could probably name the people who act like that in Slytherin since there’s so few. And what am I acting like? Am I acting like the horrifying villain in your story? In the story of your life where you’re the savior? Or am I just pointing out that not everyone worships you because you’re Harry Potter’s kid!”
“I have a reason to brag about my dad! He is Harry fucking Potter! He saved the Wizarding World! Stopped it from Voldemort! Who, might I add, was a Slytherin! As were all of his other followers! Including your precious Malfoy’s father! But then my father went on to marry Ginny Weasley from the Holyhead Harpies and have two kids--!”
Albus watched James’ lips move but he didn’t hear the words come out. He saw Rose look away, almost ashamed at what she was hearing. He looked at her, almost desperately. Almost begging her to tell him to stop. To prove to Albus that this was just some stupid thing that she had seen through. That she had just wanted James’ approval but he saw that she said nothing. She just looked away, avoiding his eyes. Her brown away avoiding his glassed over green ones. Albus looked back at James, almost defeatedly. And he saw the look on James’ face. Smug. As if he had just won something.
“You know...Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor and he was the reason our grandparents are dead and our father had to be the saviour of the wizarding world at 17 after going through fight after fight since he turned 11. Teddy’s grandmother was a Slytherin. And you seem to forget that Narcissa Malfoy, the woman who lied to Voldemort that our dad was dead, was a Slytherin. I don’t think it’s fair that you can say that about my house when you have one of the biggest traitors to our family.” He looked at Rose, “I hope Hugo and Lily see past you.”
He rubbed his nose and turned to walk back up the stairs, “Now if you two don’t mind, I’m heading up to the Great Hall to eat.”
He quickly ran up the stairs and held back the tears that continued to threaten to fall. He was silent as he walked over to his two friends and sat next to them. He saw the look the two of them shared, as well as saw Rohyn whisper into Scorpius’ ear but Albus didn’t have the will to say anything. He felt Annie gently touch his shoulder and he looked at her, but regretting it as he saw James walk in. Rose was nowhere in sight and it wasn’t like he cared. She made her choice and now they both had to live with that.
He fully looked at Annie before breathing out, “Liana’s doing good.”
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Albus stayed in the back of the Astronomy tower as Professor Sinistra spoke about something in the sky. Honestly, Albus wasn’t sure what she was saying. His book was open, flipping pages as instructed but the words just went into one ear and out the other. He looked everywhere but at the pages even. His eyes eventually fell on Rose. She was also in the back, but as far away from him as she could get. He saw her eyes. He could see the red and puffiness in them from where he was. Even as she was slightly covered in shadows.
He hated her. He hated that she was crying. What was she crying for? She had no reason to cry. No reason to be upset. She was the one who did the harm. She didn’t get harmed. She said nothing. She deserved what he said to her. He hoped it happened. That Hugo and Lily would see how she was. See that she wouldn’t stick up for them if it would hurt her or her reputation or looks. If it would make her be on the bad side of anyone in her house.
He didn’t care what type of person it made him. He hoped that one day she would know how he felt.
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Albus had ran out of the Astronomy tower the second Professor Sinistra had called the end of class. He heard Annie and Scorpius call after him but he didn’t listen. He just ran out as fast as he could in order to make it back to the common room without anyone talking to him. He just...he couldn’t deal with it. Not here, not now. He really wasn’t even sure he ever wanted to talk about it, but he was sure he would have to. He was sure that someone would get it out of him, one of these days. But he didn’t want to have to think about that. No now.
Truthfully, Albus didn’t understand any of it. Understand why he felt this way. He and James had never been close, both had (separately) been closer to Lily than each other. But he wasn’t sure that he had ever thought that it would be this way. Where Albus felt like he couldn’t...well he wasn’t even sure what he felt.
He pushed the door to his dorm room, no one else was in there. He tossed his book bag to the side and he couldn’t even bring himself to remove his glasses or change into his pajamas before he fell face forward onto his bed. He just fell forward and held his pillow tightly before somehow falling asleep before everyone else made it back.
#easy to hate#easy to hate chapter 15#am i more than you bargained for yet#harry potter oc#harry potter next gen fanfiction#harry potter next gen oc#anneliese erika green#anneliese green#harry potter next gen
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I think if I can finish writing chapter 6 of my reddie slowburn fic today, I can start posting
#I finally figured out a title I don’t hate and the summary will be easy#and I unfortunately know myself and I know that if this thing doesn’t exist in the world it won’t be finished#this thing will probably end up at least 15 chapters and I’m gonna try post every week or every other week#probably every week at first#but we’ll see#reddie#eddie kaspbrak#richie tozier#it movie#it chapter 2#it stephen king
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WHEN YOU SMILE — mark smau
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after barely passing your recent exam you're now desperately looking for someone to tutor you so your friends wouldn't worry about you and your grades.
or in which you find yourself making a deal with mark lee, a top students who seeks for your help. mutual benefit right?
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fake boyfriend!mark x fem!reader
GENRE — fluff, angst, slowburn, comedy, humor, fake dating, non-idol au, college au
WARNINGS — a little bit of cursing, reader is kind of mean to mark, mark is REALLY nice, reader gets teased a lot, features other idols : xiaojun (nct); jaemin (nct); giselle (aespa); natty (kiof); haechan (nct); chenle (nct); ningning (aespa); minji (nwjns)
STATUS — ongoing
PLAYLIST — wildflower – billie eilish [02:14] ; sure thing – miguel [02:16] ; iris – the goo goo dolls [00:11] ; nobody gets me – sza [00:38] ; 200 – mark [01:04] ; godspeed – frank ocean [00:33] ; infrunami – steve lacy [00:32] ; intro (end of the world) – ariana grande [01:08] ; margaret – lana del rey [03:57] ; we can't be friends – ariana grande [02:27]
TAGLIST — open
A/N — soo excited for this smau especially because i've been wanting to post a mark smau for soo long!!
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profile 1 || profile 2
1 ) how can you fail the easiest class
2 ) does this mean we're friends
3 ) just you wait
4 ) haechan's birthday party
5 ) officially fake dating
6 ) she's my friend
7 ) y/n is missing??
8 ) crazy fangirls
9 ) showing off while you're sleeping is crazy
10 ) does she hate me?
11 ) ILL FIGHT FOR YOU
12 ) i need advice
13 ) i guess i can forgive you..
14 ) mellowed out like crazy
15 ) YOU HAVE A SON???
16 ) bro tweets like a poet
17 ) why do i have to study even if i passed
18 ) this is a set up i just know it
19 ) 7 minutes in heaven
20 ) i bet his name starts with m and end with ark
21 ) i'd do anything to see her smile again
22 ) my angel
23 ) mark is down bad
24 ) it's not that important huh?
25 ) are you at a photoshoot
26 ) mark you're just jealous admit it
27 ) you're lowkey speaking facts..
28 ) this is what i call mandela effect
29 ) is that your secret man cave
30 ) my pretty angel
31 ) so was i ugly yesterday?
32 ) you're so easy to gaslight xiaojun..
33 ) what did i tell you?
34 ) since we're already here..
35 ) and that kids is how we kissed.
36 ) matching shirts with my new best friend
37 ) you've always been cute
38 ) crazy how you broke haechans record
39 ) so i'm that important to you?
40 ) you're a very socially awkward guy
41 ) just go and check twitter
42 ) i'm gonna rip my hair out
43 ) ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY??
44 ) WELL YOU THINK WRONG ❌
45 ) when you smile
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bonus chapters :
who does he think he is?
dude yk i didnt mean it like that..
© svnnw
#nct#nct dream#nct 127#mark lee#nct mark#lee mark#smau#nct smau#nct dream smau#nct 127 smau#mark smau#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct 127 imagines#mark imagines#nct texts#nct dream texts#nct 127 texts#mark texts#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct 127 fluff#mark fluff#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#mark scenarios#nct x reader#mark x reader
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under your skin . mlist
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enemy!niki x fem!reader
warnings: angst, enemies to lovers, explicit content (mdni), emotional tension, hurt/comfort, swearing
total w.c.: unknown rn
synopsis: niki is everything you can’t stand—arrogant, obnoxious, and always right in your face. from the first day you met, he’s been your number one enemy. but as much as you hate him, there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes it hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry. after a series of frustrating interactions, a single moment changes everything. will you finally stop fighting what’s between you, or will your past as enemies keep you apart forever?
release: 14th feb 2025 (subject to change)
chapter 1: the first impression (feb 14) niki walks into your life like he owns the place. he’s cocky, self-assured, and somehow always knows how to push your buttons. what starts as harmless teasing soon escalates into a rivalry that neither of you can escape. but there’s a thin line between hate and something else you’re trying hard not to acknowledge.
chapter 2: keep your distance (feb 15) the tension between you and niki continues to grow as your encounters become more frequent. every argument feels like a new war, each one leaving you more frustrated and confused. but as much as you try to fight it, every moment spent near him tugs at something inside you that you’re not prepared to confront. you’re not supposed to be attracted to him, and yet, his presence alone makes your heart race. why does he have this effect on you? and why can’t he just stay out of your life?
chapter 3: kisses (feb 16) after an especially heated argument, emotions run high. before you know it, the insults turn into a kiss that neither of you were expecting. it’s raw and intense, and for a moment, all the anger fades into something deeper. but when it’s over, you both pull away, unsure what this means for the two of you.
chapter 4: what are we doing? (feb 17) things get complicated as you try to navigate this new dynamic. are you friends? enemies? something more? niki is all mixed signals, and you can't figure out if you’re supposed to love him or hate him. every step forward feels like two steps back, and your feelings grow more confusing by the day... but niki makes his decision by kissing... someone who wasnt you.
chapter 5: we can't stay away (feb 18) after pulling back for a while, you and niki can’t seem to stay apart. the tension is too much, and the desire to be close to him is overwhelming. this time, it’s not a fight—it's passion. but just as things start to make sense, old wounds and insecurities threaten to tear you apart again.
chapter 6: what we’ve become (feb 19) the walls come down, and you and niki finally admit what’s been there all along. you're no longer enemies, but building something new together isn't easy. can love really grow from hate, or was it always there beneath the surface? it's time to find out, once and for all.
EXTRA CHAPTER (feb 19)
taglist: open
a/n: hi!! this is going to be my first ff on here so i hope it'll please everyone... the wc and chapters may change <33
#enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen fluff#enhypen riki#ni-ki#enhypen niki#riki enhypen#niki enhypen#enhypen ni-ki#ni-ki enhypen#niki x reader#riki x reader#riki smut#niki fluff#riki fluff#niki scenarios#riki scenarios#niki imagine#riki imagine#fanfic#imagine#nishimura riki#enhypen nishimura riki#nishimura riki smut#nishimura riki fluff
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ESCAPISM PART 3
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SYNOPSIS -> You left to find yourself—now they’re the ones chasing. Changed and desperate, Heeseung and Ni-ki want you back, but this time, you make the rules.
PAIRING -> non!idol!ni-ki x fem!reader x non!idol!heeseung
GENRE -> oneshot, smut, romance, drama, love triangle, mature
WARNING -> SMUT (p in v), threesome, unprotected sex, spit, dom!reader, sub!ni-ki, sub!heeseung, powerplay, oral (f), oral (m)… MDNI!!
STARTED -> 2/15/2025
STATUS -> completed
WC -> 11.5k
Note: Not only is this the longest chapter/ story i have ever written but it’s also the very first full smut I’ve ever written, let me know what you think… :)
click here for part 1 & part 2
Masterlist
Change isn’t easy.
Heeseung learns this the hard way, sitting in the sterile office of his therapist, hands clenched into fists on his lap. The clock on the wall ticks endlessly, the air heavy with words he doesn’t know how to say.
“How have you been sleeping?” Dr. Jeon asks, voice gentle, as if she already knows the answer.
Heeseung huffs a humorless laugh, leaning back into the leather couch. “Does it count as sleeping if you wake up every hour?”
Dr. Jeon doesn’t react, simply jotting something down in her notebook. Heeseung wonders what she writes about him. Insomniac. Self-sabotaging. Emotionally stunted.
He already knows all that.
He runs a hand down his face, sighing. “It’s been… quiet,” he admits.
She hums. “Quiet, or lonely?”
His throat tightens.
Lonely. So lonely.
Heeseung doesn’t say it, but she sees through him anyway. He hates how easy he is to read here, in this room, under her knowing gaze. It’s nothing like before, when he could brush things off, pretend he wasn’t falling apart.
Before, there was Y/N.
Before, he had her warmth beside him at night. The sound of her voice filling his apartment, the way she’d roll her eyes at his bad jokes but still laugh anyway.
Before, he was so sure she’d never leave.
And now?
Now, he sits alone in his too-big bed, staring at his ceiling, wondering if she’s sleeping better than him. If she ever thinks about him at all. If she knows how hard he’s trying to be better.
Dr. Jeon‘s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Tell me about her.”
Heeseung swallows.
Where does he even begin?
“She was…” He hesitates, staring at the floor. “She was everything.”
The words taste like regret.
Dr. Jeon waits, watching him closely. Heeseung shifts under her gaze, fingers twitching. “I don’t think I realized how much she meant to me until she was gone.”
Dr. Jeon tilts her head. “And now?”
Now, she’s still everything.
Now, he’s trying to fix himself, but it might be too late.
Now, he can’t stop picturing the way she looked at him the last time they spoke—like he was a stranger.
“I just…” His voice cracks. He rubs at his face. “I don’t want to be the man I was before.”
It’s the closest he’ll ever get to saying I want to be the man she deserves.
Dr. Jeon offers a small nod. “That’s a good place to start.”
But even as Heeseung leaves the session, stepping into the cold evening air, he knows the truth.
But what does it matter if Y/N isn’t here to see it?
No amount of therapy will bring Y/N back if she doesn’t want him anymore.
She’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the faint memory of her laugh, in the spaces between his fingers where hers used to fit, in the ache in his chest whenever he reaches for his phone and stops himself from dialing her number.
He wants to tell her.
Wants to prove he’s changed.
Wants to beg for another chance.
But Y/N doesn’t owe him anything.
So he suffers in silence.
---
Ni-ki hates the silence.
Before, his nights were loud—filled with music, laughter, the sound of strangers whispering his name. Distractions. Easy. Thoughtless.
Now?
Now, the quiet is suffocating.
He stares at his phone, scrolling past old messages, old habits, old mistakes. His contact list is filled with names of people he barely remembers—numbers he could dial if he wanted company, if he wanted a warm body beside him.
But he doesn’t. Not anymore.
The hookups stopped after Y/N.
No more hookups, no more meaningless distractions. Just empty nights and a realization that nothing feels right anymore.
Not because she asked him to, not because there was ever a promise between them. But because after her, everything else felt pointless.
At first, he told himself he was fine. That Y/N was just another girl, that what they had was just fun. But then he’d see her in his mind—really see her—laughing, teasing, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body pressed against his.
And suddenly, it wasn’t fun anymore.
She wasn’t just another girl.
And now, it’s too late.
She wasn’t like the others.
She was a slow burn, a fire that built up over time, turning his skin feverish and his mind reckless. She made him feel.
And now, she’s gone.
Ni-ki grips his phone tighter, fighting the urge to text her. He won’t. He can’t. She made her choice, and he has to live with it.
Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks. Nowhere in particular, just away. From his empty apartment, from the ache in his chest, from the memories he can’t erase.
Maybe if he keeps walking, he’ll stop feeling like a ghost of himself.
Maybe one day, the silence won’t hurt so much.
---
The next few weeks of your life felt like a quiet but powerful rebirth. You woke up every morning with the sunrise, the soft glow of sunlight seeping through the curtains of your newly decorated apartment. It was small, yet cozy, and every item in it was carefully chosen, each piece a reminder of your growth, your independence. Your fingers ran over the warm mug of coffee in your hands, and you smiled softly to yourself as you sipped it, watching the world outside your window.
Your routine had become second nature to you now. You went to the gym every morning, pushing herself harder than ever, feeling the strength of your own body grow with every rep. Your mind, too, was growing. You had learned to embrace the quiet, the solitude, the feeling of your own company without the noise of your past relationships clouding your thoughts. You felt good. And, for the first time in a long time, you felt truly free.
As much as you had learned to embrace your independence, there was still a small part of you that couldn’t quite shake the ache left by Heeseung and Ni-ki. You had moved on, sure, but you couldn’t deny the fact that they were still in the back of your mind, lingering in the corners of your thoughts like an unfinished chapter. But you refused to let that stop you. You were thriving, you she knew that even though they might always be a part of you, they would never define you again.
Today, as you walked through the door of your favorite café, you felt the warmth of familiarity wrap around you like a comfort blanket. You greeted the barista with a smile before sitting at your usual spot by the window. The place was bustling with the hum of quiet chatter, the clinking of coffee cups, and the soft background music. You pulled out your laptop, opening it to get some work done. It was the kind of life you had always wanted – peaceful, centered, and full of small moments that felt meaningful.
You didn’t let yourself linger too long on thoughts of the past. Your focus was on the present. You had a new project in the works, one you were excited about, something that would push your creative boundaries. The glow of productivity filled you, and you quickly immersed yourself in the work. Time flew by without noticing, and soon the afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky.
As the evening approached, you received a text from one of your friends. They had been planning a party at a trendy downtown club for the past few days, and it was finally happening tonight.
“Tonight’s the night, Y/N! Come out and celebrate with us!” the message read. “You need a night out!”
You hesitated for a moment. You hadn’t been out in a while, not like this. But something about the invitation felt right. You deserved a night of fun, of letting loose. The truth was, you was excited. It had been too long since you had felt the heat of a crowded dance floor, the rush of music pulsing through your veins. The last few months had been full of healing and self-reflection, but now, it was time to feel something different—something wild.
So you quickly texted back, “I’m in.”
---
Standing in front of your closet, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you examined the options. The room around was filled with the quiet hum of anticipation. It had been a while since you’d put this much thought into what to wear, but tonight felt different. Tonight wasn’t just another party—it was a step forward, a declaration of how far you’d come.
Your fingers traced over the fabric of a tight black dress, one that accentuated every curve, its simple elegance radiating confidence. Almost feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on you already—on your body, on your energy. You smirked at the reflection. The girl staring back at you wasn’t the same as the one from months ago. This version of yourself was fierce. Self-assured. Powerful. And tonight, she was going to own the room.
The sound of a phone vibrating on the nightstand interrupted your thoughts. After picking it up, another friend’s name lighting up the screen.
“Y/N! You coming to the party tonight or what?” the message read.
You smiled, tapping your fingers across the screen replying, “Yeah, I’m in.”
Still not entirely sure what awaited you at the party. But one thing was for sure—this time, you were in control.
Turning back to finish getting ready, you thought of the two people who would also be at the party, though you had no idea how close they were to each other now. But there was something about tonight, something about being free from the past, that made you curious.
But tonight wasn’t about them, not yet. Tonight was about you reclaiming your own space, enjoying yourself without apologies.
After applying the final touches of makeup, a bold lipstick that matched your mood, and smirking at your reflection one last time, you left your apartment.
Tonight would be yours.
---
The music blasted through the speakers as you stepped into the club, your heels clicking against the marble floor with every confident stride you took. The strobe lights flickered overhead, casting brief, electric shadows that seemed to make the entire room pause for a split second. Your presence was undeniable. Every eye in the club was drawn to you as though the very air shifted when you entered.
You were wearing a tight, black dress that clung to your body in all the right ways. It hugged your waist and flared slightly at the hips, the fabric smooth against your skin, barely concealing the curves of your body. The neckline of the dress dipped low, teasing without revealing too much, just enough to catch the eye. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, drawing attention to your toned figure—your legs, long and smooth, the curve of your hips, the softness of your waist, the way your body seemed to sway with an effortless sensuality as you walked.
Your hair cascaded down in soft waves, the deep, rich color contrasting against your glowing skin. Your eyes, framed with a subtle but striking makeup, scanned the room with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect they had. Your lips, painted a bold shade of red, were just daring enough to leave others wondering if they were meant to be kissed.
You weren’t just walking into the club; you were owning it. You moved through the crowd like you were meant to be the center of attention, every man and woman turning their heads as you passed. The whispers and glances followed you, some too obvious to ignore, others hidden behind the shadows of the dance floor.
At the bar, Heeseung and Ni-ki stood side by side, both men caught in the same unexpected moment. They had no idea how to react. It had been months since they’d last seen you, and the sight of you now—this stunning version of yourself, so much more powerful and confident than before—stopped them in their tracks.
Heeseung’s gaze flickered first, his lips parting slightly as his breath caught. He knew he shouldn’t be staring—shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts that were now running wild in his mind. But he couldn’t help it. The woman in front of him wasn’t the girl who had once been caught up in the whirlwind of their toxic relationship. This version of you was something else entirely. You weren’t just beautiful—you were untouchable, exuding a kind of raw, magnetic energy that made his chest tighten. His fingers itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms, but he held himself back. Out of respect. He knew better than to make a move now.
Ni-ki, standing just a few feet away, was in a similar state of disbelief. His thoughts ran wild as he watched you walk across the club, your body moving in a way that left his mouth dry. Damn. The memory of your one-night-stand was still fresh in his mind, but seeing you now, so confident, so poised, made his chest tighten in a different way. You were everything. His eyes followed every inch of you as you made your way to the dance floor, the sway of your hips sending jolts of desire through his body. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way—especially with Heeseung so close—but he couldn’t stop himself.
The men exchanged a glance, the unspoken tension between them thick enough to cut through the air. Neither of them said anything, but both knew—tonight wasn’t going to be easy.
You, for your part, weren’t oblivious to the heat of their gazes. You felt the weight of their attention, but it only added to your sense of power. You were the one in control now, and it felt damn good.
You turned your head slightly, your eyes locking with Heeseung’s for just a moment, then flicking to Ni-ki. The subtle shift in your gaze made both men stiffen, a pang of recognition hitting them hard in their chests. Neither one moved closer, though; they both understood the unspoken rule of the night—they would respect your space. But that didn’t stop the fire in their veins, the growing hunger that neither could quench.
You continued your stride, your hips swaying hypnotically, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you made your way deeper into the club. The scene was set—you were here, in control, and they were just two players in the game.
---
You were lost in the music, your body swaying to the beat, when a man approached you. His presence was immediate, confident, and his smile was charming. His eyes scanned you from head to toe with a look that could only be described as appreciative, as if he had found exactly what he was looking for.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “I’ve been watching you all night, and I have to say, you’ve got some serious energy. How about we dance?”
You paused for a moment, taking in his appearance—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a well-tailored shirt that hugged his frame. He looked good, no doubt. For a brief second, you considered the offer, but the beat of the music pulled you back into the moment. Why not? you thought. You could have some fun.
Without hesitation, you flashed him a smile. “Sure,” you said, your tone playful.
He grinned, stepping closer, guiding you onto the dance floor as the music pulsed through the club. The man’s hands settled on your waist, and you could feel the heat from his body as you moved together. His rhythm was decent, but nothing you hadn’t seen before. You danced with confidence, your body moving freely, but there was a part of you that remained detached.
You glanced back at Heeseung and Ni-ki, catching both of their gazes once more. The jealousy in their eyes was unmistakable, but it was different now. There was no possessiveness, no anger—only a quiet understanding, a reluctance to claim what wasn’t theirs to hold. They weren’t rushing over to make their move. They weren’t jumping to dictate what you could or couldn’t do.
That was new. The realization hit you like a slow wave. Both of them had changed. Not just in the way they looked at you, but in the way they seemed to respect your space. It was as if, for the first time, they understood that you weren’t someone to be fought over, but someone to be valued. Someone to be given the freedom to make your own decisions. And even though you felt their presence, you could breathe easier knowing they weren’t going to push you.
You swallowed, a small, appreciative smile crossing your lips. You didn’t need anyone’s validation. You were the one in control now, but the shift in the men—the way they had grown—didn’t go unnoticed. It made you think. Maybe there was hope for them, but only if you were ready to make the call. Only if they kept proving that they weren’t the same boys who had hurt you before.
As the minutes passed, the attraction you had briefly felt started to fade. His touch, while not unwelcome, didn’t stir anything deep within you. The music was still loud, and you could feel the energy around you, but all you could focus on was how much you felt the weight of Heeseung and Ni-ki’s gazes from across the room.
You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with Ni-ki first. His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady, but something in his eyes flickered—a brief hint of something you couldn’t quite place. Then your eyes found Heeseung. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched, watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. His eyes weren’t angry, though. They were… questioning.
The weight of their attention pulled at you, but the man’s hand on your waist brought you back to reality. You looked at him, realizing you weren’t interested—not in the way he wanted.
The dance was nice, but it was hollow. Your heart wasn’t in it.
After a few more moments of forced movement, you finally pulled back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Hey, I’m going to take a break,” you said, your voice casual, though your insides churned. “Thanks for the dance, though.”
The man raised an eyebrow, surprised, but offered a smooth nod. “Of course,” he said with a grin. “Enjoy yourself.”
You gave him a polite nod and walked away, stepping off the dance floor with a sense of relief. You didn’t look back at him, but the moment you turned your gaze back to where Heeseung and Ni-ki were standing, you caught them watching you. Neither of them moved, but their eyes met yours again, and the tension between them was palpable.
You paused for a moment, feeling the weight of their unspoken words hanging in the air. But this time, you didn’t feel trapped. You didn’t feel like you owed anyone anything, not the man, not Heeseung, and certainly not Ni-ki.
You walked toward the bar, shaking off the remnants of the dance. This was your night. You didn’t need to please anyone, not even yourself. Tonight, you were free to be exactly who you wanted to be.
---
You sat at the bar, your fingers grazing the rim of your glass as you let the cool liquid settle in front of you. The faint hum of music echoed throughout the club, but it was the low murmur of conversation around you that pulled your focus inwards. You were more aware than ever of the gaze that lingered on you from across the room. Heeseung and Ni-ki. The tension between them, the heat in their eyes, was unmistakable.
You could feel their stares on you, even as you kept your gaze fixed downward, swirling the drink in your hand. You weren’t foolish enough to ignore the pull you felt towards them—towards both of them. The problem now was how much you’d changed. How much you had grown. You’d spent months finding yourself, growing into the confident person you now were. The person who didn’t need to be defined by anyone else’s affection, not even by two men you once thought could hold you together.
But still, the pull of desire was there, a fire simmering under your skin as you remembered the passion, the tension, the way your body responded to their touch. A quick glance up from the drink confirmed what you already knew. They were still watching. It was like they couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop themselves from admiring the person you had become.
Your heart twisted at the thought. No more manipulation. No more games. This wasn’t the same dynamic anymore. They had changed—both of them. And so had you. But even though you knew what was best for you, it didn’t stop the temptation to feel wanted, to see them both fall apart for you. They were desperate. They were *whiny*—needing you, craving you in a way that sent warmth curling through your stomach.
And damn, did you love the control it gave you.
The music thudded louder in your ears as you took another slow sip of your drink. The temptation to look over, to meet their gazes, to see if they were still waiting for a signal from you, was almost unbearable. But you held back. You weren’t going to make this easy. Not for them.
Your fingers curled around the glass, tightening, before you finally gave in—just a little. You took a deep breath and raised your eyes.
They were still watching, their eyes locked onto you as if their very existence depended on it. Heeseung, a bit more reserved, but his gaze was hungry, desperate. Ni-ki, the younger one, a little more brazen, his expression full of longing, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back. And as your eyes met theirs, you could almost feel the weight of their desire pressing against you, like a magnetic pull that refused to be ignored.
You stared at them for a beat longer than necessary. Your lips curved up into a small, knowing smile, just enough to tease.
Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly raised your hand and pointed directly at them.
Both men froze. Their eyes widened. They exchanged a brief, almost imperceptible look between each other, but neither of them moved—not until they saw the slight smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.
That was it. That was all it took. Your simple gesture, your subtle command, had shattered whatever control they thought they had left.
And in that instant, both men broke.
Heeseung stood, his body tense, his breath shallow. He took a step toward you, then another, and another, the space between you closing rapidly. Ni-ki was right behind him, just as desperate, just as hungry.
They rushed toward you with a desperation that both thrilled and overwhelmed you. You watched them, your heart pounding as you felt the heat rise in your chest. You didn’t have to say anything. They had already learned what it meant to follow your lead.
The goosebumps along your skin prickled as they reached you, standing on either side, so close now you could feel the tension in the air between them. It was suffocating in the best way. Your power, your control over the situation, was undeniable.
For a moment, no one moved. The space between you was charged, humming with need, with desperation. They were waiting for you, as if they couldn’t take another breath without you giving them permission.
And that was when it hit you—how far they had both fallen, how much they had changed for you. The men you once thought had nothing to offer you were now completely at your mercy, and it felt good. So good.
This was what you had earned. This was your moment. You weren’t going to let them control you anymore.
Not now.
Not ever.
But you could let them want you. You could make them beg. And, oh, how you loved the idea of that.
You tilted your head slightly, your gaze shifting between them as a slow, deliberate smile spread across your lips. “You both know why you’re here,” you murmured, your voice low, almost taunting.
Heeseung’s chest rose and fell with every breath, his expression tense as if he were holding himself back from doing something he didn’t quite know he should. Ni-ki’s lips parted, and his eyes glittered with something darker, a rawness you hadn’t seen in him before.
Neither man spoke, but their eyes told you everything. They were both waiting. Waiting for you to take control. Waiting for you to make the first move.
And so, you did.
The bass reverberates through the floor as you rise from your seat without a word. You don’t need to say anything— you know they’re watching, know their bodies are already wound tight with anticipation. Your hips sway naturally, deliberately, as you step onto the dancefloor. The air is thick, pulsing with heat and music, but the real tension lies in the space between you and the two men who, despite their best efforts, can’t resist your pull.
Ni-ki and Heeseung share a glance, a fleeting second where restraint crumbles between them. Then, like moths to a flame, they follow.
The crowd parts subtly as you move, eyes catching onto the effortless way your body moves with the music.
The moment you step onto the dancefloor, you can feel the weight of their eyes on you. The bass pulses beneath your feet, the air thick with the scent of sweat, liquor, and electricity. Around you, bodies move in chaotic waves, but you command a different kind of rhythm—one that is slow, deliberate, intoxicating.
You don’t look back to see if they followed. You don’t need to. You know they have.
And then, just as you expected, they’re there.
When you finally slow, positioning yourself in the center of the dance floor, you feel them step into place behind you—one on each side, caging you in without a single touch.
Heeseung’s warmth spreads over your back first, his hands grazing your waist, hesitant at first, but that hesitation crumbles the second you roll your hips back against him. His grip tightens instantly, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. He exhales sharply against your ear, the heat of it making you shiver.
Ni-ki doesn’t hesitate at all. He steps in front of you, so close their chests nearly touch, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to us,” he murmurs, low and breathless.
You smirk, tilting your head slightly. “Oh, I think I do.”
And then you move.
Your body melts into Heeseung’s as you grind against him, slow and teasing. You feel the sharp inhale he takes, the way his grip turns bruising as he tries to control himself. But you don’t let up, rolling your hips deeper, pressing harder.
“Fuck,” Heeseung groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Ni-ki watches, his jaw clenched, eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your body moving against Heeseung’s. But he doesn’t stay idle for long. His hands slide over your arms before trailing lower, ghosting over your waist before settling firmly on your hips, sandwiching you between them.
“You think you can just do whatever you want, don’t you?” Ni-ki murmurs, voice thick with heat. His lips are dangerously close to yours now.
You tilt your head, lips parting slightly. “I know I can.”
Ni-ki chuckles, low and dark, before leaning in—his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. The featherlight touch sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as he presses a lingering kiss there.
Heeseung’s hands shift, one splaying over your stomach, pressing you further against him. His lips graze your ear again, his voice raspier now. “You love this, don’t you? Having both of us like this?“
You hum, tilting your head to the side to give Ni-ki better access to your neck. “Maybe.”
Ni-ki nips at your skin in response, making you gasp. Heeseung, not to be outdone, tightens his hold and grinds against you, letting you feel just how much you’re affecting him.
The music swells around you, drowning out everything else. They switch positions fluidly—Ni-ki sliding behind you now, his hands wandering, his breath hot against the back of your neck. Heeseung in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours, a challenge in them.
Ni-ki’s lips twitch into a smirk, his hands finding your hips as you both fall back into rhythm, moving together like you’ve done this a hundred times before.
You let your head tilt back against Ni-ki's shoulder, reveling in the feeling of their hands, their heat, their absolute desperation for you.
You’re completely in control. And they both know it.
You let them move with you, the three of you falling into a sensual, intoxicating rhythm. Your bodies press, shift, mold together, moving as one. Heat coils at the base of your spine as hands wander—touching, teasing, claiming.
People are watching. You can feel their gazes, some intrigued, others scandalized, but you don’t care. Let them look. Let them see what it means to be wanted.
Heeseung’s fingers trail up your side, featherlight yet possessive. Ni-ki’s hands tighten, anchoring you between them.
And you?
You smile, loving the newfound feeling of power.
The heat between you and them is unbearable now. Every grind, every whispered breath against flushed skin, every lingering touch has pushed them to the very edge of restraint. Both bulges in their pants undeniable by now, growing with each passing second. The music, the flashing lights, the crowd around you—it all fades into nothing.
You know they’re waiting for you. You can feel it in the way Heeseung’s grip flexes on your waist, in the way Ni-ki’s fingers hesitate against your skin as if fighting every instinct to just take you right here.
But they don’t.
Because they’ve changed.
Because they won’t let this happen unless they know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s what you want.
Ni-ki leans in first, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice strained, “tell us now if you want to stop.“
Heeseung, on the other side of you, breathes just as heavily. “We won’t take another step if you don’t want this.”
You pull back slightly, meeting both of their eyes. Their restraint is obvious—the tight clench of Heeseung’s jaw, the way Ni-ki’s fingers flex like he’s trying to stop himself from pulling you closer.
They’re waiting on you.
You smirk, tilting your head. “Then keep up,” you purr, before slipping out of their hold and striding toward the exit.
The second you step outside, you don’t have to turn to know they’re following.
---
The door to Heeseung’s apartment barely clicks open before Ni-ki pushes forward, his hand firm on your waist as he guides you inside, your bodies colliding in a heated frenzy. His lips crash onto yours without hesitation, kissing you like he’s been starving for you all night. You don’t even have time to catch your breath before you’re melting into him, fingers threading through his hair as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to claim you fully.
Heeseung steps inside after you, shutting the door with a quiet click. He should feel jealous—maybe even furious—but instead, he feels something entirely different. Something dark and electric curling in his stomach as he watches Ni-ki devour you, as he watches you let him.
You gasp against Ni-ki’s mouth when his hands slide down your sides, gripping the curve of your hips to pull you impossibly closer. Heeseung swallows, his throat dry as he leans against the door, his fingers twitching at his sides. He shouldn’t like this. But he does. God, he does.
Your dress rides up slightly as Ni-ki presses you against the cool wall, his lips trailing from your mouth down to the line of your jaw. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed, giving in to the feeling of Ni-ki’s lips ghosting down your throat. A quiet, breathy sigh leaves your lips, and Heeseung clenches his jaw.
You suddenly peek at him through lidded eyes, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice sultry and dripping with amusement.
Heeseung exhales sharply, pushing off the door. He steps forward, slow, deliberate, and when he meets Ni-ki’s gaze over your shoulder, there’s no rivalry—only understanding. Only shared desire.
And Heeseung finally realizes: He doesn’t mind sharing, not when it’s you.
Just as Ni-ki’s lips start trailing lower, you place a firm hand on his chest and push him back. He stumbles slightly, brows knitting together in confusion as he looks at you. Heeseung watches too, standing still, his breath caught in his throat as you straighten yourself up.
“Alright,” you say, smoothing down your dress with slow, deliberate movements, your confidence dripping into every word. “Before we take another step, let’s get one thing clear—I’m in charge tonight.“
Ni-ki’s lips part slightly, still catching his breath from the way he’d had you against the wall just moments ago. Heeseung, on the other hand, simply nods, his gaze locked onto yours like he’s ready to follow every single command you give.
You step forward, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you let your eyes scan over both of them, making sure they understand. You tilt your head. “No touching unless I say so.”
Ni-ki exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as if trying to compose himself, while Heeseung just bites his lower lip, nodding again, more eagerly this time.
“And no getting jealous.” Your eyes flicker between them, watching as they both exchange a look before quickly nodding again.
Your lips curve into a small, satisfied smile. “Good boys.”
Heeseung audibly exhales, his entire body going tense. Ni-ki, usually the cocky one, swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights the urge to reach for you again.
But you aren’t done.
You turn to Heeseung now, stepping into his space, and he immediately straightens up, eyes wide and expectant. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds against your palm, and you lean in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips.
It’s barely a second—just a taste, just a tease—but when you pull back, Heeseung makes the smallest sound.
A whimper.
You feel it in your stomach, the power you have over them both. Heeseung’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his breath shaky, his hands twitching at his sides as if he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for you.
“More,” he murmurs, almost pleading.
You just smirk. “Only if you behave.”
And Heeseung, desperate, nods without hesitation.
You step back slightly, arms crossing over your chest as you eye the two men in front of you. Heeseung’s lips are parted, his breath uneven, while Ni-ki rolls his shoulders back, like he’s trying to keep himself together. But you can see the way they’re both holding back—the tension in their muscles, the way their fingers twitch at their sides, desperate to reach for you.
You let the silence stretch between them, reveling in the power shift, before finally tilting your head. “If you want to touch me…” You trail off, tapping a manicured nail against your chin. “Then you should earn it.”
Ni-ki lifts a brow. “Earn it?”
You smirk. “Get on your knees.”
For a second, neither of them moves. Not out of defiance—but because they’re both stunned.
“You’re joking,” Heeseung finally says, voice a little breathless.
You raise a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
There’s a pause. A heavy, suffocating moment of tension.
And then—Ni-ki moves first.
He drops to his knees without hesitation, his dark eyes locked onto yours. A muscle in his jaw twitches, his usual confidence faltering under the intensity of your gaze. But he doesn’t care. He wants this—wants you.
Heeseung follows a beat later, exhaling sharply through his nose as he lowers himself. He swallows, looking up at you with wide, needy eyes, his fingers curling into fists against his thighs.
You let out a small hum of approval, stepping closer so that they’re kneeling right in front of you, looking up like you’re something to be worshipped.
Ni-ki exhales, licking his lips. “Let me touch you.” His voice is hoarse, lower than usual.
You tilt your head. “That’s not begging, Ni-ki.”
He groans, his hands twitching at his sides. “Please, Y/N,” he murmurs, the rasp in his voice making your stomach tighten. “I need to feel you.”
Heeseung shifts slightly, his lips parting. “Me too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “Please.”
You press your lips together, pretending to consider it. You can feel the heat radiating off them, the way they’re barely keeping it together. You reach out, brushing your fingers through Heeseung’s dark hair, making him shudder at the touch.
“You can do better than that,” you muse.
Heeseung’s breath stutters, and then he lets out a soft, desperate whine. “Y/N,” he whispers, shifting on his knees. “Please. Please let me touch you. I’ll be good��I swear.“
Ni-ki exhales sharply, his hands gripping his own thighs like he’s holding himself back from just yanking you forward. “Please, princess,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “I’ll do anything.”
You grin now, reveling in the way they’re completely at your mercy. “Anything?”
They both nod—Ni-ki’s breath ragged, Heeseung’s lips trembling.
You let the moment stretch, making them squirm. Then, finally—you exhale and step back.
“Good boys.”
And just like that, you see them both nearly break.
You watch them—still on their knees, eyes blown wide, hands twitching like they’re holding back everything inside them just for you.
You hum, dragging your fingers along Ni-ki’s jaw, then trailing them over Heeseung’s cheek. They both lean into your touch instantly, like it’s the only thing keeping them sane.
“Since you were both so good for me,” you muse, “I’ll let you touch me now.”
Their sharp inhales fill the space between them, but before they can get ahead of themselves, you lift a single finger.
“But only how I say.”
They nod instantly.
You tilt your head. “Carry me to the bed.”
For a moment, they hesitate—not because they don’t want to, but because they both move at the same time, hands bumping into each other as they reach for you. There’s a flicker of something between them—silent, understanding, but also competitive.
Then Ni-ki moves first, wrapping an arm under your legs while Heeseung supports your back, and together, they lift you effortlessly. You let your head fall back slightly, allowing yourself to revel in the way their strong arms hold you—secure, reverent, desperate.
They carry you to the bed as if you’re something precious, something delicate. But you are anything but delicate.
As soon as you’re placed on the soft sheets, you straighten, looking between them. They’re standing now, both looming over you, waiting—hanging onto your every move.
You smirk, running a slow hand up your thigh, watching the way their gazes follow it like magnets.
“Take off my dress,” you order. “And my shoes. But nothing else.”
A sharp breath from Heeseung. Ni-ki’s jaw clenches.
But they obey.
Ni-ki moves first, fingers reaching for the straps of your dress, sliding them down your shoulders with agonizing slowness. His fingertips ghost over your skin, and you don’t miss the way his breath shudders.
Heeseung’s hands trail down your legs, working on unstrapping your heels, knuckles brushing against your skin as he slides them off, one by one. His fingers are warm, careful—almost worshipping.
The dress pools at your waist now, and Ni-ki glances up at you for permission before sliding it further down. You give a small nod, and he exhales, dragging the fabric over your hips, down your thighs, until it’s nothing but a heap on the floor.
Now, you sit before them—legs crossed, clad only in lace and confidence.
You see it—the way they both freeze, eyes dark and heavy, drinking you in like you’re their last salvation.
You shift slightly, watching their gazes flicker over you.
But before they can move—before they can even think about reaching for you—you raise a finger again.
“That’s enough,” you murmur. “Now… just look.”
A sharp pause.
Ni-ki’s throat bobs. Heeseung’s hands tighten into fists.
And then, they do exactly as they’re told.
They look.
You lean back against the headboard, your legs crossed as you study the two men standing before you. Their chests rise and fall unevenly, their hands twitching at their sides, desperate to reach for you. But you aren’t going to make this easy for them. No, they have to earn it.
“Since you’re both so eager,” you muse, tilting your head, “why don’t you start by showing me how much you really want it?”
Heeseung and Ni-ki exchange a glance, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. The room is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, their skin more sensitive, their breathing more labored.
Your lips curl. “Kiss each other.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Heeseung’s breath hitched, his eyes darting between Ni-ki and you, searching for some kind of confirmation that you’re serious. Ni-ki, on the other hand, lets out a sharp exhale, licking his lips as he studies Heeseung’s reaction. There’s no protest, no outright rejection—just the heavy weight of hesitation settling over them both.
“Or,” you shrug, trailing a slow, teasing finger down the bare skin of your thigh, “you don’t have to. But then, neither of you get to touch me.”
A quiet, unspoken understanding passes between them. It’s a test—a challenge they aren’t willing to fail.
Ni-ki swallows hard, shifting on his feet. Heeseung clenches his jaw.
Then, finally, Heeseung exhales. “Okay.”
Ni-ki nods, as if reassuring himself.
Slowly, Ni-ki reaches out, his fingers curling into the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt. There’s a moment of pause, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. The anticipation alone sends a ripple of something dangerous and thrilling through your veins.
Then, in one swift motion, Ni-ki pulls Heeseung forward.
Their lips meet in a clash of uncertainty and heat. The first contact is tentative, almost questioning, but the moment their mouths move against each other, something shifts. Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath at the unexpected sensation, and Ni-ki, testing the waters, tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to pull them further into the moment.
You smirked, heat pooling in your stomach as you watched them melt into each other.
The hesitation is still there, lingering in the way their fingers twitch against fabric, in the sharp inhales between parted lips. But with every passing second, that hesitation begins to unravel—replaced by something neither of them can deny.
They liked it.
The realization hits at the same time.
A quiet, shaky exhale leaves Heeseung’s mouth as Ni-ki’s hand slides up his arm, gripping lightly. Heeseung responds in kind, fingers curling into the hem of Ni-ki’s shirt, pulling him in just a little closer. Their movements are equal, neither leading nor following, just moving together, testing, exploring, discovering.
Your lips parted slightly, amusement flickering in your gaze. “Good boys.”
That simple praise sends a visible shudder through both of them.
Heeseung lets out the softest whimper against Ni-ki’s lips, and the sound sends a jolt of something electric down Ni-ki’s spine. Emboldened, he mirrored the same energy, pressing in just enough to elicit a quiet gasp from Heeseung this time. They both felt it—the shift, the hunger, the desire crackling between them like a slow-burning fire.
They broke apart only when the need for air became unbearable.
Both of them are breathless, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from the exchange.
You slowly uncrossed your legs, dragging your fingers down your collarbone in deliberate, tantalizing strokes. “Now,” you purred, watching them closely, “let’s see if you can follow my next order just as well.”
And judging by the way their bodies were already responding to you, you had no doubt they would.
You let the silence stretch, your gaze trailing lazily over the two breathless men in front of you. Their lips were swollen, their bodies tense, their eyes locked onto yours like you were the only thing that existed.
A slow smirk curled at the corner of your mouth. “Touch each other.”
Heeseung’s breath caught. Ni-ki’s fingers twitched.
Your nails grazed your thigh, just enough to draw their attention. “Make it feel good.”
A muscle in Heeseung’s jaw clenched, his mind visibly working through the command. Ni-ki, on the other hand, exhaled sharply, shifting where he stood, but he didn’t step back. Neither of them did.
Because they wanted this. Maybe more than they were ready to admit.
It was Ni-ki who moved first, his hand lifting hesitantly before pressing against Heeseung’s waist. The touch was light—almost experimental—but it sent a ripple of something electric through both of them. Heeseung inhaled shakily, his body stiff for only a second before his own hands came up, brushing tentatively against Ni-ki’s arms.
You tilted your head, watching intently. “Come on,” you murmured, your voice dripping with expectation. “You can do better than that.”
Ni-ki swallowed hard, his fingers tightening. Heeseung mirrored the motion, his palms sliding up the curve of Ni-ki’s shoulders. Their breathing grew heavier, their touches lingering, testing.
Then, as if something finally clicked, Ni-ki’s hands moved. They trailed over Heeseung’s chest, fingertips dragging over fabric, pressing just enough to make him shudder. Heeseung exhaled sharply, and in response, he let his own hands wander—gliding down Ni-ki’s sides, tracing the shape of his ribs.
A quiet, unspoken challenge passed between them.
Ni-ki’s fingers dipped lower, teasing at Heeseung’s waistline, and Heeseung retaliated by ghosting his touch up the bare skin just beneath Ni-ki’s shirt. A quiet hitch of breath escaped him at the contact.
You bit your lip, your gaze dark with satisfaction. “That’s more like it.”
Something changed in the air.
What started as obedience had shifted into something else entirely.
Ni-ki and Heeseung weren’t just following orders anymore. They were reacting—exploring, pushing boundaries neither of them had considered before. And judging by the way their hands refused to let go, they weren’t stopping anytime soon.
You let the moment stretch, drinking in the sight before you—two men tangled in something neither of them fully understood yet, but neither of them wanted to stop. Their breathing was heavy, their hands still lingering on each other as if unsure whether to pull away or press closer.
A slow, satisfied smile curled across your lips. “Take off your shirts.”
The command settled over them like a slow-burning fuse.
Heeseung blinked, his fingers twitching where they still rested against Ni-ki’s waist. Ni-ki, usually so composed, let out a slow breath, his throat bobbing.
Your gaze darkened. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
That was all it took.
Neither of them spoke. They only exchanged a glance—brief but charged—before moving at the same time.
Fingers grasped fabric, muscles flexing as they pulled their shirts over their heads in one smooth motion. The air between them grew heavier, thick with something unspoken as their shirts hit the floor.
You leaned back against the headboard, letting your gaze trail lazily over them. Bare skin, toned and flushed, chests rising and falling in tandem. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their fingers twitched slightly, as if waiting for your next move.
You dragged a slow finger along your collarbone, watching how their eyes followed the movement. Then you tilted your head, your voice soft but laced with authority.
“Now touch me.”
There was no hesitation this time.
Two pairs of hands reached for you at once.
You felt the heat radiating from their bare skin as their hands hovered just above you, waiting for the moment they were allowed to touch. But you weren’t going to give them that satisfaction so easily.
You exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch, savoring the way their chests rose and fell with restrained anticipation. Then, you tilted your chin up and spoke, your voice soft yet commanding.
“Ask for it.”
Heeseung’s fingers twitched, his breath hitching slightly. Ni-ki licked his lips, his jaw tightening.
You smirked. “If you want to touch me, you need to say it.”
There was a flicker of hesitation between them—pride warring with desire. But you could already see it in their eyes. They wanted this too much to resist.
Heeseung was the first to break, his voice low and rough. “I want to touch you.”
Ni-ki followed, his words slightly more controlled, but no less desperate. “Let me touch you.”
You ran a teasing hand down your own arm, watching the way their gazes tracked the movement hungrily. Then, you let out a satisfied hum.
“Good boys.”
Their bodies tensed at the praise, but before they could react, you leaned forward slightly, your next command slipping from your lips like a promise.
“Use your mouths.”
The room was thick with anticipation, the air charged with something electric. Your command lingered, a promise wrapped in temptation.
Heeseung and Ni-ki hesitated for only a second before moving at the same time, drawn in by the invisible pull between them.
Heeseung was the first to lean in, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He started slow, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss against the curve of your shoulder. Ni-ki followed, mirroring him on the other side, his lips brushing just beneath your jaw.
You exhaled, your fingers curling against the sheets, your satisfaction evident in the way you tilted your head back slightly, exposing more of your neck.
Encouraged, they grew bolder.
Ni-ki’s lips trailed lower, his mouth pressing against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment as if testing how much he was allowed. Heeseung mirrored his movements, his touch just as reverent, yet equally unrestrained. There was no competition now, no fight for dominance—only them moving in perfect sync, learning, exploring, savoring.
You could feel it, the shift between them. What had started as obedience was turning into something more. The careful touches, the way their lips mapped over your skin—it wasn’t just for you anymore.
They liked this.
You could feel it in the way their breaths grew heavier, in the way their hands hovered near your waist, unsure if they were allowed to touch more. You could hear it in the barely-there sounds they let slip, low and unguarded.
You smirked, your fingers lifting to tangle lightly in Heeseung’s hair, then in Ni-ki’s, pulling just enough to make them pause. Their eyes met yours, dazed, wanting.
“You’re both doing so well,” you murmured, your voice smooth, dripping with satisfaction.
The praise sent a visible shudder through them both.
Your breath hitched as Heeseung’s gaze locked with yours, his eyes dark with anticipation. The tension between them was thick, palpable, and you could feel it swirling around you, pulling you in. Without a word, you moved closer, your fingers brushing over the side of his face, your hand gently cupping his jaw.
Heeseung's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he leaned into your touch, his lips parted slightly. Your thumb traced the line of his lips, feeling the heat radiating from him. You could see the barely-contained desire in his expression, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Your heart raced, but you weren’t in a hurry—you wanted to savor this.
Slowly, you guided his face closer to yours, your fingers gripping his jaw just firmly enough to pull him into you. You felt him hesitate, just for a moment, before he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours with a gentle yet urgent pressure.
The kiss was slow at first, tender, as if you were both testing the waters. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, and Heeseung deepened it just slightly, his hand coming up to rest on your waist. It was an exploration, a careful exchange of desire and need.
But you weren’t done yet. As the kiss deepened, you turned your attention to Ni-ki, who had been watching you intently, his body tense with a mix of impatience and desire. You tilted your head, your eyes locking with his, and with a subtle, commanding gesture, you placed your hand on the back of his head, gently guiding his face downwards.
Ni-ki didn’t pull away, but instead leaned into your touch, his breath catching as he felt the pressure of your fingers on his skin. Slowly, he allowed himself to be guided, his mouth moving lower, his lips brushing against your thighs as you kept your grip steady.
Your heart raced at the sensation of both of them so close, so present. Heeseung’s lips were soft against yours, deepening the kiss with a mix of hunger and restraint, while Ni-ki’s breath ghosted over your skin, the warmth of him radiating through you as he followed your lead.
The kiss between you and Heeseung grew more heated, the intensity rising with every passing second. You could feel the pulse of desire between you, a raw, electric connection. At the same time, Ni-ki’s touch against your still clothed cunt sent a shiver down your spine, the combination of the two driving your senses wild.
As the kiss broke, you pulled back just enough to look into Heeseung’s eyes, your fingers still resting on his face. He was breathing heavily, his lips slightly swollen, and one could see the mix of longing and frustration in his gaze. You smiled, your voice soft but commanding, "You both wanted this... Now show me just how much."
And just like the Ni-ki rushes to push your panties down your thighs, the lack of fabric against your sensitive cunt rips a guttural moan from your throat.
They both came to a halt after hearing the noise.
It was almost too much. The way your voice, quiet but dripping with heat, seemed to vibrate through the space, making their hearts race and their breaths quicken. Your fingers gripped the fabric of the sheets beneath you, the sound of it brushing against the bed mingling with your breathless sighs, sending a jolt of raw need through both of them.
Ni-ki’s hand tightened into a fist at his side, his knuckles white. His lips parted, as if he were struggling to hold back, his entire body wound tight with the need to move. Heeseung’s gaze was just as intense, his lips pressed in a thin line, eyes dark with the strain of keeping control.
You met Ni-ki's gaze, voice low and commanding, "Go ahead, I want to see what you can do."
As soon as the words slip past your lips, Ni-ki pushes his head in between your legs and this time you physically can't stop yourself from bucking your hips into his touch.
"Heeseung continue", you hiss through gritted teeth only to choke on your words as soon as Ni-ki licks a long stripe over the entirety of your cunt, savoring every drop landing on his tongue like it's the sweetest meal he's ever tasted.
Heeseung’s gaze flickered between Ni-ki and you, his breath shallow as he watched Ni-ki’s every movement. Heeseung’s body ached to be closer, to stake his claim in the space between them. The sight of Ni-ki inching closer to you only ignited something deeper within him, something primal.
But then he remembered the rules for tonight.
Without a word, Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your jaw. Your eyes met his for a split second, and that was all he needed. He closed the distance between you, kissing you with a hunger he could no longer control.
Ni-ki doesn’t even notices Heeseungs eagerness, to occupied with losing himself in your taste. "F-Fuck", he grunts and digs his fingers deeper into the skin of your ass cheeks, hating himself for losing his composure but to his luck your way too fucked out already to take notice of his little outburst.
Heeseungs takes this as a signal to make his move by making your tits his new territory. He looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pleading to finally be allowed to touch you, claim you, taste you more. If only you’d allow him to take of that lacy bra he wanted to rip off all night.
And the moment your eyes lock and you nod at him, he rips it of and attaches his mouth to your hard and perky nipples.
You long lost control of yourself as moan after moan follows each breathless gasp for air and high pitched whimper of both their names.
Yet again, Ni-ki doesn't give you enough time to catch a breath of air by sucking your clit into his mouth, applying just enough pressure on your sensitive clit with his tongue to have you gasping for air.
Heeseung is relentless, careless and sloppy. Loud slurping noises match the actions of his mouth as he licks every spot he can reach, not a single word leaving his lips as he's too busy making sure to leave no spot untouched.
It doesn't take long for you to tip toe around the edge as Ni-ki switches between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and drawing circles into your needy bundle of nerves.
"C-Close", you suddenly whisper and it's then that Ni-ki realises that he's had his eyes closed the whole time, like some pussy drunk freak.
“Fuck, yes. Make me cum“ you moans. And Ni-ki doesn’t need to be told twice. The second he goes back to pushing his tongue into your tight hole, you feels a wave of relief hit your nerves and before you can even process what's happening, Ni-ki applies just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive clit and easily pushes you over the edge with just those few movements, while Heeseung is still touching and kissing you all over. He even started leaving hickeys all over your neck and collarbones.
You doesn’t know how much time passes until you regains your composure but it's the sound of Heeseung unbuckling his belt which pulls you back into reality.
You pulled back abruptly, your fingers curling around Heeseung’s jaw, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes, once filled with heat, were now sharp, commanding.
"Did I say you could do that?" Your voice was low, dangerous.
Heeseung swallowed hard, his lips still parted, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He didn’t answer fast enough.
Your grip tightened, your nails pressing into his skin just enough to make him shiver. "I asked you a question, Heeseung."
He hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "No... you didn’t."
A smirk ghosted across your lips, but there was no warmth in it. "Then I guess you’ll have to make up for that mistake."
With a slow, deliberate push, you guided him back, her tone dripping with authority. "Sit down. Now."
After that you continues pulling down his jeans, but stop when you reaches his boxers. As slow as possible you start palming him trough them. And while it didn’t seem like a punishment at first, Heeseung understands now, cause he doesn’t want nothing more than just to be touched by you.
Heeseung bit down on his lower lip, muffling a whimper as his body trembled. Your hands slip under his boxers stroking his hard dick, but still slow and teasing.
His eyes, glossy with unshed tears, flickered upward, searching for mercy. “P-please…” he choked out, voice barely above a whisper.
A low chuckle met his plea. “Oh? Now you’re begging?” Fingers traced the curve of his jaw, tilting his chin up. “You knew there’d be consequences, didn’t you, Heeseung?”
His breath hitched as he nodded, another broken whimper slipping past his lips. He had known. But knowing never made it any easier.
Ni-ki sat perfectly still, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, his body tense with restraint. Heeseung’s soft whimpers filled the room, each one making it harder for him to stay still, to not reach out—to not react.
His jaw tightened as he swallowed the urge to move. He wanted to do something, anything, but he knew better. You hadn’t given him permission.
His gaze flickered toward you, eyes pleading, desperate for instruction. But all he received was a knowing smirk and a simple command:
“Stay.”
So he did. Even as Heeseung trembled beside him, even as his own resolve threatened to crack.
And then finally you pulled away from Heeseung, only to move forward and align your glistening cunt with his cock.
Heeseung who was already overstimulated by now, cried out as you lowered himself painfully slow. When his hard cock reached fully inside of you a loud moan left the both of you.
And with two words Heeseung felt like he could finally breathe again: “Fuck me“.
Heeseung’s hesitation melted away the moment he realized you weren’t stopping him. His grip tightened, his breath coming faster, excitement flickering to life in his darkened eyes.
A low chuckle slipped from his lips—this was what he had been craving. Control. Power. And now that you’d given him a taste, he wanted more.
He moves quickly, almost too eagerly, his cock thrusting into you hard and fast. “Fuck“ Ni-ki moans, sitting right next to you and watching the scene unfold.
Your hand is quick to grab Ni-kis face to pull him closer to your body, your dark eyes roaming his features, expression dripping in the deadly combination of ecstasy and lust.
“Open up“
The command was sharp, leaving no room for hesitation. And there was none. His lips parted instantly, instinctively, his breath hitching just slightly as he held still, waiting for whatever you decided to give him.
You leaned in slowly, letting the anticipation coil between you, before finally letting the saliva drip from your lips into his waiting mouth.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed without question, without complaint.
“Good boy,” you murmured, watching the way his pupils dilated at the praise. He didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact—just waited, ready for whatever you wanted next.
At the same time it feels like Heeseung is hitting every single one of your sweetest spots, the tip of his cock grazing the entrance to your womb with every single one of his movements.
Your voice cut through the moans, firm and unwavering. “Switch.”
Ni-ki moved first—quick, obedient, slipping seamlessly into Heeseung’s position without hesitation. This time you sat down facing the other direction, your ass facing Ni-ki. Heeseung, on the other hand, hesitated for just a second, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to protest. But one sharp look from you had him lowering his gaze and moving, albeit slower, adjusting to his new role.
You pulled him in front of you, while lowering yourself on Ni-ki. It doesn't take him too long to find the perfect rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of your tight cunt just to thrust himself back inside of you with sharp movements of his hips.
At the same time you guided Heeseungs dick in to your mouth as a reward for being this good to you the last few hours. All you can do is moan on his dick as the feeling of both their cocks filling you up takes over the last bits of your rational thinking. Lee Heeseung and Nishimura Riki are doing soemthing to your body you’ve never experienced before and at this point you don’t even know what to feel or think.
You feel your second orgasm building up and notices how the two men fucking you are also nearly there. So without saying another word, you push your hand between your bodys and start rubbing another set of harsh circles onto your clit.
It takes exactly a minute and the combination of Ni-kis merciless thrusts and Heeseung pushing his cock down your throat with just the right clit stimulation for you to cum all over Ni-kis cock. This time your orgasm feels even more intense, so intense your vission actually darkens for a solid second before turning blurry.
You're so caught up in the sweetness of your own relief, you barely notice the way Ni-kis thrusts start growing sloppy and uncoordinated and without giving it another thought, you lazily reach back to grab a fistful of his hair and pull at the thick strands and just as expected is the pain in his scalp enough to elicit a deep, gutturual moan from him as he cums inside of you.
Finally heaving your full attention Heeseung reaches for your mouth and trusts a few times more before pulling out with a heavy and breathy moan and coming all over your face.
Heavy breathing is the only sound to fill Heeseung's room for the following few minutes, and as the fog of pleasure slowly starts disappearing, you feel like you're finally able to breathe again.
The room was quieter now, the intensity from earlier gradually fading as the atmosphere shifted. You stood before Heeseung and Ni-ki, their gazes following you, not with the same weight of submission as before, but with an unspoken respect.
“Alright,” you said softly, your voice no longer carrying the sharp edge of authority it once did. “We’re back to normal now.”
Heeseung straightened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally exhaled, his posture more relaxed than it had been in hours. His eyes met yours with a quiet understanding, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The control had returned to its proper balance, and with it, a certain ease between all of you.
Ni-ki shifted, the electric energy that had once surged through him now tempered with calm. He gave a small nod, his gaze not as intense as before but still filled with a hint of admiration. He wasn’t seeking approval anymore; there was something deeper now, a trust that had been forged through everything that had happened.
“Better?” you asked, more out of curiosity than anything.
Heeseung nodded, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Much better,” he replied, his voice more at ease now. Ni-ki’s agreement came in a quiet murmur, a subtle shift in his demeanor that mirrored the new harmony between all of them.
“You know,” Ni-ki said, breaking the quiet, “we can do this any way you want. Just… don’t make it so heavy next time.”
You smirked slightly, a playful glint in your eye. “I think we all learned something today, didn’t we?” you said, letting the words hang in the air.
Heeseung shot you a teasing look. “Next time, I get to make the rules.”
“Not so fast,” you replied with a soft laugh, feeling the balance settle back into place. The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet, the air lighter now that the tension had dissipated. You sat on the couch, surrounded by Heeseung and Ni-ki, both of them more relaxed than they had been hours ago. The moments of intensity had passed, but the shift in the atmosphere was palpable—there was a newfound understanding between all of you.
“We’ve been through a lot,” you said, voice soft yet steady. You could feel the weight of the day lifting off everyone’s shoulders, a sense of peace spreading through the room.
Ni-ki glanced at Heeseung before speaking up, his tone light but sincere. “I think we’re good now, yeah? It doesn’t feel as… tense anymore.”
Heeseung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I agree. We’ve figured things out.” He met your gaze, eyes filled with a mixture of respect and something deeper, a connection that went beyond the dynamics of control.
You smiled, leaning back against the cushions, feeling content with how things had turned out. “This is what it should always be—trust and understanding. We each have our roles, but we’re all in this together.”
The three of you sat in silence for a moment, the quiet comfortable. No longer defined by power struggles or control, the bond between you all had evolved into something more genuine, more real. It wasn’t about dominance or submission anymore; it was about each of you finding your place and respecting each other’s limits, desires, and needs.
Eventually, Heeseung reached over, nudging Ni-ki playfully. “So, what now?”
Ni-ki grinned, the energy that had once been electric now settling into something more playful. “Now? We just… live, I guess.”
You looked at them both, a sense of pride swelling in your chest. “Exactly,” you said. “No rush. Just… live.”
Note: Yeahh… so that just happened… not proofread yet btw
Still let me know how you liked it :)
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SKZ Mate: Chapter 5
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Warnings: Childhood trauma, communes, assault, verbal threats
"Hollow Woods is where I grew up. On the Eastbank near Wraithwood. I grew up in a relatively large pack, there were about twenty other werewolves. Some alpha. Some beta and some omega. The majority of them, all had children. I was one of the children. There were roughly 15 or 18 children, there may have been more. It was more like a commune. The children of the pack would go to school in the morning and learn how to be a werewolf. You would learn the basics of hunting and survival skills. The older children, like myself, would learn how to be what we are. In my case, learn about being an omega...
You were incredibly unlucky if you were an omega in our pack. It was the worst thing to ever be. If you were an omega you were fated to downfall. As a female omega, your job was to be a concubine for an alpha. To produce an Apex. Yet, it was never possible for them. The majority of omegas that were born were male in our pack. The ones who were female lost their lives because they were succumbed to mistreatment. Omega's had little rights in our tribe. They were subjected to their alphas most of the time, meaning when an alpha wanted something an omega did it. If an alpha had a rut they needed an omega. If an alpha was angry they needed an omega to take the pain away. Despite all that, an omega was not allowed near an alpha nor a Beta. They were only allowed near them if the called upon them or sent them to a beta. It was tough for all of us. Even for my mother!
My mother was an omega, conceived by two omegas that rebelled against their alphas. Before they were sentenced to death they pleaded with the alpha at the time to take my mother in. My mother was 14 at the time when she watched her parents die. My mother swore she would never make the same mistake her parents made. Instead, my mother was forced to be with our head alpha as his mate in hopes of producing an Apex, but sadly it never happened. My brothers Joshua, Samuel and I were born as Omega. Even my younger brother Milo came out as an omega. We watched our mother for years get slandered and beaten by our alpha for never conceiving an Apex. What was funny to us was our mother conceived an Alpha with Jiyong! Turns out our head alpha cannot conceive other alphas because they were not soul mates. Poor Alpha Jackson! He never got what he dreamed of.
That was until our head alpha committed a heinous act. He forced an omega to conceive an apex through necromancy. This led to an upral with neighbouring packs, particularly one pack. They threatened our pack and told them they would be reported to the elders and the council. So they had to make a pact, or a trade, if you will. They will keep the secret of the apex being born through necromancy if my pack hands over a virgin omega! Well, you see, that was easy for our head alpha because I was the only virgin female omega. The only reason I was a virgin omega is because I hated half of the beta boys in our back. They were flamboyant casanova peacocks."
"So what happened to the apex and their mother did they survive? I've never heard of the omega mother surviving a forced apex pregnancy?" Changbin interrupted her novella out of curiosity. He had heard the story of an apex being born but he didn't think it was true. "From what the pack I was given to told me, they both didn't survive. The mother died during childbirth and the apex died because he went into a sub-drop too early on." Y/N answered with a shrug. "That's crazy. What were they thinking." Changbin stated. He couldn't believe an infant could go through a sub-drop. It was near enough impossible. "Not to disrespect your pack nor your family, but was it more like a breeding farm?" Seungmin asked, causing everyone in the room to freeze. They all thought the same thing but no one wanted to say anything to offend her as she was opening up for the first time with them. "Ah. Yes. Yes it was. They breed to create omegas in hopes that omega would be an alpha's soul mate. Yet it never happened or the omega rebelled and fled" Y/N answered sadly as she looked down at the wooden floor. "That's fucked up," Seungmin stated. He was about to continue when Chan stopped him with a warning glare. "Please continue Y/N. If at any point it gets too much we can stop and talk about it another day." Chan reassured with a promise.
"Going back to what I was saying. I was basically given to-" "It was Ateez wasn't it? You were given to Hongjoong." The red-haired alpha interrupted with a low growl. His eyes narrowed in on her. "How di-" "I can smell him all over you. Such a disgrace." Hyunjin spat before walking out, leaving the room with an icy feeling. None of them knew what to say at Hyunjins outburst. "Please don't mind Hyunjin little wolf. Hyunjin has quite the history with Ateez." Chan explained with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Chan realised this might complicate things as Chan had already stolen from Hongjoong before. "It makes sense," Seungmin added as he watched the omega drop her head in shame. "What does hyung?" The younger alpha asked as he pulled on Seungmin's jumper. "Why our omega was so afraid of us? Look at her Innie. Look at the state of her. You can tell what they've done to her. It was probably that demonic little alpha." Seungmin growled making the omega shrink into the sofa even more. "Seonghwa isn't an alpha," Y/N muttered. "What?" They all said. "Seonghwa is a beta. He just pretends to be an alpha. They only have one other alpha, Wooyoung. It's only because Hongjoong gives him the power that he acts like a fucking alpha." Y/N growled, her eyes sparkling in anger. "So the other six are Betas?" Chan asked in confirmation causing Y/N to stare at him in bewilderment. "You mean the other four are betas. Two of them are omegas. Three including me." Y/N said. "Wait what!" Jisung and Changbin shouted. "Those fucking liars. They're corrupted." Changbin screamed. "Yeah, and you guys are not corrupt," Y/N answered as she rolled her eyes. As far as she was aware Straykids was as bad. "I guess that means we have a lot to think about, but for now let's hold that thought. We can think about Ateez's politics later." Chan looked around the room before continuing. " Minho can you go and check on Hyunjin he will need your guidance. Changbin take Jisung and Seungmin to the border and patrol for the next few hours. They will have realised Y/N-"
Everything sped up for Chan in an instant. One minute his omega was opening up about her background and the next minute she was on the floor withering in immense pain. He knew within seconds it was her previous alpha trying to track her down. He was trying to communicate with her through his bond and mark, but it was only resulting in her suffering. It was clear to Chan that her old alpha, Hongjoong, was trying to make her suffer. Chan knew he needed to remove the mark from her, both of them, but it would be too obvious. He needed Hyunjin to help him and he needed him to act now, regardless of the consequences!
"Hyunjin!" A panicked Chan called out. Within seconds of calling Hyunjin, Chan had his mouth over the top of Hongjoong's mark and bit down on top of it at the same time Hyunjin bit down on the mark on her ass. Both of them could feel the power of the two Ateez marks as they tried to override it by forcing their power onto her. The problem with overriding an alpha mark is it could result in death for that omega. Wolves knew it was rare to have a soul mate which was why they heavily branded and marked their omegas so they wouldn't go missing. Ateez was aware of that. They knew she wasn't really theirs, but they had to lie to her so she wouldn't leave them. What neither of the Alphas realised was how much power the two Ateez alphas had. Chan and Hyunjin were struggling to break the bond as they assaulted her neck, forcing submission. It was an awful sight to see and quite frankly frightened the other forgotten wolves who were witnessing the assault. They had never seen either of the alphas in such an aggressive sadistic state. They couldn't believe how quickly Chan ripped her jumper to sink his fangs straight into her. His eyes glowed a dark shade of ruby as blood poured down her neck. Hyunjin, wasn't any kinder as he bit down on her ass with a deep growl, is hands dug into her calf while the other dug into her waist, leaving nail marks.
The two younger betas, Felix and Jisung were in hysterics as they jumped straight into Minho's lap cuddling up to him. They didn't like to see their omega in such an awful position, they wanted to take it away. They wanted to rip the two alphas off of her and make it all better, but they couldn't. None of them appreciated what was happening. It was making their stomach churn the louder Y/N cried. Her cries were getting louder and it didn't seem like the alphas were going to stop. Jeongin couldn't take it either. A new alpha dealing with the heightened emotions in the room was overwhelming. He could smell the omegas pain. He could smell her blood and anxiety that was bleeding through the entirety of the house. It was too much for him, he had to leave before he acted out. The other two betas, Seungmin and Changbin were stress nesting. They had decided to rearrange their alpha's bedroom completely, ready for their omega to rest in. Seungmin ripped off the covers in a panicked emotional state, slightly sniffing to himself as he changed the pillows. He feared the omega was really going to hate them now. Changbin was aggressively moving the furniture around, cursing his ancestors for making his life hell.
They all felt conflicted. Some felt sick. Some felt remorse. Some felt anger and hatred. Some even felt let down by their ancestors. Except for one little beta, Jisung. He felt hope despite all the trouble she brought. Jisung believed she was the best omega for them. He could feel it deep down which was why he had to stop them. He didn't want her to suffer anymore. His poor omega was bleeding out to the point she had blood coming out her mouth and neither of the alphas realised they were taking it too far. Jisung plucked up the courage to slam straight into his head alpha, causing Chan to slide his teeth down the front of her chest, before falling into the wall. Jisung knew he was risking it all for an omega they barely knew but it felt right as he stood in front of his head alpha stupidly as he tried to challenge him. His heart thumped in panic as he knew he royally fucked up as he heard the little omega scream out in pain as Ateez tried to push the unidentified invasive werewolf out. "Go. Downstairs. Now." Chan alpha ordered out of anger. Jisung put his head down in shame as he headed towards Alpha Hyunjins room of torture, knowing he was going to spend however long in there. Jisung shamefully opened up the metal gate and headed towards the metal chains, wrapping them around his ankles waiting for his punishment that would only come when the omega was safe.
Moments later, Jisung heard Chan and Hyunjin's heavy footsteps coming down into the basement. He wasn't afraid. In fact, he was relieved they were down sooner than he thought. It meant she was safe and marked. Of course, Jisung wasn't happy about his upcoming punishment but it will suffice until he gets to see his omega. "Jisung look at me," Chan ordered. His harsh voice cut through his body. "You know why I sent you down here?". "Yes, because I threw you into the wall for hurting our omega." He said blankly. His answer stunned the alphas. "Because you threw me into the wall." Chan nodded his head, thinking about the sarcastic answer he gave. "Alright. Phase back and forth fifty times a day until I say stop." Chan stated as he headed out the door before stopping. "You can start when Hyunjin breaks one of your back legs."
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz#skz x reader#skz smut#abanb#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know smut#changbin#changbin x reader#changbin smut#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smut#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#lee felix#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#seungmin#seungmin smut#jeongin#SKZ ABO#Straykids ABO
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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 19
Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18
A/N: happy reading! comments & thoughts are always appreciated! <3
The morning is quiet as Rafe ventures out onto the balcony, the early chill making goosebumps rise on his skin as she settles down on the couch. The mug of coffee is warm in his hand as he sips, head turned towards the view overlooking the backyard and pool area. The sun is slowly rising as Rafe checks his emails on his phone, responding to anything urgent while saving the others for later. He’s wide awake, having gotten in morning work out and shower in, and has some time to kill before he needs to get ready for work.
He pauses for a moment after finishing checking his emails, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he goes into his photo album and proceeds to change the lockscreen of his phone. He easily finds one of his favorite photos of Isla; one he took during one of their secret outings as they were walking, her hair tied back and lips a deep maroon, pulled back in a smile that showed off her dimples and made her eyes squint, chin lifted as she grinned at him while tugging on the strap of her bag.
She looks beautiful, adorable, and happy, not a care in the world. Rafe’s chest tightens as he stares at the photo of her—of his girlfriend—before setting it as the lockscreen picture of his phone. Now that their relationship is no longer a secret, he can do it like he had wanted to the second he took that picture. He loves her smile, can’t get enough of it. He’s a little obsessed, but with a girl like her, how can he not be?
“Hey. Good morning.” He looks up, surprised as he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching the sliding doors, and Rafe sits back when Sarah appears, hair slightly disheveled and an oversized sweatshirt, probably John B’s, drowning her frame.
“Hey.” His jaw clenches. He sees Isla’s teary eyed face in his mind, and though he knows Isla said that Sarah had come to her defense, it’s not so easy to forget how broken Isla looked yesterday. “Didn’t know you came home last night.” She spends most of her time at John B’s, and since she’s eighteen now, their dad lets her have her freedom.
Sarah clears her throat, stepping out and slowly moving to the chair opposite of him. “Yeah, everyone was asleep by the time I got in,” she says, sitting down with her hands sliding down the tops of her thighs to rest on her knees. Their gazes meet and Sarah’s shoulders slump slightly. “Isla told you what happened yesterday?” she asks carefully.
Rafe puts his mug down on the table with a slow inhale, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Yeah,” he answers evenly, gaze locking with his sister’s. “She was crying, Sarah.”
He sees her face fall, the regret evident in her brown eyes. Rafe is angry at how her friends found out, pissed that Topper interfered and fucked things up for Isla. He knew she was already so stressed, so anxious about telling her friends about their relationship, and had been waiting for the right time and right way to tell them. But Topper ripped that chance away from her, and she was more or less ambushed by the others. He hates that he wasn’t there for her; Rafe knows, as Isla said, it could have possibly made things worse. It could have had her friends on high alert and refusing to let their guards down if he was present. But at least he could have been there for her when she was being attacked by some of the people she loves the most.
Rafe could tell, just by the look in her eyes, how hurt she was, how upset. Her friends not hearing her out had been a blow. Honestly, Rafe has his friends, but after seeing Isla’s reaction yesterday—and what he knows of the Pogues—he knows that he’s never had the kind of friends that she has in them. It’s always been obvious how tight knit that group is and he can only ever admit it to himself, but Rafe has found himself, at times, being jealous of what they have. He wishes he had those kind of close friends, that kind of loyalty. For all of the shit he’s given the Pogues over the years, their closeness is always something he has admired.
So, to know that he’s the reason why, for Isla, it has gotten rocky—it physically pains him. He hated to see her cry; he’s angry that her friends reacted that way, even if it was expected. He’s desperate for them to be okay with their relationship; not because he wants their approval on his own, but because he knows Isla wants it, and he wants whatever she wants.
A part of him wonders if, if it came down to it, she would leave him to save her friendships. Truthfully, Rafe doesn’t think so—he doesn’t ever want to doubt her. But if she loses her friends because of him, because of his history with the Pogues, especially the guys, how would Rafe be able to live with himself?
“Everyone’s just. . . Shocked, you know?” Sarah says, breaking Rafe out of his thoughts. He blinks and refocuses his gaze on Sarah, who is playing with the blue threaded bracelet on her wrist. Matching to Isla’s yellow. He knows Kiara and Cleo have matching ones, too. “No one saw it coming and—how did it even happen, Rafe?” She shakes her head and Rafe’s throat locks when he realizes his sister looks awed, if anything. “How did. . . When did you start liking her?”
Rafe clenches his jaw, looking out beyond the railing, squinting slightly against the morning sun. His pulse quickens as he debates on his words to Sarah—words he hasn’t confessed to Isla. Not yet, anyway. “I think I always kind of liked her,” he murmurs, absently wringing his fingers together as he feels Sarah’s gaze burn his cheek. “I kept that to myself because I didn’t exactly get along with your friends. But then I’d see her smile and it just. . . Knocks me on my ass every time.” Rafe lets out a quiet, resigned chuckle. It’s the truth, though. Isla is gorgeous in ways that she could bring a king to his knees; her smile, though, is the first thing he noticed about her. Full lips pulled back to show the dimples that frame her mouth, showing off the apples of her cheeks and straight teeth, and the way her eyes squint a bit when she grins big. It’s a breathtaking sight—and one of Rafe’s favorites.
He focuses his gaze on his mug of half drunk coffee. “I knew she was too good for me, too kind. Hell, she still is. But then I saw her at your birthday party a few months ago and something shifted. I saw her hanging out with Wheezie and that was it for me.” Rafe looks at Sarah, who is gaping at him. The corner of his mouth tugs up as he shrugs. “She had me way before she even knew it.”
Sarah stares at him for a few long seconds, no doubt processing his words as she blinks slowly, lips parting. “I—” She stops, shaking her head as a disbelieving breath escapes her. “Wow. I had no idea it was like that for you,” Sarah says quietly, almost sheepishly. Like she’s embarrassed for doubting. Rafe can’t exactly blame her, but it still feels good to prove her otherwise. “Everyone kind of just assumed. . .”
She trails off with a shrug, and Rafe narrows his eyes. “Assumed what?”
Sarah twists her lips to the side, obviously hesitant, and Rafe clenches his jaw as he waits impatiently. “They assumed you were just using her, I guess?” She cringes when she says that, and Rafe knows it’s because his expression has darkened by her words.
“Using her?” he repeats tightly. If he clenched his jaw any more, he’s fairly certain his molars would crack. “What the fuck would I be—”
“It doesn’t make sense to me, either,” Sarah jumps in, in a tone that’s meant to calm him down.
But Rafe has been pissed off since yesterday, the second he saw tears in his girlfriend’s eyes. He’s fighting the instinctive urge to confront her friends, give them a piece of their mind. He doesn’t give a fuck what they say about him—but they can’t get away with how they had treated her, best friends or not. Hell, as her friends, bringing her to tears was not fucking okay, and the only reason Rafe hasn’t knocked down the door to the Chataeu is because he knows Isla won’t want him to do that.
“They’re just angry and confused,” Sarah continues, tucking a lock of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “Rafe, you’ve—” She sighs, trying for a helpless sort of smile as Rafe sits quietly, listening with his jaw working. “You all don’t get along, right? And that—that’s an understatement.”
His muscles are tense. “I haven’t done shit—”
“I know. I noticed,” Sarah cuts him off, eyebrows rising. “I think they just have the habit of looping you in with Topper and Kelce.” She winces while Rafe scoffs, leaning back with his arms crossed. “But all of you never got along growing up, either. There’s a lot of history there that can’t be forgotten so easily, you know? Y’all have thrown way too many punches at each other to pretend it never happened. And, trust me, Isla pointed out that they’re not innocent in that, either.”
Despite himself, he feels the corner of his mouth lift at the mention of his girl defending him. Sarah notices. “Besides, you weren’t too thrilled when John B and I started dating, but you. . . Tolerate him now, right?” she asks, her voice taking a hopeful lilt. Rafe presses his tongue to the back of his teeth and dips his chin slightly in a single nod. “It’ll just take some time for them to come around to this. It’s a shock, right? No one saw it coming.”
“They need to apologize to her,” he says tightly. Rafe doesn’t care if they accept him or not—as long as they’re respectful of his relationship with Isla, and accept that she’s happy with him. “Making her cry is not fucking okay, Sarah.”
His sister nods. “No, I agree,” she says before silence descends, and when Rafe glances at her a second later, he catches her watching him with a look on her face he can’t quite describe. Confused? Thoughtful? He can’t quite make sense of it.
“What?” he asks, sounding more put-out than snappy.
Sarah’s expression softens, her lips pressing together in a knowing smile as she tilts her head slightly. “You really like her, huh?” she asks, her smile widening slightly. “You’re so protective of her.”
“She’s my girl,” Rafe says unabashedly, proudly. “The last thing I want is for anyone or anything to hurt her.”
“Good,” Sarah says with a nod of approval, getting to her feet. Her smile softens, then, more gentle as she looks down at him. “I’m glad she’s got you in her corner. As surprising as this relationship is, I think you guys are good for each other.”
Rafe’s head snaps towards his sister, unable to keep the surprise off his face. When Isla had told him yesterday that Sarah had come to her defense, Rafe had been relieved and glad, for sure. His relationship with Sarah had never not been good; it had just gotten rocky when she first started dating John B and hanging out with his group, simply because of Rafe’s own history with them. But what he had told Isla was true—he sees how good John B is to Sarah, and how happy she is with him. Whatever Rafe’s issues were with them, he can acknowledge the truth when he’s faced with it.
He had hoped the same could have been said for Isla’s friends.
But actually hearing Sarah say that she thinks he and Isla are good together, basically giving her approval. . . It feels better than Rafe would have thought. He’s glad to know that Sarah is on board with this, no matter how surprising.
When she turns to leave, Rafe watches her back for a second before he blurts, “You and John B are good together, too.” Sarah stills and then glances at him over her shoulder, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. Rafe tries not to shift uncomfortably where he sits; truthfully, he’s only ever been truly vulnerable with Isla, but he wants to get better at it with others. For Isla and for himself; starting with Sarah. He pushes past his awkwardness, his hesitance. “I mean it. I see how happy you are with him. I’m sorry I ever gave you shit for it.”
A few beats of silence pass, Sarah no doubt processing his words, before a breath escapes her upturned lips. “See?” she hums, smiling. “She is good for you.”
*****
The blades of the fan whirr on the ceiling of Isla’s bedroom, and she half hopes the rhythmic spinning will lull her back to sleep. If she strains her ears, she can hear her parents downstairs in the kitchen, but she can’t quite hear her sister, and Isla doesn’t want to. She has no doubt that an argument is going to break out between her and Kie the second they see each other, and Isla doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. She doesn’t want to argue with Kie, and Isla knows that she might just go off on Kie if her sister says anything against Rafe. Which she definitely will.
But, God, Isla just doesn’t want to face Kie, period. Her sister didn’t stick by her, didn’t come to her defense at all. Kie, of all people, was someone Isla thought she could rely on. No matter Kie’s issues with Rafe, Isla had genuinely thought—hoped—that her sister would be on her side when everyone else came crashing down on her. Isla can’t entirely comprehend the pain that flares every time she thinks of Kie not siding with her—which is a lot, since that confrontation at the Chateau. Kie just let the others attack her—let JJ attack her. That isn’t lost on Isla, and she doubts she’ll be forgetting it any time soon.
Her phone beeps, pulling her out of her thoughts, and Isla reaches for it, disconnecting it from the charger and looking at the screen. She smiles at the sight of Rafe’s name.
From: Rafe🤍
Morning, baby. Hope you have a good day at work. Would it be totally fucked up if I visited you at work for lunch?
A breathy chuckle escapes Isla, heart fluttering as she responds.
To: Rafe🤍
hiiiii. it’d be fucked up if you DIDN’T visit me
She doesn’t care that Kie’s working today, too. Doesn’t care that it might just be the shift from hell, working with her sister for a few hours after yesterday’s shitshow. Isla’s not going to let that stop her from seeing her boyfriend whenever she wants.
From: Rafe🤍
Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you around lunch time.
To: Rafe🤍
okay, have a good dayyyy
She lets out a sigh, unable to stop herself from smiling. Texting him, unsurprisingly, lifts Isla’s spirits enough to get her to kick her comforter off and get up from bed. After quickly making her bed, she heads to the bathroom and freshens up, wanting some breakfast before she gets ready for work. Which means venturing down to the kitchen.
As Isla exits her room and heads down the stairs, she silently prays her sister isn’t around, but those prayers were in vain when she sees Kiara in the kitchen with their parents. Anna and Mike are behind the counter, cooking breakfast, and Kie is sitting on the other side on the stool, her back to Isla as she eats. Isla tenses, freezing where she stands in the threshold of the kitchen. She has half a mind to turn and go back up to her room when her dad spots her.
“Hey, honey. Come eat. We made pancakes,” he tells her with an easy going grin, waving the spatula to the counter where the stack of pancakes rests.
From where she stands, Isla sees Kie’s shoulders tense as she sits up and Isla’s throat works as she slowly, reluctantly, wanders further into the kitchen. She warily eyes Kie’s back, approaching the counter and sitting on the stool at the end, keeping some distance as she refuses to look at her sister.
The tension in the room intensifies as Isla places two pancakes on her plate, pouring maple syrup over them before she begins eating as her parents talk amongst themselves by the stove. Isla doesn’t look at Kie as she eats, the clinking of their utensils against the plates ringing with the tension that radiates between them.
Clearing her throat, Isla asks, “Mom, can I get some coffee?”
Anna nods before jerking her chin at Kie. “Kiara, pass the pot to Isla,” she says before turning back to talk to Mike.
The coffee pot is sitting right by Kie’s plate, and when Isla’s gaze slides over, she sees Kie continuing to eat breakfast while scrolling on her phone as if she didn’t hear their mom. Isla stares at Kie for a beat, hoping that her gaze will burn her sister’s cheek, but Kie keeps ignoring her and Isla’s jaw clenches. It’s easier to be angry than hurt as she gets off the stool and storms around Kie .
“Unbelievable,” Isla mutters as she snatches the pot.
As she walks back to her seat, she hears Kie scoff. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“Excuse me?” Isla demands, standing by her stool and putting down the pot, arms crossing as she stares Kie down. She’s vaguely aware of their parents’ conversation ceasing to look over at them. “If you have something to say, Kie, then say it.”
“Really?” Kie asks, spinning in the stool until she’s facing Isla. She narrows her eyes challengingly, head tilting. “No, thanks. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Girls—” Their dad tries to cut in, but Isla speaks over to him.
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says to Kie, shrugging her shoulders. “Since you had no problem letting the others talk to me that way and you didn’t say shit to them.”
Kie’s lips purse, nostrils flaring before she lifts her chin. “They were only telling you what you needed to hear,” she says. Then she lets out a short, humorless laugh and adds, “They were being honest with you—something you weren’t.”
Isla’s chest tightens, teeth pressing together to keep her lips from trembling. “I was going to tell you guys, but Topper beat me to—”
“You think this is about whether or not you were gonna tell us?” Kie asks, eyebrows pulling together as she gets to her feet. “It didn’t matter when you told us, or if—” Her glare sharpens and Isla damn near feels the sting of it. “This is about the fact that you’re dating Rafe Cameron.”
Anna lets out a breath. “Kiara—”
“Of all the freaking guys in Kildare,” Kie continues, staring at Isla in disbelief and contempt, “you chose him? Are you seriously that desperate? It’s pathetic—”
“Hey!” Anna exclaims, walking around the kitchen island to stand between the girls, her expression one of disapproval as she stares at Kiara. “That is not okay, young lady.”
But Isla—the air has stilled in her lungs at her sister’s words. Desperate. Pathetic. The hurt pangs through Isla’s chest and she has to stop herself from physically taking a step back. That’s what Kie thinks?
She thinks Isla is desperate? Isla’s throat locks up, but she swallows it down as Kie responds to their mom, “She’s dating the biggest asshole in Kildare, Mom! She—”
“I don’t care—you do not talk to each other like that,” Anna says with a shake of her head.
“What the hell is going on?” Mike asks, staring between the three of them in bewilderment. Isla presses her teeth together, knowing that her mom had kept her word and didn’t tell even her dad about her relationship with Rafe.
Isla tries to ignore the rapid beating of her heart, expression going flat to keep the hurt out of her face, her voice. “Rafe and I are dating. Kie and the others disapprove,” she tells her dad flatly. She sees the flash of surprise on her dad’ face before looking back at Kie. “And I don’t care.”
Kie scoffs, eyes flashing as she shakes her head and cuts their gazes. “Yeah, that much is obvious,” she says.
Isla knows she’s getting nowhere with this. There’s no reasoning with Kie when she gets like this, stubborn as an ox and not willing to hear anything else. The tension in the kitchen is heavy, suffocating, and Isla’s appetite disappears in the wake of this useless, aching conversation.
“I’m gonna get ready for work,” she says to no one in particular, turning around.
“You haven’t had your breakfast yet, Isla,” her dad says.
“I’m not hungry,” Isla responds before going up the stairs.
She gets to her room, shuts the door, and cries. Out of anger or sadness, she’s not sure.
Maybe both.
*****
Isla’s shift at work goes by slowly and tortuously. After what happened in the kitchen, Anna gave Isla and Kie sections of the restaurant far away from each other’s, which might be in vain given the restaurant isn’t that big. But Kie is given the outdoor area while Isla’s section is closer to the front of the restaurant. She and her sister kept their distance, doing their job and doing an even better job of ignoring each other. Isla knows their dad is a little frustrated with them, but Anna keeps him from interfering, which Isla is grateful for. The last thing they need is for this situation to get uglier.
Throughout her shift, Isla has done her damndest not to think of Kie’s words from this morning. Desperate. Pathetic. God, Isla knows it’s not true. She knows that Kie’s angry and upset and feels betrayed by Isla’s relationship, but Isla hates that that’s how her sister views her. By Kie’s own standards, if Isla could have dated anyone in Kildare, then there’s a reason why Isla chose Rafe, and she wishes that Kie and the others could fucking understand that.
There’s been an ache in Isla’s chest since yesterday, one she can’t get rid of. A deep, aching hole that isn’t going away, even after she talked to Rafe yesterday. She knows he’s trying to help—that he wants to help—but she’s not sure how he can. Maybe if he talked to her friends, sure. But if they haven’t listened to her, why would they listen to him? And Isla doesn’t want him to feel useless, like he can’t. The last thing she wants is for him to feel helpless in helping her. It’s not his fault and she doesn’t want him thinking otherwise.
As if conjuring him from her thoughts, Isla glances towards the door as soon as it opens, and despite the heaviness in her chest, she smiles as he enters, her first real one since this morning. Their eyes meet immediately when he takes off his sunglasses, hanging them from the neck of his shirt as he grins at her.
“Hey, baby,” he greets in that familiar way that makes her heart flutter.
“Hi, honey,” she returns, laughing when his grin widens as she runs a customer’s credit card through the reader. “Give me a sec.”
Rafe nods, standing on the opposite side of the counter towards the end. “Take your time,” he says.
Isla quickly rings the customer up, grabbing the two copies of the receipt and clipping them to the credit card before walking around and heading to their table. “Thanks, y’all,” she smiles at the familiar faces as she places the card and receipts on the table. She takes a quick glance around at her section, noting that no one needs immediate attending to, and heads back around the counter and moves to the end towards Rafe. “What can I get for you, Mr. Cameron?” she asks with a grin, bracing her hands on the counter as she flicks her eyebrows up at him.
He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Uh—” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the counter top.
“Don’t say nothing,” Isla warns him, pointing a finger. “It’s lunch time. Eat lunch.”
Rafe chuckles and, gosh, is he blushing? Isla falls for him a little more just then. “BLT and a Coke? Please?”
“Coming right up. You want a table?” she asks, nodding towards one of the empty tables in her section. But there’s also plenty of space at the end of the counter, and he wouldn’t be anyone’s way when Isla or another employee needs to move past. “Or you wanna sit here?” she adds, jerking her chin towards the spot.
Rafe follows her gaze before arching an eyebrow at her. “Can I?”
“Mhm,” Isla hums with a smile, dragging the stool out from the space under the counter and placing it at the end. She grins at Rafe as she tops the vinyl top of the stool and when he sits, she smiles at him. The stool is kind of high, and he’s already tall as hell, so they’re at eye level when they sit. “Let me put your order in.”
She finds her dad in the back and she leans into the kitchen, asking, “Hey, Dad. Can I get a BLT for Rafe, please?”
“He’s here?” he asks with an arched brow, even as he’s already reaching for the ingredients to make the sandwich. “Is that a good idea with Kie out there, too?”
Isla tenses slightly as she rolls her eyes, though she takes a step further into the kitchen. “I don’t care what she thinks.”
Her dad huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I got that this morning. One BLT coming right up.”
Isla comes back out to the front, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of Coke. “You came at a good time,” she says to Rafe, putting the can and a straw in front of him. “You just missed the lunch rush.”
“I did that on purpose,” he says with a small grin, folding his arms on the counter and tilting his chin at her. His smile turns knowing. “Didn’t wanna distract you when it was busy.”
Isla laughs, feeling a bit lighter as her own arms fold on the counter and she leans forward. “You’re so considerate,” she muses, moving towards her.
He meets her halfway and her eyes flutter shut in response to the quick kiss they exchange, feeling any lingering tension melt away from her body at the first touch of his lips against hers. The kiss is brief but sweet and gentle, even as Isla feels the thrill of being able to kiss him publicly. The secret and sneaking around was fun on its own, but this brings a new kind of giddiness that Isla isn’t used to.
She pulls away with a quiet sigh, not quite wanting to open her eyes just yet as she feels his forehead against hers. But the hair at the back of Isla’s neck stand when she feels a prickle of awareness, like someone is watching her. And when she pulls back and opens her eyes, she glances over to see Kie glaring at them as she fills up some glasses from the soda machine on the opposite side of the restaurant. Isla’s jaw clenches at the look of contempt on Kie’s face, appearing as though she’s grossed out by the sight of Isla and Rafe as she scoffs and turns away with a shake of her head.
Isla looks away from her, catching Rafe frowning at Kie before his gaze slides back to Isla. “Did you guys talk more?” he asks, unfolding one arm enough to cover her hand with his.
Desperate. Pathetic. Kie’s earlier words make Isla’s throat lock up as she drops her gaze down to her and Rafe’s hands. His larger one covering hers, the gold family ring on his pinky gleaming under the light. “Kind of,” Isla answers in a mumble. When Rafe arches an eyebrow questioningly, Isla shakes her head with a half smile, gaze casting downwards again. “Nothing worth repeating was said.”
“Hey.” His free hand reaches towards her, fingers lightly grasping her chin to lift her head until their gazes meet. Isla sees the concern swimming in his blue eyes, making her chest tighten as she feels his thumb lightly brush across her chin. “You need me, for anything, you let me know, okay? Don’t carry this on your own. This is about both of us so just—” Rafe lets out a breath, a kind of desperation flashing across his face. “Just lean on me, okay? Please.”
Isla’s throat works when she hears the plea in his voice as it heavies his words. And while part of Isla wants to keep it to herself, to not burden Rafe with what’s been said so far, she also knows it’s not fair to him to keep him in the dark. She’s hurting, and she knows Rafe wants to know because this concerns both of them, in the grand scheme of things.
“I will,” Isla promises with a nod. “Later, though, okay?”
Rafe nods just as Isla hears her dad call out, “Isla, your BLT.”
She pulls away from Rafe, grabbing the plate of food and thanking her dad before placing it in front of Rafe. “Bon appetit. I’ll be right back,” Isla says, squeezing his shoulder as she moves past him to attend to some tables.
She brings water to one table and begins taking the orders for another, and Isla can feel someone’s gaze on her—a weight she recognizes intimately. The smile tugs on the corner of Isla’s mouth before she even looks up and when she does, she sees Rafe watching her with a small smile as he reaches for his drink. Isla’s heart flutters just because of his stare, flicking her eyebrows up playfully and making his smile widen before she focuses her attention back on the customers.
She keeps busy for the next ten minutes or so, avoiding eye contact with Kie whenever her sister comes inside because Isla doesn’t want to see the faces her sister makes whenever she looks towards Rafe. Kie may not like having him here, but every time Isla glances over and looks at him, she can’t help but smile, loving the sight of him there.
By the time Isla gets back around the counter, Rafe is finishing off his lunch. “You’re closing, right?” he asks as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.
“Yup,” Isla answers with a sigh, leaning with one hand against the counter top and the other resting on her jutted out hip. She widens her eyes at Rafe, lips pursing before she adds sarcastically, “Should be a blast.”
She meaningfully nods her head towards the outdoor eating area, and Rafe presses his lips together. “Kie’s closing, too?” he asks and Isla nods, her stomach twisting. Rafe frowns, his gaze looking her over as though he can see her inner turmoil. “You’ll be okay?”
Isla scoffs. “I’ll survive,” she says with a shrug, glancing at the time on her Apple Watch. “You gotta head back?”
“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, standing up and pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. “Can I get the bill?”
Isla makes a face, standing straight as she crosses her arms. Rafe stares at her, confused, as Isla lets out a scoff. “It’s on the house, honey.” He’s always paying for her food, buying her things; this is the least she could do.
Rafe’s expression falls flat with a dip of his chin. “No, let me—”
Isla cuts him off by stepping closer to him, their fronts pressing together. She tilts her head up at him as he arches an eyebrow down at her, mirth flickering in those blue eyes as Isla grins with a hand pressed to his chest. “You can pay right here,” she tells him, bringing her free hand up to tap her lips with a finger.
His lips purse in amusement, a subtle tilt of his strong chin as Isla wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to stifle her laugh. “You’re somethin’ else,” he murmurs before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, his hand resting on her hip.
Isla smiles against his lips, stomach fluttering when he hums into the kiss. “You love it,” she mumbles in response, making him chuckle lowly.
They break the kiss all too soon. “Very true,” he says with a wink. “Text me later, yeah? If you’re not tired, we could do something.”
Isla nods, biting her smiling bottom lip as he steps away. “I will,” she says.
He leaves after saying goodbye, and Isla lets out a long breath before getting back to work. The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, serving familiar faces and then some. She and Kie manage to avoid each other for the remainder of their shift, awkward and tense but in stilted quiet. But Isla should have known that once the last of the customers leave and the doors are locked to the public, it would only be a matter of time until things came to a head once again.
Except it all started by an innocent comment from Isla’s mom. “It was nice to see Rafe,” she says to Isla as she counts the money in one of the registers, while Isla counts the other. When Isla glances up, she knows for a fact sees Kie tense up from where she’s cleaning one of the other tables. “I hope you didn’t make him pay for lunch.”
Isla snorts into a laugh, mentally counting the money as she sorts through the bills. “Of course, I didn’t. I mean, he tried to, but I told him no.”
Anna chuckles, but it’s Kie who scoffs from where she stands. “Yeah, sure, don’t let the filthy rich guy pay for his lunch. It’s how the rich stay rich, you know,” she says, throwing a reproachful look at Isla over her shoulder. “Keep giving them shit for free. It’s only a matter of time until they take advantage of you.”
Isla knows she shouldn’t engage, that Kie is only trying to provoke her. But she’s also sick of all the nasty glares Kie had been sending Rafe during the forty minutes or so he was here, as well as growing sick of the harsh words she keeps spewing without a care. “Can you stop talking like you know him?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. She’s definitely lost where she was counting but she can’t bring herself to care right now.
“I do know him,” Kie snaps as she fully turns around, features pulled tightly into a glare. “He’s the guy that used to happily get into fights with our friends, remember? He’s the one who gave Pope a black eye and knocked John B off his bike at the last Enduro and got JJ fired from that mechanic job last year—”
“JJ keyed his car, Kie, or are you forgetting that part since you like him?” Isla cuts in, jaw working. The full story is that JJ had that job at one of the mechanic’s over on Figure Eight because the pay was better than working at an auto shop on the Cut, and Rafe had brought in his car right after that last Enduro where he and John B crashed into each other. And Isla can admit, that crash had looked purposeful on Rafe’s part, but no one got hurt—miraculously—and neither of them won that race. And so when Rafe brought his car to get fixed, JJ had done that. But not before keying his car, too. It was an impulsive, idiotic decision on JJ’s part, but that’s also not new.
“And stop making it sound like that the guys aren’t innocent, either. They love to pick fights, too,” Isla says with a lift of her chin. She narrows her eyes, pulse quickening. “You’re so damn quick to judge Rafe, but you don’t know him. People can change—”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Kie scoffs with a roll of her eyes, her tone heavy with sarcasm. From her peripheral vision, Isla can see her mom has stopped working, watching the two of them with worry. “Just ’cause he stopped shitting on us for a couple of months, he’s suddenly a brand new person. Do you seriously believe that?” she demands with her arms crossing over her chest, her expression holding nothing but judgement in the purse of her lips and arch of her eyebrow.
Isla feels like she’s losing her mind. “Yes! Because I spend time with him!” she exclaims, voice raising his frustration. “And you know me, so why the hell would I want to date anyone that I didn’t think was a good person? You think I didn’t think about how you guys would take it, how y’all would feel, when you found out about us?”
Kie’s nostrils flare, not backing down with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “Because you know, deep down, exactly the kind of person he is. You were embarrassed—”
Isla’s temper flares, chest tightening. “Don’t fucking put words in my mouth, Kiara,” she snaps, noting the way her sister’s eyes widen slightly.
Anna places a hand on Isla’s arm. “Isla—”
But Isla shrugs it off, walking around the counter until she’s standing in front of it. Kie is still a good ten feet away. “I wasn’t embarrassed to tell you about him,” Isla says, practically gritting the words out through her teeth. “I was anxious because I know you guys wouldn’t want to see the truth that people can change. You’ve all built some narrative in your head that he’s some kind of villain, when I know for a fact that he’s not. I was nervous because I know it’s hard for y’all to let shit go, and you would hold the past against him when he’s proven to me that he’s not the same person he was even a year ago.”
Isla’s chest has grown tight, her breathing a little shallow. She can hear her heart thundering in her ears, drowning out the sound of her dad’s heavy footsteps coming out of the back, no doubt watching this unfold with her mom. “But I had hoped you guys would prove me wrong and would at least hear me out, but that’s the only part I was wrong about, I guess.” She shrugs, unable to fake nonchalance as she clenches her jaw. Kie’s gaze is hard and Isla isn’t sure if she’s putting on a mask or what. She’s too damn tired to even try and figure it out. “You, though,” Isla shakes her head with a hollow laugh, the corner of her mouth curved up in a sardonic smile. “You really surprised me, Kie. I thought at least my own sister would try and defend me. But you just joined the rest of them. Didn’t say a damn thing against JJ when he was going at me.”
Isla swears she sees Kie’s lower lip quiver for a brief moment before her sister says, “You’re the one who chose your relationship with Rafe over your friendship with us.”
Isla’s heart cracks, but she has her response ready on her tongue. Even as tears threaten to fill her eyes. “And you chose your hatred of him over your supposed love for me.”
The blow lands, watching as Kie flinches ever so slightly and Isla doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt for uttering those words—not when she believes them, in this moment. Kie shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get to lie to us and then victimize yourself in all of this.”
Victimize myself? Isla would laugh if she wasn’t so damn hurt. “The only reason I lied was because I didn’t want to have to make a choice,” Isla fires back, eyes narrowing as she tries to keep the hurt from leaking into her voice. “Or do you not remember JJ giving me that shitty ultimatum? Or, oh wait—” Isla feigns a look of surprise, eyes widening. “Do you not care because you made the choice to stick by the guy you like instead of your sister?” Isla scoffs, pulse racing so quickly that it threatens to make her dizzy as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Pretty hypocritical of you, Kie. And real fucking hurtful.” Her voice shakes on those last four words, fingers curling into her palms. “I know you guys felt betrayed, or whatever, but did you think for a second how awful you guys made me feel with all of that shit you said?”
Silence from Kie, and Isla’s throat locks. “I didn’t think so,” she whispers.
Kiara’s lips part, but she still doesn’t say anything, seemingly at a loss for words. But the fight somehow still remains in her brown eyes, making Isla remain tense. “Okay, girls,” Anna says from behind her in a calming voice. “Let’s just take a breath, okay?”
“No, that’s not necessary,” Isla cuts in, her hard gaze fixed on Kie. To her sister, she says, “I like Rafe, a lot. And I love you guys. But you’re not being fair, and if you guys were my friends, I shouldn’t have to beg you to explain anything. You guys weren’t the only ones who didn’t like Rafe. I was right there with you, remember? But obviously shit changed—enough for me to actually date him. Did you even think of that?” When Kie doesn’t say anything, lips pressed together and jaw working to show off that conflicted expression on her face, Isla loosens a rough breath. She blinks a few times as she turns to face her parents, who are watching them with twin expressions of worry. Isla inhales shakily. “I know I’m supposed to help close, but can I just—” She shakes her head. “I need to go.”
Her mom’s expression falls, forehead creasing with worry. Her dad places a hand on Anna’s shoulder while nodding at Isla. “Go ahead, baby. We got it.”
Isla nods in gratitude, offering them a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Anna bends to grab Isla’s purse from under the counter, handing it to her, and Isla mumbles a thank you before exiting the restaurant, not sparing a glance back at Kie. Isla’s not sure if Kie’s going to get a lecture from their parents or comfort, maybe a mix of both, but she doesn’t stick around to find out.
The second she gets in her car, she starts it but doesn’t quite pull out of the lot. Instead, she grips the steering wheel and leans forward, pressing her forehead against it. A rough breath escapes her, eyes squeezing shut as she tries to calm her racing pulse down. Whatever she said, she knows needed to be said. Her sister needs to know the hurt she and the others caused to Isla, and whether or not that’s going to change their stubborn nature, Isla doesn’t know. Deep down, Isla believes that eventually things will work out, that they may even look back and laugh at all of this, but she really fucking wishes that eventually was right now.
She inhales sharply before exhaling slowly, throat working as her grip on the wheel tightens. Isla feels the tears escape with another shuddering breath, sniffling as she sits up and wipes at her cheeks. “Pull yourself together,” she mutters, flipping down the visor and sliding open the mirror to pat and wipe at the area under her eyes to get rid of any mascara that smudged. Swallowing, Isla pulls out her phone and dials the number she already knows by heart.
It rings twice before Rafe’s deep voice answers. “Hey, baby.”
Isla sighs. “Can I come over?”
#rafe cameron#obx#outer banks#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction#obx au#obx fic#obx smut#obx fluff#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fic#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron imagine#john b routledge#kiara carrera#kie carrera#jj maybank#sarah cameron#pope heyward#cleo obx
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Avenger Lane Chapter 15: Creature Fear
Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention?
Parings: Natasha x Reader
Warnings: Reader has a Penis
Previous Chapter
Natasha opened the door with a look of surprise. Someone was holding a bouquet of flowers, a present, and balloons. She couldn’t even see who it was. Until you popped your head through the balloons.
“Y/N?” She beamed laughing.
“Happy birthday Nat.” You smiled widely.
Natasha couldn’t wait for you to even step inside she jumped in your arms. Presents falling to the floor with petals falling around you. You chuckled holding her up as her legs wrapped around you. Stepping inside you shut the door, kicking the presents aside.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.” She mumbled against your neck.
“I promised you, and I didn’t want to break another promise with you. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me too of course.”
Natasha kissed you softly letting her fingers run through your hair before pulling away. “I missed you like crazy.”
“I missed you too. You wanna-“
“Yes.” She nodded, kissing you again only for you to break the kiss.
“I was gonna say open your presents, but that sounds amazing.” You chuckled walking over to the sofa, setting her down.
She blushed, nodding as she cleared her throat crossing her legs. You handed her a bouquet of carefully picked out flowers.
“Y/N, these are so beautiful. I love them, thank you.” She bites her lip, blushing a little as she studies the flowers.
You bring the present to the coffee table sitting next to her as she smells her flowers.
“You didn’t have to do all this, I just needed you.” She mumbles against your shoulder.
“It’s your birthday, Natalia, it should be celebrated.” You say softly placing a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“You’re the sweetest.” She sighs, pecking your lips.
“So why don’t you open your first couple gifts of the day.”
“First couple gifts?” She smiles, biting her lip. “Y/N you really-“
“Stopppp come on.” You say as Leho leaps on the table to see what chaos you brought.
She smirked seeing you look nervous as she opens the first gift only to find a large envelope. Natasha furrows her brows at you before opening it. She gasps as she reads the title of legal documents, and the notary of the republic’s stamp.
“You’re…. Divorced… She actually signed them?”
“She didn’t really have a choice.”
“Oh my God. Y/N how? I thought it was going to take months!?”
“Well I finally listened to you spoke to my parents. With their help and Tony’s I counter sued for everything she did to me. The couples therapist Agatha turned in her notes to the judge which also helped immensely. The Fabrays hate a bad image and caved immediately especially when they knew I could squash them like a bug.”
Natasha tackled you in a hug.
“I promised you it would happen. I promised you, Nat.”
“I know you did.” She nodded, wiping her tears as you brought her in a kiss.
“I wanna be with you.” You say softly.
“You’ve had me Y/N.” She cried, wrapping her arms around you snuggling into your side. “How… How are the kids taking this?”
“Finley doesn’t really understand but she loves you so, I know she won’t be too put off. Beth on the other hand is upset. She doesn’t understand. She probably won’t until she’s older, and that’s okay. She refuses to speak to me right now. The moment we sat her down to discuss the divorce she pushed me out, and said she never wants to see me again.”
“Baby.” Natasha cried holding your hand. “Baby she doesn’t mean it.”
“I know.” You sniffled feeling Natasha wipe your tears. “She loves her mom very much. I can't be the one to tarnish that image. When she cools down I’ll talk to her again.”
“Beth loves you Y/N so much. I know she does, you know she does. You’re right she just needs some time divorce is not easy on a 12 year old. Are they home?”
“Beth is at school and I think Quinn is at her sisters with Fin. She said she didn’t want to see me here.”
“So she knows?”
“Ohhhh yeah she knows I’m with you.” You nod.
“Is she mad? Like burn down my house mad?”
“No actually, just like she’s finally let me go. I think her seeing our old friends really helped knock some sense into her as well. Plus as much as I hate to say it Rachel is kind of helping her move on.”
“So she’s more so upset with herself and her actions?”
“That’s what I got from it in court, but I thought maybe it was a ruse. Anyway, enough about my ex wife and open your next present.”
You handed Natasha a wrapped gift. She looked up, raising her brow looking down at the Christmas themed paper and bow. “You wrapped this?”
“Of course! I’m a black belt at gift wrapping.” You grinned.
She giggled while opening the gift only to see a Fisherman’s sweater. “Ohhh I love it.” She says holding it up seeing something fall out of the sweater she frowns grabbing it before Leho can get it.
The scenic view of the East coast of Maine
“I thought since you’re taking a break right now maybe you and I can take a road trip all the way to Maine? Or we can just-“
Natasha tackles you in a hug “I love it.”
“Are you sure? Cause it’s cold and if you’d rather just go somewhere more tropical I can still change it.”
“Nope, I’ve never been upstate. I think that’s a great idea.”
“Alright I guess pack for a week and then get dressed for brunch cause Wanda is currently making you a fabulous brunch for your birthday right about now.”
“Oh my gosh!” Natasha stood up running up the stairs packing for the winter vacation.
You chuckled looking down at Leho “Don’t worry I won’t make you join us in the car ride Yelena is going to stay here and take care of you.” The black cat purred and hopped up on your lap. “Yeah I figured you weren’t the car riding type.”
You stood up making your way up the staircase leaning against Natasha’s doorway when you notice something you thought you lost.
“Is that my hoodie?” You gasped “and my jacket!? I thought I lost them!”
“No, don't look!” Natasha groaned.
“You little thief!” You chuckled.
“They smelled like you.” She smiled, holding them up to her nose.
You brought her in your arms pecking her lips. “I’ll be sure to rotate them so you always have something that smells like me then.” You lifted it to your nose, closing your eyes and smiled. “Now it smells like you.”
“So sweet.” She muttered before kissing you once more. She turned in your arms as she continued her packing.
You moved her hair to the side and left small kisses from her shoulder to her neck.
“Hmm, I missed you.” She sighed.
“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You held her from behind burying your nose in her hair.
“I think I have an idea.” Natasha’s fingers ran through your hair, her body arching into you.
Nat lifted her phone showing you a video that Mike sent her.
“Dude what are you doing?” Mike giggled using his video to see what you were looking at. “Is that Natasha?”
“Maybe.” You purse your lips coyly slightly drunk.
“Why are you looking at her picture? You weirdo.” Santana cackled.
“I miss her.” You shrugged.
“Aww!” Kurt frowns, hugging your head. “Me too!”
“Oh my God! You’re such a simp. This is your boo Natasha. Out here cryin’ in da club.”
You all started cackling before the video came to an end.
“I’m gonna kill him.” You shook your head.
“I thought it was sweet.” She smiled, turning in your arms. You widen your stance so you can be at eye level. “Don’t be embarrassed baby, I'm your woman.”
“My woman, I love the sound of that.” You grin, smooching her lip feeling her hands massage your shoulders.
“Anything else you need to show me or tell me about?” You chuckled.
“No.” She smirked looking away.
“You sure?”
“I may have also seen you guys sing Don’t Stop Believing and some of your friends dm’ed me that they’re happy for us. That’s all. Again! I thought it was sweet.” The redhead beauty smiled, pecking your lips before smacking your ass and making her way to the bathroom.
“Hm.” You grunted.
She began grabbing her toiletries in a bag she looked over seeing you laying down feet off the bed. Your arms wrapped around her pillow, eyes closed for a brief moment while she packs. She smiles looking at you she’s wanted you for so long now, and it’s finally happening.
You mentally went through the checklist again. The cooler is packed with snacks and drinks. You have the snow chains on already extra in the back just in case. Your suitcase is packed, the rest of the presents are in the back, blankets, pillows, some extra wood, alcohol and mixers, champagne, some groceries in an extra cooler, and Tony’s keys to his cabin.
You could hear her walking around quietly as she packs up her suitcase when you felt some weight on your legs.
“Okay! I’m ready!” She sang she lifted up on her knees as you flipped over.
“Hmmm okay baby.” You yawned while stretching.
Natasha straddled you and you let your hand lightly rub her thick thighs. She leaned down kissing you softly inhaling you as she broke the kiss.
“We… don’t have any extra time… do we?”
“We…” you looked at your watch. “Do not.” You sigh.
“But it’s my birthday.” She sticks her bottom lip out with a frown dry humping you. “I can be a little late.”
You groan feeling her lips suck on your sweet spot and rub against your other sweet spot.
“You and I both know we’re not gonna wanna go just one round. Besides, I don't really want our first time as a couple to be a quickie.” You chuckle, slapping her ass. “Come on birthday girl.
She whines getting off of you and you grin standing up taking her bags.
“What about Leho?” She said sadly while picking up her baby.
“Yelena is going to take care of her and the house.” You muttered the last part.
“Oh God okay just let me write out something real quick, and put the flowers in a vase.”
“Alright I’ll put these in the truck.”
Natasha wrote out a quick message asking her sister to water the plants, the new flowers you just gave her, and what times to feed Leho. She even gave her some money for food just in case.
Natasha walked out seeing a cover over your truck bed. “Since when have you had that?”
“Oh it came with it, I just never had a chance to use it.” You chuckled. “Are those your balloons?” You chuckled.
“I just got them, it's bad enough I have to leave my flowers.”
You grinned walking over taking them from her and walking over to Wanda’s. You knocked and she told you both to come in from the Stark bell. You open the door letting her through first hearing all her friends say “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“Oh my gosh you guys!” Natasha smiled seeing all of her friends.
Wanda ran over bringing her in a big hug. “Ohhh I love you, happy birthday!” She cooed.
“Happy birthday!” Pietro smiled, giving her a hug as well. “Just so you know my gift is me getting up early to help Wanda.” His older sister smacked him and Natasha laughed. “Hey what’s up Y/N.” He smiled, giving you a hug.
Wanda led you both towards the end of the table giving Natasha a tiara, her breakfast plate and a mimosa.
Breakfast went on and then the gifts began.
“This is from me and Buck. Happy birthday Nat we love you.” Steve smiled with Bucky's arm around him.
“Oh wow thank you guys!” Natasha looks down at the brand new Glock and set of bullets.
“That’s the new G29 it’s beautiful.” Steve explains.
“Oh my God.” Vis gasps lowly he hates guns. Wanda takes his hand. Natasha closes the case and thanks Steve and Bucky before you take it and safely set it aside.
“Jeez.” You hear Tony mutter as he drinks his mimosa.
“Happy birthday love.” Laura smiles with Clint grinning behind her.
It was a framed photo of Natasha and you with all the kids at the fair. Along with a little Hawaiian statue.
“Thank you Laura.” Natasha smiled showing you the picture. You smiled looking at her. “It’s sweet, I'll make sure to put it up before we leave.”
“Just make sure to keep the statue with you.” Clint cackled.
“Oh Clint.” Laura smacked him.
“What is this?”
“We got it during our trip to Hawaii. It’s a fertility statue.”
“It fucking works.” Clint raised his brows looking at the two of you.
You and Natasha chuckle a bit.
“I’m serious we were having some trouble with Nate and well that little fucker helped. So when you’re ready just make sure he’s around for the action.”
You chuckled turning red scratching the back of your neck.
“Those Hawaiians, dude they know they’re shit.” Clint punched your arm. “I know you’ve got a couple so be sure to wrap it before you tap it from now on it’s like magic.”
“Clint for the love of God.” Laura whined.
Natasha placed the frame and statue in her purse before the next guest came over. You took her hand rubbing circles on her palm.
“You okay?” You ask near her ear.
“I just need to go to the bathroom right quick.” She nods and pecks your hand.
You look at her slightly worried before looking towards Wanda. “I should-“
“Go.” She nods.
You stand and rush upstairs.
“Damn it Clint I told you not to put that in there.” Laura groaned covering her face.
“What? What’s wrong-“
“Nat, can’t have children.” She said in his ear.
“Fuck.”
You reach the master bath and knock softly. “Baby?”
The door swings open and she pulls you in a kiss.
“Whoa.” You manage to say as she hums in your mouth. “Honey?”
“I need you Y/N.” She husks. “I need you so bad and we don’t have much time.”
“Nat, I think you might not be dealing with this the right way. Just take a breather-“
“Y/N please.” She whines against your lips, her hands on your belt. “Please baby I need you so badly right now. It won’t take much. I know this isn’t what you had in mind for our first time as a couple to be in Wanda’s bathroom, but please! I need you inside of me.”
“Talia, my love please just take a second.”
“Love?” Natasha freezes.
“This wasn’t how I was going to tell you.” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“You love me?” She asks in surprise.
“So much. I’ve been wanting to say those words for a while now.” You chuckle, bringing her against you.
“I’ve longed to hear those words from you.” She whispered.
“I just wanted to wait until it was finally over. Until I had it in writing for you.”
“I know my love.” She whispers, kissing you softly.
“I hope I was worth the wait.”
“You are always worth it. I love you so much.” She smiles, laying her forehead against yours.
You pull her into a hug just as she begins to cry.
“I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me. I felt so sad and then you came up to take care of me and I’ve just never had that before-“ she started to tear up.
“It’s okay you’re allowed to feels things. Clint hit a sore spot.”
“I missed you so much Y/N.” She sniffled as you wiped away her tears.
“I missed you too, baby. I missed all of you. I missed your laugh, your smile, the way your voice gets gravely when you're sleepy or just woke up, your cooking, your kisses. Your beautiful body. The way I feel when I’m inside of you and the noises I bring out of you. I’m so in love with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. Yelena tried making me watch a ton of other shows. Wanda included. I would find myself thinking of you or if you’d call me. Or even text. I was always checking my phone.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out enough.”
“You did better after I told you. We just have to communicate better.”
“We will.” You nod.
“We should go back out there.” She says softly caressing your cheek.
“Okay.” You stand up from your crouched position and help her off the toilet seat. She fixes your hair and takes the lipstick off your face.
“Lovely.” She nods.
“Stop, you're making me blush.”
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You both come back down and no one makes a comment, they just continue on like nothing happened.
“You okay?” Wanda asks in Russian.
Natasha nods happily. “Oni skazali mne, chto lyubyat menya.” (They told me that they love me.)
“Finally!” Wanda sighed in relief.
Natasha rolled her eyes playfully.
You lean over to Tony when you notice everyone giving you the wink. “So I take it, everyone knows my plan for the cabin?”
“Yup.” Tony nods.
“Got it. So who told?”
“Who do you think?”
You scanned the table. “Scott told Louis?”
“Of course he did.” Tony huffed.
“As long as Nat doesn’t hear about it.”
“She won’t, don’t worry. You got the papers?”
“Yup showed Nat before coming over here.”
“Pepper, give you the keys?”
“Yes sir.”
“Alright.” Tony chuckled. “Don’t be nervous. You got this kid.”
You nodded with a grin before looking over at Natasha who looked down at her gift. It was an ant farm that Scott gave her.
“I said grab an Aunty Anne’s gift card because she loves they’re pretzels. Why would she want an ant farm Scott?”
“I don’t know why would she want a gift card to Aunty Anne’s?” He huffed. “Besides, ants are way cooler!”
“It’s okay, this is pretty cool, thank you.” Natasha smiled nodding she’ll just give it to Finley.
“Hey Scott.” You smiled right before nut punching him.
“Oh fuck.” Scott gasped nearly toppling to the floor.
“Y/N?!” Natasha scolded you.
“It’s just this game we play at work. Right Scotty? This game about not telling Louis certain things.”
“Yup.” He smiled through the pain waving Natasha off. Steve and Bucky cringed.
“Kind of what he gets; what a big mouth.” Bucky muttered.
“I fucking told you not to tell Louis.” Hope whispered harshly.
“I know.” He gasped as she helped him over to his chair.
“I’ll get you some ice.” Vis nods standing up.
“Thank you.” Scott groaned.
Natasha glared at you once more and you shrugged it off. “He lost the game. I don't know what to tell ya.”
“That was hilarious.” Clint chuckled while getting another mimosa as Thor fell out of his chair laughing.
“You know you deserved that shit right?.” Val snickered looking at Scott.
“Come on babe get up.” Jane said to Thor who had tears in his eyes from laughter.
“Happy birthday Natasha!” They said together, handing her a tiny gift bag. Thor was still snickering to himself.
“Oh thank you so much!” It was a gift card to Lululemon.
Soon Val and Carol were up.
“I would say happy birthday but I think this one is a little more for my mate Y/N over here.” Val snickered, winking at you and Carol rolled her eyes.
Natasha ripped open the paper and the white box to find a set of sexy lingerie. The redhead opted out of showing everyone and kept it in the box she didn’t even show you instead she thanked them with a hint of blush on her cheeks. Carol leaned down and whispered in her ear. You wondered what it was because her eyes widened and Carol giggled before taking Val’s hand and taking their seats.
“You alright?” You asked.
“Hmhm.” She nodded, taking a gulp of her drink.
“For Pepper and Tony’s gift they’re letting us stay in their Cabin.”
“Oh thank you.” Natasha said towards Pepper and Tony.
“Of course but we also got you this.” Pepper handed Natasha a bottle of wine. “It’s one of my all time favorites. I think you’ll like it.”
“It also gets her going if you know what I mean.” Tony mutters lowly toward you.
You chuckled while taking a sip of your drink.
Soon it’s nearly 2 pm and now you’re way off schedule.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Wanda says softly as you help her clean up.
“Do not apologize Wands. It’s okay, seriously we can make a pit stop at a hotel. It's not that bad plus I wanted us to take our time getting up to Maine.”
“Still you had the whole day planned.” She said sadly.
“The plan can still go on tomorrow.” You smile.
“Okay I am ready.” Natasha smiled lazily, still a bit buzzed from all the mimosas.
“Go on. I’ve got it from here.”
You grab the presents and Natasha insists on giving the ant farm to Finley so you leave it on the front door with a note and leave the framed photo of the fair in Nat’s home before she says farewell to Yelena.
“Happy birthday Cestra.” She smiles at her drunk sister then at you before handing her a little gift.
“What’s this?” Natasha frowns seeing a check.
“I wanna help pay you back for the clock tower.”
“Lena-“
“No buts plus I figured maybe it’ll help bring our parents back from Russian? I know you had to use that money to send me to school and bring me here and fix the tower so… yeah.”
“Aww.” Natasha cried, bringing Yelena in a hug. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now go.” Yelena wipes her eyes smiling at you. “Take care of my sister. She’s precious cargo.”
“With my life.” You smile helping Natasha walk to the truck. “You wanna lay down in the back? I can make a bed.”
“Not unless you’re gonna lay down with me.” Natasha mumbles hopping in the truck.
You chuckle before shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. You both wave to Yelena before driving away.
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When you’re finally out of New York Natasha notices how beautiful the mountains look.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“It is really cold, but smell the air.” You slow down a bit and roll down the window.
She breathes the air in smiling as she closes her eyes. “Wow, it smells so good!” .
You slow down pulling over seeing a maple candy stand.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a maple candy stand. I’m gonna get you some wanna stay in the truck?”
“No!” She hops out and watches you buy some candy as she picks up a red leaf and breathes in the mountain air.
Along the road she asks if you can stop at certain places and of course you oblige by getting her little trinkets and taking random photos.
You both eat snacks from the cooler and sing along to every song she wants to hear occasionally listening to a podcast. You finally stop when it gets too dark somewhere in Vermont. You stop by a diner.
“This place is so cute.” Natasha smiles seeing how retro everything looks.
“Well hello sweethearts my name is Eve what can I getcha?” An older woman walks up with a big smile.
“We will take the lovers lane.” Natasha orders off the menu.
“Okay! I haven’t seen yall out here before where ya from?”
“New York, it’s her birthday we figured we make a road trip out of it and go up state.”
“Oh well that’s fun, welcome to town! I’ll tell ya what I’ll bring you a slice of pie on the house!”
“Thank you Eve!” Natasha smiled.
You dug into your pockets looking for change.
“What are you doing?” Natasha smirked.
“I’m looking for quarters.” You grinned nodding towards the mini jukebox.
The redhead grabbed her purse taking out .50cents. “Here.”
“You pick it’s the fun part.” You grinned, pushing her hand away.
Natasha smiled and put the change in before choosing an oldie.
“Great choice.” You grinned hearing the doo-wop in the beginning.
“My love must be a kind of blind love. I can’t see anyone but you.” She smiled lovingly at you as you blushed.
‘(Sha bop sha bop)
(Sha bop sha bop)’
“Dance with me?”
‘(Sha bop sha bop)
(Sha bop sha bop)’
“Here?”
‘(Sha bop sha bop)’
“Right here.” You stand up offering your hand which she happily accepts.
‘Are the stars out tonight (sha bop sha bop)’
You bring her close swaying in the diner.
‘I don't know if it's cloudy or bright (sha bop sha bop)
I only have eyes for you dear’
“I love you.” Natasha says softly caressing your cheek.
(Sha bop sha bop)
“I love you too.” You say looking down into her eyes.
‘The moon may be high
(Sha bop sha bop)’
There’s only one other patron in the diner and they can’t help but smile seeing the two of you dancing.
‘But I can't see (sha bop sha bop) a thing in the sky
I only have eyes for you’
“Eve, put their dinner on my tab.” The patron smiled.
‘I don't know if we're in a garden
Or on a crowded avenue
(Sha bop sha bop)’
“They do look so in love don’t they?” Eve smiled watching you and Natasha sway to the music.
‘You are here
(Sha bop sha bop)’
“I don’t ever wanna stop this train with you.” She whispers.
‘And so am I
(Sha bop sha bop)’
“I don’t ever plan on stoppin’.” You lean down pecking her lips gently.
‘Maybe millions of people (sha bop sha bop) go by
But they all disappear from view
And I only have eyes for you’
You both take your seats just as the food came out.
“This looks amazing.” You grin.
“Here baby you pick the next song while we eat.” Natasha hands you a couple quarters.
“Welllllllll…You know you make me wanna shout! Kick my heels up and shout!”
“So good.” You both said as you ate your burgers. “Might have to come back just for this.”
“I know!” She chuckled.
You both ate and laughed as you spoke about your days apart.
“What made you wanna do this?” She asked, drinking her milk shake.
“Well we were hungry-“
“I meant this trip. Smartass.” Natasha smirked.
“I just felt like we’ve been apart for a long time and wanted to make up for it.” You explain with a light shrug.
Just as Eve promised, a slice of Pie arrived and you both somehow managed to eat every piece of it.
“Thank you so much Eve, this dinner was so good we might just have to make the trek back out just for your food.” Natasha smiled.
“Please do!” Eve laughed.
“Where do I pay Ms. Eve.”
“Actually the gentleman that was in here paid for your meal. He just said he was heartwarmed to see how in love you both are. Made him remember his wife.”
“Oh well now I feel terrible for not being able to thank him.” You pout.
“Don’t be he just wanted to do something nice for you both.”
“Well please tell him we said thank you.” Natasha smiled warmly.
“Of course!” Eve smiled picking up the plates that you stacked at the end of the table.
You left a hefty tip before getting back in the truck and heading towards the hotel.
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“Oh no I’m so sorry I thought we had two beds when we spoke on the phone but it turns out that room is being remodeled. We only have one room left with one king bed.” The front desk girl frowned.
“Oh just the one huh?” You clear your throat, shuffling your feet. You knew if you took that room keeping your hands to yourself would seem difficult.
“You’re absolutely sure there’s only one left.” You ask once more.
The front desk girl sighed and said. “If you don’t want the room-“
“We’ll take it.” Natasha huffed, rolling her eyes at you. “Y/N, if you don’t want to share a bed with me-“
“I’m sorry it’s not that at all, not even a little bit you know that.” You bite your lip seeing her nod at you. Natasha took the key. “It’s just- I don’t want you to think just cause I did all this means you have to put out. That’s all. I just want you to be comfortable.”
Natasha smiles softly and pecks your lips. “You’re sweet, and I’m making you start to overthink things because of how I’ve been acting and I’m sorry.”
“Nat, no apologizing. This is new for us… I’ve never been with another woman besides Quinn, and you’ve never been with someone like me. We just need to get in the groove again… I’m gonna park the truck you go on ahead and I’ll bring up our things.”
She nodded before walking off. Natasha kept telling herself to stop over thinking as well you both fell for one another as friends. The only things that’s changed is now there’s nothing holding you both back. You’re both free to be together.
You tiredly made your way to the room. Walking in only to hear the shower running. You quickly change when you hear the water stop. She walks out right as you switch shirts.
Natasha gulped, gripping the door handle.
“Hey.” You smile trying not to blush at the fact that she’s only in a towel.
“Hi.” She smiles a tint of blush across her dewy cheeks. “I forgot you were bringing up the suitcases and got ahead of myself. Can I borrow something to sleep in?”
“I got you.” You grinned getting off the bed. You rummaged through your suitcase finding an extra set of boxers and an old football t-shirt. You walked them over handing them to her.
“Thanks.” She whispers, looking at you.
“Oh! Sorry.” You chuckled turning around.
She smiled as you turned towards the wall. That’s not why she was staring. She was staring because all she had on was a towel and all she wanted to do was drop it. Just to have you worship her body, but she can tell you’re exhausted. Mentally and physically you just need to rest. Natasha knows damn well if she ignites that fire in you it won’t be put out until it’s time for you both to leave the hotel. She shook her thoughts before dropping the towel not missing the way it made you squirm.
She inhaled the fresh scent of your boxers and t-shirt.
“Don’t worry I just washed them before we left.” You chuckled, rubbing your neck. Desperately trying not to look at her through the small reflection on the lamp.
“I’d hope so.” She teased you. “You can turn around now.” She let the shirt fall on her just as you turned around. You gulped seeing the bottom of her breasts and the small freckle on her rib cage.
She climbs into bed laying next to you when she turns on her side. “Thank you for today. Best birthday ever.” She smiled dreamily before leaning over kissing your cheek softly.
“Yeah?” You goofily grin before yawning. You could already feel your exhaustion take over your body as your girl played with your hair.
“Hmhm, you got your divorce, gave me breakfast with all my friends at Wanda’s. You told me you love me. Then we spent the day driving through the mountains. It’s been amazing.” She giggled. “I’ve never had anyone do anything like this for me before, thank you Detka.”
“I didn’t even get to give you the rest of your presents.” You said sleepily trying to sit up only for her to stop you.
“You can give them to me when we’re at the cabin.”
“You sure?” You asked halfway asleep.
“Yes.” She smiles. “Don’t worry about them right now. Everything is perfect today was perfect. You’re perfect.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I love you Talia.” You closed your eyes snuggling into your pillow feeling the way her nails grazed your skin and hair as you drifted off to sleep.
“I love you too baby.”
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You wake to the sound of your phone alarm clicking on. The soft strums of Creature Fear by Bon Iver in the air. You hum out feeling warmth against your chest and feeling the sun shine on your face. Slightly upset that you forgot to close the curtain, but the view of the mountains is just too beautiful to stay cranky. You start to realize you’re spooning Natasha and your cock is rock hard as it always is first thing in the morning. Your cock was throbbing feeling the heat from Natasha’s body.
You slowly lift your head looking down at your entwined legs. You briefly wonder how and when this happened throughout the night. Then you wonder if you can untangle yourself without waking her so you can shower. You look down at your arms. One is under her and the pillow with half her hand in yours and the other arm was wrapped around her with her arm laid over yours and fingers threaded through yours. You tangled yourselves throughout the night.
Her head turned slowly, her eyes wide open. She must have been awake for some time. It’s silent and you’re just admiring her underneath the morning sun. She was breathtaking. You felt like you forgot how to breathe just by looking into her eyes. Natasha was the first to wiggle her fingers bringing your attention to your hands. You stretched your fingers locking them in with hers before looking back into her emerald eyes. She looked down at your covered cock poking her right where she wanted it. You felt the air leave your lungs when she pushed her ass against your throbbing cock.
The moment her hooded eyes looked from your hardened member to you. Almost in an instant you forgot about everything and all you saw and all you wanted was her. Like a silent agreement you both threw caution to the wind. Letting your lips meet in a passionate kiss. Breathing one another in deeply before your hands let go of hers. You needed to feel her everywhere. You cupped her face inhaling her before letting one hand roam down her back towards her ass and the other threaded through her soft auburn hair.
She moaned, feeling you squeeze her ass. Her hands were hooked under your arms. Fingernails grazing your back. You stopped for a second letting her take off your shirt. You moaned, feeling her lips against your chest. Kissing somehow tenderly and with haste. You briefly stop her so you can take her shirt off her immaculate body.
“What?” she giggled seeing your jaw slack.
“You’re so incredibly beautiful, but you know I know you’re so much more than that… right?”
She smiled softly, caressing your cheek. “I know.” She pushed you back getting off the bed before turning towards you. You moved to the edge letting your feet hit the cold carpet of the hotel. You hook your arms around her waist looking up at her as your fingers toe the edge of waistline. The Russian woman bit her lip nodding as you pushed the boxer shorts down.
You lay your head against her abdomen, softly kissing her as you inhale her sweet scent. Before your lips could kiss any further down she stopped you.
“Your turn.” She smirked her nails scraping against your shoulders.
You were brought back to your throbbing dick you grimaced standing up.
“You’ve been hard for over an hour now. I’m assuming you’re in pain?” Her brow kinked.
“Just sensitive.” You hissed, letting it flop out of the hole of your boxers. “You’ve been up for an hour now?”
She licked her lips staring at your long thick bulging cock. She sat you down kissing you gently before getting on her knees. “Yes and you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”
“You don’t have-“ you cleared your throat.
“I want to… don’t you want my mouth?” She husked; hand now holding your meat.
“God yes.” You whined caressing her jaw.
She smirked before focusing on your shaft. She let her lips kiss the head before letting her tongue swirl around causing you to twitch and shudder. You let one hand hold her hair, just as she brought all of you in her mouth, her tongue and mouth sucking you like it’s the last time she’ll have you. Her hands leave your cock and lay against your flexing abs; her nails grazing down. “Oh my G-“ you inhale.
“Fuck.” You sighed watching her bobb, her head eyes fixed on yours. “Deeper.” You whispered, you could feel her tonsils on your cock as she obeyed. Her hands on your thighs before letting you go with a pop, and moving down to your balls.
“Natasha.” You husked feeling your toes curl. You gently stopped her before pulling her on your lap quickly switching positions to lay her down. You watched as she lifted her body up by her elbows as you got on your knees gently spreading her legs apart. You smirked before letting your tongue dive into her.
“Ohhh” she whimpered and moaned.
“Fuck me, you’re drenched.” You let two of your fingers dip in before showing her the wetness. “So sexy.” You whispered before putting her wetness on your cock and pumping the throbbing shaft. As you pumped you dove back in moaning at her taste. “You taste so good, Talia.”
“Shit Y/N I’m already so close.” She whined.
You quickened your tongue's pace and let go of your throbbing member to let a couple digits enter her. Her hips bucked as you moved your fingers. You listened to her as if breaking open a safe. Listening for any indication of her spot.
A loud guttural moan came when you did. You smirked going faster as her moans grew louder and her body unable to lay still. She gripped your hand and head before humping into your face, shaking as she came undone.
You stood wiping your mouth before sucking on your fingers. She closed her thighs at the sight needing some friction.
She sat up and gasped at the soaked edge of the bed. You smiled before lifting her up onto you kissing her with want.
“Hmm.” She moaned in the kiss before opening her eyes looking down at you. She reached below her, taking you in her hand guiding you to the place you both have been aching for.
“Oh my God.” You sighed laying your forehead against hers. Feeling the tip of your member enter her.
You both moaned as she slid down your shaft.
“Fuck.” You felt your grip loosen before lifting her back up moaning at the movement. You froze seeing her grimace.
“What’s wrong, should I stop?” You asked, worried you hurt her.
She kissed your worries away wiping your brow lines
“You’re just… really big… I’m just adjusting.” She blushed. You pulled out causing her to whimper.
“Standing up needs some work. Okay.” You make a note of it as you gently lay her down before following suit. She spread her legs for you to lay between. She moaned at the touch of your tongue against her lips.
“I need you inside me baby.” She husked in your ear, breaking the kiss.
You both looked down as you took your cock rubbing it between her folds. Gathering all the wetness before slowly entering her.
“Sooooo tight.” You whispered, feeling her velvet walls clamping down around you. You stayed still letting her adjust to your girth and length and enjoying the way her warmth feels. “Gah damn I will never get tired of you baby!” You smiled leaning down to kiss her.
“I’m gonna have to remember pelvic floor exercises.” She giggled as she brushed your hair back.
“I’m madly in love with you.” You smiled Natasha brought you down kissing you as she whimpered as her hips bucked into you giving you the go ahead. You slowly pumped in and out.
“Oh my God!” She moaned out as your lips left hers to nibble on her sweet spot.
“That’s it baby you’re doing so well.” You groaned out as you continued your rhythm as she whimpered beneath you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you paused your motions pushing in deeper.
“Oooh that feels so good Y/N.” Natasha wiggling her pelvis against you.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been this deep inside of you like this.” You groaned, placing a hand on the headboard driving your pace faster.
“I know baby I don't even think I can hold on for much longer.” She gasps, clawing at your back bringing you down against her. “God I love you so much!”
You’re both moaning as you move together. Your teeth clashing in your kisses. You’re both breathing one another in as you cum around one another.
“Fuck baby.” She gasps. “Oh daddddy.”
“Oh Natasha! Fuuuck!” You groan, spilling your seed deep inside of her. “Ohhh yeah look at that baby.” You say lathering your thick honey along her glistening pussy.
You both pant when the phone rings it’s time to check out and your alarm with Bon Iver starts over again after its snooze.
“How long do we have?” She asks, kissing your back.
“A couple hours.”
“Then come back to me.” She smirks.
You grin, rubbing her arm around your chest that begins to make its way to your meat.
“Hmm.” You groan feeling her pumping you as she nibbles your ear. “The faster we’re out of here the faster I can have you in that cabin, and really take my time with you.”
“How long is the drive?” She asks, kissing your shoulders.
“About 4 more hours.” You cringed, seeing her look at you with her brows furrowed.
“Yeah no you’re making love to me one more time. Really Y/N 4 hours?!”
“I’m sorry.” You say feeling her pull you to the shower. You shove your underwear down before stepping in.
“Multitasking at its finest baby.” She smirked, kissing you as the warm water fell over you.
“Hmm, I hope you know the moment we step foot in that cabin and I’ve got all our shit inside-“
“What? The pussy monster is coming out?”
“Who?” You furrowed your brows and she giggled kissing you under the water.
“Well I hope the pussy monster does come out.” She mutters against your lips, feeling you smirk and your cock stand at attention.
You lift her up and against the wall and you slide in.
“Who says the pussy monster isn’t here right now?” You say in a voice so gravely and low that makes her drip around your thick cock. You choke her as you begin to roughly hump inside of her sliding her ups down against the cold tile wall.
“Ohhhh fuckkkkk!” She moans, hooking her hands behind your neck.
“That’s it baby girl.” You say.
“Fuuuuuckkk!” She whines feeling you hit her center.
“You like that, my naughty girl?”
“So much!” She gasps.
“You love it when the pussy monster comes out.”
“So much daddy so much.”
“You’re my cum slut aren’t you? You like it when I cum deep inside of you.” You roughly grab her jaw.
“Oh my gosh yesss so much I love the way it feels, and the way you lather it all over my pussy when I cum on your cock daddy.”
“Me too baby.”
“I also love it when you cum on my tongue you taste so good.”
“Fuck.” You groan, feeling yourself cuming.
“Oh my gosh baby you feel so good inside me.” She cries as pivot your hips letting her walls clamp around you and juicing your cock.
“Shit Talia.” You both look down seeing you pull out and your creams landing on your cock on for you to lather it on her pussy and push inside of her once more. “Give me another baby girl. I’m still so hard for you.” You say lowly near her ear.
“Fuck.” She whimpers and nods before tapping you to let her down. You gently set her down and watch her spin around against the tile. You take hold of her hips and begin watching your cock disappear over and over again.
“Your ass is so fucking amazing. This pussy is velvet baby don’t get me wrong but when can this monster cock try that little ass hole?” You husk near her ear.
“When you let me try your little ass hole.” She smirks looking back at you before handing you the soap bar and a scrub.
“Touché.” You stroke inside of her as you sud her body up. It feels even better when you bring your bodies together. “Fuck I’m close!” You growl near her ear.
“Cum then daddy.” She bites your lip and your fucking her so hard and fast your skin is slapping against one another echoing in the shower. You wrap your arms around her, and lift her up causing her to yelp as you cum inside of her. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!” You groan emptying your load before setting her back down. You pull out and push back in letting her cum around you and gently letting her ride out her orgasm.
“Shit.” You pant feeling your cock slip out and watching your creams go down the drain.
She smiles, hooking her arm around you, kissing you languishly.
“How’d we get in here?” You asked, looking around causing her to giggle and kiss you once more.
“Shut up and wash my hair.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you. Yesterday, what did Carol whisper in your ear?”
Natasha turned smirking up at you as you washed her hair.
“Well first she said she and Val came over one day and heard us going at it. She also mentioned that I need to really work my hips.”
“They saw us?”
“Hmhm.”
“I really need to learn how to close the fucking blinds.”
A/N: still cutting up chapters in parts because of how long they are.
Don’t forget to Reblog, comment, and like 🥰
#natasha romanoff x reader#avenger lane#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#avengers lane#natasha romanoff x top reader#natasha x top reader
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Getting Back into the Swing of Things (1) — The 15 Year Problem Series
Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)
Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.
Chapter Word Count: 2.2k
Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years) & Minor controlling behavior
Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Don't worry, as Dean and reader meet in the next chapter! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆
⇠ Go Back & Read the Prologue
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Dean tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite what seemed like hours trying. He smelled blood in his nose, felt it on his lips and tongue; smiling with pure bliss. He could feel his hand gripping the First Blade, and he could hear the heart beats of people fading fast as he looked into their eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself.
Removing the covers from himself, he swung his body, his feet flat on the floor as he rubbed his face. Letting out a huge sigh of frustration, he got up from his bed and made his way to his bedroom door; deciding that maybe a few drinks could make him get a bit sleepy. But he knew deep down that wasn’t going to work — he just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.
As Dean started making his way toward the kitchen, he noticed that Sammy’s door was open halfway, the light of the room still on. A puzzled look appeared on Dean’s face, surprised that Sam was still up. He figured after curing him, he would be knocked out for the next couple of days, or at least taking it easy.
He heard drawers opening and closing, not remotely quietly. Standing in the doorway, he saw Sam packing some clothes into a duffel bag, slightly struggling as he did so, as he was down an arm. “Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked, after knocking on the doorway.
Sam looked up, barely smiling. He looked almost half asleep. “Uh yeah. A hunter friend of mine asked me to help her with a poltergeist case. Should be only a few days.”
“A poltergeist case uh?” Dean questioned, intrigued. “Where at?” He scratched the back of his head as he walked into Sam’s bedroom, trying his best not to sound too excited about the case.
“Tulsa. It’s about a five and a half hour drive from here, and I promised Y/N I’d meet her at the motel in town,” Sam said, zippering up his duffel.
“You sure you’re good to go Sammy? I mean, your arm is still broken,” Dean said, pointing at his arm. “Why don’t I go instead? I could use a nice and easy case to get my sea legs back.”
Sam looked at his brother with a bit of hesitancy. “I don’t know Dean…” his voice trailed off. Even though Sam had talked to you about Dean, he wasn’t sure how you would react to Dean showing up instead of him. Based on the short amount of time he had known you, he feels that you and Dean would get along really well as your hunting styles were scarily similar at times, and your personalities rivaled each other. But yet, you didn’t know Dean, and he knew you’d rather hunt alone than hunt with someone you didn’t know.
“Sammy, your arm is broken. No offense, but how much help are you really going to be to her? She might as well just do it by herself,” Dean said, and Sam knew that his brother had a point. He was right, as much as he hated to admit it.
Sam sighed, almost defeated. “Alright, alright. You’re…you’re right,” he said, slightly swinging his casted arm. “Just let me give her a heads up first okay?”
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You looked out straight in front of you as only darkness could be seen for miles and miles. Your hands had a tight grip on the wheel to the point that your knuckles were almost pale and white. The loudness of your windshield wipers drowned out what you were currently listening to — The Clash.
There was no traffic, no cars— just you, the rain, and the complete darkness except for your headlights. You sighed, thinking about your boyfriend, how conflicted you felt about the whole thing. On one end, you were tired of the bullshit and were ready to call it quits with him. Why be with someone who makes you miserable? You heard your mom’s words echoing in your brain, so loud as if she was sitting right next to you. On the other end, you wanted to give him another chance as people who understood the hunting life was few and far between.
You didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but it was something that started to look more and more appealing. You were 22, still young and had time to find someone. But who? Another hunter? A civilian maybe? No, no civilians, you thought. Too risky. You needed someone that knew the life.
As if snapping you out of your current thought, your phone started ringing, the buzz of it slightly vibrating your seat. Since there were no cars on the road, you pulled off to the side, and answered the phone. "Hey Sammy," you said, "where are you?"
"Hey Y/N, I'm uh...still back at the Bunker," his voice sounded so tired and defeated.
You raised a brow in confusion. "What do you mean you're still back at the Bunker? You're not coming to help me?" You would be lying if you weren't disappointed. Although you had only known Sam for a short amount of time, he was someone that you genuinely enjoyed hunting with; not only because he was a legendary Winchester, but because he treated you like his equal, despite your age.
"Remember when Cas helped me on a case a while back and I ended up breaking my arm?" He said, and you nodded, even though you knew he wasn't able to hear you. But he took your lack of an answer to continue speaking. "Well, it's still broken. And I didn't want to say no when you called for help because you were such a big help to Cas and me, especially me, when Dean were gone."
You didn't want to give the impression that you were disappointed, even though you were. But you understood where Sam was coming from; and the last thing you wanted to do was force him to drive all the way to Tulsa just to sit in the motel room. "I really appreciate you saying yes, even though you're kind of out of commission. It...it really means a lot."
"Listen, I know you can pretty much solve this case in your sleep but..." he paused, sighing, almost as if he was afraid to say the next few words. "Dean offered to help you."
You were completely silent, which was a rarity for you. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate the help, but you were iffy about it as you didn't really like working with people that you weren't really familiar with. Yes, you've heard countless stories from Sam about his brother, and knew he was a good hunter; but the thing that scared you was, when it came down to it, would he just leave you for dead to save himself?
"I know you don't usually work with people you aren't really familiar with but," he sighed again, and you knew if he was in front of you right now, the puppy dog eyes would be in full force. "He's a great hunter, Y/N, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. If something bad happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself."
How could you possibly say no when Sam was practically telling you how good of a person his brother was? "Sam —"
"You'd be doing me a big favor, Y/N. I think this case would really help him get back into the swing of things," Sam said. Now you definitely couldn't say no.
You took a deep breath, sighing. "Okay," you said simply, giving in to Sam’s plead.
"Thanks Y/N, seriously," his tone sounding a bit happier now that you agreed. "I already gave him the address to the motel we agreed to meet at. He should hopefully be there right around the same time as you are."
"But you guys are almost six hours away," you stated with a raised brow. "Is he teleporting there?"
Sam chuckled at your comment. "No, no. He uh...he's a bit of a speed demon," Kind of like you, he wanted to add.
"Ah, so like me," you said. Sam couldn't help but smile at the comment, finding it funny that you had thought the exact same thing as he had. "Alright. Um, does he need my phone number or?"
"I kind of...already...gave it to him...sorry..." his words trailed off, almost embarrassed, like you had caught him red handed. You sighed, slightly annoyed. You didn't like when others gave out your phone number without asking you first, but then again, your boyfriend — which was soon to be your ex — was something he did quite often behind your back.
"He still driving the impala?" You asked, but before Sam could answer you, you continued with your thought, answering your own question. "Never mind, that was a stupid question," you slightly chuckled to yourself. "Of course he's still driving the impala."
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Dean held the steering wheel tightly in his hands, loving the feeling of the leather at his fingertips. It had been far too long since he'd driven Baby, and it was one of the things that he truly missed while he was gone. "It's just a car Sam," his words rang out; and those words gutted him, because Baby wasn't just a car: she was home.
As he drove, his music was low, not loud like he usually preferred it, as he was currently admiring the simplicity of his surroundings. The rain hitting the windshield and being quickly wiped away, the darkness of the road that was only lit up by Baby's headlights. He felt comfortable and at ease; something driving always helped him to feel. He felt at home right now.
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You didn't really know what to feel right now as you were debating back and forth on how your first meeting with the infamous Dean Winchester was going to go. According to Sam, the two of you would get along great, as he's made comments along the lines of, "You sometimes scarily remind me of Dean," which you weren't sure if you should take as a compliment or not.
Some of the stories Sam had told you about Dean impressed you, but then there were some where you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupidity. With some stories, you wondered how he wasn't dead already, then again, both Winchester's have died and came back countless times as death didn't seem to stick. You couldn't help but wonder what made them so special. Maybe they are God's favorites, you thought; and you couldn't help but chuckle.
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Pulling into the motel parking lot, you let out a small laugh, seeing Dean's impala already in the parking lot. He really is a speed demon, you thought. Wonder what time he got here? You wondered.
As soon as you parked your vehicle, your phone began buzzing, and you looked at the name on the caller ID. Your blood started boiling seeing your boyfriend's name. "You have to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled to yourself.
At first, you were going to ignore the call, as maybe he would think you were still driving. But there was no way you would be able to give that illusion as there was no traffic on the road when you left because of the time. With gritted teeth, you answered the call, trying your absolute best to remain calm. "Hey," was all you said.
"You get to the motel yet?" He asked, his tone implying that he already had that knowledge somehow.
"I just pulled in," your answers were short, as you were still mad at him from before. Although driving was one of the things that calmed you down and made you feel at peace, for some reason, this argument in particular really made you angry.
"You said you would call me when you got to the motel," he sounded mildly annoyed, but disappointed at the same time.
You rolled your eyes. "Fucking hell," you mouthed. "I just pulled in. You didn't give me enough time to even call or text you." You took a deep breath, feeling yourself getting ready to boil over. "This is me telling you that I have reached the motel and may not be able to talk to you over the next couple of days, okay?" You weren't asking him; you were telling him; trying to make it clear that you couldn't talk to him. Of course you would be able to, but you didn't want to, as this case was a way for you to get the edge off. It was a way to kill something without killing him.
"I love you," he said, and for some reason him saying those three little words surprised you. He rarely said them to you, even though it was something that you had said to him regularly. The only times he ever seemed to say those three little words to you was during or after sex, or when the two of you had gotten into a rather nasty argument.
You didn't want to say it back to him, as love was the very last thing you felt for him in this moment. But you almost felt like you needed to, so he wouldn't feel like anything was wrong between the two of you. Then again, you didn't want to gaslight him the same way he always seemed to gaslight you. "I'll see you in a few days," was how you decided to answer, as those were the most genuine words you felt you could say to him.
⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 2
Tag List: @roseblue373 | @snakebxtez | @deanwanddamons | @missy420-0 | @hannahisthebanana | @madzzz0797 | @livingordeadwhoknows | @grx-deanslovr | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @queenie32 | @deansbbyx | @deans-spinster-witch | @ficmesideways | @frozenhuntress67 | @coldspoons | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @androah | @zulema222 | @k-l-a-w-s | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @Imhf1
#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#spn#supernatural#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#spn one shot#supernatural one shot#dean x you#dean x reader#reader insert#female reader#the 15 year problem
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majestic march m.list
✯ mar 1 ✯ never ending song - sirius black
rockstar!reader - when your parents divorce, you decide to move to london to finish your last year of school, and take your music career there with you. what happens when you meet another pureblood rebel named sirius black
✯ mar 3 ✯ that look on your face - draco malfoy
draco malfoy's usually neutral face has a tendency to make people think he hates them, but his face always fails to betray his adoration over you.
✯ mar 5 ✯ what boyfriend? - harry potter -> 3k celebration
when you are bed ridden due to your period, Madame Pomfrey comes to check in on you and play match-maker.
✯ mar 7 ✯ the princess and her knight - sirius black
when your boyfriend dumps you, sirius does everything in his power to get you to smile again. and maybe make you understand how much he likes you
✯ mar 9 ✯ when the war is over - poly!marauders -> 3k celebration
with the war escalating, everyone is rethinking their values, and it seems like yours don't match with one of the people closest to your heart.
✯ mar 11 ✯ Phantom of the Opera: Prologue - "Sing, my angel of music" - Remus Lupin
You had always been grateful that your parents put all their money into making you the best at something you loved - musical theatre. The opening night of your new show is opening doors for you beyond your career.
✯ mar 13 ✯ perfect pureblooded daughter - malfoy!reader
being a metamorphmagus isn't easy, especially when your parents want you to be a perfect, pureblooded daughter, stoic and emotionless.
✯ mar 15 ✯ summer lovin' - harry potter
you decide to visit harry over the summer, playing the classic 'girl next door' so harry's uncle lets you in.
✯ mar 17 ✯ mind blowing kisser - platonic marauders
your friend group finds out something shocking about you, Hogwarts's biggest heartthrob
✯ mar 29 ✯ only woman - james potter -> 3k celebration
the first time you and james have a friendly conversation after your breakup leads to something more...
✯ mar 21 ✯ Phantom of the Opera: Chapter 1 - "Think of me fondly" - Remus Lupin
Sirius has to bring moral support with to come watch your debut as Christine in the Phantom of the Opera. Despite the judgemental pureblooded families around the pair, they are both serenaded by your enchanting singing.
✯ mar 23 ✯ before you go - fred weasley
after years of chasing after you, fred weasley finally convinces you to go on a date with him, and he makes sure to prove all the times you've rejected him wrong
✯ mar 25 ✯ after curfew - harry potter
you and harry seem to forget his godfather is doing rounds when you sneak out after curfew
✯ mar 27 ✯ Mrs. Malfoy Riddle - mattheo riddle
mattheo doesn't care that you're betrothed to his best friend, especially not when you're so in love. so he guarantees one last night before you're officially his.
✯ mar 29 ✯ a job for a godparent - harry potter
harry knows you're the love of his life, but he just needs to know that you want kids as much as he does. a day at his house over the summer confirms it.
✯ mar 31 ✯ familiar faces - ron weasley -> request
when ron unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through a one night stand, he realises it may affect his relationship with his best friend, who he discovers is her step-father.
#rainydayathogwarts masterlists#rainydayathogwarts#harry potter#fred weasley#ron wealsey#james potter#marauders x reader#draco malfoy#sirius black
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DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 16: Initial Thoughts
Sorry for missing episode 15 :(
That being said, oh my god, Chapter 2 is actually complete! This is so exciting! I'm really hyped to talk about this episode and give my not-live summary of my live reactions!
SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT THROUGH THE END OF CH 2!!!
CW: Murder, sacrifice, suicide
The Reactions
12-1, this time. I'm still personally partial to the extra vote on Teruko last Trial being Arei (being petty about her "I'm voting for you no matter what" thing), so I would assume Ace is the Teruko vote. If so, I do think it's interesting that he voted Teruko as opposed to, like, Nico. Then again, it might be that it's just more convenient for DRDTdev to consistently put the extra vote on Teruko, lol.
Notably, the dead people have "N/A," not 0. We probably could tell this because of Xander last time, but I didn't check. I wonder if this implies we won't ever need to vote for someone dead (ex. a mastermind who "died" earlier in the killing game).
I'm free... I can read whatever Eden says as genuine...
Take THAT, Whit time loop theorists /j
I do think it's funny/kinda telling? that Whit is only saying this after the trial is over. Like, I feel like the normal time to go "oh my god we're having another trial" is, like... when you find the body? So, it's interesting that his reaction is so delayed.
So, I don't know if this was an intentional parallel, but...
These feel similar to me. I really like the Ace/Arei parallels, where they're both chronically hated people, but Arei apologizes and tries to change whereas Ace lets the fear and paranoia consume him until there's no turning back. Ace only says this after he's already been found guilty of murder; Arei says this before promising to change her ways to the victim of her bullying.
Teruko out here hopping on that self-blame train.
It's so funny how different Hu's standards are when talking about Ace's murder vs. Nico's attempted murder. Like... Hu this is what everyone was telling you like an hour ago. What.
It's really interesting that we're highlighting this line. I wonder if this is part of a theme that we're going to explore further, maybe tied into the "all murderers have to be punished" thing. Or maybe Eden isn't actually accurate here, but doesn't know it; has Ace killed someone in the past?
Fun trick you can do here!
When we first met Teruko a week ago, she was the same person, certainly, but she was also different. She was happier, and she trusted people more.
There are so many good character parallels in DRDT. The Ace/Teruko one was really interesting in this post-trial.
Ooh, new flavor of J anti-murder! This seems to be broadening it to also being critical of the killing game, which would go against my weird hypothetical "J is anti-murderer but also the mastermind" read.
It's interesting, with how this is Ace's logic. It makes total sense for his character, though. I think it's easy for us, the viewers, to forget the fact that the characters probably don't have the precedent of "every blackened ever always loses." When Ace is running the odds, he thinks his survival odds were better as a killer than as a participant in the killing game. And y'know, considering how close he came to dying as Nico's victim, that's kinda fair.
I desperately want to know what Levi was going to say here.
I really like the fact that Ace DID care about Levi. That he intrinsically cares about him, but he knows factually that he isn't supposed to like or trust someone in a killing game. That once he killed Arei, he had to resolve to kill everyone in the killing game, even Levi.
The only way Ace knew to prevent himself from caring was to stay mad, I guess. Kinda unfortunate though, considering that I do think Levi wanted to patch things up with him genuinely.
Meanwhile, Levi, who doesn't understand emotions, is just like "man what the fuck. That makes no sense."
What a pair. I'm sad we're not going to get to see their dynamic anymore :(
In other words, I'm back on the Levi survivor train baby! My biggest problem with it before was that I thought Ace was gonna survive and I didn't think Ace and Levi were both gonna survive, so now we're locking tf in!
This is fun! I always wonder why more people don't try stuff like this. Like... shoot your shot. You're gonna die otherwise, soooo...
Great animation as always
I think it's really funny that Teruko is so fucking mad that she bullies Ace into action. Like, that's so fitting for both of them.
I love using this David expression here. He's just like, "was it that easy? Why was I trying to throw the trial then???"
aaaaAAAAAAAA--
What the fuck!! XF-Ture mention!!!!!!!!
I like the spooky vibe MonoTV has for this post-trial, but I do hope we get our normal silly lil guy back next chapter. I like the MonoTV personality we see all the time. I'm gonna miss it if it just died like that :(
I am also squinting so hard at everyone's reactions through "who is the mastermind" goggles. Maybe I'll analyze them in a different post sometime.
Fascinating purpose. Not "to create despair." Not "to run the killing game until only one participant survives." To kill everyone.
Does this include whichever mastermind?
Why does whoever programmed MonoTV want to kill all of these people? Are they being punished for something?
This countdown sequence fucked me up. The tensions and emotions are so high. Even as someone who was confident that Teruko, at least, wasn't going to die no matter what, I was so on edge. I got really scared that Eden was going to take the hit for Teruko, though, and that's what I was reading into when I wasn't sure Eden would make it to Chapter 3.
This speech, more than any other one Teruko has made or any actions she's taken or endured, really made me feel for Teruko. The fact that she can so casually talk about truly traumatic and horrific things happening to her, while smiling, truly shows how much she's grown used to it. Like, girl. You don't deserve this. What.
The character work on Teruko especially this episode is just fantastic. No words.
This panel stressed me out so bad because it was really just a question of WHO took the bullet for Teruko. Like, if she's thinking this, someone clearly did.
My bets were on either Eden, Charles, or Ace.
Levi, though, was such a surprise to see. Like, in a good way. It means so much.
First of all, it's a callback to the end of the prologue. Levi attacks MonoTV, and when MonoTV tries to kill him in response, Teruko's danger sense alerts her. It's only through Teruko warning Levi to move that Levi dodged the main attack, resulting in only an arm injury rather than death. Now, Levi returns her favor, preventing her from dying from attacking MonoTV.
Second, it puts Ace into the position we see of having to confront the possibility of Levi's death. I got the distinct sense that they wanted Ace to be able to do something heroic on his way out, to prove all the haters wrong (which is why I thought it was possible he'd take the hit for Teruko instead of Levi). By putting Levi, pretty clearly the person he cares most about, into harm's way, it makes Ace take action. It means that he HAS to confront the fact that he cares Levi, and that he has to die.
And, thirdly... I am so fascinated to learn why Levi did this. Was it as simple as a transactional, "you saved me from execution before?" Is it "I thought saving someone would make me a good person?" Does Levi actually feel some remorse for Teruko in this moment, causing him to take action?
No matter what his reasoning, I can't wait to hear from him. I strongly suspect Levi won't actually die from this (at the very least, I hope not, because I really want to hear more from him), but even if he does, hopefully we'll still get some more insight in a bonus episode or a flashback or something.
I'm trying to figure out what triggered Whit here.
This is immediately following "The elevator won't open," but it also definitely can just correlate to "[person] will die if they don't receive immediate medical treatment." I have to assume that something here is reminding Whit of his mom...?
With the weird "Whit knows a lot about hanging" earlier, I got the impression that Whit's mom probably hung herself. From this, I would probably theorize that Whit found her while she was still alive, but not quickly enough to save her. Yikes.
Anyways, I think that means everyone has some kind of despair sprite now! That's fun!
o7
I'm sure many have pointed this out, but do we think he's counting himself here (Arei + Ace + Levi = 3), or do we think he feels responsible for someone else's death in his past (probably Taylor)? I'd lean towards the second one.
Y'know, before I thought Arturo was just pressed about the surgeon thing because people were unfairly hating on him. This, at least, I think implies something relating to Felicity.
Arturo doesn't have any experience saving lives. He left, and Felicity died. He can't save lives; he's only responsible for Felicity's ending. I think that's how he sees it.
On a side note, I think there's a very definite possibility that Chapter 3 cold opens on Arturo saving Levi's life??? Like, how Chapter 2 started with Eden POV, I think Chapter 3 could start with Arturo taking his shot at healing Levi, eventually resulting in Levi stabilizing. I'm not sure who would be there with him. Possibly Hu, since she was leading the "let's get Levi to the infirmary" effort...?
I love executions like this. Accirax has said before that the best executions are what make their recipient feel the most despair, and that's definitely what they did with Ace here. Put the talent aside; fear is what Ace fears the most.
Uhhhh. I'm pulling an Accirax. Part 2 in reblog!
#drdt#drdt spoilers#danganronpa despair time#levi fontana#ace markey#teruko tawaki#arturo giles#whit young#i think those are the people who have justified this#reblog being made rn
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If I were these villainesses lawyers and if I could convince court they are innocent. (The court in this case is the manhwa community so the guilty/innocent factor will be based on if I can convince the community they did nothing wrong)
Yvonne.
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I mean this one would be easy. She was body-napped by a Leila follower so all the crimes would be charged on the follower not Yvonne, and shes been trapped in a mirror anyway so the poor girl has been going through enough. She's got a solid case to prove her innocence.
Rashta
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Honestly with how much the fandom is growing to love her she's not as screwed as one might think. If anything she could have rights to sue the Rimwells for years of unpaid labor and wrongfully taking away her child. Still, murder and mutilation are crimes worthy of hating her, not to mention those who think stealing someone's man is somehow worse then that. The best I could give Rashta is probably 5 years with a chance of parole
Rhyse
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I feel like we would first have a guaranteed innocent verdict but then someone would reveal evidence that she's the author and we'd be done for 😭 because that's essentially what happened to me when I read the newest chapters of NYTRS. Rhyse is probably gonna get sentenced to 30 years with no parole.
Isabella
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I'm gonna look her right in the eyes as I say "you are screwed." Because I don't know how I'm going to convince the community that a pure evil villainess who killed her sisters, one of which was a child, that she is a good person deep down. I can't even say she's a good villain cause that sure as hell isn't true. Sorry Isabella but your gonna get life with no parole.
Diane
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I think I could get her out.. maybe worst case scenario she gets 1-3 years since someone will probably point out she kidnapped and beat a maid for supposedly trying to seduce the Emperor. But she did kill said Emperor and redeemed herself plus she kinda drank poison and gave herself a death penalty already so I think she's already dealt her punishment.
Marianne
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Normally if we were going by actual morality Marianne would get the lethal injection, but since we are going by fandom laws which are all based on "love" for a character Marianne is probably gonna just get 10 years since she's so well beloved as a villain and character and then the public is gonna get pissed that she got it easy for her long list of charges.
Soleia
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Soleia is gonna be the reason the Salem witch trials come back in modern day BUT she has actual black magic so she'd probably never even show up to court but if she did best case scenario she can leave on bail since what she did was for revenge and the people she hurt were willing to drop the charges if she agreed to not relapse, the fandom likes her more then Yerenica so she's almost guaranteed an innocent verdict by fandom law.
Freya
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I could probably defend her for wanting to be with Izek so badly since she was trying to escape her toxic family but unfortunately 2/3 community despise her existence and would call for life in prison. If I reallly put in the effort Freya would get 10-15 years with a chance of parole.
Sumin
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I already know I'm gonna be stressing as her lawyer. She murdered her mother in-law and even before that she did that she was still mean to the FL and thats a cardinal sin in the manhwa world to be mean to the FL. She's got a backstory sure but it's extremely contrived and dumb and even if it wasn't she still had a multitude of other friends and help from others so there's really no excuse. I might love her craziness but I don't think I'm gonna talk her out of life in prison with no parole.
Cosette
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Another easy innocent. She is possessed by a demon who used her body to break havoc on the world so Cosette herself is in the clear and ready to go, and if we go by the novel, Cosette is dead.. gonna be real hard to charge a dead girl for Ragibachs crimes.
Mielle
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Definitely gonna fail her and at best she's gonna get 35 years for arranging Aria to be executed for basically no good reason, pushing her father down the stairs and in general being a horrible person with a superiority complex, not like she's even gonna see the light again after 35 years cause we all know Aria isn't gonna let that slide.
Dodolea
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I'm not even gonna try. I'm just gonna take the money and let herself get the electric chair cause even though I like white lotuses. Dodolea is the rare case where I actually hate a character and my only good thoughts about her is that she's a fantastic villainess.
#the remarried empress#sister i am the queen in this life#not your typical reincarnation story#actually i was the real one#i abdicate my title of empress#marry my husband#my in laws are obsessed with me#the villainess reverses the hourglass#how to get my husband on my side#villains are destined to die#death is the only ending for a villainess#seducing the villains father#into the light once again
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Office Hours: Masterlist
Pairing: Astarion/Named f!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: enemies to lovers, rough sex, emotional manipulation, angst with a happy ending, an absurd amount of smut with some fluff, biting/blood drinking, choking, collaring, praise kink, daddy kink, modern with magic, university au, fat tav. full list on ao3.
Summary:
Rosalind, a classical theatre professor at Baldur's Gate University, finds herself inexplicably drawn to the infuriating arrogance of Dr. Ancunín in the English department. But she can't deny the thrill that goes down her spine every time he peers over his glasses at her, and she absolutely hates the way it makes her feel. Every sharp tug in her hair, every possessive grab, every bite in her neck marking her as belonging to him... Why does she find this so hot? She should be horrified by this behavior, shouldn't she? Read as Rosalind navigates her ever complicated relationship with Professor Astarion and - even moreso - her complicated relationship to her own desire.
Read it on AO3 (updated through chapter 8)
Office Hours playlist on Spotify
Read it on Tumblr:
you can rent the space inside my mind
it's so easy to bite with your hands pinned
I want this like a cigarette
caught that fever, I shouldn't be here
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Office Hours tag on my page ~ OH Fanart
#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion smut#astarion x tav#astarion x female tav#astarion x female oc#astarion x f!tav#astarion/tav#astarion/oc#bg3 modern au#professor astarion#astarion au#bg3 astarion#bg3 astarion smut#Astarion bg3 smut#smut#office hours
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The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 24
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Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Chapter wc: 7k
Chapter rating: NSFW
Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, SMUT
Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.
Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23]
Masterlist
Slowly crossposting from AO3
Chapter 24: I'm Still Angry
On the first night, you’d drowned your thoughts in a haze of alcohol, seeking refuge in the oblivion it promised. On the second night, you’d danced with reckless abandon, losing yourself in the rhythmic pulse of the music until memories blurred into nothingness. And on the third night, exhaustion had claimed you, pulling you into a deep slumber that offered respite from the chaos of your mind… until the sound of music beckoned you to start the whole ritual once again.
Outside, the storm raged on, its fury unabated by the passage of time. But within the cozy confines of the tavern, the tempestuous winds and torrential rain faded into the background, drowned out by the lively chatter and infectious laughter of its patrons. In the warm glow of the lanterns, you found solace from the relentless onslaught of the elements and your thoughts.
You hadn't returned to the ship in over a week, your stubbornness fueling your determination to stay away. The idiot could fall on Yokubari and fucking go to hell, for all you cared, or so you kept on telling yourself. During this time, Nami had visited the tavern on a few occasions, indulging in a drink or two while checking up on you. Initially, concern had etched lines of worry on her face, evident in the way she probed for details about what had transpired between you and the swordsman. But when you remained unwilling to talk, she had simply sighed in resignation, accepting your silence with a weary understanding. She assured you that they would come to fetch you before they set sail again.
"So, what's your poison tonight?" The question cut through the din of the tavern, drawing your attention back to the present moment. Leaning against the worn wood of the bar, you regarded the boy with a half-smile, appreciating his easy charm and friendly demeanor.
He had been a constant presence over the past few days, a willing partner in the impromptu dance sessions that had become a nightly ritual. Together, you had spun and laughed, losing yourselves in the music and the fleeting moments of joy it brought. He was flirty but not pushy, making him perfect for whatever you were trying to achieve with this temper tantrum of yours.
With a playful glint in his eyes, he awaited your response, his expression a curious blend of anticipation and amusement. "I think I'll stick to water tonight," you confessed with a chuckle, your voice tinged with a hint of ruefulness. "I'm still feeling the aftermath of those drinking games from last night."
The boy laughed lightly, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. His flirty attempt was clunky, unpracticed. "Water it is then," he murmured, his tone playful yet colored with a sliver of disappointment. "But don't think you can escape me that easily. We've got some dancing to do, remember?"
You tossed your head back at his awkward charm, laughing heartily. Goodness, he never gave up. As you watched your dance partner come back with your drink, you noticed how he faltered in his step, how he blanched a little as he glanced over your shoulder.
You didn’t even need to look to guess what had unsettled the boy so, but still you stared at the swordsman effectively looming over you.
Oh.
He was angry.
Your eyes traveled from his face to the swords at his side, landing on Yokubari, still strapped at his waist. You scowled, the blazing anger within you refueled at the sight. The urge to throttle him still unbelievably strong. Didn’t matter, two could play this game, your own fury not to be underestimated.
With a scoff, you turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of your hand. “I don’t feel like talking to you, swordsman,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disdain as you refused to give him any more of your attention.
You watched out of the corner of your eye as the boy, sensing the tension between you and Zoro, hesitated in his approach. His easy smile faltered, replaced by a nervous unease as he quickly retreated, eager to avoid becoming collateral damage in whatever confrontation was brewing between the two of you.
Smart boy. You’d do the same if you were in his place.
Sighing, you leaned against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention with a practiced gesture. The need for an actual drink abruptly urgent. “You didn’t have to chase him away like that,” you admonished, your tone thick with irritation. “He was a perfectly fine dance partner.”
Silence answered you as you heard the subtle shift of cloth and clink of swords behind you as he matched your movements.
When the bartender inevitably ignored you too, suddenly engrossed in polishing a glass, you turned to face him. “What do you want?” you snapped, your expression a mask of defiance, resolute to not let him ruin your night.
His frown deepened, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm grip that bordered on possessive. “We’re going back to the ship,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You paused there for an instant, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. “No,” you decided as you wrenched your hand free from his grasp and strode purposefully towards the dance floor, determined to assert your independence in the face of his domineering shit of an attitude.
You sensed Zoro's presence trailing behind you for a moment, his looming shadow casting a palpable weight in the midst of his annoyance, then not anymore. Ignoring his silent disapproval, you surrendered to the pulsating rhythm of the music, allowing it to guide your movements to the center of the crowd with instinctive grace. Drawn into the embrace of a stranger, you yielded to the seductive sway of the tune, granting the man’s touch to travel sensually along the curves of your body.
With each spin and turn, the stranger's hands ventured boldly, taunting the fabric of your shirt upwards to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. He twirled you around, allowing your back to fall against his chest, as his fingers roamed in a slow, teasing display.
On any other day, you would have slapped the inquisitive touch away but on this night the nerve of his exploration served the audacity of your actions. You met the swordsman’s stare with a lidded gaze. Was that fury you saw flashing in his eye? Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was that twisting up his pretty face, it felt like a victory.
With a wicked grin, you yielded into the stranger's touch, inviting the tension to mount between you and the swordsman with each passing moment. You thrived on the satisfaction. The air hummed with unspoken defiance, a silent dare for Zoro to break his stoic façade.
The stranger's touch ventured further, his hand gliding from your stomach to your chest, his palm flat as he pressed against the fabric of your shirt before encircling your throat with a gentle yet possessive hold. Tilting your head back against his shoulder, you maintained eye contact with the swordsman, relishing the simmering intensity in his furious stare.
As the tension between you reached a crescendo, you observed with satisfaction as Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of one of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. The air crackled with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken challenge that hung between you like a tautly drawn bowstring.
With a subtle shift in your stance, you silently dared Zoro to make a move. The stranger's touch remained a seductive invitation, a quiet provocation that dared the swordsman to act on his impulses.
And then, the tension shattered like glass.
With a swift, fluid motion, Zoro's hand inched away from the hilt of his sword, his steps carrying him across the crowded floor in a determined stride. Ignoring the curious glances of the tavern's patrons, he closed the distance between you with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.
As he reached you, he grabbed your arm firmly but not roughly, pulling you away from the stranger's embrace with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. The stranger's hand fell from your throat, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation as he watched the swordsman stake his claim.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted at him as you followed his lead.
Without a word, Zoro led you away from the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, his grip tightening as he guided you through the maze of tables and chairs. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his silent declaration hanging heavily between you.
As you emerged into the cool night air, the storm still raging overhead, the wind tousled your hair, rain slowly drenching your clothes.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You shouted again, planting your feet down, obstinate anger filling you, refusing to budge.
Zoro’s expression remained flat; his jaw clenched in stubborn determination. “We’re going back to the ship,” he stated firmly.
You scoffed incredulously; the sound drowned out by the howling wind. “Like hell we are,” you retorted, your noncompliance unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you, swordsman.”
For a moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent standoff, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain of defiance. The tension crackled in the air, thick with unspoken words.
Fuck, he was stunning. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him. Your eyes surveyed his face, taking in the scowl on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.
He moved with swift determination, pinning you against the slick brick wall. The freezing rain seeped through your already soaked clothes, but you paid it no mind amidst the brewing confrontation.
“What the fuck’s your problem?” you snapped, glaring up at him, defiance flashing in your stare.
“You’re infuriating,” he growled, leaning in close, his breath mingling with yours in the damp air.
“I’m still angry,” you declared, your brows furrowing with stubborn resolve.
“So am I,” he admitted, his hand traveling up to cradle the nape of your neck.
“You have no business being angry at me, swordsman,” you retorted, your tone sharp with wrath.
Despite the intensity of the storm raging around you, the charged atmosphere between you and Zoro crackled with an energy of its own. His grip tightened slightly, fingers tangling in your hair, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of frustration and longing.
“You always make it so damn difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation.
“Me?” you scoffed, index pushing repeatedly into his chest painfully. “You're the one wh—”
But before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, silencing your protest with a searing passion. At first, you froze, then you matched his intensity, finding yourself responding to his movements with an equal measure of neediness, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair roughly as you pulled him closer.
His fingers traveled under your shirt, his touch scorching hot against the coolness of wet skin. You backed off searching for breath. Your eyes met his, the hunger in his gaze made your knees want to buckle a definite want settling in your core.
Fuck.
With a firm push, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he yielded to your lead. As he took a step back, your hand found the hem of his sleeve, a determined look in your eyes as you started to move, dragging him through the winding maze of alleyways. Each turn was swift and decisive, your footsteps echoing against the forming puddles in the dips of the cobblestones as you navigated the labyrinthine paths with resolute haste, your destination clear in your mind.
Without a word, you pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hotel you’d been staying at, the warmth of the lobby enveloping you in a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside rain. The flickering glow of the lanterns cast dancing shadows upon the walls as you beelined to your room.
The swordsman hovered over you, placing soft kisses on your neck as you fumbled to unlock the door.
The lock clicked. You entered. In the sanctuary of your room, his hands grew bolder in their exploration, your shirt dragging dangerously high, the hem of your short skirt catching on your hips in a barely decent display.
“Shit,” you mewled, one of your hands finding purchase on the flat surface before you, nails digging in the wood as you tried to lock the door behind you. “Just let me lock the door,” you begged as he nipped at your neck, licked your ear.
He ignored your pleas, his body melting against yours, trapping you more firmly against him. His hand traveled against your thigh, traced the soft flesh near your core, his hips catching into yours. Your forehead met the wood of the door as the pads of his fingers found your soaked underwear, tracing light circles.
You moaned. Mind feeling empty as a wave of pleasure coursed through your veins.
He brought your hips tighter against his as his touch became rougher. He deftly pushed aside the drenched fabric, pads meeting your slick. Everything felt more intense all of a sudden, the embers of ecstasy unmuted as he explored relentlessly.
His name passed your lips in a high whine. He moaned against your ear, hips unwillingly bucking into yours. Fuck. You could feel how hard he was.
The lock finally clicked. You turned around. His lips found yours immediately in a primal urgency.
“The bed’s right there,” you mewled, your words breathy.
He kissed your jaw, down your neck. “Don’t care,” he said as one of his hands pushed up your shirt, your bra, fingers tracing the curve of your breast, pinching almost tenderly at your nipple.
“We should wash up first,” you protested meekly, your fists bunching in the wet fabric of his overcoat, movements contradicting your objections.
“Don’t care,” he repeated breath mingling with yours. He bit at your lower lip, tongue darting in, exploring, demanding.
You obliged, hands discovering his chest, never settling in one place.
As you broke away for air, he leaned back, his hungry gaze meeting yours. He smirked, taking in the want in your eyes, your bruised lips, the flush on your cheeks. He backed off a step, eye roaming over your body, searing in the image before him in his mind, the way your skirt was hiked up, the way the wet fabric of your shirt clung to your skin as you leaned against the door.
“Fuck,” he groaned. You were the very picture of depravity.
He fell to his knees, pressed a kiss on the front of your underwear as his hands traced up along your outer thighs. As his fingers curled against the lace of your panties, he looked up at you, a soft pause as he searched your features for any hint of hesitation.
The crystal-clear need etched on your face gave him all the confirmation he needed. He trailed the thin piece of fabric down. It caught for a moment on your knee-high boot as you lifted one leg to help him out.
Before you could put your foot down, his hand wrapped under your knee, bringing your leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head on your inner thigh, cheek against soft flesh before placing slow kisses, tender bites as he made his way toward your heat.
Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling painfully on the unruly locks, nails digging into his scalp, backing him away. He looked up at you, a groan escaping him at the sensation. There was clear satisfaction in his gaze.
“Look at you, witch,” his voice was gruff, tick with lust.
It sent a shiver down your spine, a moan out your lips. You felt some of your slick drip on your thigh, cool against flushed skin. Heat spread across your face at the reaction of your body.
“I’m still angry,” you whispered as he started moving closer, one of his hands exploring up and down your outer thigh, the other dragging your skirt higher, before dipping down, fingers tracing your slit.
His grin broke into a smile as he brought them to his mouth, the light glistening on their wetness. He made a show of licking them clean. Tongue swirling, sucking against the digits before his lips came back to your inner thigh.
“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” he apologized dangerously close to your core, his breath teasing, your legs feeling less and less steady as seconds passed. “Forgive me.”
You whined his name, a hopelessly needy sound.
Finally, finally, he met your heat, giving you no time to adjust to the relentless rhythm of his onslaught. His tongue pressed against your clit as he devoured you with the hunger of a man deprived of water, each lick and suck a desperate quenching of his thirst.
Your eyelids fluttered shut, the world feeling like a hazy dream in between the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. Your fingers tightened in the unruly locks, nails digging into the flesh at his nape as your hips bucked unwittingly.
He moaned against you, the muffled sound sending electric shocks through you. His hold on your thigh increased, anchoring you solidly against his shoulder as his nails left crescent marks in the plush flesh. His other hand went to your core, lifting the hood of your clit slightly as he redoubled his efforts.
Your eyes shot open at the sensation, breath catching in your throat. It was all too much, the pleasure cascading over your mind too sharp. One of your hands snapped away from his hair, clamping over your mouth, muffling the high-pitched scream that passed your lips. The back of your head hit the wood behind you loudly, the pain barely registering.
Your gaze met his, you sensed the satisfied smirk gracing his lips more than you saw it. He moved away from your clit, exploring. His tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers taking on the bundle of nerves instead.
You were about to come, your vision starting to feel overexposed, everything swirling around you. You tried to warn him, your words incoherent.
He maintained his rhythm, allowing you to tip over the edge, white overflowing your senses.
He continued tirelessly, your thigh trembling against his shoulder. You attempted to pry him off, but he remained doggedly obstinate in his ministrations.
You bit down painfully on your palm as your mind wrestled to keep up with the overstimulation. Your breath hitched and struggled with every inhale and exhale.
“Too much,” you begged, voice high, the sound muffled by your hand as a second orgasm coursed through you, tears threatening to flood your eyes.
He stopped then, waiting for your grip to loosen in his hair before coming back up. His chin was covered in your arousal. He pried your hand away from your mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the teeth marks etched in your skin before his lips found yours.
His movements were slow at first, allowing your mind to catch up. Then his tongue met yours in a forceful dance, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth.
Your knees buckled. Your fists bunched in his overcoat in an attempt to steady yourself but you still felt your back start to drag down against the door, your legs unable to keep you up.
His hands went behind your thighs, pulling you in his arms effortlessly. You melted in his chest, limbs uncooperative before he deposited you onto the bed.
As your back sank into the softness of the mattress, your eyes landed on the swordsman skillfully maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulder.
“Shoes,” you muttered as your gaze went to your boots.
He grumbled a curse under his breath, bringing your other leg to his shoulder so both feet were next to one another. “Always so fucking demanding,” he complained, words barely audible as with one hand he tugged at the laces of your boots, the other going to your cunt, two fingers entering your heat.
The squelching sound of your arousal as he fingered you was obscene. Lazy whimpers escaped you as they easily slipped in and out, the hazy feeling in your mind delightful. He suddenly curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, eliciting a loud moan out of you, the promise of rapture starting to edge at your vision once more.
“Zoro,” you begged between moans, his name flowing out of your lips again and again, a deprived chant.
He finished loosening the laces of the first boot, taking it off roughly and throwing it back without care. You dimly heard it hit something but it barely reached the edge of your mind, your attention entirely focused on the shifts of his fingers.
The pad of his thumb met your clit gently, teasing as he started unlacing the second boot.
You bucked under his touch, walls fluttering against his fingers.
His hand moved against the laces with sudden urgency, tugging harder and faster with each pull as he hurried through the process.
The second boot joined the other. You whined in protest as he left your heat. He opened your legs, settling himself between them.
You pushed yourself to your elbows, then sitting as you took off your shirt, your bra. Your bodies almost touched in the position, your legs draped over his thighs, warmth radiating from your skin, melting into his own.
You leaned back slightly, his gaze unabashedly took in the sight. His fingers skillfully unknotted the cords holding the swords at his side. There was a loud clang as they fell to the floor forgotten, his overcoat and stomach band following suit with urgency.
His hands grazed up your thighs, nails digging in and sending shivers to your core. He leaned in, his lips hovering ever so close over yours.
Your hand palmed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. You looked up at him, pupils blown in desire.
The moan that escaped him was pure lust, primal as his breath mixed with yours.
It stirred something in you. You ached to see him writhe under your touch, hear that moan again, make him whimper.
“Let me return the favor,” you demanded, fingers moving up and down, groping before inching towards the waistband of his pants.
His hand intercepted yours roughly. “Not today,” he kissed your jaw, down your throat. “Can’t wait,” he muttered after giving your nipple a flick with his tongue.
He pushed you down, your back meeting the mattress in a small bounce. You rolled your hips against his, your arousal leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. You felt his canine graze your breast as he relished the feeling, followed by a soft bite and his tongue as he sucked and marked.
“Then just fuck me already, swordsman,” you demanded.
He smirked against your skin. “So needy,” he remarked, pulling back, his hands departing from you as he undid his pants, his aching cock meeting your stomach.
He moved one of your legs expertly to his shoulder, fingers finding the scar near your ankle, tenderly tracing circles against it. Your other leg instinctively wrapped around his hip.
His gaze was filled with lust as he met yours. You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance. His lips went to the white line marking your skin in a soft kiss as he started sinking into you.
You whimpered as he dragged in further, the pace tortuously slow. Your fingers tangled in the sheets in ecstasy. The stretch was overwhelming, intoxicating.
“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, biting down on the flesh above your ankle, leaving small red marks behind. “So fucking tight.”
You tried to roll your hips, take him in quicker but his hand stopped the movement, stilling you in a bruising hold.
By the time he was fully sheathed inside you, you were breathing hard, your walls already fluttering against him. He gave a tentative thrust, nails digging into the plushness of your hips before he dragged a hand to your lower stomach, increasing the pressure as he filled you oh so well.
He was so deep, it almost made your eyes roll. You could feel your breasts bounce with every slow thrust. For a moment you saw him admire the view but his gaze inevitably returned to your face as he relished each twitch of pleasure passing your features far more than anything else.
There was a furrow on his brow as he searched for something, his hand moving your leg, opening you up, trying to find a certain angle. You let out a sharp cry as a particular thrust made you see stars.
“Zoro,” you whined, one of your hands extending towards him, “fuck,” he was just out of reach, you wanted to touch him so bad. You let your hand fall, instead joining his for an instant on your stomach.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He slid out to the tip and slammed back in, his pace increasing now that he had found what he was searching for.
Your hand fell back to the covers at the intensity of his movements, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. His palm roamed up from your stomach, roughly groping as he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, his breath mingling with yours suddenly. His fingers settled on your neck, then your jaw as he bit your lower lip, and kissed you hard.
As he pulled back, his gaze blown with lust followed the strand of saliva connecting the two of you. “How long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he passed his thumb harshly on your reddened lips. “Just so you know, I’m only starting, witch.”
A smirk danced on your features at the boldness of his words, a chuckle escaping you, as though he wasn’t already fucking you senseless. You rolled your hips, meeting his rhythm. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, swordsman,” you retorted, the defiance in your stare igniting a spark in his eye, a challenge he was willing to see through.
In answer, his hand left your face, settled itself between your bodies, finding your clit in soft circles. Your back arched in pleasure, your hands flying to his arms, fingers looking for purchase. Incoherent swears passed your lips, your nails dug in, dragged along his arms. The pain mixing in with the pleasure earning you a loud groan on his part.
You dimly caught the sound of the bed creak with each of his thrusts, the way the headboard slammed on the wall now and then, but you didn’t care, the ecstasy washing over you making you forget all sense of propriety.
Your words were incomprehensible as he brought you nearer and nearer to the edge. Closer to desperate pleas and wanton moans than coherent sentences. Your whole body tensed hard as you orgasmed, a soft flush spread across your chest.
You heard him swear under his breath as your walls clenched around him but he didn’t stop as your mind struggled to come back. He suddenly turned you over, his thighs trapping yours. His hands found your hips, holding them up bruisingly. The moan you let out as he slid inside you again was so depraved that he almost came right there.
Your face dug in the covers, drool seeping in the fabric, nails digging hard in the soft weave. You heard threads snap as you writhed. He felt so deep. Your toes curled in pleasure. It was all too much, you were already so damned over sensitive.
“Shit, so good for me,” his hands palmed your ass roughly, velvety skin yielding under calloused fingers. His touch was domineering as it traveled along the curve of your back, pushing up your skirt, still bunched around your waist.
You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades, inch toward your neck, fingers tangling harshly in your locks for a fleeting moment. Then he grasped your arm, pulling you up easily, his arm snaking around you, his palm flat against your sweat covered skin as his hand moved up encircling your throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. Your hands instinctively settled on his forearm for support as you struggled to keep up.
The sound of wet slapping skin, the squelch as he drilled into you intensified in the position. His hand traveled up almost tenderly, cupping your face, turning you to him. His lips captured yours lazily, one of your hands shifted away from his arm, navigating to his nape, fingers tangling in his unruly hair.
The hand on your hip roamed down, fingers finding your clit. You spasmed and begged at the blitz of sensations. Thighs trembling, there was nothing you could do but hang on for dear life, your nails digging painfully in his forearm, in his neck as his pace fastened.
Your name passed his lips. “One more for me,” he pleaded, hot breath mixing with yours before biting hard on your shoulder.
“Please, Zoro, fuck,” you sobbed in pleasure as you felt your orgasm rapidly build up.
His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken by your pleas. “Where do you want me to cum?” the urgency in his voice was apparent as he breathed out the question.
“In-inside,” you begged over and over.
He groaned at that, the idea clearly pleasing to him. “Shit,” his thrusts were sloppy, his hold on your body harder. “So fucking perfect for me.”
With a particularly hard flick on your clit, your mind went blank, body hard then limp, entirely supported by the swordsman’s strength as rapture filled you.
He kissed and marked you almost painfully as you came down from your high, walls spasming sporadically around him. He swore emphatically, your name uttered between each curse, before emptying out inside you, his loud moans muffled against your skin.
His movements gradually slowed. He placed a fond kiss on your shoulder, and you whimpered as he pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your thigh. He lowered you gently on the bed, following you as he dropped himself next to you.
Lying there in the aftermath, a sense of weightlessness enveloped you, leaving your mind blissfully devoid of thought. His arm rested heavily on your stomach, the sensation of damp skin against damp skin a tactile reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. Gradually, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
With a tenderness that caught you off guard, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before trailing along your jawline. You watched him, a puzzled furrow creasing your brow, as he rose from the bed with a quiet grunt, pulling up his pants, still pooled around his ankles, before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.
"What are you doing?" you called after him, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.
"You said we should wash up," he grumbled in response, the sound of running water punctuating his words.
An amused snort escaped you. "Now? Really, Zoro?" You attempted to roll over, but your muscles felt weak, and you slumped back down in defeat.
From the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his features as he observed your futile attempt.
"Having some trouble?" he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he stalked to your side, the bed dipping under his weight as he settled himself between your legs. If you weren't so fucked out, the smugness in his tone might have elicited an eye roll, but instead, a small chuckle escaped your lips at his comment.
One of his hands went behind your knee, opening you up for him. The other went to your slit, a sharp hiss escaping your lips at the over sensitivity. His fingers traced the seed dripping out of you.
He swore under his breath, his gaze blown out as he met your eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” you breathed out in a high-pitched whine, your hips arching away. “I’m too sensitive.”
His hand left your heat, slick fingers dragging up your thighs, bunching in the skirt still gathered at your waist.
He hummed in consideration, evidently wrestling with himself. "How do you take this off?" he asked, hovering uncertainly over the fabric of the waistband.
The smile that hit your lips was genuine as you looked at him. "The zipper's on the side, you moron," you replied, pointing lazily to the concealed closure.
He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on your lips as his fingers grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down. His touch lingered on your skin, the kiss deepening. His name escaped you in a soft warning, prompting him to pull back, his lips parting from yours as he guided the fabric off, gently lifting your hips.
Gathering you into his arms, he held you close. "What's with all the tenderness, swordsman?" you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his neck. "I thought you only knew direct approaches."
"Careful, witch," he said, his tone somehow serious as he teased, his hands squeezing plush flesh as he buried his face in your hair. "If you keep this up, I'm bringing you back to bed."
Before you could offer a witty response, he gracefully lowered you into the welcoming embrace of the bathwater. Instantly, warmth enveloped you, coaxing the tension from your weary muscles. With a contented sigh, you reclined against the edge of the tub, allowing the soothing heat to work its magic.
As you relaxed, your gaze drifted to Zoro, who was now bending down to unlace his boots. The soft glow of the bathroom accentuated the contours of his muscular arms, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his skin. You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your features as you looked at the red marks plaguing his chest, his biceps. In that moment, he was nothing short of stunning, having you trapped and entranced as he undid his pants, kicked them off along with his boots.
“Scoot,” he demanded with a cock of his head, his earrings glinting in the movement.
You raised a brow at his tone but still you obliged, shifting over. The water rose around you as Zoro settled in behind you, his presence adding to the comforting embrace of the bath.
As he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, you didn’t resist as you backed into his hold, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that surrounded you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby, calming your mind for a flicker of an instant.
For a while, you simply reveled in the blissful stillness of the moment, the only sound the soft murmur of the water as his hand traced up and down your arm in a mindless pattern and the quiet exhales of contentment that escaped you.
“About Yokubari,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, laden with uncertainty.
You felt him tense behind you, his fingers coming to a halt. His lips brushed against the skin near your ear, a delicate, repentant gesture. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, his apology scarcely audible over the pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop.
You paused, grappling with the words on the tip of your tongue. “I won't deny that I'm still furious with you, Zoro,” you confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “But it wasn’t all you. I was tired and scared, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have left you alone with Yokubari like that, it was irresponsible on my part.”
There was a beat of silence, his lips trailing down your neck, over your shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left moments ago. His arms slid from the bath’s edge, sinking into the water and wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice grumbly and muffled against your skin. “You were right, I lost myself for an instant.”
You weren’t certain what it was you wanted to say, so you stayed quiet for a while. “Did you at least figure it out?” You asked eventually.
One of his hands traveled up from your stomach tracing the curve of your breast, playing with your nipple absentmindedly. The other went to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh, his thumb moving in light circles. You felt his teeth sink in your neck.
“I figured out what I needed to,” he muttered halfheartedly as he kissed the bite mark tenderly.
Your brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. You let your head fall on his chest as you looked up at him.
“What the fuck does that mean?” You pressed, your voice tinged with apprehension.
Zoro's grip tightened around you, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I meant... I learned enough to control it, to keep it from consuming me," he explained, his tone imbued with a mixture of reluctance and determination. "But whether I've completely figured it out... I haven’t." He paused, his gaze searching yours before he continued. "I tried figuring it out on the day you left but I haven’t touched it since. It felt wrong to handle it without you there. I gave you my word. I should have kept it better."
His hand traveled up, wrapping around your throat for a moment before turning your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips.
“You’re an idiot, swordsman,” your breath mingled with his.
His lips curved into a wry smile against yours, his grip gentle yet possessive as he deepened the kiss, seeking solace and reassurance in the warmth of your embrace. You sank into him, the tension of the past few days melting away with each caress, each shared breath.
“I am,” he admitted. His touch left your face, going back to your breast with more purpose, his hand inched towards your heat once again, eliciting a soft moan from you.
“And you’re insatiable,” you complained in a whine, one of your hands flying to the bath’s edge to find purchase, the other settled on his leg at your side, nails digging hard.
His fingers met your core, opened you up, “I know,” he said with satisfaction dripping in his tone at the reaction of your body.
Bonus scene:
Roronoa Zoro found himself facing the consequences of his actions. The realization dawned on him that he had indeed messed up…bad. He hadn’t anticipated you staying away for so long—a thought that seemed absurd now as he reflected on it. With closed eyes, he furrowed his brow, attempting to will himself to sleep, though slumber had eluded him ever since you departed. His jaw clenched, the memory of the hurt in your eyes flickered behind his eyelids, haunting him relentlessly.
The abrupt slam of the door shattered the fragile peace of his solitude, and he fought the instinct to flinch, hoping to be left alone a moment more.
“Good, you’re awake,” Nami stated, her perceptive gaze cutting through his feigned slumber. “Follow me.”
He reluctantly cracked an eye open, a scowl of irritation etching his features. “I’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled, but the determined look in Nami’s stare made him concede defeat before the battle had even begun.
“Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly rising to his feet.
His footsteps stopped in front of the establishment, the realization of what Nami was trying to achieve downing on him. Had he known that the navigator was going to drag him all the way to you, he would have undoubtedly put up more of a fight. He tried to turn away but her hand grabbed him hard, pulling him with her.
“Don’t come back until you’ve made up,” Nami urged, shoving him through the doorway of the bar. “I don’t know what you did, but apologize.”
With a pat on the back, she left him standing there, her words echoing in his mind.
He sighed, shifting uncertainly in the entryway, his gaze surveying the small, cozy space. Inevitably, he spotted you, leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation with someone he couldn’t quite see, a soft smile gracing your lips.
If he were honest, he had had every intention of apologizing in that moment. However, as he watched the young man lean closer to you, an unfamiliar pang of jealousy stirred within him. Rationality reminded him that you didn’t belong to him; you were your own person. Yet, as he witnessed the intimacy of the gesture, heard the clear din of your laughter ring through the chatter of the room, his frustration boiled dangerously. The countless apologies he had rehearsed over the past few days evaporated from his mind as he stormed to your side.
You had willfully ignored him from the moment you noticed his presence, your fury towards him still evident in the fire of your eyes. He sensed his own annoyance doubling at his inability to know how to handle the situation.
Yet, as your angry gaze had met his, he felt a rush of emotions flood over him—a mixture of longing and regret.
Damn it.
In the soft glow of the lanterns, you looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wanted nothing more than to pin you to that bar and kiss you dizzy. You snapped something at him, but he couldn't quite register the words amidst the whirlwind of unknown reactions coursing through him.
Before you could escape him again, he grasped your hand. A possessive hold that was unlike him.
“We’re going back to the ship,” He said, his voice feeling far away, as though it was someone else’s. Hell, even he realized how ridiculous he sounded when the words left his lips.
Fuck.
He didn’t even know how to get back to the ship.
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Masterlist
#the swordsman and the blacksmith#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x y/n#one piece x reader#zoro x reader#charlou writes
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Corruption: Intro.
Pairings: Yandere!Taehyung x Reader || Jimin x Reader
Genre: Yandere, Romance (?), Psychological, Angst, Smut
Disclaimer: I do not condone, nor support or encourage anything I write in this fanfiction. It is purely fiction, means of entertainment, and should be treated as such. I do not think any of the BTS members would act remotely anything like what is represented here, which is why it’s called fiction. Other than that, please enjoy, and read at your own discretion.
Trigger warnings and Tags; +18, Yandere elements, Possessive and Obsessive behaviors, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy idealization, Drug and Substance Abuse, Mommy/Daddy Issues, Slow Burn, Smut (in future chapters), Artist!Tae, Rich!Tae, Lowkey SugarDaddy!Tae, BDSM, Power Dynamics, Manipulation, Slight age difference, Naive!Reader, Easy to Manipulate!Reader, Virgin!Reader, Virginity Kink, Corruption kink.. (There’s gonna be a LOT of kinks in here for further chapters, so I’ll save the wall of text LOL.)
Intro Part. 1 Part. 2 Part. 3 Part. 4 Part. 5
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Boring, he thought.
Everything about this stupid fucking event was excruciatingly boring.
First off, he didn't even want to be here. His mother forced him to come, practically dragging him outside by his own ear.
"If you still want me to sponsor your pathetic little project, it'd be smart of you to come along with me this evening." Ah yes, the typical threats of estranging him financially in hopes of him spending time with her. Typical Mrs. Kim.
The outing was a simple event where selected students who had won his fathers Academic Scholarship were rewarded a ‘party’ for their hard work and efforts. The scholarship was offered to college students who managed to make the highest ranking grades throughout their entire university. Impressive, to say the least, which is why each student present was granted $45,000 USD straight towards their college funds.
That sort of funding was simply pocket change for a man like his father.
His father was the CEO of Kim’s Legal Law Firm. It happens to be the third largest law firm in the country. Taehyung’s father has a tender soft spot for college students, especially ones who attend the same school he graduated from. Which is why he did events like this yearly, specifically for them.
But Taehyung? He could give two shits about a "Scholarly Party". He wasn't in school, nor did he want to be tied down by the ropes of education ever again. High School was more than enough, and that was years ago. He barely graduated. Though, after having his parents ``talk" to the principal of his private school, he suddenly went from having a D grade point average, to being at the top of his class in under an hour. He remembers clearly how Kim Namjoon glared daggers in his skull when he walked up the stairs leading to the stage at their highschool graduation, accepting his honors award that rightfully belonged to him instead. Taehyung couldn't really blame him, either. He'd be pissed off too if someone's rich parents paid off a school to make their irresponsible child graduate, whilst stealing his honors award that would've surely benefited him if he tried to enroll in college.
Taehyung wasn't stupid by all means, no. He was actually pretty fucking smart. It's just he hates doing work, and he hates being told what to do. So instead of attending classes, doing homework, and going to exam days; he skipped classes to smoke weed, do things he wasn't supposed to do, and fuck around. What was stopping him? Surely not his parents. They barely bat an eye when he stayed away from home for days on end when he was only 15 years old. He remembers walking in after being away for 5 days straight to his dad barely sparing him a glance, and his mother wrapping herself up in a scarf so she could go out for the night. She walked right past him, not saying a word.
Easy to say that his parents had their priorities straightened out already, and Taehyung wasn't one of them. But he doesn't care.
Or that's what he tries to tell himself when he has emotional outbursts, or when he gets arrested for DUIs, or when he gets questioned for being under the influence, and more outlandish things his parents had authorities shove under a rug.
His parents had money and generational wealth. Taehyung could do anything, say anything, and be whatever he wanted. So who cares if his parents were a little emotionally unavailable? He didn't care. Nope. Not at all. Not one bit.
But sometimes, just, sometimes, he finds himself yearning for motherly love. He finds himself wishing he had a father to look up to, instead of the stone cold businessman his own father was.
He desperately wanted to be loved by someone.
And he hated that feeling. It made him feel weak.
The feeling that gnawed at the emptiness inside of his own chest. The empty void that hurts and caves into himself whenever he sees someone receive the unconditional love he could only wish for.
Oh, how he wanted someone to love.
To hold, to cherish, to smother with affection, to be loyal to and never let go.
Never let go.
Taehyung has had his fair share of relationships, of course. He was pretty, tantalizing, rich, and he likes to think of himself as quite the charmer.
Those relationships weren’t too serious or noteworthy, honestly. Most of the women he dated were trophy girlfriends his friends set him up with. Most just dated him for status, sex, and money. Surprisingly, he had no problem with this.
It's just how the world works, isn't it?
No matter how pretty or sweet, though, he's never fallen in love with any of those women.
He's never been in love at all.
He’s felt the intense feelings of infatuation and lust, but none of those feelings lasted for more than 2 weeks. He often finds himself getting bored of the same repetitive types of women that came into his life.
There were two categories of women that Kim Taehyung seems to attract.
One being the typical spoiled woman with daddy’s black card. This type didn’t need him at all for financial reasons, they were set for life, and possibly even the afterlife. They always had a certain aura to them, that look in their eyes, that pep in the way they walk. All of which seems to remind him of his own mother. Yeah, he knows it’s weird. It’s weird to date women that remind you of your mother, but Taehyung was the farthest thing from normal.
What did Sigmund Freud say? Taehyung would think about the little bit of psychology knowledge he gained when he used to half pay attention in class often. Something about how mommy issues can lead down an unhealthy path of romantic relationships if not addressed in therapy, and so on. He thought it was quite interesting how he felt called out at that moment, which is why psychology became one of his favorite subjects while he was still in school. He may have skipped a lot, but when he was there, he tried to pay attention to the lectures.
The second category of women who Taehyung attracts were models. Not the runway, nepo baby models everyone sees on social media. No, not those.
The models who were oh so pretty, but also had that vacant lost look in their eyes. They were signed to agencies who barely let them on the runway. Not because of their looks, but because of their raging reliance on drugs and substances. The walking stereotype of a ‘The Weeknd’ song is how he would describe these women.
These women were with him for a completely different reason than the others.
Taehyung was a bit guilty when it came to having a “hero complex”. He isn’t a saint by any means; he’s done his fair share of substances. He was peer pressured to do a lot of things when he was younger.
Though, whenever he gets with these women, his goal is to “fix” them by giving them endless attention, affection, and care. He was always there when they went through withdrawals, when they were puking into plastic bags because they failed to eat prior to drowning themselves in narcotics and powder. He would rub their backs, help them take a cold shower, fix them soup, and hold them until they fell asleep.
Taehyung had a soft spot for these women. Because he understands.
He understood the pain. The desperation to feel nothing.
To fill that empty void with something. Something.
These women were crying for help, so why not help them?
It filled him with a sense of importance after helping these women get clean. It was like he was healing his inner child in a sick, twisted way. Though, like most things, those relationships came to an end.
Although it was never really his fault these relationships would end.
He was too “demanding”, “controlling”, “possessive”, he’s been told by most, if not all, of the women he’s been involved with.
They never truly accepted him for who he was. They were the foolish ones, not him.
If they just understood him, if they would just understand.
Which is why he’s never fallen in love before.
That was the ‘love’ life of Kim Taehyung. It was sad and depressing, but it’s something he had to get used to. It was all he was ever exposed to growing up. It was all he knew.
Maybe one day, things would be different. Happen differently.
Perhaps, authentically, unlike his past.
Perhaps he could fall in love.
He dreamed about such things. It would keep him up at night with a beating heart.
He was a disgusting hopeless romantic.
“Are you paying attention?” Taehyung quickly blinked out of his short-lived daze and cocked his head down towards the voice. It was his mother, looking at him with those judgemental eyes he once used to hide from. Now, it doesn’t scare him anymore.
But it made him feel significantly small nonetheless.
God, he hated being here. It was so tacky.
Everyone was instructed to wear white. Though Taehyung, obviously, chose to be a little shit to piss off his mom and wore a black turtleneck, with a black blazer and even blacker slacks. His black hair was styled to where his fringe was covering most of his forehead, and slightly his eyes which were a light gray today, due to his contacts. Black on black.
He nodded his head towards his mother, ushering her to continue on with what she was saying even though he dissociated for most of it.
Something he learned how to do at a very young age with ease.
“As I was saying,” she snapped, “your father wants you to greet some of the students. It would be beneficial for you to ask questions about college life, possibly even make some new friends tonight," Taehyung groaned internally, rolling his eyes in a way that his mother wouldn’t catch on. Here comes the “you need to go to school and study” talk. He would always shut it down. He’s 27 years old, too old to even be considered a senior at this point.
To please his mother and to make her stop talking, he walked away from the railing he was leaning on and looked down into his wine glass, swirling it around to watch the red liquid create ripples.
Looking up, he immediately spots his father speaking to what he presumes to be a student. The student was dressed in a plain, silky short back-out white gown with spaghetti straps.
With her rear side facing his direction, it was hard to make out what the conversation was about. Maybe his father was being the creep he always was when it came to hanging around girls decades younger than him.
He can usually tell by the look in his fathers eyes, which seemed innocent to others, but Taehyung knew better than that. He knew his father well, even if he had no desire to.
But all he could think about was how enticing she looked, even from behind where her face was hidden. The curve of her torso allowed the silky dress to hug her body perfectly, creating a silhouette that would give any Greek sculpture a run for its money. Dragging his eyes up and down her figure, he finds himself absentmindedly outlining the perimeter of her body with his irises, imprinting it into his own memory.
Taehyung had an excellent photographic memory.
It was strange, really. He was never someone to be enticed by “energy”, and he was never one to approach women. Not that he didn’t want to, it’s just that he didn’t have to. Any woman he was interested in came to him first without fail. But something was pulling him forward, beckoning him to approach the mysterious girl.
Which is exactly what he did.
His steps were calculated, precise. Making good first impressions was a piece of cake for Kim Taehyung, something he was often praised for from time to time. Which is probably the reason why his parents forced him to come to this tedious event. They used him as the token golden boy, utilizing his charms and making him talk to perverted, older guests that came to their events, hoping that he’d win their favor in exchange that his father gets to strengthen his connections. They started doing this when he turned 18, making use of his good looks and people skills.
Earning his parents' respect as their son isn’t easy. Especially a son who belonged to the Kim family. He had to attend the same university as his father, and to not make a mockery out of the family name. In which, he failed to do both. Saying he has their respect now is a stretch, but they found him to be useful when it came to winning over disgusting old CEOs and Chaebols.
His brother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He graduated from university with high honors, even went ahead and attended graduate school as well, then he went to law school. He completed all of this by the time he turned 30.
Taehyung appreciates that his brother took up all the responsibility, and the burden of expectations off of his shoulders.
However,
Deep inside, real deep inside, he could only dream of being the center of his parents' life the way Seokjin was. They loved him. Doted on him. Spoiled him. Gave him all the extra love and affection that should’ve gone to Taehyung instead.
As a teenager, he was resentful towards his brother for the obvious showcase of favoritism his parents did. They didn’t even try to hide it. They would compare the two any chance they got; rubbing in the accomplishments of his elder brother in his face, reminding him that he will amount to nothing in life.
Nothing but a burnt out artist, is what his father says.
But whatever, Taehyung didn’t care. Not one bit.
“Hello, son,” His father greeted him once he noticed Taehyung's formidable figure saunter over, the tone of his voice evidently curt and strict in contrast to the lighthearted conversation he was having with the young lady.
Ah, great. It was just as he guessed. His father was being a creep, and was actively flirting with this poor girl. Good thing Taehyung was here to save her from his fathers inappropriate stares and invasive questions.
Sparing his father a tight lipped smile, he walks past the young lady to align himself right next to his father, finally.
Finally, he could see her face.
And wow.
Everything around him became blurred, every sound that tried to meet his ears became all jumbled together, like indecipherable radio signals.
All he could focus on was you.
You.
You.
With his unexpected appearance, you instinctively looked up at him, his gray eyes meeting your own. He tilted his head to the side and gave you a cheeky grin, in which you reciprocated with your own, skittish smile.
That smile.
He’ll never forget a smile like that, that’s for sure.
The apples of your cheeks were rosy with dew and the afterglow of being in such a warm venue. Taehyung thought the sight of it was absolutely breathtaking.
His gray eyes stayed on yours, unwavering. He intensely scanned your face, jotting down each little detail into his mind.
Noticing the fervor of his gaze, you tore your eyes away from the fervent unwarranted stare-off and looked down at your feet, your face flushing with heat.
Aw.
He wanted to look into your eyes for a little bit longer.
But that’s okay, he’ll get your attention one way or another.
After all, he just couldn’t help himself.
Your face was just his type.
Would it be a stretch for him to say everything about the way you look was just his type? Perhaps, but Taehyung was known for moving extremely fast.
In more ways than one.
“I’d like for you to meet Ms.____,” his father uttered out your first name. It sounded like a symphony to Taehyung's ears. A pretty face and a pretty name, huh.
How unfair.
Your name began to replay like a broken record inside of his head. Sounding out each syllable internally, his tongue dragged across the side of his cheek before testing the name out loud in a hushed whisper.
The way your name began to reiterate persistently in his head – It would drive any sane person crazy.
Good thing Taehyung was the latter.
“Well, Ms.___,” Taehyung scooped up your hand into his own, hoping the abrupt swift action will bless him with your soft gaze once again.
And it did.
With wide eyes, your neck nearly snapped as you rose your head from its previous position of looking down. You stared at him with big doe eyes, confusion swirling in your irises.
That expression on your face was dangerous.
Especially for a man like him.
He brought your delicate hand up towards his red tinted lips, all while maintaining eye contact. He could feel you trembling in the palm of his hand.
What were you doing to him?
He felt slightly bewitched by you. He’s met his fair share of gorgeous women. Hell, he’s even met some of the world's most infamous models.
But none of them compared to you.
None of them had this effect on him.
None of them took his breath away like this.
None of them at all.
He placed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, a mellow smile spreading across his face when his lips met your soft, warm skin.
“It’s a pleasure, pretty girl,” He whispered loud enough for you to hear, his breath fanning onto the skin of your hand.
He slowly backed away, not letting your hand go just yet, leading it downwards but still holding it firm in his grip. He had to savor your reaction before he retracts completely.
He could tell you were wary with the sudden public display of affection, especially right in front of his own father. But truly, Taehyung didn’t give a fuck. He was someone who didn’t care if anyone was watching, especially his own father. Social anxiety or upholding social status wasn’t something for him to worry about.
And you’ll come to find that out very soon.
Sooner than you think.
Your eyes glossy, blown out, and your mouth was slightly gaped open from shock; it sent a concealed chill down his spine. Was a pretty girl like you not used to such things? The thought alone baffled him.
Impossible, he thought.
“U-uh–,” you stammered out incohesive words, your eyes darting between him and his father, worry, confusion, and conflicting attraction clear in your eyes. It was cute, how worried you got over something as small as a hand kiss.
“Nice… to meet you too? Mister…” you were dodging every attempt at eye contact Taehyung was throwing your way, but he wasn’t having it. Wherever you looked, his head would follow with a tilt and a smirk, teasing you in a playful way you weren’t used to.
“Taehyung, but for you? My name can be whatever your heart desires.”
He’s used that cringy pick-up line many times. Most of the time it was just to please the other person, give them something they want to hear. Usually never what he wanted.
But he meant it when he said it to you.
That same, irresistible nervous smile crept back onto your face at his words. Your neck once again flushing hot. This time, though, your eyes were focused on how his hand was still grasping yours.
Taehyung took this as an opportunity to grab another reaction out of you, he began rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.
At this, you jumped softly, clearly not used to someone touching you like this.
Or touching you at all.
And for some reason, that thought alone excited him like nothing else.
Suddenly, Taehyung felt his fathers hand creep onto his shoulder.
Unexpectedly this annoyed him.
More than it usually does.
“It seems like you are already acquainting yourself with Miss.___,” his father spoke in a way that seemed placate to others, but Taehyung knew better. He was being a passive aggressive shithead.
“Oh you know, just doing what you wanted me to, Father,” Taehyung quickly retorted back, a tight smile forming on his lips.
His father had the nerve to get pissy as if he didn’t force him to attend this mundane event in the first place? Yeah, sure, Taehyung was grabbing the attention of the girl his father was openly flirting with, but didn’t he see how uncomfortable you were?
He could tell how tense the mood was when he got closer to the two of you earlier. The way you were holding your left arm with your right hand, folding into yourself as his father got closer and closer to your personal bubble.
You clearly weren’t interested.
At Taehyung’s smart aleck comment, his father shot him a look that only he caught, and walked away slowly after retracting his hand from his shoulder.
It was better to not make a scene where people were watching. His father was extremely anal on how he was perceived; he wanted others to see him in a specific type of light. He was probably on his way to bother some other college student, anyway. Either way, Taehyung was glad he left.
Finally, old fuck.
It’s about damn time he developed erectile dysfunction or something, how old is he again?
Regrouping himself, he finally let it sink in that you two were finally alone.
Finally,
“Oh god, did I,” you stammered, “did I just make it really awkward? Oh my god.”
How peculiar. It was obvious that his father was the one who ruined the mood to begin with, but you resorted to blaming yourself instead.
How peculiar.
“Sorry I’m just not, you know… used to this,” you gestured your free hand around the venue you two were currently in the middle of. Everything was glistening with marble, glitter, blinding shades of white, and overly priced furniture. To anyone not used to such a lifestyle, it would of course be overwhelming.
But to Taehyung, it just seemed tacky.
Tacky and distasteful.
If it were up to him, the whole idea of everything being white would be thrown out the window.
What’s up with rich people and their odd obsession with things white and marbley?
“Not used to try-hard rich people and their shitty interior designing?” Taehyung quipped, a smirk present on his lips as he raised his wine glass for a sip.
“What?! No! No. I, well… no!” the screws in your head were visibly malfunctioning, fighting with each other, trying to decide whether or not you should directly insult the interior of the venue right in front of him. Given the fact that he was the son of the man who invited you to such an event, and granted you a scholarship.
And possibly the son of the man who came up with the interior design of everything you’re looking at.
A chuckle rumbled in Taehyung's chest as he watched your internal and outward struggle. He could tell by the quick glint in your eyes that you agreed with him, but were too afraid to say something that would cause conflict. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his wine glass once again to his lips, taking a swig of it while he looked you up and down over the rim.
To his surprise, you still haven’t retracted your hand from his.
Lowering his drink, his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek once again out of habit.
You still weren’t looking at him.
“You know, it’s rude to refuse eye contact, pretty girl,” he said matter-of- factly in a teasing tone, fauxing disappointment.
“Oh,” you breathed out, clearly flustered at the recurring pet name and with the fact that he just called out your inability to maintain eye contact.
With hesitancy, you looked up at him, your eyes shifting left and right a few times before settling on his intense gray orbs.
It seemed to have surprised you that he was staring at you intensely this whole time because the moment your eyes connected with his, your body shifted. To his disappointment, you slowly retracted your hand from his, putting it back to your side.
With his now free hand, Taehyung lifted it towards your face. And like any normal person, you flinched and moved backwards a bit. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Cute.
But, he couldn’t hold himself back.
He had to do something.
He tested the waters first, nudging his fingers against your jaw, caressing the outline of the bone before cupping your right cheek. His hand gently melts onto your warm, soft skin. He looks at you intently, deep in thought.
You were so beautiful.
Dangerously so. Taehyung wasn’t the type to be bewitched like this.
His fingers caressed your warm face, your wide eyes trembling at him with uncertainty, confusion. He dragged his thumb from your cheek down to the supple lumps of your lips. He began gliding the digit left and right on your bottom lip before slowly pulling down on the muscle, revealing just a peak of your bottom teeth and the soft wet flesh on the inside, your gums a pretty pink.
Even with all of this going on, he still maintained eye contact with you. His gaze never wavering.
And his mind began to wander.
It began to wander to menacing thoughts.
Taehyung was known for having… an acquired taste, when it came to certain things. He’s been told so by many women in his life. It’s not like he wanted to like those things, it just happened by default. Things that excite him, that shouldn’t excite him. Things that he likes to do to others, to the people he’s interested in. Things such as bending and twisting them at his will, pulling a leg here, doing a thing there, just to pull a reaction out of them. He knew such things were red flags, concerning even. But if it was between two consenting adults, what was the problem?
Which is why he began to envision this woman he just met a few minutes ago sucking on his thumb. He imagined the look you would have in your eyes; innocent, glossy, excited, scared, unsure. He imagined the soft, spongy texture of your tongue, slick on his finger, how you’d open up for him like a good girl. And those eyes. They were dangerous, Taehyung decided. Looking at them for too long already had him spiraling with these thoughts.
You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?
Like a twig, he snapped out of his daze. His eyes finally focusing on you quickly taking a step back, wiping away the inkling of spit that dripped out of your mouth as a result of your bottom lip being pried open. With a red face, you looked at him, completely disoriented and confused.
Taehyung didn’t even notice the wetness on his thumb, or the spittle that trickled down the digit onto his knuckle.
Ah, oops.
“W-what was that-,” you stuttered out, your hand clasping against your mouth in shock, eyes frantically looking around, relief sagging on your shoulders when you noticed no one was looking. But there was a cloud hanging over your head, weighing down on you.
A cloud you didn’t quite understand.
Just yet.
“Become my muse.”
“What-,” You blinked at him, completely caught off guard.
“Let me paint you. Be my muse.” He cut you off before you could question him any further.
Taehyung had already made up his mind the moment he set eyes on you. Even when your back was facing him; he already knew what he wanted.
And Taehyung was a man known for getting exactly what he wanted.
#bts yandere#male yandere#taehyung#yandere taehyung#yandere#yandere x reader#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#bts fic#yandere bts x reader#kim taehyung#taehyung fanfiction
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« chapter two. menu. chapter four. »
UNEDITED.
"This is really fucking stupid, you know." Y/N voiced her concerns as she and Megumi ran through the Innate Domain, the ravenette, sending his Divine Dog to seek out Kugisaki.
"It's better than you taking that thing by yourself. Itadori has some control over Sukuna, I have faith in him."
The girl grumbled under her breath at the sorcerer's condemnation and lack of faith in her. She was the grade one here, not Itadori, "I can handle myself, thank you."
Fushiguro scoffed before he outstretched his arm, grabbing Y/Ns wrist and pulling her back against him, catching the clan member off guard as she looked back at him, startled, "Nue!"
A large bird erupted from his shadow, scooping the ravenette by his collar. Y/N let out a surprised squeak as Fushiguro hoisted her up by her torso, her arms unconsciously wrapped around his neck as she stared down with wide eyes, "I'm afraid of heights!"
"I know your face now. I swear I'll curse you!" Nobara exclaimed as she hung upside down in the grasp of a large curse, her finger pointed accusingly at it.
Her neat brows furrowed as the curse lowered her into its mouth, she was seconds away from getting eaten alive. A noisy yelp left her lips when a slimy, long tongue wrapped around her, pulling her from the curses grasp right before a harsh punch made it stumble back right into the upcoming attack of a large white snake.
"Ugh, Fushiguro! You said you'd let me kill them!" The ginger found herself inside the mouth of a frog, a fatigued expression finding its way onto her face as she peered out the shikigamis mouth. A slightly bloodied Y/N pouted, arms crossing over her chest as she looked over the slim worn-out face of the other sorceress.
"We don't have time. We're escaping."
"I hate frogs, you know..." An irk mark had formed on the man's forehead as he pondered on what exactly he did to get paired up with two unbelievable individuals...and not to forget Itadori, "Yeah, well, sorry!"
"Y/N, lets go. You're both injured—"
"Give me 15 seconds." Said girl stated, tone unwaivering, making it clear there was absolutely no room for interjections. It wasn't like she had even given the poor shikigami user a chance to even blink before appearing in front of the curses with immense speed, so fast the two other first years could hardly register her change in position.
He watched in awe for those full 15 seconds as the Tsukuyomi gracefully obliterated the four curses with swift and quick motions, not a drop of blood had gotten on her uniform, further spoiling it, and not a single scratch or mark had found itself on her delicate, [S/C] skin.
Not even a bead of sweat dripped down her forehead with each powerful punch and kick, further empowered by the moons lunar energy she sent the curses way. Her breathing never labored, footing never faltered, and she never hasitated. She made it seem...so easy.
"If I wasn't on the brink of passing out, I'd fangirl." Nobara weakly muttered, earning a chuckle from her classmate as she turned around, "I've got you." Were the last words the brown eyed girl heard before her consciousness finally slipped, alarming Megumi who was standing next to her, "Don't fret. I'm making it easier for her and me."
"What- What do you mean?"
"It's easier to use revere cursed technique on someone who's unconscious, they don't interrupt anything."
"Please expand the evacuation area to ten kilometers." Ijichi nodded at the 'Zenins' order, his hand shifting to start the car as Y/N got out of it, carefully laying Nobaras bandaged head on the makeshift cushion from the Tsukuyomis uniform jacket, "What about you two?"
"We'll wait here for Itadori to return." Dark eyes, covered by the thick glass of his bifocals scanned the two sorcerers, one payed him full attention as the other stared up into the sky, watching with interest as the veil Ijichi had put up shift. The elder man sighed, "After I take Kugisaki to the hospital, I'll return as quickly as possible."
"No, there wouldn't be much point in you staying here," Fushiguro countered, making his superior grimace at his brute bluntness, "If you want to do something, ask them to send over a sorcerer grade one or higher. Though I imagine none are around." He crossed his arms, green eyes glancing at the female next to him, Is she really a grade one sorcerer? I was too shocked to register her powers back then.
After Ijichi agreed to the first year's request he quickly drove off. The shikigami user turned around in the direction of the detention center, his gaze hard as it bore into the old building. If the worst happens...then it's my responsibility to end him.
A quiet, bored hum escaped Y/N, "Send a grade one or higher over? I'm hurt, Zenin." The girl feigned offense as a smug look graced her features.
"If you're a grade one then why didn't you excorsise it?" Fushiguro countered, his arms crossing over his chest as he sent a scowl her way.
"Like you and Itadori gave me the chance?" With the roll of his eyes, Megumi quickly dismissed the petty banter, already fed up with his classmates attitude. They really couldn't get along for even a second?
The girl shook her head with a bored sigh, gaze shifted upwards toward the moon, clouds and raindrops hiding its gleam. Green eyes found themselves on said girl, his gaze skimmed up and down before it landed on her side profile. He absolutely hated to admit that he admired the sight. The way her eyes reflected the lunar light, the way the drops of rain pattered onto her face before they slid down her jaw while some clung to her long, full lashes. The tip of her nose was rosy and lips puckered in a thoughtful way.
"You always stare at the moon." Fushiguro had to hold back from slapping himself when he realized he unconsciously commented.
"It's pretty, no?" The temptress answered, eyelashes bat softly as she turned to look at the man, "Yeah...it is..." He replied, almost sounding out of breath, a brow raised when Tsukuyomi acknowledged his uncharacteristic demeanour.
"You good—" The feeling of a weight being lifted off their shoulders graced the two, stopping Y/N mid sentence, both sorcerers returned their gazes to the building far away, "Oh? The Innate Domains out." Megumi nodded, "Seems the special grade's dead. Now we just need Itadori to return safely—"
A familiar feeling of fear quickly paralyzed the two, the moment they could finally relax had gotten spoiled by an unknown deep voice from behind them, "Sorry, but he's not coming back."
The Tsukuyomi was first to turn around, brows furrowed at the sigh of Yujis marked body. A feeling of familiarity washed over her, her heart stopping in her chest as crimson eyes met with hers, thick brows quirked upwards as Sukuna took notice of Y/Ns presence.
"Oh, don't be so frightened. I'm in a good mood right now. Let's chat for a bit." He nonchalantly stated, walking around from Megumis back as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, "This is what he gets for trying to use me without any of if pact. Feels like he's having some trouble switching back."
Sukuna's hands emerged from his pockets to grip onto Yujis school uniform, "Still though...it's only a matter of time." He stated before the sound of fabric ripping blended into the pattering of raindrops hitting the ground.
"So...I thought about what I can do right now." The pinkette lifted his marked hand, placing it near his chest. Audible gasps left the two sorcerers, Y/N had outstretched her hand to stop him but his long fingers had already collided within his chest, blood splurged out of the wound and escaping the smug smile on his lips.
"Wh-What are you..."
The crimson liquid puddled at the curses feet before he finally ripped his hand out of his chest to reveal the vital organ in his grasp, still pumping desperately, "Im taking this brat hostage."
The Tsukuyomi cringed in horror at the unpleasant sight, her trembling hand clasped over her mouth to suppress the gags that so desperately wanted to escape her.
"I can live without this, but that ain't true for the brat," Sukuna states, crimson irises met with green ones before they landed on a pair of [E/C] filled with disgust and terror, his smirk widened at the lovely sight he missed so much; it brought him back to the days of his reigning terror on Japan. He quickly threw the fragile heart to the side, "Switching out with me mean ge dies. Also...for good measures." Sukuna opened his fist to reveal the familiar pruny dark purple cursed object, he carefully placed it onto his tongue before eagerly swallowing, relishing in the taste and surge of power.
"With that, I'm free as a bird. You can be frightened now. I'll kill you!" He chimed in mocking excitement as the two high schoolers shifted their feet, widening their stances to prepare for any attack. Sukuna skimmed over the clan members, intrigued, his gaze finally stilled when he met the usual [E/C] irises, now glinting with an angry red.
"Interesting." He moved behind her in the blink of an eye, his bloodied hand had moved her hair out of the back of her neck to reveal exactly what he had expected, a red moon shaped marking.
[E/C] eyes went wide before quickly covering the sight of her neck with her hand, the other wrapping around Sukunas wrist, "The fuck do you think you're doing?" her voice was a breathy mutter, too many feelings and emotions stirred inside her to actually comprehend the overwhelming and sudden attachment she felt towards the curse.
Her eyes shone with an unfamiliar glint, almost as if they weren't her own, it seemed as though the moon had found its way to her large irises for a quick second, before vanishing, further confirming The King of Curses suspicion.
"So you were worthy..." his dark, velvety voice sent shivers through the two sorcerers. Sukuna changed his position at the same speed as last time, now fully facing the confused girl, with his wrist out of her grasp. He extended a long finger, its sharp nail traced the jaw that clenched with tension, "I'd be delighted to see what's so special about you."
The two sorcerers stood alarmed at his absurd way of speaking to Y/N, making absolutely no sense to them.
Megumi's hands slowly formed the sign of a shadow puppet, his stance widened as he was just about to unleash his shikigami until squinted red eyes met with his green ones.
"Too bad I won't be able to retrieve you, Kaguya. This vessel will die soon." Something stirred inside the [H/C]-nette at Sukunas odd words, why was be spewing nonsense upon nonsense, specifically directed toward her. Her gaze hardened as she slipped away from the curse with almost the equivalent speed as Sukunas. Y/N now stood right next to her defensive classmate.
"You just don't get it. Itadoris coming back. Even if it means he'll die. Thats just who he is."
Sukunas chest rumbled with a dark chuckle before taunting the ravenette about how he gave his friend too much credit; just a moment ago he had been scared out if his mind, on the verge of death, and prattling on about his regrets.
Narrowed eyes focused on the well built and marked man, he noted his wrist had been restored fully. Sukuna was incarnated — even if he can live without a heart, it should still be damaging. If Megumi wanted to somehow convince the cursed spirit to heal the organ before Yuji returned; he'd have to make Ryomen Sukuna believe he can't beat him without a heart in his body.
Can I do that...? The memory of freezing at the mere sight of the special grade replayed in his mind, if he couldn't move in its presence how could he possibly fight The King?
A dried, bloody hand was placed reassuringly on his bicep, giving it a small squeeze as if to remind him that he, first; is not alone, and second; it's not a matter of whether he can do it, he has to do it! And since the warm gesture had come from someone that had despised him and he had despised, it gave him a bit of confidence.
His shaking hands form into the sign of a bird, a large gingery-brown feathered creature emerged from his shadow. Y/N followed with her own, the girl whispered under her breath, barely audible — to the point even Megumi couldn't hear, "Special Cursed Technique: Copy: "Infinity.""
TO BE CONTINUED...
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A/N: two chapters till the end of the week just like promised!!
#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#jjk#jjk x reader#angst#jjk x y/n#megumi angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#anime x reader#anime#jjk x you#megumi fanfic#megumi jjk#megumi jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk anime#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen anime#gojo satoru#yuji itadori#nobara kugisaki#RED MOON by mdmraz#raz writes!
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