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ittybittyfanblog · 1 month ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry. (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment.

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream.

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off.

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black.

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications.

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending.

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts.

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

… You cave on the fifth day.

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment]

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours.

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me.

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word.

Dont shut me out.

Please.

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams.

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them.

You set your phone down.

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops.

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered.

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb.

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling.

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out.

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space.

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then.

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow grey.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll.

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will.

––––

“Hey, you okay?”

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Anytime, darling.

I mean it.

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?”

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store.

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath.

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent.

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain.

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor.

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back.

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most.

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make.

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes.

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button.

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless.

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision.

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized.

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing.

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does.

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope?

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far.

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin.

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red.

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark.

And unread mail. So much unread mail.

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you.

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you.

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being.

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps.

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red.

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues:

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating.

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you?

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break.

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you.

You’re afraid of what’ll come next.

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him.

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you.

As if he’d allow such a thing.

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

…

And just like that, he concedes.

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other.

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even.

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?”

“Of course.” Whatever you want.

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head.

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart.

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound.

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him.

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other.

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact.

You��re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched.

“My lo—”

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.”

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt.

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?”

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?”

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine.

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily.

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke.

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption.

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks.

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape.

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling.

I love you.

I love you in ways that consume me.

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you.

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.”

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop.

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading.

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone.

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.”

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise.

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?”

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did.

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his.

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.”

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time.

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent.

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating.

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you.

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours.

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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defmaybe · 5 months ago

Text

Excel

aespa's Ning Yizhuo/Ningning x Male Reader

1.4k words

Prequel to [AER-698] My Boss(?) Loves My Ass So Much She Puts Her Tongue on It, Then She Fucks Me in the Ass Like I’m Her Cockslut and Make Me Cum!

A/N: Dubious consent y’all, proceed with caution. You know who’s going to be the receiving end of this. Also, this is pretty much a bfh lol. A bit rushed towards the end, sorry. Thanks for reading!!!

—

“Tsk, slut.”

The words leave Yizhuo’s lips as she locks her tongue with yours. Her hands wander on your body—chest, the flat abs, waist. She’s frisky.

“Do you really think–hmph–you can just walk around for years–mmm–with that—” says Yizhuo muffled, as she grabs your firm ass, forcing some submission into you that you let out as a moan “—every single fucking day and–mmh–expect to just get away with it!”

You aren’t quite sure how it happened, really. One second, you were merely strolling in the SM building’s hallway, papers and such in your hand. And another, a tug on your collar dragged you into the files room, with the sounds of the door shutting and a lock clicking.

You can’t, you can’t just let go right now, with the storm of pleasure raging within.

“M–Miss Ning, I–I don’t think–mmmph–this is appropriate!” you grasp onto any bit of your inhibition that hasn’t been scared away by Yizhuo yet. You fail, and you fail.

Back leaning against the cold wall.

“Shut up, will ya?” Her hands tug the collar of your shirt, creasing it. “If you aren’t going to say those witty shits, then just be a good boy, and let me do whatever the fuck I want with you, alright?”

You whimper in her grip and her stern stare, trying to catch those stolen breaths at the same time. But isn’t she an impatient figure, as she seals your tired mouth with hers once again?

Sweet.

Strawberry.

Her tongue easily defeats yours and explores your mouth. You are struggling to find your rhythm under her aggression. “You taste good, baby–mmph. Hope it’s like this for the whole package.”

“T–Thanks, Miss Ning. I–I still don’t think we should do it h–here,” you stammer.

She pulls back from the fiery kiss. “And fucking leave me to my vibrator at the dorm? No, you’re my slut today, baby,” she wags her finger.

She then continues, “You know, me and Aeri have been doing this little ranking for the male staffs at the end of every single year, in fucking Excel like those Reddit perverts do. Do you know who has been holding the number one spot for best ass, four years straight?” Ningning asks, staring into your eyes with blazing determination.

You know that it’s you—the question being asked in such a situation. But you just don’t have the heart to be a cocky cunt in front of this ethereal idol.

“Wh–Who, who?” you stutter out, shaken. Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead.

Yizhuo gives your ass a smack, leaving you tensed under her touch. It’s quick, but it stings hard. She sneers, “Hoo? Hoo? Are you a fucking owl or something, dumbass,” as she crashes her lips back onto yours again.

She grips onto your ass, and her grip keeps getting tighter and tighter. “Good thing they are soft to touch,” whispers Yizhuo.

She keeps squeezing your cheeks, the softness of them spilling off her fingers through your tight jeans made just to—well, without your willingness—show off your supple rear.

“I mean, there’s the factor of, mmph–”

She keeps her wordy assertions sheathed in between the kisses.

“–you staying here since your intern days, proximity stuff, you know? But god–”

It works—well, to be fair, you’ve never been quite a dominant person yourself.

“–too bad I forgot my strap at the dorm, or you’d be moaning like a slut right now.”

A moan leaves your lips—a loss of control.

“Take your pants off.”

You comply on a whim, nodding profusely. There’s nothing you can do to resist her burning desire right now. You slide your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and your erection springs out for her in full glory.

“Hmm, hmm, good boy~” she says with a smirk, examining your cock as she reveals the bare skin behind the black shorts as well. And upon the sight, you fall to your knees, tongue falling out of your needy mouth.

And that’s just her panties, not talking about her heavenly cunt yet, so—just her thighs.

“Me and Aeri have talked so many times on how submissive you’d be for me. Guess I was on point,” Yizhuo says, as your flesh gets closer and closer to her covered folds, before she tips your chin up.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“You can do it later, baby. I didn’t have her find the perfect position just for nothing.”

“P–Perfect position? Miss Ning?”

“Yes, baby, I guess sluts like you would love… Amazon.”

Without another word, she nudges your chin away, leaving your back against the cold hard ground, feet up in the air. Shivers rush through your lithe body. You figure that she’d reveal her pussy just for you next.

And she does.

“Like the sight, baby?” she asks, biting her finger, resting another hand on her waist, body leaning just ever so slightly.

“Yes, Miss Ning.”

Yizhuo giggles as she lowers herself onto her knees. Her hands run down the length of your legs, lighting trails of fire in its wake. It starts to be sore now—dangling your feet up like this.

“M–Miss Ning, can I–”

“No, you’re just my slut, remember?” she commands.

“Y–Yes, miss–ngh.” You’ll have to bear the pain for now.

Yizhuo peppers kisses and licks on your toned legs, sending an unbearable pleasure through you. She slowly squats down until her lips reach the back of your knees.

“Ready?” she asks.

You sheepishly nod.

Hastily, she positions herself to where your length teases her slit. It’s so close. Fuck.

And she descends.

It’s warm. That’s your first feeling upon entry. Yizhuo lets out a stuttered moan with each inch. “F–Fuck!”

The pain in your thighs is worth it. Seeing her eyes closed, mouth agape in this position.

She adjusts herself with your cock, creeping down to the hilt.

“Yes, yes, yes, fill me up like that, slut!” she shouts.

“Ngh–y–you feel so good, Yizhuo.”

She keeps her pace slow, not wanting to have her slut cum too fast to her liking. “Y–Yizhuo? Really? You think you c–can call me by–fuck it,” she sneers, smacking your ass along with the words.

“Ah! Thanks, Yizhuo,” is what you’re able to muster out.

She’s tight. Her walls welcome you with perfection—the wet sensation around your cock, the warmth, and her empyrean moans, god, her moans. She’s fucking hypnotic. Your skin clashing into each other lights up the missing spark.

The smell of your sex permeates the file room—musky, raw, arousing. It’s your body together, just the two of you. You’ll need a spray after this.

With little effort, she grabs onto your thighs for a hold to up her ante. Her luscious thighs tenses up by seconds. Her moans grow shorter. She’s going faster now, and you don’t feel that you can hold out for this tryst for much longer.

“Y–Yizhuo–”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Really?”

“O–Oh, like you aren’t close, s–slut,” she bickers.

Her hold on your thighs grows tighter with the shorter moans.

“I–I’m gonna cum, baby,” Yizhuo says. “C–Cum when I say so, alright?”

“Y–Yes, Yizhuo.”

And without another word, her cunt gushes out the torrent of her sweet juice. She pools on your crotch. Her body arches back, stretching her toned tummy into display just for you.

“Ah, fuck!”

Along with her torrent, or perhaps it’s the sight, the familiar feeling builds up inside your stomach. You need to release it.

“Y–Yizhuo, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes, cum inside me, baby,” she orders.

And you break, you release spurts of essence inside her to the brim. You paint her insides white with your cum, desperately gasping for air. Your legs shake as she holds them tight.

“Fuck, yes!” Yizhuo screams. You are too busy having your eyes fluttered to say a thing.

It’s quick, as you finally come down from your high. Both of you are so desperate to catch your breaths in the afterglow. You can see Yizhuo smiling above you.

“I–I’m fucking this–” she slaps your rear once more. “–ass next time, baby.”

“Ah a–alright,” you say, as she lifts herself up from your used cock. She then recollects herself. Cum can be seen dripping down her thighs as she puts her shorts and panties back on.

“Yizhuo, you–”

“Ah, let’s leave it like this, shall we?” she playfully asks, biting her finger, before throwing your jeans back at you.

“Until next time, baby” She bids farewell, before leaving the room, leaving you behind under a lump of your discarded garments.

You sit there in silence, the smell of the debauchery still fills the room, hanging, waiting to be displaced. Your brain replays the misdeeds earlier—her domination, your submission.

And you realize,

You need her again.

—

#ningning #ningning smut #ningning x reader #aespa #aespa smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

841 notes · View notes

taelophone · 2 months ago

Text

✦ Teach Me ݁˖ ⋆˙⟡ — TA!Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ TWs: Pining . Sexual Tension . No Penetration . Smut . Power Play . Glasses on Luigi lol . Reader is kinda strange . Fingering . Kinda Mean Luigi . Overstimulation . ｡⋆ A/N: Sorry it took me so long I actually wasn't the biggest fan of this work. But I hope you enjoy it!

You could imagine that teaching was a tough job. The grading, the organization, teaching the same material at different levels day after day and hour by hour. Surely, the days would melt together, subjects and responsibilities sticking to each other and creating an unfortunate planning crisis.

That’s where the teaching assistant comes in.

As you made your way into the lecture hall, you pep-talked your mind to brace yourself for a long, boring, and mentally draining speech that would last over an hour. At least you had some questions written down that you planned to ask Professor Harrison regarding the lesson.

But at least it was your final class today before you could crash into your room.

So when you waltzed into the lecture hall, scanning the room for your professor, you were immediately confronted with the realization that he…wasn’t there. Even when you took your seat, the metal feet of your chair dragged against the dull blue carpet, generating the only sound in the room full of silence.

The clock ticked, that nerve-wracking tick-tock for a whole three minutes. Two minutes left until the lesson started, the red seconds hand gliding across the clock as you thought about leaving. But then in came someone you’d never seen before.

He looked about your age, maybe even a smidge older as he waltzed in through the open doorway, his head tilted upward like he was the biggest in the room.

“Hey, guys. Harrison isn’t here, he had some family stuff to do, but I’ll probably be leading today’s discussion” he said, his strong and sculpted arms peering through the soft fabric of his maroon tee.

It was a conscious effort to not let your jaw clatter down onto the floor like a skeleton. Tall, muscular, incredibly well-kept, and graced with the strongest Italian genes to ever kiss the surface of the twenty-first century.

“My name’s Luigi, I’m the new teaching assistant for Harrison, and my office hours are from four to seven-thirty.”

He smiled– the cute and content kind that left your heart squeezing with cuteness aggression and induced heart tremors. You stared directly through his eyes the best you could, following him with rapt attention that you seldom gave your real professor.

His voice; was a melancholic and deep hymn of firm knowledge that could mimic years of experience. He was tragically good and articulate with his words, subjects that you didn’t understand the first time untangling themselves in your mind to build clear pathways to the answer. In fact, you didn’t even need to ask the questions you had written down.

When he finished the lecture, gently closing his laptop and sitting atop the professor’s desk, he tapped his pen on the wooden surface repeatedly before turning to the room.

“Any questions? We have like…5 minutes left of class. Leave early, stay put, goof off, anything. As long as you’re not confused.”

There was no way in hell you were gonna leave without so much as speaking to him. You gathered your things up, leaving your notebook full of questions and doodles down on the table before trotting your way down to where he sat.

“Questions?” He asked, his head tilted to the side slightly as he bit the little push button of his bright blue pen between his plush and pink lips.

“Yeah, sorry, I just need you to explain these to me in a little bit more depth,” you murmured, shooting him a breathy and nervous chuckle before handing him your small notebook.

He hummed, taking the notebook from you graciously before his onyx brown eyes darted across the bulleted questions and the little doodles on the edges of the white-lined paper. He chuckled, eyeing a particular drawing you did of a bunch of hearts and flowers in a vase.

“Pretty drawings, they’re very nice,” he nodded, leaning back to grab his notepad and quickly write down your questions on his own. “Alright, what’d you need help with specifically? What’s confusing you?”

You made up some excuse on just needing it to be explained in more detail, prompting him to pull up a chair next to the cherry-oak desk. You quickly sat down in front of him, listening to him carefully as he essentially re-explained the lesson all over again from start to finish.

“Wow thank you,” you smiled, letting out a particularly girlish laugh as you finished writing down key points you had already written earlier on a clean leaf of paper. “That makes a lot of sense, I was so confused earlier.”

“Glad I could help,” he murmured, returning your giddy and girly grin with a boyish and bright beam of his own. He watched as you swung your backpack strap over your left shoulder and headed out the door, giving you a quaint wave as you did so.

Holy shit. Holy shit. OH MY GOODNESS.

Poor you. Poor, poor you.

He was even cuter up close with his smooth and seemingly flawless skin. A perfectly tanned tone with hints of olive under his complexion. And god, not to mention his nose…it’s faces like that that make you wanna cook and clean all day.

“No, Kat, you’re not listening. He’s perfect, like ten out of ten no flaws,” you said while staring at your vanity, gently applying moisturizer to your face. Kat, on the other end of the FaceTime, only grimaced at you with furrowed brows, the only sliver of her face you could actually see.

“Okay…let’s not sleep with the TA…” she joked, chuckling just out of frame as she propped the camera up and slid on a green spa headband before taking out her contact lenses. “I haven’t met him yet I don’t think. When did he start working for Harrison?”

You paused, ceasing your hand movements across your face as you thought about it for a moment. “I dunno actually. We didn’t make small talk, I just wanted to hear him say anything to me.”

Kathy laughed, glaring at you momentarily with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “Oh you’re filthy,” she giggled, repeating her skincare steps as you finished up yours. You sighed, shaking your head in what should have been a shame if a giddy and amused grin didn’t find shelter on your face.

“Hear me out, I just-“

“No.”

You sighed yet again, heavier and less enthusiastic before picking up the phone again. By now the device had grown hot, your 3-hour-long girl talk proving aggravating to your phone's thinning patience and heat capacity. “Phone’s getting hot, girlie. I’m gonna go lay down and rethink life.” You murmured.

“Alright babes goodnight,” Kathy smiled, leaning forward over her own vanity to hang up the phone.

And with a deep exhale through your nose, you stood up from your stool and climbed into your soft bed. With the comforter up to your ribs and your legs crossed at the ankle, you stared up at the ceiling before letting drowsiness lull you to sleep.

As days went by and Luigi slowly became more and more present in Professor Harrison’s class, you felt yourself spending more time during lessons watching his every move. If you were lucky enough, Luigi would teach a class and then chat and socialize with your classmates.

Days had turned into weeks, and weeks rolled over into months. You had been to pretty much every single office hour, pretending to be behind on certain topics and playing a dangerous game of feigned catch-up just to sit at the desk with Luigi and let him reteach what you already know. At some point it was like child’s play, seeing how long you could dance around the bomb until it blew up into lovelorn smithereens.

And today you planned on it being no different. Front of the room, head straight, and leg-crossed at the ankles while you spaced out on your teaching assistant’s tantalizing hands. Oh, how darling they’d look wrapped around my neck instead, hurling me into oxygen-lacking delirium while he made me cry for being such a bad student. To prevent yourself from being any more provocative than you were already being, you lowered your eyes to the table in front of you.

The conversation around you continued on without you, vowels and consonants linking together in a pained effort to create muffled and static gibberish while you daydreamed about the man four feet in front of you.

“Yeah, no I get that…I don’t even know why I signed up to be a TA sometimes I still have my own things to work on,” he said, fidgeting with the end of his light-blue collared shirt. “I actually have a paper I’m supposed to be working on.”

He must’ve noticed how quiet you were. Your arms folded across your chest as you leaned and slouched all the way back in your chair, maybe the way your eyes were trained onto the table in front of you. But either way, he made his way over.

He tapped on your table, once, and then twice to grab your attention before holding up a thumb and tilting his head to the side. The question was silent, but loud and clear as you nodded your head.

“You okay?”

Upon seeing your nonverbal confirmation, he mirrored your action and made his way back over to Harrison’s desk. The sounds of chatter and rushed packing filled the room, watching as people gravitated toward one another and began preparing to file out one by one.

“Alright guys, have a good rest of your day. If anyone asks you were here the whole period. If you need help or anything or just wanna chat, stick back” he said.

If you weren’t staring at him so hard, you would have missed it. His eyes flickered over in your direction for a fraction of a second, knocking the wind right out of your lungs.

An invitation. One that you could easily deny or accept without feeling pressured or guilty later. A clever man, he was, something that you caught onto very early into him easing into your days. You learned that he was a computer science engineer, which immediately made sense with the way he detangled the wires in your brain.

Your legs carried you over to the desk before you could even think of a plan, placing yourself before him like he called you with some imaginary whistle.

“I knew you’d notice. Good catch” he beamed, straightening his back a little bit as he leaned his back hips against the edge of the desk. “You seemed spaced today, are you doing okay? You’re usually more…active.”

“Oh yeah I’m okay, I was just a little tired today,” you replied, giving him a reassuring nod. You were lying through your teeth, and a part of you felt like he could possibly sense it with the way he wordlessly stared down at you for a moment before nodding slowly; hesitantly.

“Get some sleep, okay? You can always come to me if you need help or don’t understand something. I’ll try to explain” He nodded, giving you a boyish smile with a light pink dusted on the apples of his cheeks.

“Thanks,” you said, shifting your weight to one leg. “I’ll probably come by during office hours.

I want help reviewing my notes.”

“Nice. I’m gonna be back in here, but I’ll probably come in a bit earlier than four so I can…grade quizzes,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the realization slowly sunk in.

“Oh, well good luck,” you said, giving him an apologetic smile.

He nodded, a deep and exasperated sigh reverberating from his lungs as a pained smile crept onto his face. He ran his hands through his coco curls, giving you a thumbs up and watching you exit out the door.

You and Luigi’s relationship, or for better words connection, was strictly professional. You barely saw him outside of the days when he wasn’t assisting in Harrison’s class, and if you did happen to catch glimpses of him on campus he was always preoccupied with something else.

Strictly academic and professional.

Right?

What a lack of judgment. The red hot sin and embarrassment that would crowd Luigi’s face whenever you stood too near. He felt almost dirty in a sense; after all, it wasn’t entirely ethical to crush on your “bosses” students.

But when your eyes honed in on him like the only object in the room, picking him apart piece by piece and ripping away each thread of his clothes with your eyes, it was hard not to get a little warm on the nose. Day by day and piece by piece, he could feel himself getting sidetracked with your memory.

So when he leaned back in his chair, staring down at the papers he had only halfway penetrated with red ink and comments, he thought of you bouncing back into the room with your not-so-secret lies of confusion.

The smooth sound of pen ink gliding across paper filled the room, scribbles of minus three and half credit echoing subtly through the empty classroom. He murmured under his breath as he wrote, flipping back and forth

between the rubric and the long pages of text as his eyes slowly began to glaze over.

There was fire burning every inch of his body; lustful and jeering in his ears as he did everything in his power to repent against the thoughts of how gorgeous you would look crying on this desk while you panted from overstimulation. The scandal…the pleasure. The taboo of the situation left him with a bitter and tangy taste on the tip of his tongue as he swallowed.

thump-thump-thump-thump

Your shoes patted the cheap carpet halls as you made your way back into the class, locking your eyes onto a hunched-over Luigi with a pen between his pointer and middle finger. Back and forth, he flicked the pen repeatedly as he took deep breaths in a last-ditch effort to self-soothe.

“Hey,” you murmured, placing your bag down next to the desk and your notebook on the opposite end of his stack of papers. “How’s grading going?”

His eyes jetted upwards, locking onto yours with a small smile. “Horrible!” He started with a contrastingly happy grin. “I’ve hated every second of it. How are you doing this afternoon?”

You stifled a chuckle, pulling your mouth down from the shameless smirk that had snuck onto your expression. Dry, dry-humored man.

“I’m doing okay! Been working on my notes. I suck at taking them, I feel like I never know what’s important to write” you mused, flipping through your notebook until the most recent lecture notes came into view.

You peered over the pages, trying to see if you could see your own answers under his inspection. Your eyes darted over the pages, snooping around names and numbers before he slowly shifted his hand to cover the scores. He let out a small huff of a chuckle, clicking his pen closed before setting the stack of papers to the side.

“Did I do okay? You’re giving me anxiety, Mangione” you joked, pulling up a chair in front of the desk.

He covered his mouth, failing to prevent a smile from creeping on his face as he giggled a little.

Oh fuck.

“You passed, but you’re one of like…five who did by an actual hair. I actually graded yours first cuz I knew you’d be stopping by again. We can go over it now if you want! Unless you wanna do notes first?” He offered, flicking his long and skinny fingers through the many many pieces of paper until he plucked out yours.

You thought about it for a moment, thinking it over in your head. It was kind of hard to focus on anything with him sitting so close…those glossy black-framed glasses sitting just right on his face. And oh my god his slender and large hands—

“Yeah, can we go over the quiz first?” You blurted, leaning to the side of your chair to retrieve your pencil case from the front compartment of your backpack.

“Sure,” he said, placing the quiz in front of you for you to review.

You looked it over, thanking whatever divine force had your back that day for somehow clearing a path for you to even pass this quiz. You were surprised that some of your answers were even correct, shit, you might as well have said you took the quiz with your eyes closed. That’s how gone you were.

“I’m not gonna lie…the quiz was kind of unfair,” he started, his eyebrows shooting up momentarily in amused disbelief. “I wrote maybe 50 percent of this, so I’ll help you with what I wrote, but I cannot help you on Harrison’s part. Sometimes I think we don’t even speak the same language.”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh before flipping the packet back to the front page and handing it back to him. You knew then and there you were gonna be there for a while, even if your intentions were to just pop by and review fake notes. At least you were spending time together!

He broke everything down piece by piece, watching as you jotted notes down in your spiral notebook and wrote down little tidbits of info along the way. And when he was done, he took a sip of water, leaned forward, and gazed over what you had written in your notebook.

“Huh. Weird, I thought you said you couldn’t take notes?” He chuckled, standing up and walking around the desk to lean over your shoulder. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him; comforting and affectionate like a man raised by gentle hands.

“Two birds with one stone” he chuckled, the sound echoing in the shell of your ear as you fought the urge to squeal and panic like a child denied their lifeline of sugar. “Don’t worry, I’ll still help you go over them.”

“I feel like I did better cuz you watched me take them,” you chuckled, instantly relaxing as he made his way to the long whiteboard, popping open a red marker as he began to jot down the topic, and a few empty bullet points under.

“So this is how I take notes…excuse my handwriting,” he said, jotting down the main point, key details, and miscellaneous info.

He was so shaky. His hands were like a humbug and his mind was taunting his sanity. Your eyes trailed after him, pausing to linger on a specific feature of his before following him again.

It drove him up a wall. He wasn’t even registering the conversation happening between you two as he gave pointers and red-ink examples.

“Oh I have another question,” you blurted, now leaning against the front of the desk to see the board a little closer.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He answered, turning around and leaning against the whiteboard.

“What’s your type? You seem like you like smart girls.”

He paused, putting the cap on the marker before jutting his bottom lip out slightly. He pretended to think about it, processing your bold statement. His heart thumped in his ears, loud and fervent as arteries in his muscles threatened to pop.

He made his way over to the side of the desk, placing his hands down on the oak and leaning forward. He was so close, but oh so far. The once dark and charcoal-brown eyes revealed themselves to be a deep hazel, glimmering with satisfaction and authority.

“Well, I don’t think I have a type per se,” he said, adjusting his readers with the knuckle of his pointer finger. “I just like women with goals and a strong sense of self,” he smiled.

“I have goals,” you murmured, glancing over his features with a newfound feeling of hunger.

“Do you, now?” He mused, tilting his head to the side as he slowly rounded the corner of the desk to stand in front of you.

By now it was beginning to get dark outside. The ember-like orange glow of the various lamps around the room, and the back lights gave their best effort to keep the dimly lit room visible. His heavy hands came to rest next to each of your thighs, the palms of his hands flat on the smooth desk while he stared down at you.

“You’re…adorable” he smiled, propping you up on the desk and watching you closely.

Darkness kissed your features, the soft and lively look of your skin spurred his desire to ravage you whole like an animal. He stood between the gap in your legs, knowing that he wasn’t going to make the first move regardless. He knew he’d lose a lot of respect from Harrison if he kept going, and he knew that you had a lot to lose by sleeping with him.

Fair trade.

He would have expected you to kiss him, make a comment about his glasses, or even squeal and say you can’t do it anymore. But what he didn’t expect —

Was for you to jet your hips forward, rolling them teasingly against his half-hard bulge. His brows pinched together at the fleeting friction, tingles of pleasure shooting through him for a fraction of a second. His eyes were glued onto where you briefly connected before they shot back up to stare into yours, an even mix of disgruntled desperation.

“You…you’re very bold. Very very bold,” he chuckled, gathering your face between his thumb and the remainder of his fingers, squishing the fat of your cheeks until your teeth resisted his strength.

You smiled, a squished and crooked one as he mashed his lips against yours. A brutal, teeth-and-tongue-filled fight for dominance occurred in your mouths as spit and sin were exchanged on this very desk. Horny and rampant like untouched virgins left alone after hours.

You whined in his mouth when he pushed you back, shoving your back flat against the desk and sending papers floating to the floor with the grace of a mother swan. You had no time to adjust to the way he began to consume you, coaxing every meek and subtle sound of pleasure from your mouth as he slid his knee between your legs to nudge up against your achy cunt.

He pulled away, taking a brief intermission for some much-needed air as he slid his readers off the strong bridge of his nose. Red with fury, and pink with lust, his cheeks and nose flared in the faint orange light as he basked in the way your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“Words, c’mon. I know you have them…” he urged, his knee growing more insistent at your crotch, plucking strings of moans and whines from your orchestral lungs.

“Please…need you so bad,” you panted, your hands coming up to your face to conceal the way your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head.

“I know you need me, that’s why you came to office hours!” He joked with a patronizing grin, his large hand linking around your wrists to pull them away from your face.

“It’s not funny, I want you inside of me!” You whined, fighting the urge to throw a fit when he gave you an imitation of a sympathetic click of his tongue and a condescending little “awww.”

He chuckled, lowering his knee back to stationary before hooking his hand into your jeans, glancing up at you for confirmation. He let out a scowl when you only nodded.

“I didn’t teach you for months for you to not use all the many words I taught you” he warned, slowly withdrawing his hand from your jeans.

“No, no it’s ok! Take them off please” you said, immediately grabbing his wrist to prevent him from withdrawing his hand from you.

He nodded, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down to your lower thighs. He took his time fidgeting around with your puffy clit through the cotton of your panties, up and down with the pad of his thumb before experimenting with small and tight circles.

He listened to the way your moans grew in volume, ending in shrill whimpers the longer he teased the sensitive pearl. He chuckled, an amused smile spreading up to his face.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m being mean” he giggled, pulling your panties to the side and toying around with the sticky and glossy wetness that glossed your pretty folds.

His middle and ring fingers pushed into you slowly, in and out with languid and almost practiced strokes to that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Cosmos aligned, universes collided, and galaxies crumbled before you as he learned the astronomy of your body.

“So tense…you’re never gonna take me if you keep being this tight” he chuckled, picking up the pace with his fingers. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to loosen you up a little. I don’t wanna hurt my favorite student.”

You couldn’t understand why he was apologizing then. With his fingers plunging in and out of you so deliciously, the sloshy and obscene noises mingling with your moans of euphoria ushered any thoughts or coherency in one ear and out the other. There was no way you were hearing him right now, and he knew that.

“Stay with me,” he urged, his free hand seeking refuge over your hipbone. “You’re too pretty to have such an empty mind…but don’t worry I’ll teach you again.”

You tightened around his fingers, his knuckles prodding and pleasuring your gummy walls as you attempted to close your legs around his wrist, much to Luigi’s dismay.

“No, don’t do that. You wanted this. You wanted this for who knows how long, and you’re gonna take everything I give you, okay?” He said, the hand that once rested on your hip coming down to hold your knee, prying your legs open.

You whined, your vision going white with snow as your breath caught in your throat— barely hushed cries of his name rushing from your lips as you soaked his knuckles in milky white ecstasy.

“Just like that…mhm, look at me?” he purred, relishing in the dazed and confused expression that washed over your features. But he wasn’t slowing down.

His fingers were still pistoning in and out of you, and the overstimulation began to bite and nip at your sensitive and puffy cunt. It was deliciously painful, tears pricking and rolling down your cheeks as your lips parted in loud moans. You attempted to scoot back, push his hand away, anything. It just wasn’t working.

“Don’t run from it…I’m not done,” he commanded, holding under your leg to keep you tugged in place. “So pretty…” he purred, his eyes transfixed on the sight of your weeping cunt begging for more while you begged for less.

It was like he was hyperfixated on your moans. His ears pressed to hear more like you weren’t directly in front of him, listening carefully to every single sound you made.

You cried, twitched, came, and writhed as he carried on for what felt like hours. Two turned three, three turned four, and four pulled into five as you felt your eyes completely cross and roll into the back of your mind. So far into the dark depths of pleasure, you could still faintly see the ghost of a smirk on Luigi’s lips in the back of your mind.

Any form of coherency was beginning to leave you as the painful euphoria clouded your mind and squeezed the oxygen out of your body. He was everywhere, cooing and. mocking in your ear as he reduced you to your simplest form. Babbles of "I can't take it" and pained whined as he took what he wanted from you.

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he purred, an unapologetic grin on his face as he coaxed you into one final orgasm. “I’m done, I’m done. I promise.”

He laughed, this one lacking his usual boyish charm and innocence. This one was mean but warm and loving, like watching a nostalgic home video. He watched you, twitchy and sensitive as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you.

“Good girl, you did so well for me. C’mon, get up. We’re not finished with your notes. If you can show me you understand the material I’ll let you get all of me.”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione smut #CEO Assassin x Reader #The Adjuster x Reader #FUCK BRIAN THOMSPONN

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hoshigray · 2 years ago

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Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

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jnnul · 10 months ago

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falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

#jnnul #boynextdoor #bnd x reader #taesan x reader #bnd imagines #bnd fluff #taesan #bonedo #taesan fluff #taesan boynextdoor #taesan imagines #taesan bnd #bnd fic #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor imagines

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

cw: sexual content, possessive neteyam, tsaheylu, semi public sex, dominant neteyam, missionary position, doggy position, TRIGGER WARNING for brief mention of non con, dirty talk, sub reader, fluff, yearning, masturbation, tenderness. I might remember more and add later lol

After AGES (sorry for the hiatus, my loves :( I needed it), the so anticipated smut chapter of his story 🥺💓 I've been wanting to let my babies (yes, I love my characters to this point lol) have this special, intimate moment for so long 😭 it just wasn't the right time yet but now here it is. I wrote a part of this chapter in public, in a cafeteria inside a supermarket and damnnnn my pussy was clenching so much lol it was a weird situation lmao fuck I need Neteyam inside of me istg I can't anymore 😭 I hope my dear readers enjoy this <33

PS: in this story, Neteyam was shot on his arm when he was fighting the RDA, not on his chest, hence a scar on his arm is gonna be mentioned.

Slightly proofread. I'll edit it as soon as I can.

Chapter 9

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I can never look away

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

Things will never be the same

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

Now I'm wide awake

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

(...)

All of you, all of me intertwined

Daylight (Taylor Swift)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Neteyam's lips kissed your neck in a perfect mix of tenderness and passion. Your whimpers filled the air as you felt his big bulge rubbing against your ass and Neteyam took that as a sign that you were enjoying that level of intimacy with him. He was finally able to show you how much he craved you, how just the thought of your wet pussy made him get hard as a rock.

Neteyam was leaking so much precum for you, his loincloth had a stain on it from his thick salty liquid, as he kept rubbing himself against your butt in a languid yet delicious pace, almost driving you insane.

His four fingers hovered over the sensitive skin of your arm.

"Your skin feels so soft, oeyä muntxate… just touching it makes me get even harder for you."

You turned your head back to look at him and his amber eyes stared deep into yours. Your fingers softly touched his beautiful face, tracing his dark blue stripes and his freckles.

Neteyam let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, savoring your touch. You turned yourself around completely, your body towards him now, and your lips reached for Neteyam's mouth. You softly kissed him, feeling how plump and wet his lips were. Neteyam eagerly kissed you back as soon as your soft mouth came in contact with his. His tongue sneaked between your upper and your lower lip carefully but passionately and you opened your mouth wider so he could explore the insides of it. Neteyam laid over you and you felt his cock growing even harder and bigger, now pressed against your soaking wet pussy, still covered by your clothes. You wanted him so bad, he made you so weak that you couldn't help but moan against his lips. Neteyam ended the kiss leaving two pecks in your lips delicately.

“I want you so bad… your body, your scent, your lips on mine…”

Neteyam touched the sleeves of your white cropped top slightly, taking his time, not wanting to startle you or make you feel like he doesn't respect your boundaries, but Eywa knows there was a hungry animal inside of him who only wanted to bury himself deep inside your tight pussy, rough and merciless. His animalistic side wanted to hunt you down and catch you like a prey, mating with his female, taking what's his. But he knew it was too soon to act like that. This was gonna be your first time together and the last thing he wanted was to scare you, to drive you away. He could not live without you again. He needed to have the scent of your skin on him to survive.

His fingers finally reached the hem of your top and as he watched your body language, Neteyam noticed you welcomed his actions, so, he took your top off, your hair getting a little messed up as he passed it over your head. He threw it to the side and couldn't care less about where it had landed because all he could focus on was your breasts. They were much bigger than the breasts of the other na'vi girls, as you were in an Avatar body. That pleased him beyond reason. Neteyam's hands traveled through the delicate blue skin of your tits, caressing it with the most tender touch, his fingers drawing over your bioluminescent freckles. You watched his face, the way he looked dumb with desire and longing, his mouth half open, his breath heavy.

“Oeyä muntxate, how can you be even more beautiful in this body? Your human breasts drive me crazy, you know that, but these… your pink nipples contrasting with your blue skin, these stripes, your little freckles… fuck, my love… I wanna suck on your titties, bury my face on them and never let go.”

You chuckled slighty “Then I think you should. I'm yours, Neteyam.”

“Yeah? You're mine? Say it again. Say you're only mine.” He dared teasingly

“I'm only yours, Neteyam. My body belongs to you.” Neteyam's smile was big and proud

One of his hands cupped your right breast as he took your lips on his, tasting the softest mouth he had ever kissed.

Neteyam kissed the tip of your cat like nose, then left kisses on your mouth, your chin and your throat. His lips rapidly found your nipple and he took it inside his mouth, suckling on it profusely, his hunger taking over him. Your na'vi ears moved downwards, your mouth was half open and your eyes closed, your back arching slighty. Your folds got wetter and wetter as he sucked on your other tit now like he had been starving for that for way too long and it had been killing him.

Neteyam traced your stomach slowly with his fingers, the bare touch of his digits scorching you with delight. He carefully started to unbutton your shorts as he looked into your eyes, as if asking for permission. You nodded and he slid your piece of clothing down your legs. You opened your legs slightly and his big hand cupped your pussy, covered by your soaking wet panties. That made a thought pop up in your mind: did female Avatars have a hymen? Would you feel pain and bleed once he penetrated you? You never bothered to ask about that to your teachers because… well… you never thought you'd be having sex in your Avatar body. You could never imagine that Neteyam would appear to you. Never… that made you hold back a smile but the corners of your lips curled up, in stubbornness.

“Why are you smiling?” Neteyam teased “Do you like when I touch you like this, muntxate?”

“Yes.” Even though that wasn't why you were smiling, that was undeniably true.

Neteyam smiled, proud of himself, and wrapped his tail around your leg, making you feel owned by him and that always turned you on beyond explanation.

He just wanted to pleasure his precious mate already. The way your juices smelled was driving him mad. Neteyam needed to finally have your taste all over his tongue. But before that, he wanted to do something important.

“It's time, tanhì. Tsaheylu.” He was nervous to ask you for something that was utterly normal and natural to his people but could be so very weird to you. In that moment, Neteyam was so aware that you had been raised in a totally different culture. That as much as you were na'vi in your soul and was in your na'vi body now, you were still… human.

But you eagerly consented. He breathed out, relieved and the fearful look left his face, where now there was a soft smile, showing no teeth.

Your fingers trembled softly as you took your long braid in your hand and your tendrils were now free, the delicate, thin extremities dancing in the air.

“No need to be nervous, yawne. You're my mate. We belong to each other. Do you trust me?”

You looked at him with doe eyes “I do. I'm not scared. Just nervous.” You smiled coyly and he kissed your hand tenderly

When you both brought your pinkish tendrils together and they intertwined, you felt a powerful wave piercing through your whole being.

How do you explain that you can see yourself through someone's thoughts? How do you explain that you can feel, not sense, but literally feel how much the person you love loves you back, just like your spirits are one and the same? Your teachers in the laboratory taught you that tsaheylu worked very similarly to how synapses work in the human brain, extremely similar actually. Neteyam was passing to you his emotions through his kuru and so were you, like you both… had the same mind. As weird as it sounds to a human being, you never knew you needed that invincible, raw connection until that moment. It was euphoria running through your veins but also calming too. It almost did not make sense… but it did. It cannot be explained rationally, you can't use your brain to understand it. Only your heart will. His electrical waves invaded your body and your soul like a sword, its blade so sharp, the love so strong, that none of your barriers could keep him away, keep him from becoming one with you. You could only wonder if that was real, if that moment wasn't just a part of a crazy dream.

That's the best you could come up with to try to explain something as ethereal and sacred as tsaheylu. There are no words, at least not in the limited English language that you could try to use that would convey the feeling that it was having Neteyam's tendrils intertwining with yours. It was like they were made to be there, together, connected. Like some force said so in the beginning of time and there was nothing nobody could ever do to prevent it. Just like the cycle of life, it was an unstoppable force, you and him, the love you shared.

You hadn't realized when you had closed your eyes but once you opened them, you saw Neteyam with his eyes still closed and his lips parted, like he was in a trance. You couldn't help but smile. Was he feeling something as strong as you did? After a few seconds, he opened his sparkling golden eyes. Neteyam smiled at you and held onto your waist, kissing you passionately.

He gently pushed you to lay on your back, his hands on your shoulders. Neteyam left a trail of delicate kisses in between your breasts and went down, opening your legs.

“I'm addicted to how you smell. How can you have this power over me, yawne?” His wide eyes were locked on yours while he pronounced those enticing words

Neteyam kissed your navel and licked over your wet panties, tasting your juices. Your breath got caught in your throat, so good it felt. He got rid of the last piece of clothing keeping him from tasting your cunt - that now belonged to him. Neteyam was impatient, it was like he needed to eat you out right now or he would die.

When his mouth finally reached your pussy and he licked your soaking wet folds for the first time and your taste invaded his taste buds, it was like he was gonna explode. His tongue lapped on your cunt over and over, desperately, like an animal, like you had just awakened his rut, even though it wasn't possible. But maybe it was. You had a hold on him that no other girl had ever had. And he knew that there would never be anyone else for him but you. Neteyam ate your pussy like you had the best taste he ever had on his tongue. And you did. He had been yearning to taste you for so long. Just touching himself thinking about you hadn't been enough for some time. He was so, so grateful to Eywa that he was finally there, with you, mating with the girl he loved so much, the girl who had turned him from a man into a burning flame, so strong was the desire he felt for you.

“Yawntu…” Neteyam cried “You taste so good…” he sucked on your clit, making your pussy feel hot and your entrance clench around nothing, aching to be fucked by his cock.

You were now no longer a girl but a moaning mess. There was a boiling pool of pleasure in your lower stomach. Your body contorted under him.

When he was done eating your cunt, Neteyam sat on his ankles, and took his cock in his hand, its impressive girth and length turning you on, making your pussy get wetter, your inner thighs all sticky.

Neteyam started to jerk himself off, his swollen tip pouring precum out insanely while he gazed at your body with lust tainted eyes.

It was such a sight to see, so hot it had your heart beating at the speed of light and you felt your pussy walls clenching around nothing, yet again.

You could not believe he was like that because of you. Were you that pretty? So pretty that you were able to get the attention of such a gorgeous creature? Getting to the answer didn't matter, though. All that mattered to you at that moment was how hot he was and how crazy he was for your body. Neteyam's huge cock made you feral and you knew he was feral over your body too.

"Can I put it in, baby?" Neteyam asked, still stroking his blue cock. You watched him use his four slender fingers to stimulate himself with want in your eyes. The way the veins there were all loaded with blood… Fuck. "Need you so bad…" he cooed, yearning.

"Yeah" You meant to speak but it came off more like a moan

Neteyam gave you a lustful look with his wide feline eyes, the yellow in them luring you in as they shone like gold.

He put his cock on your entrance, making you quiver a little by the slightest contact of his member with your cunt. When he had all his length inside of you, there was the animalistic Neteyam again. The one you met that night outside your bedroom window, the one who could barely keep himself from forcing his body on you.

"You're mine!" Neteyam said and then groaned "All mine! Ahhh, fuck, yawne!" He kept slamming his hips vigorously against yours

No words could possibly come out of your mouth at that time. All your brain would let you do was moan loudly.

"Eywa… you're clenching so much around my cock" He chuckled "Do you like being fucked by me as much as I like fucking you?" He said, while thrusting deep into you.

"Mmmgh…" You pathetically mewled

"Yes, you do, yawnetu" Neteyam let out a sexy, almost cocky smirk. He loved knowing he could melt you like that, give you so much pleasure you couldn't even speak.

Neteyam kept fucking you hard, slamming his hips against yours, his tip reaching deep inside your body, poking at your womb, bruising your insides but bringing you to a state of raw pleasure that you never thought your body was capable of feeling.

He felt divine as he buried himself inside your sensitive flesh, his moans just would not stop filling your ears, turning you on beyond reason, driving you closer and closer to the edge of Paradise.

“Get on all fours for me, oeyä muntxate”

You obeyed Neteyam's command without thinking twice.

In the blink of an eye, he was inside of you again, reaching deeper this time, making you moan in an addictive mix of pain and delight as his swollen tip reached your womb with every thrust.

"This pretty, tight pussy is all mine now. This body…" He let out an animalistic growl "so fucking hot, all for me. All mine. Yawne…" he moaned loud for you before he pulled out and pumped his cock as his warm, sticky seed fell all over your ass and reached the beginning of your lower back. That sight was by far the most beautiful thing Neteyam had ever seen. He had marked you as his. Completely. His cum covering your skin as a sign to show who you belonged to.

You laid at the wooden floor, flushed and panting a little as Neteyam smirked and kissed your back. He still breathed heavy as he ran his hand over your back, in a sensual caress. Neteyam was beyond proud of what he had done to his precious mate. Now you were utterly, undoubtedly and completely his.

༊⁀➷

When you two were holding each other, cuddling after having made love, you noticed a big scar on Neteyam's arm. How did you not notice it before? It was big and ragged. You felt bad for not noticing it before. But then you realized he wasn't wearing the brown beaded bracelet he used to always wear that day. That must be why. He hid his scar under his bracelet.

“I never noticed before that you had a scar on your arm”

He chuckled, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “Yes, I have one.”

“How did you get it?”

He breathed deeply and then let the air out, his eyes now clouded, like some terrible memory was hunting him. “Fighting against the demons. The Sky People.��

“I see…”

"It's kinda ugly, I know." He joked but you could see right through his smile and the obvious way he was now covering it with his hand. Neteyam was insecure about the way his skin looked with the scar on it.

You kissed the scar on his arm tenderly, your lips gentle as they did so.

"It's not ugly. I like it." You told Neteyam as your eyes were fixed on his scar "It only reminds me that you've been through something terrible but survived it, that you're strong." You looked up into his eyes again and Neteyam smiled at you tenderly yet coyly, showing no teeth.

“The bullet hit my artery. I bled so much when I got shot that my family thought I was gonna die. But I believe the Great Mother found a way to protect me because there was a female warrior with us and she was also a healer. She was able to stop the bleeding until they could get me to my grandmother, the Tsahìk. You know what a Tsahìk is, right?” He smiled softly, petting your face, his thumb gentle as the touch of a flower

“I do. They're the spiritual leaders and healers of the clans, right?”

“That's right, yawntu.” Neteyam was happy you knew a lot about his culture. The culture you should have been born in. You were his na'vi mate, in your soul you were na'vi. He knew it, he could feel it. Seeing you in your na'vi body (or in your Dreamwalking body, like his mother and grandmother used to say) felt so right. Like things finally were how they should be. You were just temporarily spending more time in the wrong body, the human one. But that would change soon.

Your heart hurt profusely, you wondered how your life would be if you hadn't met him, if he had died. It's weird to think this, but you felt like it would hurt you to lose him like that, even if you wouldn't be actually losing him if you would never have met him, right?

Even so… thinking about it made you almost despair. How can you love someone so much like that? That the mere thought of having never met him shatters you? And beyond that, you hated that he had got shot. By humans. Your kind. That made you feel dirty, ashamed to share DNA with such a despicable race, one capable of hurting and almost killing a young man who was just trying to protect his family, his people, his home.

You fought back tears and of course he noticed. Neteyam noticed everything about you. Nothing would go past his golden eyes.

“Hey, don't cry.” He said

“I hate that it happened to you.” He gave you a comforting smile

“I survived. It's okay.” All you could do was hug him tight, still stuck in the thought of having lost the opportunity of meeting the best person you ever laid eyes upon

He hugged you back, his arms making you feel at home. They were your home now. You were far too sacred in Neteyam's eyes, like a pure, delicate creature he must protect at any cost. And he would. Neteyam would live and die for you.

He was way more than you had ever dreamed of in a partner. He showed you a kind of love you never even thought could exist, so pure and strong and raw and powerful. You wanted it to engulf you. You wanted to dive deep into Neteyam's ocean and never come back for air again. You wanted to learn how to breathe under his waters, just so you could never leave the state of mind that being loved by him, feeling that love so strongly, all over you, burning you so good, put you in. It was a sweet ecstasy.

After a while, Neteyam walked you back to your small room in the laboratory and when you were safe, inside the building, he headed back to his family's hut. Your taste and the way you felt were still all over him, though. Your beautiful face was haunting his thoughts. A part of him was left with you.

༊⁀➷

"Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.”

Romeo Montague - Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

༊⁀➷

This is the last chapter of the Part 1 of this story :) see you guys in Part 2, hopefully! Thank you all for reading it and being in this journey with our beloved characters until now 💕

•

Taglist:

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@xylobee

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@henhouse-horrors

@lala-1516

@crazy4books1

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@lik0

@your-girl-mj

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lupinqs · 5 months ago

Text

CHAPTER NINE ━━ Mending

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 9.2K (bruh i should’ve split this in two)

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of conversion therapy, sexual content (fingering)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: this is sooo long and not proofread but i hope the length and the content make up for me not posting last night lol

“NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Thaliah’s voice rings out firmly, leaving no room for argument as it fills the space of her bedroom. The statement feels like a slap, and Paige, who sits cross-legged on the floor, snaps her head up, eyes locking onto Thaliah’s.

“Why?” Paige asks, the offense clear in her tone.

Thaliah doesn’t miss a beat, looking at her like she’s completely lost her mind. “Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, sarcasm dripping from every word, “probably because she dropped us after being friends for years, then acted like a complete bitch for months. And, what? Now that she and Hudson broke up and she’s lost all her popular friends, she’s suddenly crawling back to us?” She shakes her head, crossing her arms in defiance. “Absolutely not. And, Paige, don’t forget she literally broke your heart!”

Paige feels the words hit her like a punch in the gut, a bitter reminder of the pain she’s been trying so hard to push down. Broke your heart. That part stings the most, because it’s true, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

She swallows hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, Thal—”

Jalen, who’s been quietly scrolling through his phone on Thaliah’s bed, cuts in, his voice calm but dismissive. “P, Dani doesn’t even like basketball that much. She doesn’t need to come.”

Paige whirls around to face him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. It’s been a couple of weeks since the night of the season-opener—since Dani and Beau called it quits, and since Paige and Dani kissed at the park. That kiss had been everything Paige had imagined for so long, but it hadn’t been a magic fix for all the hurt between them. Not by a long shot.

They haven’t kissed again since, but things have shifted between them. Conversations that once felt awkward and strained are easier now. More and more, Dani smiles at Paige the way she used to—like she knows Paige better than anyone else. It’s the kind of smile that makes Paige’s heart do this stupid little flip in her chest. But it still feels like they’re walking on egg shells around each other, and Paige knows it.

Still, they’ve hung out a significant amount since and there’s been so much real progress. Paige can only hope soon everything will be almost entirely normal again. At this point, the only thing that’s truly missing is the four of them together and friends—Paige, Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen. Like it’s been for years.

But, clearly, the latters of the quartet do not feel the same. Especially because now, in Thaliah’s room with her laptop open and ready to purchase Timberwolves tickets, a tradition that’s been theirs since they were kids, neither Thaliah nor Jalen are interested in Dani coming. Even though she’s always come with them. Even though this is their last year together before college splits them up. Paige can’t stand the idea of Dani not being there, and—even with all of the recent drama—she can’t believe that her other two best friends can.

“She’s come every year,” Paige argues, her voice tightening. “It’s tradition. It’s our thing. And this is the last time we’ll all be together before we leave. She’s coming.”

Thaliah raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Not unless she apologizes. To both of us.”

Paige’s frustration spikes. “She’s tried to! But you still have her blocked, and you completely ignore her at school!”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “She blocked me first!”

Jalen, ever the mediator, sighs. “Look, Paige, it’s not that we don’t get it, okay? But Dani ghosted us, and she was a total asshole. She can’t just show up like nothing happened. Especially not after everything she did to you.” He looks at Paige, his tone softening. “I mean, seriously, P—you of all people should be the last person defending her right now.”

The room goes quiet after Jalen’s words sink in, the weight of the truth pressing down on Paige’s chest. She knows what they’re saying isn’t wrong. Dani did hurt her—badly. She spent months wondering what she did to drive Dani away, nights crying herself to sleep after Dani told her they couldn’t be friends anymore. The memory still twists her stomach in knots, but—

“She’s been through a lot,” Paige says quietly, though there’s a tremble in her voice now. “You guys just don’t know the whole story.”

Thaliah’s eyes narrow. “Then enlighten us, Paige. What’s Dani been through that justifies all her shitty behavior?”

Paige bites the inside of her cheek, feeling the familiar wave of protectiveness rise up in her. She can’t tell them. She knows what Dani’s been through—everything she’s faced with her dad, the conversion camp over the summer, the fear and guilt that’s been eating her alive. It’s not Paige’s story to tell, though. And despite everything, the blonde knows Dani isn’t ready to talk about it, not yet.

She shakes her head. “It’s not my place to say.”

Thaliah scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “So we’re supposed to just take your word for it? Without any explanation? We’ve all been through shit, but we didn’t treat our friends like crap because of it.”

Paige clenches her jaw, trying to keep her cool. “It’s not the same, Thal. Dani’s different now. You don’t know what she’s been dealing with, but she’s trying to make things right. She’s tried to apologized.”

“When? To who?” Thaliah presses. “She sure as hell hasn’t apologized to me or Jalen.”

“I told you—she tried. But how’s she supposed to if you won’t even give her a chance?”

The argument spirals, voices rising as Paige, Thaliah, and Jalen go back and forth. Every time Paige feels like she’s getting somewhere, they push back harder, reminding her of all the ways Dani hurt them, all the reasons they have for keeping their walls up. But Paige is tired—tired of having to defend Dani over something that’s hardly even her fault to begin with, tired of feeling like the only one who still believes in her. Her hands clench into fists, her throat tight with emotion.

“She’s been through enough,” Paige says, her voice cracking with exhaustion. “You guys have no idea what she’s been through. But I’m telling you—she’s trying. She’s doing the best she can. And you need to cut her some slack.”

Thaliah crosses her arms again, her expression stony. “If it’s that serious, then tell us what’s going on, Paige.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “I can’t. You know that I would if I could. But it’s not my business to tell—seriously.”

Silence stretches between them, thick with tension. Paige can feel her pulse pounding in her ears, frustration clawing at her throat. She knows she’s not getting through to them, but she doesn’t know how else to make them understand. All she wants is for them to see the Dani she knows—the Dani who’s struggling but trying to make amends, trying to rebuild what she broke.

Finally, Thaliah sighs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine! Fine, Jesus Christ, she can come.”

Paige lets out a long breath, but it’s not relief she feels. It’s something closer to exhaustion, the kind that weighs heavy on her chest. She can tell by the look on Thaliah’s face, the tension still radiating from Jalen, that this isn’t over.

IT’S SATURDAY, and Dani’s sitting on Paige’s bed, fiddling with her hands as the silence stretches between them. She shifts uncomfortably, pulling at the sleeves of her Timberwolves hoodie, trying to figure out how to bring up the topic that’s been gnawing at her ever since Paige told her they’d all be going to the game together. Dani’s stomach churns at the thought of seeing Thaliah and Jalen again. It’s been months since things got bad, since she cut them off—cut everyone off, really—and she’s not naïve enough to think they’ll just welcome her back like nothing happened.

She glances at Paige, who’s sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, her face focused as she scrolls through something on her phone. Dani takes a deep breath, feeling her nerves bubble up inside her.

“How bad is it? Like, seriously.”

Paige freezes, her thumb pausing mid-scroll. She doesn’t look up or make eye contact with Dani, which isn’t a great sign. Instead, she moves closer, sitting beside Dani and reaching out to gently run her fingers over one of Dani’s braids.

“These are cute,” Paige says softly, the corner of her lips quirking up. “When’d you learn to Dutch?”

Dani’s heart stutters in her chest, just for a second, at the way Paige’s voice drops, warm and affectionate. The way her fingers ghost along the braid, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to touch her like this.

She clears her throat, ignoring the way her pulse quickens and instead looks at Paige pointedly, refusing to be distracted. “Seriously, Paige. What’s the damage?”

Paige sighs, her fingers stilling before slipping away from Dani’s braid. She drops her hand into her lap, her shoulders sagging slightly as if she’s been carrying the weight of this conversation for too long already. Dani can feel her heart rate pick up, the anxiety starting to claw its way up her throat.

It’s been a few weeks since the breakup with Beau, since the night she and Paige kissed in the park and the walls she’d built so carefully around herself began to crumble. They haven’t talked about it much, that kiss. There’s been this weird understanding between them, this unspoken agreement to focus on rebuilding their friendship first. But even that hasn’t been easiest thing. And now this—seeing Thaliah and Jalen again, the two people she’s ghosted harder than anyone—it feels like a hurdle she’s not sure she’s ready to face.

“They’re… hurt,” Paige finally says, her voice soft but steady. She’s always been honest with Dani, even when it’s hard to hear. “Thaliah’s pissed. Jalen, too. They feel like you just… disappeared on them. And that hurt them, Dani.”

Dani swallows, feeling the familiar sting of guilt settle in her chest. She knows that. She knows how much she’s hurt them. But hearing it from Paige, who’s probably been their buffer through all of this—it makes it worse somehow. She pulls her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest as she leans back against the headboard, her fingers picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I didn’t mean to hurt them,” Dani says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything. And I know that’s not an excuse, but…”

Paige looks at her then, her eyes softening. She shifts on the bed so she’s facing Dani fully, one leg folded underneath her. “I get it,” Paige says gently. “But you gotta understand, Dani—they’re not just goin’ to forget ‘bout what happened. You have to make it right.”

Dani nods, the knot in her chest tightening. She hates this. She hates feeling like the villain in a story she never wanted to be a part of. But she also knows that Paige is right. If she’s going to fix things with Thaliah and Jalen, she has to own up to what she’s done. She’s been avoiding that for too long now, thinking she could just skate by, keep her head down, and hope everything blows over.

“How mad are they, really?” Dani asks, her voice small, almost like she’s bracing herself for impact.

Paige lets out a long breath, rubbing a hand over her face before meeting Dani’s eyes again. “Thaliah jus’ feels like you dumped us for the popular crowd, and now that you’ve lost them, you’re coming back to us as a backup. She said she wants an apology. Jalen… he’s more hurt than mad, but it’s still going to take time. He wants to understand why, but you kind of shut everyone out. Including me.”

Dani winces. The truth stings, but it’s exactly what she expected. “I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” she mutters, frustration creeping into her tone. “It wasn’t like I wanted to leave you guys. I just… I dunno, I was going through a lot of shit.”

She knows she sounds defensive, but she can’t help it. She’s been wrestling with her own demons for months, and as much as she knows she screwed up, there’s still a part of her that wants them to understand. Wants Paige to understand.

Paige tilts her head, studying Dani for a moment before speaking. “I know you were. I get that, more than anyone. But you need to explain that to them. They can’t just guess what you’re going through.”

Dani’s eyes drop to her lap, guilt mixing with frustration. “I don’t even know if I can explain it,” she admits, her voice cracking. “There’s just… so much.”

She feels the weight of everything pressing down on her—the months of confusion, of fear, of trying to figure out who she is while constantly feeling like she’s drowning in expectations she can’t meet. The summer spent at that camp, the suffocating guilt that still clings to her even now. It’s all too much sometimes, and Dani doesn’t know how to package it all neatly into an apology.

Paige leans in, her hand brushing against Dani’s knee in a way that’s comforting, grounding. “You don’t have to explain everything. Just start with ‘I’m sorry.’ The rest’ll come.”

Dani looks at Paige, her chest tightening again, but this time it’s different. There’s something warm in the way Paige is looking at her—something patient, something real. It reminds her why she’s here in the first place, why she’s willing to go through this awkward, painful reconciliation. She missed Paige. She missed her more than she could ever say.

“Okay,” Dani says quietly, nodding.

Paige smiles then, that small, gentle smile that always makes Dani feel like maybe everything’s going to be okay. The kind of smile that got her through middle school, through all the awkward, awful years of figuring out who they were together. And now, maybe, they’re figuring it out again.

Before Dani can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door, and the sound of voices filters in from the hallway—Thaliah and Jalen have arrived. Dani feels her stomach flip, anxiety tightening its grip on her again, but Paige squeezes her knee, a small reassurance before she stands up.

DANI SITS in the backseat of Jalen’s car, staring out the window, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The soft hum of the engine and the occasional muffled voices of Jalen and Thaliah are the only sounds filling the silence. It’s awkward—really awkward. The tension in the car is almost palpable, like a weight pressing down on Dani’s chest, and no amount of deep breathing is helping her get rid of it.

She glances over at Paige beside her, whose eyes are focused on her phone, seemingly unbothered by the uncomfortable atmosphere. Dani, though, can feel every second dragging on. She feels like she’s intruding, lacking the belonging she used to feel.

It isn’t supposed to be like this. Dani tried to fix things earlier, back when they were still at Paige’s house, standing awkwardly in the doorway as Thaliah and Jalen walked in. She’d worked up the courage to apologize, knowing that they both deserved it and it needed to be done. But before she could even get halfway through the first sentence, Thaliah cut her off.

“We’re late,” Thaliah snapped, her gaze avoiding Dani altogether. “We need to leave now.”

She hadn’t even looked at Dani, hadn’t let her finish. And now, Thaliah’s silent treatment is even worse. She refuses to acknowledge Dani’s presence, her eyes trained forward in the passenger seat, body angled slightly away as if Dani’s existence is something she’s choosing to ignore.

Jalen, at least, isn’t so bad. He smiled at her when they first got there, a small, hesitant smile that made Dani’s stomach unclench for a moment. He doesn’t seem to hate her, but the difference between how things used to be and how they are now is still glaring. His warmth feels distant, like a memory she’s grasping for but can’t quite reach.

Dani’s fingers twitch in her lap. She feels like she should say something; try to break the ice. But every time she opens her mouth, the words die in her throat, swallowed by the heavy silence. There’s this growing sense of dread in her chest, like she’s on the outside of a life she used to belong to, looking in through a foggy window.

Her mind replays her failed apology, over and over, until it stings so much she has to squeeze her eyes shut for a second. It’s worse than she thought it would be.

Beside her, Paige shifts slightly, adjusting her seatbelt. Dani feels a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly Paige fits into this scene, like nothing’s changed for her. Because it hasn’t really.

The car hits a bump, jostling Dani from her thoughts, and she presses herself closer to the door, feeling like she needs to take up as little space as possible. Her chest feels tight, anxiety winding itself up inside her like a spring ready to snap. She presses her nails into the palm of her hand, a small, grounding action she’s done a million times before.

Then, out of nowhere, she feels it. The soft brush of Paige’s pinky against hers. It’s so subtle that for a second, Dani wonders if it was just her imagination. But then Paige’s pinky hooks around hers, intertwining them in a simple, quiet gesture.

Dani turns her head to look at Paige, and even though Paige is still staring at her phone, the small act of comfort is enough to pull Dani back from the edge of her spiraling thoughts. Paige knows. She always knows.

The knot of anxiety in Dani’s chest loosens just a little, and she offers Paige a small smile in return. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a reminder that, despite everything—despite how different and weird everything feels—Paige is still here. Paige is still hers, in some way.

The silence stretches on again, thick and uncomfortable, but the connection between her and Paige helps. Dani keeps her pinky linked with Paige’s, like it’s her only lifeline in the storm of awkwardness swirling around them.

The car ride doesn’t last much longer. Soon, Jalen is pulling into the parking garage, and between him and Paige, the awkward energy in the car begins to bleed into one of excitement. Jalen’s grin is contagious, his eyes bright as he shuts the car off, and Paige is right there with him, a wide smile splitting her face.

Dani—not so much. She feels the heavy weight of the tension that’s been trailing her since the moment they got into the car, and from the way Thaliah’s sitting stiffly in her seat, Dani knows she’s not the only one. Thaliah is quieter than she’s been in the past, the sharpness in her expression tempered, but Dani can tell she’s still pissed solely because of her presence.

As they get out of the car and begin walking toward the arena, Jalen and Paige lead the way, talking animatedly about the Timberwolves’ latest games and their score predictions for today. Thaliah lingers behind them, silent, her arms crossed over her chest, and Dani is acutely aware of her presence at her side. She sees the dirty look Thaliah throws her, the subtle but deliberate shift in her body language as she moves past Dani to walk next to Jalen instead, seamlessly falling into step beside him like Dani doesn’t even exist.

Dani’s heart sinks a little further, the sting of it sharp despite everything. She already expected the cold shoulder, but seeing it—feeling it in every glance, every movement—makes it so much harder to ignore.

Paige notices it too. Dani catches the brief drop in Paige’s smile as her gaze flicks to Thaliah, eyes narrowing in irritation. Paige rolls her eyes, a quick flash of annoyance breaking through her usual composure before her grin returns. Without missing a beat, Paige wraps an arm around Dani’s shoulders, tugging her close, her body warm and familiar.

The side of Dani’s head rests against Paige’s shoulder, their height difference making the gesture feel even more intimate, like Paige is shielding her from the mess they’re all stuck in. Dani tilts her head up slightly, meeting Paige’s gaze as she grins down at her.

“This’ll be fun,” Paige says, her voice light and filled with optimism, like she’s determined to make this a good night despite everything.

Dani musters a small smile, trying to match Paige’s energy. “Yeah,” she says, but the word comes out flat, and she can see that it’s not enough for Paige.

Paige pinches Dani’s shoulder lightly, a playful edge to her voice as she nudges her again. “Come on, get excited, Dan.”

Dani forces herself to let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she leans a little closer into Paige’s warmth. “Alright, alright,” she says, her smile a little more genuine this time. “I’ll try.”

Satisfied with that, Paige’s grin widens, and she keeps her arm around Dani as they continue walking toward the arena. It helps, even if just a little. Paige has always had that effect on her, making things feel easier, less heavy. But it doesn’t completely erase the weight of Thaliah’s pointed silence, or the fact that Dani can practically feel the disdain radiating from her.

By the time they get into the arena and find their seats, Dani’s stomach is in knots again. The seating arrangement couldn’t have been worse if someone had planned it out. Jalen sits on one end, Paige right next to him, Dani beside Paige, and then Thaliah on the other side of Dani, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Thaliah doesn’t say anything, but the look on her face says enough. She lets out a quiet scoff, her gaze fixed ahead as if she’s already checked out of the evening. Dani catches the slight roll of her eyes before she shifts in her seat, visibly tense, and Dani feels the urge to disappear all over again.

Dani sighs softly, sinking further into her seat and trying to shift away from Thaliah as much as possible without making it obvious. Her side presses into Paige’s, their arms brushing, and Paige doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Dani thinks Paige probably prefers it this way, keeping Dani close and holding her steady like she’s done a million times before.

As the arena starts to fill with the low hum of chatter and excitement, Dani finds herself leaning into Paige just a little more, seeking the comfort she knows Paige will give her without question. She feels a soft pang of guilt, wondering if she’s relying too much on Paige to make her feel better, but the alternative—sitting there in silence, stewing in her own anxiety and the cold wall between her and Thaliah—is much worse.

It’s clear pretty early on into the game that they aren’t losing this one. Minnesota’s ahead, and the energy in the arena is infectious. Every time the Timberwolves make a good play, Jalen is up on his feet, yelling, and Paige is right there with him, her voice hoarse from screaming at the top of her lungs. It’s the kind of excitement that pulls you in, makes you forget about everything else. Dani finds herself caught up in it too, even letting out a few shouts of her own when Paige eggs her on, laughing as Paige grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her gently, her enthusiasm impossible to resist.

Thaliah, though, is a different story. She’s still sitting with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, barely reacting to anything happening on the court. Every so often, Dani glances her way and all she gets is a glare in return. Being close to Paige right now—feeling her warmth, hearing her laughter in her ear—makes everything feel a lot easier, though. Paige has her arm around Dani’s shoulder again, and they’re both giggling between plays, Paige whispering jokes and comments to her every so often, just loud enough for Dani to hear. It’s been forever since they’ve felt this close, and for a moment, Dani lets herself relax into it, lets herself enjoy the game, the atmosphere, Paige.

And Jalen—he’s warming up to her again too. At first, there had been a little distance between them, but now he’s talking to her like old times, nudging her shoulder when something exciting happens and even giving her a smile that feels genuine. It’s a small relief, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could get back to how they used to be.

But, for Dani, Thaliah’s discontent still casts a shadow over everything. She can’t fully escape it, no matter how much fun she’s having. It’s like a weight sitting on her chest. She wants to fix what’s happened between them—Thaliah has been one of her closest friends since the fourth grade. She doesn’t want to lose that—even though, if she truly has, she supposes it is her own fault.

At one point, Thaliah stands abruptly, muttering, “I’m going to the bathroom,” her tone clipped as she walks down the aisle. Dani watches her go, and the guilt she’s been carrying with her all night surges up again. She sighs, feeling the heaviness return as she stands up as well.

“You know what, I’m gonna go too,” Dani says to Paige, her voice quieter now.

Paige frowns, her eyes flicking to Thaliah’s retreating figure before locking back onto Dani. There’s a moment of hesitation, like Paige can sense what’s really going on, the unspoken tension that Dani’s been trying to push aside. “Do you want me to come?” Paige asks, concern lacing her words.

Dani shakes her head, offering a small, strained smile. “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

Paige’s frown deepens for a split second, but then she nods, giving Dani a quick squeeze on the shoulder before she goes. Dani makes her way through the crowded stands and down the hallway toward the bathroom, her heart pounding harder with each step. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s going to say to Thaliah, but she knows they can’t keep avoiding each other like this. Not anymore.

When she pushes the door open, the bathroom is surprisingly empty for a busy game like this. It’s just her and Thaliah.

Thaliah stands at one of the sinks, leaning over to check her reflection in the mirror. When she sees Dani walk in, she lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls her eyes, not even bothering to hide her irritation. “Why did you follow me here?” she snaps, turning around to face Dani with crossed arms.

Dani swallows. “I wanted to talk to you. You didn’t let me apologize before, so I want to do it now.”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Despite the fact that she expected the response, Dani feels a pang of hurt at her words. Nevertheless, she presses on, refusing to back down. “Why won’t you even let me try?” she asks, her voice softer now. “I know I messed up, but—”

Before she can finish, Thaliah explodes.

“Because it’s not that simple, Dani!” Thaliah’s voice is sharp, her eyes flashing with anger. “You ghosted me. You. And you didn’t just ghost me, you ghosted all of us. And yeah, I get it, you and Paige are best friends, you always have been. But before all this happened, you were my best friend, too. Do you even realize that? You were my best friend, and then you just—disappeared. No explanation, no warning, nothing. And I had to sit there and watch you be fine with everyone else while I was the one who lost my best friend.”

Thaliah’s voice cracks at the last part, her hands trembling as she wipes furiously at her eyes, and Dani’s heart drops. She’s never heard Thaliah sound like this before—so raw, so hurt.

Thaliah takes a shaky breath, and when she looks at Dani again, her eyes are filled with tears. “I mean, sure, I’m close with Paige and Jalen, but it was never like how it was with you. You and me—we told each other everything. We did all the girly things that Paige and J refused to participate in. You were like my sister. And then, suddenly, it was like I didn’t even exist to you anymore. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Dani feels her own tears welling up now, the guilt crashing over her in waves. She takes a step closer to Thaliah, her voice breaking as she tries to explain. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I swear I didn’t. I just… I was in a really, really bad place and I was looking for distractions and I didn’t know how to deal with what happened over the summer.”

Thaliah shakes her head, her tears falling freely now. “What happened, Dani? What was so bad that you couldn’t even talk to me about it?”

Dani’s throat tightens as she thinks back to the summer—how everything spiraled out of control, how she was sent away to that camp, how she shut down completely afterward. It’s hard to even think about it, let alone fucking talk about it. Opening up to Paige about it was one of the most difficult things she’s ever done.

But she owes Thaliah an explanation. She owes her more than silence.

So, Dani opens her mouth and explains.

PAIGE IS GLUED to the game, her eyes darting between the players on the court and the scoreboard. Minnesota’s still in the lead, and every play sends her and Jalen into loud cheers, their voices blending into the roar of the crowd. She’s so caught up in the excitement that for a moment, she forgets about Dani and Thaliah being gone for a while now.

But as a timeout is called, the creeping feeling of unease seeps into her chest. It’s been too long since they left. Paige starts to wonder if something went wrong. Her mind drifts to outrageous scenarios like Thaliah jumping Dani in the bathroom or the pair rage-screaming at one another. She should’ve gone with them, Paige thinks, her foot tapping anxiously as she debates whether she should go check on them.

Just as she’s about to make a decision, Paige catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head and sees them—Thaliah and Dani walking down the aisle toward their seats. As they get closer, Paige notices the remnants of tears on both of their faces, their eyes bloodshot and a bit puffy, like they’ve both been crying.

Her stomach tightens. Did something happen?

But then she sees something else—something that surprises her. They’re smiling. Not big, exaggerated smiles, but small, genuine ones, the kind that tell her things aren’t as bad as they seem.

When they sit back down, Dani takes her spot next to Paige, and Thaliah settles back into her seat on the end. Paige’s eyes flit between the two of them, trying to gauge the situation. She can’t help but blurt out, “Uh, is everything okay?”

Dani and Thaliah exchange a tiny smile before Dani turns to Paige. Her smile is soft, and before Paige can process it, Dani’s pinky hooks around hers. It’s the smallest gesture, but it sends a jolt through Paige, her heart pounding twice as fast as before. She can barely focus on anything else, her eyes fixed on their intertwined fingers. She did it before with Dani, in the car, but it means so much more to Paige when it’s the Callan girl initiating it.

“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice light, like a weight has been lifted. “We’re great.”

Paige exhales in relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension she didn’t even realize she was holding slips away. She glances over at Jalen, who seems to have noticed the shift too. His eyebrows raise for a moment before he grins, the same ease settling over him as well.

With that, the atmosphere around them changes. The tension that had been hanging in the air for most of the night dissolves, replaced with a warmth that feels almost nostalgic. It’s like things are finally starting to feel normal again, like the cracks between them have truly started to mend. Paige doesn’t know what exactly happened between Dani and Thaliah in that bathroom, but she can tell it’s something important—something that has brought them closer, and by extension, all of them closer.

Now, they’re all locked in on the game again, but this time, the mood is lighter, more carefree. Laughing, cheering, yelling. Paige is wrapped up in it all—Jalen’s infectious energy, Dani’s quiet giggling beside her, Thaliah’s occasional smile.

When the Timberwolves win, the place erupts, and so do they. Jalen’s on his feet, yelling like he’s won the game himself. Dani and Paige share a wide grin, their pinkies still linked, and even Thaliah’s laughing and cheering now.

The ride home is great, too, the tension from the day dissolved into laughter and easy conversation. Paige can’t stop smiling, her heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. Jalen’s blasting music, and he and Thaliah are in the middle of a ridiculous debate about the best Timberwolves player of all time, while Dani chimes in with little comments that show her lack of NBA knowledge (but, it’s okay, Paige has to give it to her—Dani’s much more versed on the women’s side of things). It feels like old times, like everything is clicking back into place, and Paige can’t help but soak it in.

Jalen drops them off first, pulling into Paige’s driveway. She and Dani both wave at him and Thaliah as they drive away. The car’s taillights fade into the distance, leaving just the two of them standing in the driveway under the quiet suburban night sky.

Suddenly, the lively energy from the car ride fades into something softer, quieter. The silence between them feels heavier now, almost awkward, but not in a bad way—just charged. Paige feels the weight of it, a kind of tension that makes her hyper-aware of how close they’re standing, the cool night air brushing against her skin.

They both glance over at Dani’s house next door. It’s dark, a single light on in the kitchen, and Paige wonders if Dani is going to head back home now. She doesn’t want her to. The idea of the night ending like this feels wrong somehow. Paige shifts on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to find the right words without sounding desperate or clingy.

“So, uh,” Paige starts, her voice quiet, “you wanna… come inside? I mean, we could, like, have a sleepover or something. You know, like old times.”

She bites her lip, not wanting to pressure Dani but also not wanting to be without her. She half-expects Dani to hesitate or maybe even say no, to come up with some excuse about being tired or needing to go home. But to her surprise, Dani doesn’t hesitate at all. Instead, she smiles softly at Paige, her eyes warm and familiar in a way that makes Paige’s chest flutter.

“Sure,” Dani says, shrugging like it’s the easiest decision in the world. “I told my dad I was staying at Serena’s house anyway.”

Paige grins, a laugh bubbling up before she can stop it. “That bitch,” she says, shaking her head, knowing Serena has no idea she’s covering for Dani tonight, especially because the pair are certainly not friends anymore.

Dani laughs too, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that bitch.”

The air feels lighter now, the awkwardness between them disappearing as they head toward the front door. Paige unlocks it as quietly as she can, her heart beating a little faster at the thought of spending the night with Dani, just like they used to. It’s been so long since things were simple between them. So much has changed, but right now, it feels like they’ve found a piece of that simplicity again.

Inside, the house is dark and still. Paige’s dad and Drew must already be asleep, and she’s careful to keep the noise to a minimum as they slip upstairs to her room. When they reach her bedroom, Paige flips on the lamp by her bedside, casting a warm glow over the space. Dani immediately flops onto the bed like she belongs there, and Paige follows, laying down next to her.

They’re both quiet for a moment, just staring at the ceiling, the comfort of being back in each other’s space washing over them. Paige turns her head, looking at Dani from the side, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You want pajamas?”

“Sure,” Dani says, voice soft and relaxed.

Paige gets up, heading to her dresser and grabbing one of her oversized basketball t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. She tosses them to Dani, who sits up to catch them, and then Paige pulls out her own pajamas. She starts changing, pulling off her hoodie and t-shirt, when she glances back at Dani.

Dani’s back is to her, bare as she pulls off her own shirt to change into Paige’s. The lamplight casts a soft glow on her skin, and for a second too long, Paige’s eyes linger. She doesn’t mean to stare, but something about the sight of Dani’s bare back, the curve of her shoulder blades, the way her hair falls loosely against her neck, makes her pause. Fuck.

Paige’s breath catches, her fingers frozen mid-way through pulling off her hoodie. She blinks, quickly looking away, shaking her head to clear the sudden rush of thoughts. She tells herself to get it together, to not think of Dani quite like that quite yet. She needs more time.

Paige turns back around, facing the opposite direction as she finishes changing, tugging on her own pajama shirt and shorts. By the time she’s done, she feels a little more in control of herself, though the memory of Dani’s bare back is still burned into her mind.

When she faces her bed again, Dani is already lying back down on the comforter, now dressed in Paige’s clothes. The sight of Dani in her shirt, her shorts hanging loosely on Dani’s hips, does something to Paige, makes her stomach flip in a way that’s both exciting and terrifying.

But she pushes the feeling aside, climbing into bed next to Dani. And it’s not long before they’re curled up under the covers, watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—Dani’s pick, of course. It’s one of those movies she’s obsessed with, knows every line by heart. Normally, Paige would tease her about it, making fun of how she could watch it a million times, but right now, she can’t even think about anything other than how close they are.

Her room is freezing—like, Minnesota-in-the-dead-of-winter kind of freezing—and they’ve naturally started gravitating toward each other for warmth. Dani’s pressed up against Paige, her head resting on the blonde’s shoulder, her arm draped lazily across Paige’s waist. Paige has one arm around the brunette, and as much as she’s trying to focus on the movie, trying to lock her eyes on the screen, it’s hard. Really hard.

Because Dani’s skin is warm. Her legs are tangled with Paige’s under the blankets, her breath soft and steady against Paige’s neck, and all of it is making the basketball player’s heart race in ways she’s desperately trying to ignore. She tells herself it’s just because it’s cold, because this is what best friends do, but her body is betraying her. Every time Dani shifts, every time her fingers brush against Paige’s side, it feels like a shot of electricity running through the blonde, and suddenly, the cold is the least of her worries.

Paige swallows, forcing herself to focus on the movie. She’s watching Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson argue about something stupid on the screen, but her mind’s not there. It’s on Dani. Paige has got this growing warmth in her chest, and it’s spreading fast, heating up every part of her.

She tries to push the thoughts out of her head. Dani’s been through so much, and the last thing Paige wants to do is push her or make her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t even know if Dani’s ready for anything after everything that happened with her dad and… well, everything else. She doesn’t want to be the one to rush her into anything, not when she’s finally here, back in Paige’s bed, back with Paige.

But then Dani shifts again, snuggling closer, and Paige feel the smoothness of her thigh against her own. She can’t help it; her heart skips a beat. She take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it’s getting harder to think straight. The scent of Dani’s shampoo, the way her hand rests on Paige’s stomach—it’s all too much.

The blonde turns her head slightly, glancing down at Dani. She’s watching the movie, but Paige can tell she’s not fully focused either. Her eyes flicker to Paige’s, and in the dim light from the TV, the Bueckers girl can see something there—something that makes her stomach flip.

For a second, they just stare at each other, the space between them shrinking by the second. Paige’s heart pounds so hard she swears the girl beside her can hear it. But this is it. Paige knows it, and she can’t look away. The way Dani’s looking at her—it’s like everything that’s been building between them for weeks is finally about to snap.

And then it does.

Surprisingly, Dani’s the one who moves first. She leans in, closing the gap between them, and presses her lips to Paige’s. It’s soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing the waters, but the second Paige feels the warmth of her mouth on her own, she’s gone. Her brain short-circuits, and all the restraint she’s been trying to maintain disappears.

Paige kisses her back, probably a little too enthusiastically, but she can’t help it. One of her hands instinctively moves to the back of Dani’s neck, Paige’s fingers tangling in the girl’s brown hair as she pulls her closer, deepening the kiss. Dani tastes like the strawberry chapstick Paige watched her put on earlier, and her lips are soft and warm and everything the blonde has been dying to feel for longer than she cares to admit.

Dani’s kissing her back now, harder, her body pressing into Paige’s as they lie there, tangled in the sheets. Paige’s mind screams at her to stop, to slow down, but she can’t. She doesn’t want to. Her heart pounds in her chest, and every nerve in her body is on fire. The feel of Dani, the warmth of her skin, the way she moves against Paige—it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and all the point guard wants is more.

Paige knows she should stop. She knows that if she’s not careful, she’ll scare Dani away again, just like before. She can’t mess this up. She can’t. But still, she doesn’t stop. She feels Dani’s fingers gripping her shirt, pulling Paige closer, and it feels like Dani doesn’t want Paige to stop either.

So she doesn’t.

Instead, she deepens the kiss, her hand sliding from the back of Dani’s neck down to her waist, holding her there like she’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Dani lets out a soft sigh against Paige’s lips, and it sends a shiver down the blonde’s spine. God.

In a sudden shift, Paige find herself on top of Dani, her knees sinking into the bed as she presses down against the brunette. Paige’s hands dig into Dani’s waist, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. Paige can’t help but smile against Dani’s mouth, a thrill washing over her. Dani’s hands find their way into Paige’s hair, tangling in the strands, and the blonde shivers at the sensation. Dani’s so responsive, so willing, and it makes Paige feel exhilarated and relieved all at once.

As she kisses Dani, a wave of pure elation washes over Paige, and she realizes just how much she’s longed for this. She didn’t know how much she needed her like this until now. Paige can feel Dani’s warmth radiating up through and into Paige’s own body, and every touch ignites a spark that sends the blonde’s heart racing.

Paige starts to kiss along the Callan girl’s cheek, trailing her lips down her jawline, savoring the way Dani reacts. Her sighs are intoxicating, a melody Paige never wants to stop hearing. When she kisses along the brunette’s neck, a soft gasp escapes her lips, and it fills Paige with a sense of pride that she can elicit that kind of response from her. It’s fucking perfect.

Paige’s hands instinctively wander beneath the hem of Dani’s—well, technically her own—shirt, fingers gliding across her soft skin. The moment Paige realizes Dani’s not wearing a bra, her breath hitches. A rush of heat floods through her, a mix of surprise and unrestrained want that makes her heart race even faster.

Paige finds one of Dani’s breasts, wrapping her hand around it. She squeezes lightly, her thumb brushing over Dani’s nipple. Dani’s hand tightens in Paige’s hair and she’s pulling Paige back so that their lips are connected once more. Paige’s tongue slips its way into Dani’s mouth and she kneads her breast again, making Dani whimpers a little into the kiss. It only makes Paige kiss her harder. Dani’s lips feel like home against Paige’s, and the blonde can’t get enough of the taste of her, the softness that send shivers down her spine. Paige’s hands roam over Dani’s body, exploring, seeking, and finding every inch of skin that sends electric jolts through them both.

As Paige traces her fingers along Dani’s waist, she feels almost a magnetic pull drawing her lower. Her hand eventually finds the waistband of the loose pajama shorts Dani’s wearing, and Paige pauses there, heart racing, uncertainty flooding her mind. She’s kissing along the brunette’s neck, savoring her warmth, but Paige’s thoughts are tangled in fear. She doesn’t want to push Dani into something she isn’t ready for. The last thing she wants is to scare her away after they’ve fought so hard to get back here.

Paige breathes deeply, stealing a glance at Dani’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But Dani doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate. Instead, her grip on Paige’s hair tightens, and the blonde can feel Dani’s hips lift slightly against her, a silent permission that sends Paige’s heart soaring.

Emboldened by Dani’s response, Paige slips her fingers beneath the waistband of the shorts, her pulse quickening at the contact. She’s careful, her movements tentative as she goes beneath the hem of Dani’s underwear, too. Paige finds Dani’s clit easily enough, circling it slowly, carefully. The way Dani gasps at the touch is intoxicating, and Paige swallows the sound with another deep kiss, savoring the taste of Dani’s moans against her mouth.

Paige’s fingers move with more purpose now, circling Dani’s clit a couple more times before sliding her hand down slightly, pushing her middle finger inside. Paige hears Dani’s breath catch and so does her own as she feels Dani’s wetness coat her finger.

Paige has done this with other girls, done this with Dani once before, too—that summer night before everything went to shit. But this feels different; it feels better, deeper, as if all the months apart have heightened every sensation. Paige revels in it, enjoying the way Dani moves beneath her touch, the way she leans into Paige, wanting more.

Dani’s fingers are still tangled in Paige’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her on, and every gasp and sigh she releases ignites something within Paige. Paige’s lips linger along Dani’s jaw as she pushes her hand deeper into her pajama shorts, her middle finger pumping in and out of Dani’s entrance slowly. Paige is hyper-aware of the way the Callan girl’s breath quickens, how it becomes shaky and uneven as Paige’s finger moves slowly but surely.

Dani gasps again, mumbling as she shifts beneath the blonde a little, “P.” Her voice is desperate, like she needs more.

Paige hums, nodding against Dani, knowing exactly what to do. She slips another finger inside, stretching Dani out, pushing in and out, in and out, building a rhythm. Dani’s lips part and a moan slips out from beneath them. God, Paige could get lost in the sounds. Each whimper and moan that escapes Dani’s lips sends a thrill through the blonde, a rush of satisfaction that makes her want to hear more. It’s as if every sound that Dani makes is a piece of music Paige never knew she needed, and she wants to hit repeat, to keep her best friend whimpering like that for as long as possible. Each gasp, each sigh, it’s like a drug, and Paige is completely hooked.

Nevertheless, she knows that they have to be quiet. Her dad’s room is right next door, and Paige has no interest in waking him up and having him realize what exactly is going on in his daughter’s room. So, she presses her mouth back on Dani’s, swallowing her moans, humming in approval at the feeling.

Paige pushes her fingers deeper, a little harder, feeling the way Dani shivers beneath her. When Paige feels Dani lift her hips to meet her hand, bucking up, Paige knows she’s found the rhythm and the spot Dani needs. Paige smiles into their kiss, her teeth nipping a little at the brunette’s bottom lip. Dani responds eagerly, her hand that’s on the back of Paige’s neck pulling her closer, until there’s practically no space to even breathe. Paige doesn't care.

“Like that?” Paige whispers against Dani’s lips, keeping her voice low and steady, wanting Dani to know she can be honest with her. Paige feels Dani nod against her, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over as she manages to hum out a soft, “Mhm-hm.” Paige grins a little at the response, her tongue slipping back into Dani’s mouth as she kisses her harder.

Paige focuses on the spot she’s found, her fingers pressing in just the right way. The way Dani arches her back and digs her nails into the blonde’s neck tells Paige everything she needs to know. She curls her fingers in a come hither motion and it makes Dani’s hips stutter a little, the brunette gasping Paige’s name into her mouth.

“Doin’ so good for me, Dan,” Paige encourages, her voice barely above a whisper, urging her best friend on. She can feel Dani tightening around her fingers, feel her getting wetter and wetter with each thrust of Paige’s fingers. Paige hits that spot again and again, her thumb reaching up to circle Dani’s clit.

Dani’s breathing becomes more erratic, quick bursts of air escaping her lips as Paige continues to work her fingers, pushing her closer and closer. “So pretty, Dani,” Paige murmurs, even though she’s not sure if the girl can hear her over the sound of her own gasps. But Paige needs her to know—she deserves to hear it, to feel it in every part of her. “You’re so pretty.”

Suddenly, Paige feels Dani’s body tense, feels the way she’s clenching around her fingers. Dani’s nails are digging into the back of Paige’s neck, her grip tightening. Paige works her fingers harder, faster, hitting that spot again and again and again until her hand is cramping, but it doesn’t deter her. She keeps going until Dani’s muttering, “God, Paige, I’m gonna—” and she’s gushing around Paige’s fingers.

Dani’s body shudders beneath the blonde, her hips lifting instinctively to meet Paige’s touch as she helps her ride through her orgasm. Paige is lost in the way Dani’s body reacts, the way she clings to her as if she’s her lifeline. It’s everything Paige has ever wanted.

As she finishes, Paige feels Dani relax against her, her body softening, and Paige pulls her fingers out slowly. She pulls away from Dani a little, to see her face. Dani’s smiling lazily at her, and it makes Paige smile, too. Paige leans down to kiss her again, deeply, savoring the way their lips fit together.

I love you. Paige wants to say it. She’s never wanted to say anything more. But she doesn’t, instead keeps her mouth on Dani’s, afraid that she’ll ruin the moment and scare Dani away.

As the kiss ends, Paige gently rolls off of Dani, settling so they’re lying side by side. Dani’s arm drapes over Paige’s waist, and Paige pulls her closer, the feel of Dani’s steady breathing against her chest soothing in a way that grounds her.

They’re both quiet now, the sounds of the movie filling the room. Dani nestles into Paige, her face resting in the crook of Paige’s neck, and it makes Paige’s heart swell. There’s something so innocent, so peaceful about the way Dani clings to her, trusting and content.

It doesn’t take long before Dani’s breaths become slow and even, and Paige realizes she’s fallen asleep. Paige glances down at her, taking in the sight of her best friend—her person—so calm and safe in her arms. Dani looks so different like this, her usual guard completely down, her features soft and untroubled.

But as Paige watches her sleep, her thoughts begin to drift. She can’t help but think about all the shit Dani’s been through—the conversion therapy, the isolation, the fear. A tightness forms in Paige’s chest, a knot of guilt that’s been there for months. She knows some of it is her fault. She was the one that kissed Dani on the porch that night, right in front of the camera. Maybe if she’d waited until they got inside, Dani’s dad would’ve never found out and none of this would have happened.

Paige’s jaw clenches as she thinks about Dani’s father. The man who sent her to that camp, who made her believe there was something wrong with her. The anger that bubbles up inside Paige is almost overwhelming. She hates him for what he’s done to Dani, for the pain he’s caused her.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of Dani’s head, her fingers brushing lightly through her hair. Paige just wants to protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her happy. And most of all, keep her away from him—from the man who nearly destroyed her. Still, she knows that’s unrealistic. Dani lives with her father—he provides for her, he’s her guardian and shes still a minor.

Paige sighs, tightening her grip around Dani, holding her a little closer, a silent promise to herself that she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Dani never feels that kind of pain again. She’ll be there, she’ll fight for her, and she won’t let Dani’s father mess with what they have.

As the weight of the day starts to pull at her, Paige closes her eyes, resting her cheek against Dani’s hair. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days plays on, but Paige isn’t paying attention to it anymore. All that matters is this—Dani here with her, the two of them together.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb #hopkins p fic #take me to church #uconn #wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #wlw

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hollowdeath · 1 year ago

Note

I just wanna start with saying I think you’re an incredible writer. I found your work recently and can’t stop reading. The way you craft y/n and your storyline, ✨ CHEF’S KISS ✨ absolutely MAGNIFICENT. so that’s first lol before anything else.

I did have a request, if it’s up to your liking!!!! I was thinking of:

(After war)

All throughout their years at Hogwarts (as kind of a golden “quartet”) there was always that would they wouldn’t they vibe between Harry and y/n. They cared a little too much about each other, looked a little too long, got a little too cranky and involved when they dated others. They had quite the falling out after Harry and Ginny got more serious and y/n admitted her feelings and Harry said too late. Fast fwd, Harry and Ginny have since broken up and it’s Ron and Hermione’s wedding. Maybe somehow they get stuck together at the venue or cottage that was rented, somehow stuck before the wedding for hours, stuff goes down, whatever you think, feelings, sexy time, Harry shows her what she’s missed and they finally give in. So much angst, and dirtiness, and yeah 🤷🏽‍♀️ that’s all I got 😂

thank you so much for your request! this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry were each other's childhood crushes, but things never quite worked out between you two. years later ron & hermione devise a plan to get you to make up just before their wedding.

c/w: alcohol, angst, smut!!!! (penetrative sex)

word count: 7.9k

you had been incredibly overjoyed to open the letter left at your door and see it was an invitation to ron and hermione's wedding. the moving portrait of them holding each other and laughing on the front of the invite made you smile, their faces slightly wrinkled from time. it had been nearly 5 years since you'd last seen them. of course you always meant to keep in contact with everyone after leaving, but it didn't quite work out that way. you had spoken to ron a few times here and there and kept in pretty regular contact with hermione over the years, but you knew it was never going to be the same. not just because of time, but hurt feelings as well.

see, it wasn't just you, ron, and hermione back in school. in fact, people mostly only knew of your group because of one person in particular: harry potter.

harry and ron had been sitting in their train car on the way to hogwarts when you and hermione stopped to introduce yourselves. you felt a special connection to harry right away, experiencing butterflies in your stomach for the first time when you shook his hand and told him your name. of course you'd heard of harry potter before, no young witch or wizard at the time hadn't. but you didn't let that cloud your friendship with him, a friendship that continued to grow for years.

you and harry hit it off well. everyone in the friend group got along great, but there was always something different about you and harry. unlike ron and hermione who gradually grew into their romance over the years, you and harry had romantic tension right away. even just that first day on the train, neither of you could stop blushing or stealing sneaky glances at one another the entire ride to hogwarts.

throughout your first and second years, the four of you grew incredibly close as you found yourselves on wild and often dangerous adventures together. by your third year, things became a little more complicated as crushes, dating, and relationships became the topic of interest within the walls of hogwarts. who was dating who, who liked who, or who could put a love spell on who the quickest.

it was no secret that you and harry liked each other. at least to everyone else. you always laughed a bit harder at harry's jokes, harry's eyes always seemed to linger on you a bit longer than normal, and, after a while, you were both clearly envious of any attention given to someone else even in the littlest way.

it all started with a boy from your transfigurations class who set his sights on you towards the end of year three. you weren't interested, of course, your sights had always been set on harry, but that didn't stop the boy from doing everything he could to try and insert himself between you two.

harry caught on right away, and was completely annoyed at the situation. he'd roll his eyes any time the kid was around, made snappy remarks when he tried to speak to him, and often outright ignored him completely. you'd noticed a change in harry's attitude, but didn't have long to process what it meant before he began talking to a girl from his defense against the dark arts class.

harry began bringing her around more and more, which, in turn, made you fume. you'd always assumed you had an unspoken understanding with harry that you both liked each other, but apparently you had been proven wrong. you played off your jealousy well for a while, but it wasn't easy to hide how upsetting the entire ordeal was for you.

this cycle would continue with harry into your fourth year once he started to grow closer to cho chang. as a sort of retaliation, you began dating your first official boyfriend not long after you learned harry was taking cho to the yule ball. harry didn't react well to this at all, nearly turning the kid into a hairless rat before ron could calm him down.

though your friendship with harry would remain civil throughout this time, it was clear you were both only "dating" people as a way to get each other's attention. between the vengeful flings were constant flirtatious moments, playful teasing, and lingering touches that left no mystery to everyone around you.

however, things were different once ginny got involved. at first you assumed it was just another way for harry to make you jealous, a close hit to home that would only last as long as the others did before inevitably fizzling out. however, the longer it went on, the more worried you became. no 'girlfriend' of harry's had lasted more than a few weeks, let alone entire months that went by without any sign of slowing down.

it had gone past the point of being able to bring a guy around to grab harry's attention, in fact he only seemed increasingly unbothered each time. you finally came to ron and hermione nearly in tears as you confessed your feelings towards harry to them, to no surprise on their part, and begged for guidance on how to navigate the situation without disrespecting ron or his sister in the process.

ron sighed, meeting eyes with hermione before leveling with you. "look, [y/n]," he had said. "i love ginny more than anything in the world, and i would never do anything to ruin her happiness. but," he sighed again. "i've known how you felt for a long time now, and i would be an idiot to keep you from being honest with harry."

hermione had given you a hug, holding you tightly as she told you, "you deserve to be happy."

you found yourself having a moment alone with harry later that same week where you could finally get your feelings off your chest. you'd pulled him to the side and nervously attempted to explain yourself to him as he gave you an amused look.

"look, harry, i'm just going to come out with it and tell you something i should've told you a long time ago," you'd said, your voice shaking. you had to look away from his eyes in order to get the words out. "i-i like you, okay? i like you, a lot, and i know you're dating ginny now a-and that's great and all, but…" you'd gotten choked up as a flood of emotions washed over you.

"please, harry, just…please, i can't watch this any more, it's killing me," you spit out, turning away from him and crossing your arms as you bury your face in your shoulder. "i love you." you'd said quietly.

harry no longer looked amused as he crossed his arms as well, his expression tightening. "what exactly do you want me to do, [y/n]?" he'd asked curtly, his voice cold. you looked at him, confused, studying his body language as your eyebrows furrowed together. "i…" you stuttered.

"what, you think now because you're ready for me i should just break up with ginny?" he asked, seeming slightly annoyed. you gave him a look before uncrossing your arms. "no, i don't think that, actually." you told him coldly.

"then what the hell do you want from me, [y/n]? i spent 5 bloody years pining after you while you treated me like a brother. now that i'm finally finding happiness in someone who actually wants me you want to tell me this? well, you're too late," harry ranted at you, his hands frustratedly raised as his expression got angrier.

you were speechless, your mouth slightly hung open at his confession of attraction while he stepped around you. before he could leave, you turned to harry one last time with tears in your eyes. "you blithering idiot, i've liked you since the moment we met that day on the train!" you exclaimed at him, your voice full of pain. harry looked at you, his eyes widening as you came closer to him, your finger digging into his chest.

"it's because of your ignorance that this is happening. all i wanted was to be honest with you." you spat before taking your hand away, the tears falling down your cheeks. "but i hope you're happy, harry, i really do." you told him between gasps before turning and leaving him behind you.

it had been years since that fight, and you hadn't spoken with harry since. while you always tried to remain close with hermione and ron, your last few years at hogwarts were mostly spent alone, much like how they'd been since. you were conflicted, holding that invite in your hands, reading the details over and over again to yourself as you weighed your options. it was undoubted you would see harry again, your first time in person since leaving hogwarts, and you weren't sure if you could handle the confrontation.

but after a few days of thinking, you decided your friendship with ron and hermione had always meant more to you than your silly crush on harry did.

while making your reservation over the phone, the voice on the other line informed you that ron and hermione had specially reserved a cottage for you near the venue the day before the wedding in case you accepted the invite. you were floored at the news, nearly speechless as you thanked the operator for telling you with the call abruptly ending at the promise of a ride service the day of your stay.

and, without fail, there was a car waiting for you outside of your house the evening before the wedding ready to take you to your cottage.

what you hadn't planned on was the overwhelming snowfall that started halfway through your trip and only got worse the closer you got to your destination. by the time you were pulling your luggage out of the trunk, the snow was nearly up to your knees.

despite your worries about the weather, you were thrilled with the beautiful cabin ron and hermione had reserved for you. it had a warm fireplace, a fully stocked fridge, plenty of blankets, and a projector set up to play movies. you were just getting settled in when you heard the distinct sound of a car door outside. you froze, your heart thumping in your chest as you heard muffled voices and footsteps up to the unlocked door.

before you could move, the door opens to reveal a snow covered harry.

you were in shock watching him come through the door without so much as noticing you only a few feet away. it wasn't until he closed the door and took off his beanie that he finally locked eyes with you, jumping at your sudden presence.

"[y/n]?" he exclaimed. "what…what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of shock.

you blinked at him, trying to figure out how, of all people, harry potter had to be the one to show up at your door at this moment. "i could ask you the same," you deadpanned.

harry cracks a small smile, shaking off his coat and hanging it up beside the front door. "haven't changed a bit, have you?" he asks with a smirk.

"don't joke with me, potter. what the hell are you doing here? ron and hermione reserved this cabin for me only," you narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms as you took a few steps in his direction.

harry scoffed, shaking the remaining thick snowflakes out of his hair. it was longer than you'd seen him keep it before, and began to curl at the ends around his face. "well, they must've given you the wrong address, then. because this is my cabin." he told you simply.

you scoffed in return. "don't be ridiculous, they had a driver bring me here and everything. if anyone's in the wrong here it's you."

harry paused, turning his head to you slowly. "they got you a driver too?" he asked curiously. you gave him a confused look. "yes?" you said suspiciously.

harry sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "damn it," he cursed under his breath. "what?" you demanded to know, taking another step towards him as your eyes continued to study his face.

harry turned to the dining table as well as you, your eyes falling on a welcome basket you hadn't noticed before. as harry walks towards it, you see him grab for an envelope addressed to 'harry & [y/n]' in hermione's familiar script.

harry opens it, sighing as he reads the letter aloud. "dear harry and [y/n], enjoy your snowed-in stay together at the cottage until sunday, the actual date of our reception. can't wait to see you there, love you both, ron and hermione. p.s., don't be too mad at us!"

you're dumbfounded watching harry place the note back into the basket, his head falling forward. after a moment he shrugs, pulling the basket closer to him and opening one of the prepackaged candies.

"you can't be serious. i'm not doing this, i'm not staying with you in this cottage all weekend," you say with disgust as you walk towards a phone table near the couch. harry turns, stuffing his face with the candy and chuckling to himself watching you attempt to dial a number. "good luck getting a cab in this weather," you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you turn to the window and your mouth falls open at the sheer amount of snow that's fallen since you've arrived at the cottage. the bottoms of the windows are just barely covered with more piling on top quickly.

you frustratedly groan and slam the phone down, wracking your brain for a new solution to your predicament. you had to find a way out of here, there was no possible way you could handle another moment around harry like this, let alone an entire weekend.

just as you're about to start pacing, harry chimes in again. "look, it won't be so bad, alright?" he tries to console you, unwrapping yet another treat from the basket.

you narrow your eyes at harry again, feeling your blood boil at how much this situation isn't affecting him. granted, you weren't aware seeing him would have this much of an affect on you, but you were still hurt by everything that happened between you in the past. how else were you supposed to feel being confronted with your first love nearly 5 years after having your heart broken by him?

"easy for you to say, i'm sure this is nothing but a laugh for you." you snap at him once more, walking back towards the bedroom door. harry scoffs yet again. "what, you think i find this fun?" he laughs.

you turn to him, studying his expression with him doing the same to you. "you think i asked ron and hermione to put me in the same cabin as my ex-best-friend?" he asks sarcastically.

you wince at the title he's given you, turning your back to him once more as you enter the bedroom not far from him. "don't call me that. and no, i don't think you knew about this. but you were always good at assuming things about me, weren't you?" you asked sarcastically in return, angrily packing your clothes back into your luggage from their place on the bed.

harry takes a step into the room before pausing, his eyes landing on your half-folded clothes being angrily stuffed into the case. he looked up at you, his posture softening as he takes a smaller step towards you. "what are you doing?" he asks quietly.

you roll your eyes at his question. "what's it look like?" you ask him.

harry sighs, putting out a hand to stop you from continuing. "you don't have to leave, alright? if you really don't want me here i'll figure out a way home. i just thought it'd be nice to catch up again, y'know, like old times. i'm sure that's why ron and hermione put us here in the first place." harry reasons with you, your eyes connecting with his. you can smell him he's so close to you, his hand just barely hovering over yours.

your eyes search harry's, your stomach dropping at the familiarity of his gaze on you. you almost feel like a kid again, crushing on your best friend, the most amazing wizard hogwarts had ever seen, the sweetest boy you'd ever met with the prettiest eyes in the world.

you finally blink and look away, putting the clothes you were holding onto the bed again. you knew harry had a point. ron and hermione wouldn't house you together 2 days before the actual wedding just to mess with you. you knew in the past they wanted you to reconcile with harry, even if it was just to keep the peace, but you always refused their offers with tears stinging your eyes. you just weren't ready to open that chapter of your life again; though now, it seemed, you had no other choice.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing mind. "you're probably right," you say quietly, harry's arm dropping back to his side.

you turn to look at him again, taking a step back to put some room between you. "im sorry." you say simply. "you don't have to leave if you don't want to. though you should probably call ginny to let her know what's going on."

harry involuntarily laughs, his eyes crinkling as he tries to cover it with a cough. "uh, sorry?" he asked you incredulously. your brows pinch together in confusion. "uh, ginny? i'm sure you're well married by now, yeah? possibly even a kiddo or two?" you try to say lightheartedly, but your voice falters.

harry lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head at you as he heads towards the bedroom door. "right, yeah, think i'm good on that front," harry says between laughs, his hand resting on his chest.

you look after him confused, but decide to let it go as you unpack your clothes yet again. just as you're finishing up you hear the stove turn on, making your stomach growl. you didn't realize how hungry you'd gotten, but it was nearing nightfall and you hadn't even had breakfast today.

you walk into the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and the sight of harry cutting up strawberries. he looks over at you with a smile. "want some? i was starved," he offers. you hesitantly accept his offer, taking a seat at the dining table and grabbing the note from ron and hermione to read it over yourself.

harry noticed this and chuckled, plating up the first few pancakes off the frying pan. "pretty clever trick, if you ask me. i think it was all ron's idea."

you scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you study the letter. "oh please, you think ron would go through the trouble of sending us wrong invites just to get us in the same room together? this has hermione written all over it," you explain, setting the envelope back in the basket.

harry chuckles again, setting the plate of pancakes in front of you covered in syrup and strawberry slices. "you're probably right," he says warmly, heading back to the stove.

you have to admit, harry's pancakes were otherworldly. you had to hold yourself back from complimenting him too much as to not give him an ego. however you finished your plate before harry could even sit next to you with his, which made him smirk as he started digging in himself.

just as you finish washing off your plate, harry comes up beside you with his own. "you know, i figured, since there's only one bed, you should maybe have it for the night." he offers, washing his plate clean.

you turn to him, studying his face as he keeps his eyes on his hands. the offer was completely generous, and not something you expected from harry.

"oh, um, thank you, that's really kind of you. i don't mind sleeping on the couch, you know." you counter.

harry nods his head, turning off the sink and smiling over at you. "i know," he said. "neither do i."

you crack a small smile at him, the first one you've given him so far, and look away as you place the dried plate back in the cupboard. harry does the same and closes it for you.

you help harry get settled into the living room, laying out blankets for him on the couch as he fiddles with the projector and gets an old movie started for himself. you're about to say something to him when you turn and watch harry pull his shirt off and throw it in his suitcase. as he's pulling out his pajamas, you quickly divert your eyes before they can wander further down his torso.

you're still blushing by the time harry turns the lights off, smiling at the projected movie on the wall. "this is nice, you're welcome to sit and watch if you'd like." harry offers, turning to you. you shake your head, giving him a tight smile. "i'm just about to head to bed, actually."

harry nods, his smile slightly falling. "that's alright," he says.

you exchange an awkward goodnight with harry before closing your bedroom door, immediately letting your head fall into your hands in frustration. you were completely overwhelmed with everything going on you couldn't even begin to process what was happening. exhausted and confused, you got dressed for bed and settled into the sheets thinking about how close harry was to you after years of thinking you'd never see him again. the thought made your stomach tighten and your heart race.

you didn't leave your room until early the next afternoon, wasting time in the shower as you tried to prolong being away from harry and all the feelings that came with him. eventually you became too hungry and bored to sustain yourself much longer and finally entered the living room.

all of harry's blankets were folded back up and put away, with no sign of him sleeping on the couch left. you noticed him in the kitchen again, the smell of garlic and onions overwhelming your senses the closer you got.

harry noticed you and gave you a warm smile, eagerly grabbing for a bowl. "morning, sleepy head." he teases, offering you a bowl of pasta. "or should i say afternoon?"

you roll your eyes at him, but thank him for the food nonetheless. you take your first bite and can't help but moan at the flavor. harry turns to you with red cheeks.

"did ginny teach you how to cook or something?" you asked him, immediately going back for another bite as you lean against the counter beside him. harry just laughs and shakes his head at you again. "did ron and hermione really not tell you about anything after hogwarts?" he asked with an amused voice.

you give him a look, pausing from the food to answer his question. "well, to be fair, anytime we spoke i asked they not mention you at all…"

harry laughs at this, eating the rest of the pasta right out of the pot. "im flattered," he says sarcastically.

you nudge him with your elbow, holding back a chuckle of your own. "whatever. but tell me, what should i know?"

harry leans back against the counter as well, his eyes falling to the ground. "me and ginny, we broke up not long after the war." he tells you, his voice solemn as crosses his arms.

you set down your bowl, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth. "harry, i'm sorry. i had no idea," you apologize, turning to look at him fully. you feel guilty for bringing her up, but truly had no idea they'd ever separated. you assumed this whole time they were living some dream life off together in the countryside while you stayed in your hometown and wished things were different.

harry just shook his head and laughed, his eyes connecting with yours. "don't be. you didn't know. besides, it ended well. a bit awkward at the weasley christmases, but, y'know," he trails off. you giggle, but try to hide it from him. harry just laughs with you, his cheeks red.

"but, um, what about you? if i may ask," harry inquires.

you timidly lean back on the counter next to harry again, crossing your arms like him as well. "well, to be quite honest, i haven't done much since leaving hogwarts. i've got a place of my own if that means anything," you say with a hollow chuckle.

"better than me, i'd say. i'm still at grimmauld." harry reasons with you, returning the same fake laugh.

"oh hardly, at least you've stayed close with ron and hermione. i think this is the most i've spoken to someone outside of my job in years." you tell him, dropping your gaze to your feet at the realization.

harry just hums in response, his gaze on the floor as well.

you sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for a moment before harry starts cleaning up the kitchen around you.

"you know, if you don't mind me saying, i've really missed you over these last few years. i know it's not ideal to meet again this way, but…i'm glad it happened." harry tells you as he puts away the dishes.

you feel your heart flutter at his words, and have to hold back a smile from taking over your face. he looks at you with a shy expression before beginning to wipe down the table.

"well, thank you, harry. i've missed you as well, i suppose." you say with a smirk.

harry just rolls his eyes playfully before returning to the sink to continue doing dishes.

you head to the living room and decide to put on a movie seeing as you're still completely snowed in. you re-light the fireplace as well and close the curtains to settle into the couch for the afternoon.

harry eventually joins you, offering a soft blanket as he takes the other side of the couch. you're not paying much mind to the movie as you mostly think about everything harry's told you far. you're not sure what to think, but knowing ginny is out of the picture now makes you feel all those same feelings from your school days while stealing glances at harry.

after a while harry uses the bathroom, and returns with the bottle of wine from the welcome basket. "might as well, yeah?" he shrugs, offering you the bottle to open. you smile and take it from him, setting the bottle on the table as he grabs a few glasses from the kitchen. you struggle with the cork a bit before harry offers to do it for you, pulling out the cork in one swift motion. you try your best not to notice the prominent veins in his arms but fail to look away before he's pouring your glass for you.

your first glass is finished while silently watching the movie, trying to pay attention to the plot with a racing mind focused on harry only a few feet away from you. as he pours his second glass he fills yours as well, mockingly cheering to you before taking a swig.

"y'know, [y/n], i'm real sorry for the way things ended between us. and i'm not just saying that, i mean, i really am sorry." harry confesses before taking another sip of his wine.

your heart's already racing, finishing your glass just to get the courage to respond to him. "it's okay, harry. really. we were both not very good to each other near the end there." you recall, a blush blooming across your face.

harry smiles, finishing his glass as well and reaching for the bottle. "well, still, i shouldn't have acted that way." he says, taking a swig straight from the bottle before leaning back into the couch.

you smirk and set your glass down as well, reaching for the bottle yourself. harry hands it to you and watches you take a sip before lying back as well.

"i probably should've told you i liked you sooner anyway. don't really know what i was waiting for, i guess," you say before downing another drink. harry shakes his head, motioning for you to hand him the bottle. "probably waiting for me, yeah?" he asks as he grabs the neck of the bottle.

you smile a bit. "maybe," you say softly, leaning against the back of the couch. you feel the effects of the alcohol start to wash over you as your body loosens, the anxiety melting away with every sip.

harry just sighs again before drinking. he wipes his mouth with his hand before fixing his glasses. "well, i should've known. i mean, you weren't actually into that hufflepuff quidditch captain, were you? please tell me that was just a ploy to get my attention?" he asks with a chuckle, handing you the bottle back.

you laugh, taking the wine and drinking more of it. "he was nice," you feigned innocence, feeling the intoxication settle in. harry rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle again. "yeah, right. all he wanted was a shag and you know it." he says, his tone slightly bitter and words beginning to slur.

you smirk at him. "well, at least someone wanted to shag me." you tease harry, reaching for the bottle again before he can even take his turn to drink. harry pulls away and shakes his head, making you scoff. "yeah, okay, [y/n]. whatever you say." he concludes before taking the last sip of the wine.

you whine when he hands you the empty bottle, setting it down on the table in defeat. "what, were you jealous or something?" you asked harry without thinking, feeling your face and chest heating up.

harry takes a moment to respond, clearly at a loss for words. "uh, well, i was just looking out for you, like i always did." he stumbles, leaning into the back of the couch with you.

he doesn't sound convincing, but you just attribute it to the alcohol and move on.

"and what about you? you mean to tell me you actually liked that slytherin chatterbox without a brain to match?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "or was that just for me?" you ask with a laugh.

harry didn't respond, instead only returning his attention to the movie. "that's what i thought," you say triumphantly, turning to watch the movie as well.

after a moment, harry softly says, "everything was for you."

you turn to look at him, but he remains focused on the movie. "what?" you ask curiously.

harry finally turns to look at you. "everything, it was all for you, [y/n]. not just the girls, all of it. when there was nothing left to fight for, there was always you. even when you were gone." harry says in a somber voice, his eyes exploring yours.

you're not sure what to say, mostly because you're lost in the moment as your blushing cheeks only get worse the longer harry watches you.

"it was always you, [y/n]. why do you think ginny and i didn't last? because she knew." harry asks, leaning closer to you.

you back away slightly, your eyes diverting from harry's. "harry, please. this is just the alcohol talking."

harry shakes his head and gently places his hands on your cheeks, turning you to look at him again. "no, [y/n], it's not. can't you see? you were all i wanted. i was stupid, and i lost you forever. i've wanted to tell you this since the moment i saw you yesterday." he confesses, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone down to your jaw.

"so beautiful, just like i remember," harry says softly, leaning into you once more. this time you don't back away, your stomach full of knots at the feeling of being held in harry's hands so tenderly. his face is only inches from yours before asking, "please, can i kiss you?"

maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the crackling fireplace, or maybe it was the lingering feelings of love and adoration from your childhood crush years past, whatever it may be, something pushed you to kiss that boy before he could even realize what was going on.

sloppy, messy, eager making out from both sides as you desperately grab hold of each other for dear life just feels so right. it's not long before harry has you on your back, his body weighing on top of you as the smell of the wine comes off his breath.

"harry," you manage to say between his lingering kisses. "swear this isn't just the wine? if it is, i don't care, i just want you," you try to ask again breathlessly.

harry's hand tangles in your hair, holding your face to his as you let out an involuntary whine. "this is all i've wanted my whole life." he says simply, his lips softly finding yours once more to leave a passionate, loving kiss. when he pulls away, he looks down at you with lustful eyes. "is this what you want?" he asks.

you shake your head eagerly. "all i've wanted." you repeat after him. harry smiles before connecting his lips with yours once more.

after making out for a while longer with harry on top of you, he eventually lifts you up to carry you to the bedroom. you laugh and try to squirm out of his arms. "i can walk myself, y'know. i'm not that tipsy," you tell him.

harry just hums at you and throws you onto the messy sheets, quickly removing his shirt before returning on top of you. biting your lip, you reach for harry's shoulders and feel his skin raise with goosebumps immediately.

"you're so pretty," harry mumbles to himself before kissing you again. his tongue slips between your lips and you gasp at the sensation. he takes advantage and leans further into the kiss, his hand finding your hair once more to keep you in place.

you whine against his lips at the pain, but don't want him to be any gentler. all you've wanted for so long was to feel like harry wanted you, needed you, and you weren't about to have him hold back from showing you exactly what you've been wanting.

"so, so, so pretty," harry says between kisses along your jaw and neck down to your chest. you go to pull off your shirt as well, but harry stops you by holding your hands down. "and so eager, too," he teases you with a smirk.

your face goes red, squirming under his gaze. you try to wriggle from his grasp but it only tightens. "patience, pretty girl," he tells you.

after nodding in agreement, harry lets go of your hands and slowly raises your shirt until it's just below your chest. he leaves kisses along your stomach, causing your body to shudder in anticipation.

harry lifts your shirt over your boobs and admires you for just a moment before removing your shirt completely. his lips meet yours again with hunger, his hands gently massaging the soft skin of your tits.

you moan into the kiss, arching your back further into harry for more. he smirks at your eagerness again, but continues to kiss you messily.

once he starts pulling and tugging at your nipples, you become a mess in his hands. "harry," you moan between his lips. "please," you say desperately.

"please what, darling? y'know i've waited so long to have you beg for me, i'd like to hear the words come from your mouth." harry tells you, his voice dark.

"please, harry, please touch me," you whine, grinding your hips against his above you. harry groans and pushes your hips back down with his own. "fuck me," harry curses under his breath.

after a bit of a struggle, harry manages to get both his and your pants to the floor. his hands delicately trace the outline of your panties along your hips and thighs. you can feel your stomach erupt in butterflies watching harry admire your body.

"you don't know how much i've thought about you [y/n], i could hardly contain myself last night knowing you were in the next room over," harry explains and hooks his fingers under the material of your panties. you're breathing heavily, red in the face as harry continues.

"if you could see the thoughts i was having you'd think i'm still some horny teenager with a crush," he says with a chuckle.

you cover your face in embarrassment and giggle knowing you felt the same way the night before only a few feet away.

"i mean, can you blame me?" harry asks, slowly pulling down your panties to your knees. "such a pretty girl," he continues, taking the fabric off of your legs. "my pretty girl," he states, twirling your panties around his fingers for a moment before tossing them to the floor as well.

"i-i've thought about you, too," you stutter. harry smiles as he slowly spreads your legs apart, admiring you from his spot between them. "yeah?" he asks, running his fingers along the soft skin of your inner thighs. "why don't you tell me about it, love," harry offers as his fingers slowly get achingly closer to your dripping pussy.

your eyes dart back and forth from his lustful gaze to his veiny hands between your legs. the knots in your stomach only tighten as you become more desperate for his touch.

"i-i…i never stopped thinking about you," you gasp as his fingertips run along your wetness carefully. "well? go on, pretty girl," harry encourages you.

your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment before you can respond. "i…" you're interrupted by a soft moan as harry applies soft pressure to your clit. "i, um, always have dreams about you…being with you…" you manage to get out before another moan slips through your lips.

"last night, a-all i wanted was you next to me," you admit shyly, grinding your hips further into harry's touch. "you were so close, i never thought…" you trail off as harry slowly inserts his fingers inside of you, only barely pushing into you before removing them. you gasp, shuddering at the sensation, hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"thought what, hm?" harry asks you with an innocent expression. you narrow your eyes at him but his fingers curl inside you again, a bit further this time, causing your head and eyes to roll back as you adjust to the feeling. "fuck," you curse under your breath.

harry just hums at your response, admiring your body beneath him as you try to catch your breath again. he slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, getting deeper each time, groaning at the feeling of you throbbing around him.

"go ahead, love, finish your thought." he reminds you, his other hand pushing down on your hip to hold you in place as he continues working his fingers deeper into you.

you're a whining mess in his hands, practically melting into the bed as your composure falls apart. the sight of harry's arms working to pleasure you with his eyes focused on your shaking body only pushed you further into your trance.

"mm, fuck, i…i n-never thought, i'd…" you gasp as harry's fingers reach a sensitive spot, making your face twist in pleasure. "i'd get the chance to, mm," you try to continue but your voice gets caught again as harry takes advantage of your sensitivity.

"hm?" he asks simply, picking up the pace of his thrusting fingers.

you whine again, your hand shooting to your mouth to keep the sounds in. harry removes your hand before placing his on your stomach, pushing you further into the mattress.

"tell me," harry demands.

you can feel your orgasm approaching, your legs going numb as harry continues to quicken his pace. "i-i never thought i'd get the chance to be with you," you finally get out, your back arching off the bed.

all at once, harry's fingers pull out of you as he rips his boxers off quickly. you whine as your orgasm fades away, your hips bucking up in search of relief.

harry smirks at your reaction, aligning himself with you between your legs. "it's so cute how desperate you are," he tells you, making you hide your face once more.

he uncovers your face and gives you a soft kiss. "but it's nothing compared to how badly i've wanted you," harry says, pushing the tip of his erection against your aching pussy.

he sits up and guides his cock inside of you slowly, letting you adjust around him gradually. you gasp at the feeling, your head falling back into the bed.

"i've spent years thinking about you, [y/n], dreaming about you, fantasizing about you," harry says between deep moans the further he pushes himself into you. "i never stopped," he admits, leaning down to kiss you once more.

you're breathing heavily and letting your body relax as harry's entire length fills you up. he continues to slowly thrust in and out of you, carefully watching your expression to be sure you weren't in any pain.

"so beautiful," harry tells you between heavy breaths, his hand softly cupping your cheek. you look into his eyes, your face still twisted in pleasure. "so perfect," he sighs before leaning in to kiss you again.

your body relaxes more once harry kisses you, pulling him closer to you. "harry," you brokenly moan into the kiss, making him practically growl in response.

"there you go, love," harry encourages you, picking up his speed as his hips knock into yours. "so good for me," he says as he leans his forehead against yours.

your moans become more and more desperate the rougher harry becomes with you, his hands grabbing for your tits and groping them roughly. your eyes struggle to stay open watching harry, sweaty, groaning, his eyes dark with hunger as he desperately chases his high with you.

you reach for his chest, your hand resting against his rapid heartbeat. "feels so good harry," you whimper, bending your knees further into your torso to give him more access to your aching pussy.

harry's thumb finds your clit and begins circling it slowly, causing your legs to start shaking involuntarily. you can't help but let out a string of breathless fuck, fuck, fucks, feeling your orgasm returning.

"you're, harry, mmf," you try to tell him, but harry just smirks and kisses you to shut you up. "cum for me [y/n]," he says against your lips, thrusting harder into you.

your mind goes blank as you feel your body ride the waves of your high, letting sinful sounds fall from your lips as harry's head falls into your chest, his face dripping with sweat. harry's name becomes part of your moans, only encouraging him more as his thrusts don't slow.

"fuck, [y/n]," harry's voice falls apart, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. you're still shaking, your body unable to recover as harry chases his high. "you're gonna make me cum," he gasps.

you reach for harry's face and pull him in for another kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. he immediately melts into you, pulling his cock out and letting his cum fall onto the soft skin of your stomach. you moan with him as he comes down, his body collapsing to your side with his head in your neck.

a few moments of silence pass as you both catch your breath, your hand comfortingly rubbing harry's shoulder as he hums against your ear. you eventually giggle, causing harry to laugh as well. another moment later, he attempts to stand from the bed, your arms still lingering around him. "i'll be right back, love," he promises you.

he heads for the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, cleaning off your stomach softly with a slightly embarrassed expression. "sorry," he said shyly.

you chuckle at the difference in harry's attitude now. "don't be," you tell him.

you eventually stand as well, your balance a bit off as you adjust to the feeling. harry helps you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your shoulders supportively.

"here," harry hands you a towel as you turn on the shower. "i'll grab your pajamas as well, yeah?" he says before leaving the room. you smile after him, your heart racing at the gesture. just as you step into the water you see harry leave your pajama set on the bathroom counter, offering you a shy smile as he leaves once again.

after you're dressed, you head back to bed to see harry curled up in the sheets with a book in hand. you can't help but feel giddy at the sight of him, shirtless, the sunset shining through the windows on his skin as his eyes focus on the text.

you crawl into bed beside him, and he sets the book down to reach for you. "hey you," he says with a smile. you giggle and cuddle into his side, wrapping yourself around him. "hi," you say shyly.

harry chuckles, covering you with the comforter and pulling you close to him. "don't mind me sleeping here for the night, do you? the couch isn't nearly as comfortable," he teases. you laugh, setting your hand on harry's heartbeat again. "of course not," you tell him.

you and harry spend the evening talking, reminiscing, laughing, and kissing until you eventually fall asleep on his chest. harry just kissed your head and held you close as he fell asleep as well.

the next morning as you're getting ready for the wedding, harry finished packing up the cabin and came up behind you to hug you in the bathroom mirror. "you look stunning, darling," he told you, his eyes wandering in the mirror down your body adorned in a beautiful dress. you just smirk and lean into him, your heart still racing at his romantic gestures. you're not sure if you could ever get used to them now.

on the way to the wedding, harry's hand casually rests on your knee in the back of the cab. you can't help but admire harry in his suit, telling him he looks handsome as you pull up to the venue ready to watch ron and hermione get married.

at the reception, hermione runs up to you, tears in both of your eyes as you pull each other in for a hug. ron and harry also hug, giving each other a specific handshake as harry congratulates his best friend.

"congratulations, you guys. you look perfect, hermione," you say once she pulls away, taking a tissue to her eyes. you lean in to give ron a hug as well, and hermione gives harry a big hug beside you.

"well, i see you aren't too mad about our little plan," ron says to you, his arm wrapping around hermione comfortingly. you and harry look at each other and laugh knowingly. you shake your head at ron. "no, i guess we aren't."

hermione's smile only gets wider as she sees harry's hand link with yours discreetly. "i'm just so happy we can be together today," she says tearfully.

you pull her in for another hug, with ron and harry joining not long after, making you all giggle at the heartwarming moment.

742 notes · View notes

uceyliyahh · 1 month ago

Text

Summary: You are just a distraction to me nothing more.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

warning contains: attempted suicide, toxic

word count: 3,857

Jey Uso x Remiyah

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

this will be a four-to-five-part series hope y'all will like it trying something new. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @yana3sworld

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

DISTRACTION

Ø2

REMIYAH

It's been a couple of weeks since I last spoke to Jey. After going through his phone and seeing the messages exchanged with Jaida, I found it hard to shake off the thoughts. However, I realized that I need to redirect my focus towards my career and let go of something that was never meant to be.

He would often reach out, checking in to see if everything was alright or questioning why my texts had slowed down. I couldn't quite grasp why he was so concerned, especially since he was involved with someone else. I was seated in the catering area, enjoying my meal and scrolling through social media when I suddenly heard someone clear their throat. When I looked up, I was surprised to see it was Jimmy.

I offered him a subtle smile before saying, “Hey there, Big Jim! What’s going on?” as I set my phone down on the table.

Jimmy glanced over and asked, “Is this seat taken?” I quickly shook my head. “Nope, feel free to sit,” I replied. He settled in beside me, diving into his meal as I returned to my own tasks.

Jimmy truly felt like a big brother to me. He was always there to offer advice, even on matters I hadn’t considered before. I found myself unsure about whether to share my feelings regarding the situation between me and his brother.

While browsing my social media, I stumbled upon a story posted by Jey that piqued my curiosity. However, once I clicked on it, I immediately wished I hadn't. There he was, in his locker room, with Jaida—wasn't she supposed to be in NXT? A wave of emotion hit me, and I felt tears welling up as I set my phone aside, desperately trying to regain my composure. This didn’t go unnoticed by Jimmy, who quickly picked up on my distress.

"Are you alright, Miyah?" Jimmy inquired, noticing my gaze on him. I nodded in response, hoping to avoid drawing attention to the situation.

I stood up from my seat, my plate in hand, a weight settling in my chest as I realized that I should have stayed out of his affairs. It puzzled me why his story had such an impact on me, especially since I meant nothing to him. To him, I was merely a fleeting encounter, someone he could use and then move on from to pursue someone he truly desired.

I tossed my plate aside, barely registering Jimmy's calls. I needed solitude after that moment; I had never felt so utterly foolish for a man who clearly didn’t want me. As I made my way to the locker room, lost in my thoughts, I unexpectedly collided with someone.

As I glanced up, I realized it was Jaida, wearing that infuriating smirk that screamed ownership—he's mine, and he has no interest in you. I was left speechless, unsure of how to respond, until she finally broke the silence.

“You must be Remiyah right? The same person who thinks that she could be with my man? Tuh girl please,” Jaida spat as she brushed past me leaving me dumbfounded.

I reached my breaking point and chose to avoid returning to the locker room. Instead, I made my way to the garage where my car was parked, opting to stay there until it was time for my interviews.

I found myself in the car, tears streaming down my face, overwhelmed by a profound sense of loneliness. It felt utterly foolish to be in this position, unsure of how to navigate the situation. Running away wasn’t an option, but I certainly had the power to ignore him and keep my distance.

He might say what I want to hear if we ever discuss this, but ultimately, he'll just rush back to her, cozying up to her instead. I wish he would be that close to me, but I doubt I'll see that happen anytime soon.

As I wiped away my tears, a sudden knock on the window startled me. When I looked up, I saw Jimmy, his expression filled with concern. I let out a heavy sigh, contemplating whether I truly wanted to open up to him. After all, he would likely just defend his brother, as family tends to do.

As I unlocked the car, he slid into the passenger seat beside me, his worried expression immediately catching my attention. "I’m fine, Jim, I promise," I reassured him, crossing my arms to emphasize my sincerity.

"Miyah," he exclaimed, locking his gaze with mine. "I can see it in your eyes; something's bothering you. You wouldn't just walk away like that. What's happening?" I let out a heavy sigh, tilting my head back as I struggled to hold back the tears.

“Am I not good enough Jimmy?” I asked him which took him by surprise. “What do you mean? You’re good enough Miyah,”

"It seems that wasn't sufficient for your clueless brother," I mutter just loud enough for Jimmy to catch on. I hadn't gone into specifics about what was unfolding between me and his brother initially because it didn't seem important, but now it appears to have piqued his interest.

Jimmy let out a heavy sigh. "You both really need to have a conversation. Miyah, just express how you feel." But what good would that do? He’s with Jaida, and it would only lead to more embarrassment for me. What a brilliant idea…

Jimmy, there's really no reason to pursue that when he doesn't share the same feelings. I’d rather avoid the embarrassment that would come from it. I glanced at my phone and realized I needed to head back inside for the interview segment soon.

It’s possible that finding closure could help you both move on, but the real issue is that I struggle to distance myself from him. His sweet words and romantic gestures pull me in, only for me to feel foolish later. I sighed and turned to the mirror, determined to touch up my makeup and mask the tears I had just shed.

“That’s the issue Jim, I can’t leave him alone. He got me so fucking attached to him it’s killing me honestly makes me not want to show to work,” I vented to him.

As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden knock on the car window interrupted us. Both of us turned our heads, and to my dismay, there stood Jey—the last person I wanted to see.

As I rolled my eyes at him, Jimmy and I stepped out of the car together. I could see the frustration and confusion etched on his face, clearly questioning why Jimmy was with me. He glanced at his brother, silently indicating that he wanted to have a private conversation with me.

As Jimmy turned to leave, he wished me “good luck.” I responded with a slight smile as he disappeared back into the building. Now, it was just Jey and me, standing face to face in a heavy silence.

Before I could say something he cut me off, “the fuck is yo’ problem Miyah?” Here we go again with the blame game, which really gets under my skin. I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms defiantly.

“My fucking problem? My problem is you Jey that’s what the fuck is the problem,” I said.

He arched an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his chest in a mirror of my own stance. “Me? I’m the issue here?” Seriously, do I need to say it again? I’m not trying to sound like a stuck record.

I nudged him softly, making him lose his balance just a little.

“Yeah! Nigga you’re the fucking problem! Playing in my damn face like I’m so fucking doll!” I shouted at him feeling all of this pain and hurt inside of me.

Jey taught me a crucial lesson during our secret encounters: never raise your voice at him. Doing so doesn’t just provoke him; it fuels his desires. With his intense sex drive, he once gripped my throat, asserting dominance in a way that left me breathless. In that moment, I knew I was completely at his mercy.

“Lower your fucking tone when you speaking to me Remiyah,” he said in a raspy tone that sent waves down my spine.

“Fuck you Jey, I fucking hate you so much. treating me like shit….i fucking hate you…” I could feel myself crumbling in his presence, a sight he didn’t need to witness since he was indifferent to my struggles.

His expression clearly softened when he noticed the tears welling in my eyes, but that didn’t change the way he was treating me. If he truly didn’t want me, he could have simply walked away, and we could have avoided all of this heartache.

I tried to hold them together but my tears began to fall onto my cheeks, “I hate you, I fucking hate you!” I shouted pushing him and hitting his chest.

His grip on my throat tightened as he pinned me onto my car looking into my eyes deeply I could see the fire burning through his eyes. “Don’t fucking push it Miyah because you finna piss me off,” I scoffed at him was he fucking serious?

“What are we then Jey? Huh? I’m just some fuck buddy while you have yo’ bitch bullying me huh?” I forcefully pushed him away, spitting in the process as I yanked his hand from my throat. I was indifferent to whether I angered or frustrated him; I just had to express what was weighing on me.

“Remiyah I told you what it was when we start doing this and now yo’ ass caught feelings for me knowing I don’t want anything serious,” Jey said.

Damn that hurt like a bitch

Tears streamed down my face, smudging my makeup as I hastily wiped them away, shaking my head in frustration. "If I mean nothing to you, then let's just end this. I'm exhausted—mentally drained, to be honest. You and Jaida look so happy together, and maybe that's why you don't want anything serious with me. It's hard to ignore that," I said, my voice trembling as I noticed the shift in his expression.

I realized he was trying to control me into staying with him, but that was never going to work. I had reached my limit; I simply couldn’t endure this situation any longer.

He remained silent as I let out a frustrated sigh and walked by him. Suddenly, he seized me by the throat, pressing his lips against mine. I struggled to push him away, but his strength overpowered me. He intertwined his fingers with mine, intensifying the kiss that bound us together.

I would call myself a fool for falling for this.

His tongue danced within my mouth as he flung open the car door, pushing me into the back seat and slamming the door behind us. In an instant, his lips crashed against mine, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck.

This was the control he had over me.

“Take this fucking shit off,” His voice had a richer, deeper quality than usual that completely captivated me.

I was in a missionary position with my legs bend towards my sides while he was drilling my shit in while I was trying to escape from this but he wasn’t haven’t it today, I had my eyes rolling in the back of my head touching on his tatted chest something that turned me on.

Jey was pounding me into the damn seat all of this pumped up anger that he had build up all because of me but did I give me a damn? No I didn’t even care how angry he was right now after all of the shit he had put me through—throughout this whole entire thing between us.

I was done with this and I was done with him.

“I fucking hate you,” I spat at him as he chuckled at me.

“You don’t hate me baby, you love me that’s why you actin’ like this but it’s okay I’ll fix it all up,” Jey grunted as he wrapped his hand around my throat giving me his deep, mean, strokes causing me to moan loudly.

Every single thrust that he had given me had me seeing stars I didn’t know what to do with myself when it comes to him I didn’t like this toxic dynamic between us, I pushed him by his stomach trying to slow down his movements I couldn’t handle it.

He leaned closer whispering nothing my nasty shit in my ear I began wrapping my arms around his muscular body tugging on his mullet letting my heart getting in the way whispering in his ear back.

Jey pressed his lips against my neck, claiming me as if I were his Luna. The truth was, I wasn’t his; someone else held that title, and it shattered me even more. “Tell me you love me, I need to hear it,” he urged. But how could I confess my feelings to someone who didn’t truly care? It wouldn’t make a difference.

Again my heart got in the way.

“I love you Jey, only you.” I moaned throwing my head into the seat feeling his dick hitting my cervix.

“Oh, fuck. mama you feel so fucking good.” he cooed at me as he continued to circle his hips into my g-spot.

I could feel all of this pressure building up causing me to dig my nails inside of his back while he hissed at the pain but didn’t mind knowing that he’s fucking me good like no other.

I couldn't believe I had allowed him to treat me this way, but love has a way of clouding judgment. Despite my feelings of foolishness, I was deeply in love with him. As he pulled his lips away from my neck, I could see the satisfaction in his eyes, admiring the marks he had left behind.

My walls clenched up against him moaning his name was like music to his ears, apologizing to him like an idiot, telling him that he was the only man that can get me like this something that he wanted to hear from my lips.

Jey thrusted his dick in and out of me deeply had me rolling my eyes in the back of my skull at this fucking point I could see him stealing glances down there watching it going in and out.

“This my pussy right? You won’t act out like that anymore baby?” Jey purred at me as I nodded my head.

But that’s not answer that he wanted out of me thrusting deep making me gasp loudly, “yess! I won’t do that anymore daddy! fuck!” I cried out.

Jey had a smirk on his face, “good, baby. You know your pretty ass ain’t goin’ anywhere,” I had tears coming down my face feeling like I wasn’t gaining any control of this situation like I did earlier.

My mind couldn’t even comprehend anything anymore felt like I needed to be rebooted at the way he was fucking me, his dick was gliding through my g-spot like crazy I felt more and more pressure building up.

I clenched on his dick some more as he placed his lips on mine trying to make me forget about the pleasurable pain that I was having right now, I could feel a knot coming down inside of my stomach signaling that I was about to cum within seconds.

Did that matter to him?

I could see that the windows were fogging up along with the car shaking violently due to his mean strokes that he was giving me at the moment feeling sweat dripping down on his body.

He kept thrusting deeper and deeper inside of my wet cunt as my mouth parted into an “o” effect still tongue kissing each other in the process.

"I understand you, mama; my love for you is unwavering, and you alone hold my heart." Yet, his words felt hollow, mere echoes of what I longed to hear. The realization that he didn’t truly mean them deepened the ache in my heart, making it all the more painful to hear those sentiments from him.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I desperately wished to believe in his love for me. The painful truth is that he never truly cared, and that realization is devastating. “I love you too, daddy fuck. I’m finna cum,” I muttered between the kiss.

I find myself in a vulnerable position, admitting my feelings for a man who seems to only turn to me when things go awry with his other relationship. It pains me to realize that my heart longs for a deeper connection, one where I can be his sole focus and not just a fallback option.

Maybe the dick was too good making me feed into my delusions of being in a serious relationship with him, maybe the way he spoils me rotten had me thinking he’ll love me, I was blind as damn bird to believe any of that.

“Make a mess on me baby, daddy’s gotchu,” that’s all it took was those few words coming from his mouth as I let out a loud moan coating his dick up with my milky cream while my body began to tremble underneath him as he continued to fuck the brains out of me.

“There you go mama, such a good girl for me,” Jey praises me while placing a kiss on my temple.

All you could hear were skins slapping against each other while the air was thickening around us smell like sweat and sex, I couldn’t say anything else letting tears flow down my face while he hid his face in my neck cursing underneath his breath.

His movements were becoming sloppier and slower within every thrust he had given he wanted me to feel him—all of him as a matter fact reminding me that I wasn’t going anywhere knowing that his dick got me feeling this way.

I felt his dick twitching inside of me as the car shook deeply, my mind my foggy at some point during all of this I tried to fought my negative thoughts and feelings on this matter but I couldn’t.

“Oh, shit. I’m finna nut baby girl, let daddy nut all in his pussy,” I didn’t respond to him just let him do it like he always did.

I wrapped my legs around his waist as he drilled into my gushy insides to the max determine to get his nut just like how I did, “Fuckkk, mama fuck,”

Jey thrust into me one last time as his warm seeds began shooting out like a volcano eruption into my walls filling me up good, hearing him letting out a deep groan at the sensation I arched my back letting it sink in for the moment.

He thrust himself into slowly making sure none of it was coming out of me and laid onto my chest hearing breathing up and down.

Jey finally withdrew after what felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence, a soft whimper escaping my lips at the sudden void. Yet, I was too lost in the moment to care. I could barely move my legs as I watched him slip into his sweats and that playful crop-top tee, his gaze locking onto mine.

I sat up straight, trying to put on my underwear and skirt while also fixing my hair. The car was completely silent; none of us spoke a word. I could sense his gaze on me, but I chose not to meet his eyes.

I reached a moment where I just wanted it all to be over. I realized I held no significance in his life, so what was the purpose of continuing? It felt foolish to think about driving my car off the road and disappearing forever.

I decided to break the uncomfortable silence, saying, “Feel free to head back inside; I’m heading home for the day,” as I made my way to the driver’s seat.

“What bout yo’ interview segment?”

I scoffed why did he care so much about that?

"Please, Jey, just give me some space. I really need to be alone right now. I can't handle any more questions." I'm feeling overwhelmed and hurt, and I just don't know how to process it all. I need this time to myself.

Jey stormed out of my car, slamming the door behind him. I couldn't care less about his attitude; my frustration with him far outweighed any annoyance he felt toward me. I fired up the engine and pulled out of the garage, determined to leave the tension behind.

I was at a loss for where to turn. Returning to my hotel room was not an option; that was the very place he would track me down, attempting to persuade me to continue this friends with benefits arrangement. I simply couldn’t entertain that idea any longer.

I pressed down on the gas, tears streaming down my cheeks as they splattered against the steering wheel. I felt utterly foolish, believing that someone like him could ever love me. After all, Jaida was stunning—light-skinned and curvy, exactly the type he was drawn to.

In every relationship I've had, I always felt inadequate, as if I was never enough. Time and again, I found myself betrayed, with partners choosing others who seemed far superior to me. Now, here I was once more, caught in a familiar cycle. My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through me as I sped down the street, grappling with the weight of it all.

My sight blurred, and I lost track of my direction as I sped through red lights, narrowly avoiding collisions with other cars. In that moment, I felt indifferent to it all; I just wanted to escape this place.

Was this dumb to kill myself over a man?

Yes.

Did I care?

I had given up on the idea of finding a man who would truly love me for who I am, flaws and all. I longed for someone who would reassure me that I was enough just as I am. Instead, I found myself lost in thought, driving aimlessly until I crashed my car into a tree, leaving me breathless and defeated.

I could sense the world around me swirling as blood trickled down my face, realizing that I had likely broken my nose in the process.

Maybe a broken rib or two.

The final sound that reached my ears was the blaring of my car alarm, accompanied by the rush of people approaching to check on me. They were urging someone to call for an ambulance, a request I desperately wished to avoid. In that moment, all I wanted was to escape the pain, to be free from this life rather than to continue living.

Never feeling like I could be enough in this world.

Not even for a man like Jey Uso himself.

In that moment, darkness enveloped me, and silence reigned, as I clung to the hope that my wish would be granted. I yearned for the chance to find happiness once more, perhaps in a place beyond the clouds, where joy awaited me.

I hope you’re happy.

A/n: honestly feel bad for Remiyah she doesn’t deserve all of that, hopefully she’ll gets better in the end and Jey is probably going to hear about this.

But I hope yall enjoy this part lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

#jey uso #black oc #black writers #black fanfic writer #jey x oc black #wwelove #jey uso fanfiction #black reader #jey uso smut #wwe fanfiction #Spotify

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anyarose011 · 9 months ago

Text

December Never Felt So Wrong {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: You didn't want to go anymore; not after what just happened in your room with Angus. Still, you had to. In the end...well, happy birthday, Jesus; sorry your party was so lame.

Part 6 of 10 (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, in depth discussions of grief, mention of character death.

The song is for you theatre kids; yes, there is a Christmas album of the cast of Hadestown. While I love the original, the one with Reeve Carney and Eva Noblezada hits different. I think this was my favorite one to write so far; especially with the interactions with Mary and Elise. Also, lol, possible interpretation of reader's character having a thing for Elise? Again, it's all up to you, but just wanted to say that. Also, part 3 of not being able to escape being an awkward/moody teenager because it's a fanfiction. Anywho, hope you guys cry, but it'll be worth it :)

Word Count: 6.1k

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You dared not look at Angus the whole drive to Miss Crane’s house. Even when getting into the car, you avoided his gaze like Lot did Sodom and Gomorrah. There was no way, after he was more than likely going to kiss you (or you him), could you even acknowledge his existence.

But why did you stop yourself from kissing him?

No matter, as your father drove all of you to Miss Crane’s house, you managed to block out that question which clawed at your mind. The door was unlocked when you four arrived at seven, and you filtered in. The house was still heavily decorated in Christmas paraphernalia like you had seen it days ago when you were with Elise. Yet, with how many people were gathered on just the first floor alone, it almost felt as if you were entering a stranger’s house.

Well…not exactly.

Truth be told, this was neither you nor your father’s first Christmas party with Miss Crane. You went with your mother to only one before she passed, and even though Miss Crane would still hold out invitations for you and your father…neither of you ever went. Elise and her aunt would understand of course, especially in the first years after your mother passed; Christmas is always a complicated time after the death of a loved one.

“You made it!” Miss Crane’s voice of gratitude and her gently clutching your arm broke your thoughts. “Welcome. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!”

She had looked at Mary once you nodded with a smile, and Mary mirrored her. “We’re happy to be here. Where should I put these?”

Miss Crane lifted the cover of the brownies Mary was holding at and gasped before taking the tray. “Those I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, you’re a wicked woman!”

“You have no idea.”

“Certainly a lot of people here!”

Leave it to your father for that to be the first thing he says. Still, Miss Crane took it in stride.

“Yeah, yeah, some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

She spent her time pointing out all of her family members (some you remembered, most you had no idea who they were), and you were honestly blanking out. Up until you saw a familiar face.

“Elise!” You cheered as if she was your guardian angel. You hadn’t even noticed Angus wandered off to stare at a snow globe until you saw him visibly flinch upon your exclamation.

Your friend laughed as you embraced her. “Nice to see you too.”

“It’s been forever!”

“It’s been two days.”

The adults around you merely chuckled, and once again, it was Miss Crane who spoke up. “This is Angus Tully, he’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise.”

Neither of you had pulled away from each other during this whole introduction and were merely still wrapped in each other’s arms as if it were normal. Still, it did not escape you how, once Elise and Angus’ eyes met, it was as if you weren’t there.

“Niece Elise.” He nodded, smiling. “Nice.”

And it seemed like he felt the same. So, there you were, between them in a strange physical and emotional sense. Of course, you were selfish, so you couldn’t revel in the discomfort for long.

“You must forgive him.” You said to Elise but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s so simple minded, he finds rhymes to be most intriguing.”

She giggled, shaking her head, and Angus rolled his eyes. “Can you go one night without being mean to me?”

“Fitzwilliam,” you smiled, pulling away from Elise. “you’re asking me not to breathe.”

Your father intervened. “Alright you two; no need to fight when we’ve barely gotten through the door.”

Miss Crane tapped his shoulder, looking back at Elise. “This is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?”

“Ancient Civilizations.” He said.

It seemed like her words fell on deaf ears to you, Elise, and Angus. The way they were looking at each other…how Elise would glance at everyone only for her eyes to land back on Angus, and how it was the same for him too…

Neither of them ever looked at you though; only at each other.

Miss Crane called your name, and then Elise’s. “Why don’t you take Angus to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition? Do you remember?” She asked you.

You were honestly so discombobulated, you could only huff. “Good lord, it’s been years.”

“Oh hush, you remember.” Elise teased. “Come on.”

She led you and Angus down to the basement, and you both followed. It was almost frightening how much whiplash you’d gotten just from taking one step down the stairs and was immediately met with Holly Jolly Christmas and the smell of glue. Several kids, as young as five and as old as eleven, sat down at the tables you sat at only once, creating what they deemed to be works of art.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Angus chuckled.

It was normal for someone to laugh at it. Hell, you knew he was laughing with it, but this was the most he had been on your nerves all week (for many reasons you were too bothersome to list).

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties.” Elsie smiled, tilting her head to you. “She was only here once, but I still think the pieces we’ve made should be hung in the National Gallery, don’t you agree?” She said your name.

You put on a smile. “For sure.”

“I think it’s kind of cool.” She said. “There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

She could study Art History, perfect her French, move to Paris and work as a tour guide in the Louvre. That was a dream she told you she had ever since you were children; but yet there she was, throwing it all away to flirt with a boy she had just met.

One who wasn’t even attractive at that (not the first lie you told yourself that night).

“Picasso’s cool.” Angus immediately said. “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse?”

He attempted to pose like the painting you wish you could see, and it was so dreadful you didn’t know which one was worse; that or him and Elise’s incessant talking about the stupid painting at the stupid Museum of Modern Art in stupid New York City. So, to spare yourself, you immediately ducked into a small table of little girls; something you thought you would do only if you were held at knife point.

Still…they were actually sweet, surprisingly. You all would ramble about meaningless things, which perhaps made it all the more meaningful when you would laugh at the stories they told you; whether it was something tame that happened in kindergarten, or what a third grade girl said to you.

“Boys are stupid.”

You nodded. “That they are. Although, I’ve found that a few of them are nice.”

“I said they’re stupid, not mean.”

“Well, they can be. But again,” you reiterated. “they can be sweet.”

“Not like my daddy.” A six-year-old girl spoke up, drawing on her paper plate with a purple crayon shorter than your temper around some men. “Mama says she ‘put him in the doghouse’. Which is weird, we don’t even have a dog, why would we make a house for him?”

You fought every part of yourself to not laugh. So, you merely smiled politely. “That does seem rather unusual.”

“You talk funny.” One of the older girls said.

“So do you.” Was your reply.

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

You were about to continue the ridiculous chain until you heard Elise laugh. Your head immediately snapped to see how she and Angus were hunched over some paper with their hands completely covered in paint. It was like the aftermath of a car crash; you couldn’t look away no matter how much you knew deep down it would only hurt you to keep watching.

She had that look in her eyes you rarely ever had with boys, and although you were practically on the other side of the room from them, you could cut the tension with a knife if you had one; and proceed to stab yourself like Juliet.

Then, like you knew she would, Elise kissed him.

That’s what made you tear your gaze away, and you took your father’s advice from long ago: once you felt sick, you ran away.

Your chest was constricting by the time you got up the stairs, and you wanted to say it was because of going up them so quickly, but it wasn’t. Hell, it wasn’t fully because of seeing them kiss, it was a little, but there was something else; what, you had no idea.

This was all your own fault anyway; you told her from the start you didn’t like him (you didn’t, what’s made you change?) and that she’d probably like him (they’d be good for each other too; she’s sweet, he’s not, they’d balance each other out).

Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you decided that whatever was weighing on your shoulders, you weren’t going to let it ruin the rest of your night; Angus and Elise be damned. You decided to people watch to soothe our worries and create imaginary stories for each and every person that passed your way; a game you and your mother played whenever you went out.

There was an older man with his wife, both perhaps in their early nineties. They met in Boston by chance, he had grown up there, she was from Wyoming perhaps and wanted to experience a city to the east that wasn’t New York.

A woman just a little older than you sat by herself with a drink in her hand. She told herself and everyone else she’s content with just sitting against the wall, watching the room be full of life, and she genuinely meant it.

Your father…oh! He was talking with Miss Crane, and it seemed to be going well.

So, to give him privacy, you decided to further wander around the house. All seemed well as Christmas carols played throughout the halls, until you reached the kitchen.

There, hunched over in the corner with her shoes off, was Mary Lamb, trembling. You felt your soul leave your body, and your eyes met Danny (you hadn’t even known he was there until you saw him move towards you).

“I…” He began. “Do you want to try to talk to her?”

All you could do was nod, approaching her. “Mary?”

She shook her head, not saying a word. You stood beside her and saw as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Your breath shuttered with hers; you already knew. Even without her having to tell you, you already knew.

“Do…do you want me to get my dad?” You asked meekly.

Mary didn’t say anything. You just looked at Danny and nodded. Turning on your heel, your chest wasn’t constricting, but you felt like there was something rotten within your stomach. Something so rotten only a parasite would find it delicious and decide to eat every part of you.

Which is of course when you would quite literally bump into Angus Tully coming back up from the basement.

“Hey,” he greeted with the biggest smile on his face. “thought you got lost, where-?” Just as he saw your fallen face, his did as well. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears spring into your eyes. “Where’s my dad?”

“What happened?” He softened his voice and it only made you want to tear him apart.

Shaking your head, you asked again. “Where is he? I…”

He said your name, repeating his question. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you only said. “Mary…”

Angus nodded, not needing anything else. “I’ll go find him.”

You turned back to the kitchen, waiting with bated breath and arms crossed. Your father and Angus came in soon after, seeing Mary the exact same way you saw her over the kitchen counter.

“Mary?” Your father asked gently. “Mary, are you all right?”

“Just leave me alone.” She grumbled.

Danny placed a hand on her back. “Want me to take you home?”

“Back off!” She hissed, turning around. “Back off.”

Your father shut the door as she cried, and you felt shame that you couldn’t even pick your gaze up from the floor while it all happened.

“He’s gone.” She sobbed, and that was all it took for everyone to decide to go home.

Your throat was clogged with emotion the whole time, and you felt bad for asking to say goodbye to Elise as Mary clung to your father and Angus.

“Just make it quick.” Your dad said, and you didn’t even take time to nod, sprinting back to the basement.

It was as if nothing changed, and she smiled up at you once you came down the stairs.

“So?” Her face was all aglow as if you had something good to tell her.

“I…” you swallowed. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Mary uh, her son…well…” Why couldn’t you just say it?!

Elise nodded. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I’m just sorry we have to go; I was having fun.”

She tilted her head to the side, her gentle smile being a dead giveaway, she knew you were lying. But, to not bring that up, you tried another tactic.

“So…Angus.”

Elise shook her head, laughing. “He’s nice and smart too; I can see why you’re friends with him.”

You cringed. “I wouldn’t really say that.”

She said your name, a little more serious. “I know something’s bothering you. I don’t know if it’s with Mary or Angus, but please just tell me.”

It was a lot of things; not being able to go to Copenhagen, Teddy Kountze and Jason Smith being sorry excuses for men, the damn letters, Angus Tully telling your father about the damn letters, Angus Tully in general, the stupid Christmas party and…and…

“I’m…I’m glad you like him.”

No, it wasn’t that but that’s all your mouth could form.

She nodded. “I do, but now after meeting him in person,” she shrugged. “just a friend. Not even really, I barely know him. I don’t know why you’d think he’d be my type.”

“You kissed him.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean ‘yeah’?!” You cried. “Don’t lie to me and say you didn’t even have the tiniest crush on him.”

“Like how you’re lying to me right now?”

That was uncalled for (in your mind at the time, in actuality, yeah it was called for). “What?”

“I asked you what’s bothering you, but you’re not telling me.” She looked annoyed now, and that was worse than if she was fuming. “Look, unless you like killed someone, it can’t be that bad.”

Swallowing thickly, you took a few moments to try your best to recover yourself. Saying hesitantly. “I…I think I’m being stupid.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t want you to leave me for some dumb boy.”

She stared at you, and you were surprised how quickly she responded despite the astonished look on her face. “First of all, not going to happen-.”

“-You say that now.”

“Let me finish, please. Second of all, you’re not stupid because of that; not for anything, mind you.”

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and leaned against the wall of the basement, Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in your ears. “I don’t know why I’m making a big deal about it.”

“It’s normal.” She leaned with you. “Half of my friend group back home ditched me to spend more time with their boyfriends. What’s funny is that some of them have a new one every month.”

“It shouldn’t be normal.”

“It shouldn’t,” She shook her head. “and for the record, I meant it’s normal to freak out about it. I want you to know thought that I won’t do that, and you better not either.”

“Never.” You chuckled. “Besides, a boy has to like me first for that to happen.”

Elise grinned as if she was the Chesire Cat from Alice in Wonderland

“What?” You gave her a look.

“I think you should talk to him.”

You already knew who he was, but your heart still stopped. “I…I…him?! Which him?”

“Just talk to him.”

You stood absolutely still…What the flying fuck were you supposed to do with that information?! Before you could utter another word, Elise hugged you tightly. “Merry Christmas,” she said your name so sweetly before pulling away but still holding you at arm’s length. “if you need anything, just come over; I’ll be here until after News Years.”

All you could do was nod, wishing her a ‘Merry Christmas’ and then having her walk with you up the stairs and out the door. Everyone was waiting for you in the car, and you somberly entered the other side in the back.

“Are you okay, baby?” Mary, to your surprise, was the one to ask.

“Uh huh.” Was your immediate response, nodding.

The rest of the car ride back to Barton was silent, and it began to snow.

It was the second time (two too many) you lied to Mary that winter break; you weren’t fine. You laid awake deep into the night despite the fact you couldn’t hear your father snoring anymore. You not being able to sleep only caused you more stress, which caused you not to sleep.

After tossing and turning for perhaps almost an hour, one thought made you sit up in bed.

You forgot to lay out Christmas cookies and milk.

You also forgot to make the Christmas cookies.

So, not having anything else better to do, you slipped on your shoes, stole your father’s flashlight, and snuck down into the kitchen.

You only needed the flashlight in the darkened halls, because to your surprise, the kitchen was completely illuminated. If that wasn’t enough, you saw Mary sitting at the main counter, smoking a cigarette. You stopped in the doorway, almost hiding behind the corner like you were a little girl again when you first met her.

She glanced at you, not that surprised. “What’re you doing up?”

You pursed your lips. “I wanna make Christmas cookies.”

It was stupid. Even if Santa existed, he wouldn’t bother with a stupid school, so why keep putting out cookies and milk only for you or your father to always be the one eating them and making a joke out of it Christmas morning?

Because why not?

“Okay if I help?” She asked.

A hint of a smile spread upon your lips. “If you don’t mind.”

You and Mary could tie your own aprons, but whenever you cooked together, you liked tying each other’s. You didn’t argue as she told you what ingredients to grab, and soon, after mixing together the wet and dry ingredients, then rolling the dough out, you were placing down several upon several different cookie cutters.

It all seemed well, working with only limited amount of talking but still smiling, and then, the thought that loomed in the back of your mind came forward.

“You alright?” You looked up at her and nodded without saying anything. She sighed, saying your name. “I know you’re not; and I know you weren’t after talking to miss Elise. Now, what is it?”

“Tell her.” your thoughts urged over and over again.

“I…” You sucked in a breath. “Can I ask you something? And you can tell me to fuck off if it’s-.”

“-Hey,” she interrupted. “baby Jesus is being born in half an hour, don’t use that kind of language; but yes, what is it?”

You surprised yourself by laughing briefly, then asking. “What was he like? Like…before I met him?”

Mary looked up, and for a moment you thought she was going to break down again, but she shook her head, returning back to cutting the cookies and placing them on the baking sheet. “Not much different from when you were nine and he was ten.”

“He always teased me for being two years older than me until he realized my birthday was before his,” you smiled. “then he wasn’t so old for a while.”

She nodded. “I think that was the only thing he was competitive at.”

“What was the first thing he wanted to be when he grew up?”

“Fireman.” She answered without having to think.

You grinned. “And what’d you think of that?”

“I knew he’d grow out of it.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What was little Mary like?”

She huffed, a jesting smile on her face and that was enough for you. “Young, in love, could be freer than a bird one moment, and then quiet with her nose in her Bible the next.”

“How’d you meet Curtis’ dad?”

“School,” she peeled the last residue cookie dough off the cookies. “we were in choir together.”

“Wait a minute,” You giggled, picking up one of the sheets of cookies. “you never said you were in choir!”

She took the other one, and you both walked to the preheated oven, and she opened it. “I thought that was obvious when I took you and Curtis to church?”

“We were too busy plugging our little ears.”

“Hey!” She scolded after sliding in her sheet.

“Because of Old Lady Washington!”

“I understand if her singing was like a dying cat, but she was a good woman, God rest her soul. So, you say a prayer for her right now, you nasty, rotten creature.”

Sighing heavily, you take one hand off the tray you were holding to make the sign of the cross, and mouth a prayer.

“That’s better.” Mary nodded. “You want me to put the cookies in for you?”

“I’m a big girl.” You stated proudly, but as you bent down to slide the baking sheet into the oven, you hesitated, feeling the heat already burn your fingers.

You gave it to Mary yet felt no shame doing so.

“You wanna frost them?” She asked, and you both sat down at the table, waiting for them to bake.

“No.” You shook your head. “Too tired.”

“Thank you.” Mary said. “It’s…it’s good to talk about Curtis. I think I miss you both being little the most; don’t tell your dad I said that.”

Chuckling, a memory came to mind; one you thought you would take to your grave but…perhaps it was a good time to share it.

“You know…” you trailed off, a hint of sudden uneasy but joy lacing your insides. “Shit, I’ve never told anyone this before. But…he and I were each other’s first kiss.”

“Oh, I’ve known that.” Mary answered nonchalantly. “It was the first thing he told me when he got home that night.”

“Are you kidding me?!” You laughed.

“Hey,” She said playfully. “keep it down; the men need their beauty sleep.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help your giggling. “I mean, fuck, it meant nothing; we weren’t even teenagers, we just watched it in movies, saw my mom and dad do it like once, so of course we were curious. No, no, you wanna know the best part?” Sudden laughter filled your lungs, and you could barely make a coherent sentence. “I-I had a crush on him from thirteen to fifteen, and he had a crush on me when he was ten until he was, God I don’t actually remember. He enlists months ago, not even a full year, and before he goes that’s when he tells me had liked when we were kids. It-It meant nothing, he just wanted to let me know and-!”

Mary’s hand on yours never grounded you faster. Your whole world stopped, and when you looked at her, seeing her eyes that were both concerned, but not at all shocked, your heart did as well. You dropped your head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Never be.” She squeezed your hand.

“I…” you suddenly lost your voice for a second. “I think I…I think I miss him.”

What a stupid way to say it. Of course you did, you had been ever since your father woke you up in the early morning to let you know. Still…what you knew the whole night, what the most bothersome thing that had been festering within you was:

“He’s really gone.”

“Me too.” She said softly, pulling you into a hug.

You couldn’t cry. You wanted to, God, you wanted to. You teared up this time around, but somehow, despite realizing everything all at once…no cathartic outburst, no weeping and screaming without a care in the world…

Just you and Mary Lamb, holding each other for only God knows how long.

“Oh,” Mary’s voice took you out of the peacefulness, and turned to see what she was looking at. “another one.”

There, in a white shirt and plaid pajama pants, was Angus Tully; hiding behind the corner just as you did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make your way through the school without bumping into anything.” Mary stole the comment you would’ve made if you weren’t frozen already.

Angus leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and smiling. “I’m surprised neither of you heard it. What’re you doing up so late?”

He was looking at you when he asked, and you wanted to take the butter knife off the counter and gouge out his eyes to get him to stop.

Instead, all you said was. “Christmas cookies.”

“Nice.” He nodded, and the kitchen was left in a silence colder than the air outside.

Mary looked in between the both of you, before pursing her lips and untying her apron. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“But-.” You began.

“-Angus, you’ll help take the cookies out of the oven, won’t you?” She asked him. “Little Jane Bennett’s always been scared of getting burnt.”

“Mary.” You warned, both about exposing your irrational fear, and also leaving you alone.

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear, and you wanted to throw him out an open window. “For sure.”

“Alright,” she sighed in relief, then walking past him to her room. “Merry Christmas you two, and don’t stay up too late.”

“No promises.” Angus joked, turning his head. When he looked back at you, you stood a little taller as if trying to compete with his height. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I actually wanted to tell you-

“-Would you like some hot chocolate?” You sputtered out.

He blinked, taking in your question. “Yeah…yeah that sounds great. I don’t know where they keep the packets-.”

“-No, I’ll make you what my mom made me.”

…Was this your way of telling him you liked him? It could be worse; you could’ve said: ‘You’re so pretty, I want to throw a rock at you.’

Still, he smiled. “Alright then, what do we need?”

Technically, high quality chocolate, but you were at Barton; which would spend its funds on fancy buildings and overpriced textbooks, but not chocolate, which was complete bullshit.

So, the two of you stood over the stove, milk in a saucepan, a small tub of vanilla, salt, half a bag of M&Ms (courtesy of Angus Tully’s payment for waking you up the week before), whipped cream, and a full jar of milk chocolate chips.

“Why are we putting salt into hot chocolate?” He asked as you stirred the milk.

“It enhances the taste, besides, it’s just a pinch. Okay, pour in the chocolate.”

“All of it?”

“No, just…you know, my mom eyeballed it, so just don’t do all of it.”

He nodded, and you moved aside as he poured in half of the jar. You stirred it in as it quickly melted, then poured what you guessed to be a tablespoon of vanilla in. Your stirring was hypnotizing, so of course you zoned out, and didn’t even realize it until Angus brushed your bare arm.

You jumped, gaze immediately snapping to him. “What?”

He gave you a look; not one of annoyance like you expected. Well, there was a hint of that, but you quickly found out it was to mask concern. “I asked you what you thought of the party before Mary.”

“Oh…” you blinked. “Yeah, it was nice.”

Angus nodded. “You ran off at one point, what happened?”

“Bathroom; girl stuff.” You hoped that was enough to throw him off your trail, which it was.

He visibly tensed. “Oh…”

“Yeah.” you dropped your gaze back to the hot chocolate.

The only sound was the whisk hitting the saucepan as you stirred, then pulled it out to let it sit.

“So uh, is that why you’ve been acting weird this whole day?”

You slammed the whisk on the counter. “How fucking dare you!”

He flinched. “What?!”

“Is pissing blood the only good reason why I’d be like this?”

“Well, if I was, I’d be a bit impatient too.”

“You-,” you laughed, exasperated. “you’re a piece of shit.”

He clenched his jaw. “So then why are you upset?”

Avoiding his gaze, you mustered up the only other truth you could tell him. “I can’t find one of my books.”

Angus scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” You gritted your teeth. “My dad read it to me all the time as a kid, and I couldn’t find it when packing last week, so I’ve just been-.”

“-Bullshit, it can’t be that good of a book.”

“Fuck you, it’s The Little Prince!”

“Look,” He hardened his tone. “I’m not buying it. And if it’s not you being a girl that apparently makes you hate me so much today, or really any day of the week, than what is it?”

The egg timer went off with a loud ringing. You quickly shut it off, having to stop yourself from slamming it back on the counter. You took the oven mitts and opened the oven, reaching in for one of the baking sheets.

After placing down that one, you turned to get the other only to see that Angus, with a washcloth in his hand, held the other. He placed the sheet down by yours.

Throwing the oven mitts off, you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. Once you found an ounce of calmness, you said. “I know you told my dad.”

You didn’t even say what he told him, he already knew. His face fell, and it was the first time you wished it didn’t. You wished he denied it, got angry at you, hell, blame you for it somehow like so many other boys could have.

But he didn’t…he was ashamed.

Angus tucked his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “I…I was worried about you.”

Your heart stammered. “Why?”

“It…” he was confused. “What do you mean ‘why’? Some guy who your family isn’t friends with anymore was telling you to take pictures of yourself-.”

“-That’s none of your business.”

“It was for a while; not now, but that’s why I told your dad.”

You swallowed thickly, the emotion of the party, missing Curtis, and now threatening to fully break you. You shook your head. “I’m not angry at you; I’m…sorry I treated you weirdly, but…I don’t know.”

He took a deep breath. “I get it.”

You were both left in silence once again. You took a spoon out of one of the drawers, preparing yourself to taste test it. Then, to fill the empty air, you asked the only thing on your mind.

“So…Elise.”

He looked at you, then down at the counter. “What about her?”

“She’s sweet.”

“Yeah…yeah, she’s nice.”

“So,” you dragged out the ‘O’, almost having fun with teasing him about a girl as if you didn’t know how he felt about you. “do you like her?”

He furrowed his brow. “What, like, like like her?”

Giggling, you said. “Well yeah, you immature asshole.”

“I’m not immature.” He fired back, trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“And for the record, no, I don’t like her like that.”

You nodded. “Not even when she kissed you?”

His lips thinned into a line, and you never saw a man look more uncomfortable from your own doing (besides when you alluded to him not being able to pleasure a woman only yesterday when he dislocated his arm). “Yeah, even when she kissed me.”

You smiled even though you felt strange. You took the spoon and dipped it into the hot chocolate. “Was that your first?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with you.” You teased, bringing the spoon up to your lips. “You closed your eyes, and when you opened them, you realized a pretty girl kissed you.”

“What if I wished it was you?”

You brought the spoon away from your lips instantly; both from how hot it was, and from what he had just admitted.

Immediately, he realized what he said, and stumbled over his words. “I-I uh, shit I didn’t-.”

“-Hot.” You interrupted, your mouth burning. “Yeah, yeah, it’s hot.”

“Oh.” He jumped back. “Uh, do you need water or-?”

“-No, no, I’m fine.” An idea (a horrid and dreadful one) came to mind when you turned off the stove and took the sauce pan off the burner. “Um…do you want to taste it?”

Angus nodded, wanting to do anything but acknowledge what just happened. “Yeah, yeah sure.”

He turned to grab a spare spoon off the counter behind him, but you took his face into your hands and brought your lips to his.

There was a delay in his reaction, but soon, his arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you in impossibly closer. Even if it technically wasn’t either of your first kiss, you acted as if it was; well…perhaps it actually was, at least a real one. It was sloppy, there wasn’t a rhythm (you didn’t even know you needed one to properly kiss apparently), and you were torn between keeping your hands on his face or trailing them through his hair.

Which is why you pulled away as soon as you felt it started. Angus, still with his eyes closed, leaned back into you at the loss, but soon snapped out of it once you backed away, catching your breath.

“Are…” he was catching his too. “are you okay?”

“What?” You asked, almost out of it. “Yeah just, needed to breathe.”

“Yeah-yeah, me too.”

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the most uncomfortable you’ve felt the whole night…but then, after you both could breathe normally, and looked at each other, you started laughing.

“How-how was it?” He asked in between snickers.

Your face hurt from smiling. “My lips are burning.”

“Really?”

“I mean, from the hot chocolate but-.”

“-You’re mean.” He shoved you playfully.

You scoffed. “And you’re just a baby. So, how’d it taste?”

His teasing halted. “…What?”

“The hot chocolate.” You asked innocently. “Did it taste good?”

Still being thrown through a loop, he took a longer time to respond before quite literally shaking himself out of it. “Uh, yeah-yeah. I uh-don’t add anything, it’s good.”

“Nice. Hand me some mugs, top shelf to the right.”

He followed without complaint, and you served up the hot chocolate, then drowning both of them in whipped cream before crushing up the M&Ms and sprinkling them on top.

The cookies were cooled by then, so you shared them as well while drinking your hot chocolate. Just as you spoke with the little girls at your table, you spoke about things that, to anyone else, would be meaningless; stories from childhood, school, books, the list went on. Still, for the first time in many days…it felt like there was no tension of any kind between you.

When all was said and done, you cleaned your dishes, then set out cookies and milk.

“For Santa?” He asked.

“Who else?” You questioned.

And this was when you knew Angus Tully was a good person. Despite the opening for overbearing teasing, and how you wouldn’t have minded it at all, he didn’t do anything of the sort. He simply smiled.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to the infirmary, taking extra care to be quiet. When you were in the doorway of your room, you turned to Angus.

“Merry Christmas.” You grinned, feeling your heart do somersaults the way he looked at you.

“Merry Christmas.” He said back, smiling as he cupped your face and kissed your cheek so tenderly.

Your face could’ve lit up the room once he pulled away you were smiling so much. You both uttered another ‘goodnight’ to each other and made your way to your beds.

You didn’t sleep much that night, but instead of it being from grief, it was from excitement. Excitement of finally letting something good happen to you.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #paul hunham #mary lamb #Youtube

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

Note

Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉

Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol

Thank you☺️

Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!

Enjoy <3

Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)

18+ Minors DNI

Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.

Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.

Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.

"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.

"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.

Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx

You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.

It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.

"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."

You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?

You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.

"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.

"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.

"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.

Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.

"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.

"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.

Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.

"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.

Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.

"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.

You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.

"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.

You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.

"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.

Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.

"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.

"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.

"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."

You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.

You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."

"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.

"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.

"Bye, Cillian..."

Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.

Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.

"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.

You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.

"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"

"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.

"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."

The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?

You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.

"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.

"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"

"I...."

"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.

"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.

"Y/N..."

"Cillian..." You repeated.

His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.

"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"

"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.

"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.

"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."

"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."

"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.

"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"

"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"

"How long... have you... you known...?"

"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."

You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."

"What gave you the courage?"

"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."

"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."

Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.

"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.

You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.

He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.

"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.

"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.

"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.

His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.

"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.

You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."

"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.

"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"

"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."

"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.

"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."

The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."

"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.

He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.

"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.

"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."

"I feel the same way."

You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.

hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3

also sorry if there are any major mistakes!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction

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wishuroses · 2 years ago

Text

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 𓇼 oh say it ditto, aonung.

✶ pairings: aonung x sully!reader

✶ warnings: fluff, fighting, reader is awkward, flirty and touchy aonung, spicy tension if u squint hard enough maybe idk fuck around and find out, reader the ultimate brozoner, reader and lo’ak evil twin agenda, not proofread whatsoever, uppercase intended!

✶ word count: 2k

✶ na’vi glossary: kenten – fan lizard, paskalin – honey, skxawng – idiot.

✶ a/n: me vs stealing kpop song lyrics to use as titles LOL i literally had to rewind some scenes like a thousand times to get everything down right hehe.. happy reading! >:-)

After nearly weeks of traveling on your ikrans, your family had finally arrived in Awa’atlu, desperately seeking Uturu to get away from war. You were standing beside your brother, Neteyam, your lanky arms hanging awkwardly in front of you, tense hands clasped together in a poor attempt to ground yourself.

You felt even more awkward when an–admittedly attractive– boy and his friend entered the crowd. Once the two of you made eye contact–his being a thousand times more intense than yours, burning into you like a hundred suns– you immediately brought your hand to your forehead, a sign of respect.

Instead of him doing the same like you thought he would, he flared his nostrils and looked you up and down with a narrowed glare. His stare made a feeling flutter deep in your stomach, like someone alerted a field of colorful kenten.

Oh. He was sizing you up.

With an inaudible inhale, you shuffled closer to Neteyam, his heavy arm immediately coming to wrap around your tense shoulders, thumbing at scarred skin, effectively grounding you. Your big amber eyes never broke away from Aonung’s baby blue ones, furrowing your eyebrows and flicking your ears upward in embarrassment from being blatantly ignored. He would definitely be a problem later.

It was when your dad whispered an “it’s alright, be cool” that you finally broke his gaze, opting to look at the ground beneath you. Your thick braids curtained the sides of your face, beads clicking together harmoniously–the feeling of being watched intensely from a crowd of na’vi made you feel nauseous, dizzy, and even more alienated; your nose twitching as the the saltiness of the air nearly intoxicates you.

The sand felt weird, foreign, incredibly unfamiliar to the dark soil you already missed digging your feet into. The waves crashing against the shore, however, sounded lovely. The wind blows, it passes over, beneath, and between the mangroves, one after another, never to return. Though, it wasn’t enough to fill the void. You hoped that after all this blew over, you and your family would be able to go back home–but the gnawing voice at the back of your head knew that would never happen.

“These children are not even true Na’vi.”

You harshly blinked away the tears that threatened to spill when you felt the Tsahìk rip one of your clasped hands away, only to hold your four-fingered hand up for the scrutinizing crowd to see. Her voice boomed with authority.

“They have demon blood!”

The only thing you could hear were ringing in your ears, your own pulsing heartbeat, and the scared gasps of the na’vi surrounding you.

Welp. This is your life now. Your home.

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

“Hey!” Lo’ak yelled, striding up to Aonung and his crew with you following closely behind, “Back off, fishlips.” Kiri took a few small steps back, looking between the both of you in a slight panic; you nodded towards her and she nodded back with a small, yet obviously forced smile on her face, the look in her eyes gave you just enough to know she was fine.

Aonung’s face quickly morphed into a smirk, his tone criminally sardonic. By Eywa, this boy is evil. “Oooh, more four-fingered freaks!” He cackled wickedly, lightly shoving Lo’ak–almost playful– like he wasn’t tormenting Kiri a few moments ago. Him and his gang started to crowd around your twin, pulling and touching the thin tail that flicked with annoyance.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri chorused, the plea sitting desperately on her tongue.

With an exaggerated sigh, you ran up beside Lo’ak and shoved Aonung with as much strength as your lithe body could muster at the moment, running off of pure adrenaline. The push wasn’t that strong, but strong enough that it made Aonung take a few steps back, admittedly flustering him a little. “Dude, don’t touch him!” You emphasized, your frantic, honeyed eyes as wide as can be, staring back into his.

Time seemed to stop for Aonung as he took in your appearance like he did the first time you two saw each other, yet you were even beautiful up close. His eyes looked between your left eye, your right, and then to your lips. Before his own mind could even register, he wrapped his big hand around your wrist, indulging in how it nearly engulfed your entire hand. Once his thumb caressed your skin, you felt your heart jump.

“Beautiful..” Aonung whispered– his voice low and deep– so that just the two of you would be able to hear it. His tongue swiped at his bottom lip, effectively distracting you from what was really important at the moment.

It seems that he was too caught up in taking you in, narrowly missing the way Neteyam was currently striding up to him with vigor, shoving him with way more force than you ever had, resulting in everyone going quiet and shifting their attention towards him.

“You heard what they said.” Neteyam started, pointing an accusing finger at Aonung. “Leave them alone.”

“Back off, now.”

Aonung raised his hands up in mock surrender, looking off to the side as Neteyam continued to stare holes into his head.

“Smart choice. And from now on I need you to respect my sisters.”

“Let’s go.” Neteyam gathered you, Kiri, and Lo’ak like sheep, ready to walk away and get whatever the hell was happening over with.

“Look at them. They’re all freaks, the whole family.”

Lo’ak sighs deeply at this and makes his way back over to Aonung and his friends.

Watching him with wide eyes, your heart panged as you figured out what would happen as soon as he steps into their vicinity again. “Lo’ak..” You chided, hurriedly looking back towards your twin and the snickering guys behind him.

“I got this, sis.”

Lo’ak, in fact, did not have it. A huge fight broke out between everyone, excluding Kiri of course. What kind of twin would you be if you didn’t jump in?

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

You all were definitely about to get the lecturing of a lifetime–or, you and Lo’ak, at least. Lo’ak had his hand wrapped around his arm, Neteyam rubbing at his bloodied nose, while you had your arms crossed, nails digging into your elbows. All with Jake trailing behind, practically seething with anger.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?”

“Stay out of trouble–” You and Lo’ak chorused, Neteyam looking off to the side.

“Stay out of trouble, right.”

“And you,” Jake started incredulously, turning his stern gaze towards you. He knew you and Lo’ak were alike, down to a T, so maybe he really shouldn’t be surprised, yet he still couldn’t help but feel a semblance of disappointment pang in his chest as he watched the pinkish hue of Aonung’s blood stain the tips of your teeth and the cracks of your bruised lips. “You bit Aonung!”

“I did not–” “Yes, you did! Oh, so now you’re starting to lie to me?” Immediately, your ears cast downward, the loudness of his voice making tears brim your eyes and your bottom lip tremble. He was right, you actually did lie, the taste of iron fresh on your tongue to further prove his point. But how you hated when your father spoke to you like this–the weight of shame and disappointment dripping down your shoulders like hot syrup.

You felt Lo’ak and Neteyam’s stare burn into the side of your head like hot coals, their hearts heavy as they both watched their little sister get scolded for something she didn’t start.

Neteyam pursed his lips before stepping in front of you and Lo’ak, ready to defend. “Sir, it is all my fault–”

“I don’t think so. You gotta stop taking the heat for these two knuckleheads.” Your shoulders were pinched as a tear ran down the slope of your rounded cheek, hand coming up to quickly swipe it away. Neteyam stepped over to place a hand on your back.

“Dad, Aonung was picking on Kiri.. called her a freak.” Lo’ak said softly, as to not make your father raise his voice any more than he already was. Jake’s stern gaze softened at this, looking off to the side. He sighed audibly before looking back to the both of you.

“Go apologize to Aonung.”

“What?” You and Lo’ak said in unison, both of your eyebrows furrowing.

“He is the chief’s son, do you understand? I don’t care how you do it, just make peace. Just go.”

And with that, Lo’ak sighed and shook his head, stray braids swinging with the movement, walking off to go find Aonung with you scurrying behind like a lost, pitiful puppy. You didn’t dare look back when Jake called for Neteyam, only focusing on controlling your own harsh breathing. This had to have been the worst day of your life.

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

“Run that by me again.”

“..Whatever that means.”

“Repeat what you said.”

“I said, if you allow me to court your sister, you will be pardoned.”

“Dude, I am not prostituting my sister. Are you nuts or something?”

“Not prostituting, I just happen to like her.”

Well, you thought, so much for trying to apologize.

You were currently hiding behind a nearby tree, ears alert as you listened in on their conversation. Lo’ak told you to stay put, that he’d go apologize to the dude himself since you didn’t have anything to do with it; technically you did bite him, and his friend.. and two more of his friends. But that was because you had teeth, so why not use them for what they’re made for?

By the time Aonung blinked, you were already at your twin’s side, amber eyes glancing into amber eyes before peeking into his blue ones. “I am very sorry, Aonung, but I don’t think Kiri is interested in you. Like, at all.” You said with a tilt of your head, beads thudding almost mockingly.

After an awkward beat of silence, Aonung cleared his throat. “No, I’m not talking about Kiri..? I’m talking about you, (Y/N).”

Lo’ak gawked at him as if he had grown fifteen heads, eyebrows raised incredulously. “Bro–” “I accept your offer.” Now Lo’ak was staring at you as if you were crazier for even accepting, mouth open cartoonishly wide. Aonung, however, looked extremely pleased at your response, glancing at Lo’ak in a way that screamed ‘she said it, not me’.

“Whatever. Let me know if you need me to beat him up, okay? And you, bring my baby sister back before eclipse.” Lo’ak huffed before turning to set off along the shore, shaking his head in the procress.

“Not a baby, Lo’ak, we were born five minutes apart!” You complained in English, making Aonung’s ears perk up at the foreign language that spilled from your mouth.

Lo’ak turned to you, flipping you off with both hands raised in the air–even with his thumbs out. Disrespectful. “Girl, bye!”

You watched your brother walk further and further, his silhouette getting smaller and smaller. Blinking, you turned to Aonung, only to find out he’s already staring you down intensely. Acknowledging him with a nod of your head, you felt your cheeks flush at his attention, a fluttering feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

Aonung crowded you, tucking his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him. “Just so you know, I would have courted you even without your brother’s permission, sweet girl.” His eyes were even prettier up close, a striking narrowed blue boring into your honey ones. You felt your heart violently palpate at the name, and with a nervous exhale, you shied away from his hand.

“Come.” You quipped sweetly, skipping ahead with Aonung following close behind, his eyes trailing down your form, stopping at the pretty woven bow that sat right at the base of your tail. His gaze snapped back to your face when he saw you face him in his peripheral, heart thudding against his ribcage. “Do you call everyone ‘sweet girl’?”

“No, only you. You are very pretty, by the way.”

“Thanks bro.” He internally cringed at the choice of label, it was a habit, obviously, but Aonung didn’t seem to mind it very much; he knew it would change over the course of time. “You think the same about Lo’ak?”

“By Eywa, no, he doesn’t look half as good as you, paskalin.”

“He is my twin, skxawng. We look the same.”

Aonung went silent for a few moments, scanning your features before responding. “.. Not necessarily. The shape of the hair over your eyes are both the same, though. I will give you that much.”

Your laugh fluctuated throughout the air, singing harmoniously with the crashing waves. You desperately trying to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was lit up in flames when he placed his hand on the small of your waist, thumbing at the skin, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat threatening to jump out of your chest.

Looking up at him, you noticed the small multitude of bite marks along his shoulders and arms, your ears lowering in guilt when the phantom taste of iron filled your mouth, remembering what your dad told you.

“Also–uhm– sorry for biting you.. so many times.”

“It’s okay, I liked it, sorry for calling you a freak.”

“No hard feelings. I’ve said worse about you with Lo’ak.” Aonung decided he would ignore that last part, while you decided to ignore the first part of his statement, feeling your face flush for the thousandth time today.

“I really did like it, by the way, you biting me. Do it again next time.”

“.. Jesus christ.”

“Who?”

You didn’t really like it here at first, but since the Olo’eyktan’s son currently had his hand digging into the skin of your waist with full intent on courting you, you guess you could make it work.

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creedslove · 2 years ago

Text

BETRAYED - PART FIVE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, fluff, glimpse of Pedro being a great (silly) dad, and more angst of course

A/N: I really don't know what you guys will think of this part. It is longer than the others and for those who don't want Pedro to be forgiven, you can consider this the ideal end, though this is NOT the last chapter. I still have some ideas for this story but their development will go according to what you guys want, especially because due to all the feedback I've received over the last week (yes today marks one week I posted the first chapter) things are pretty divided between who wants a happy ending and who wants a sad one, lol!

A/N Part 2: I still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.2k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Your heart clenched the moment you heard Kate's words. Pedro was there. After months pretending not to know each other, after not seeing him nor listening to his voice, months after the horrible argument you two had, where you both said horrible things to each other, words that hurt you two deeply, but also needed to be said. So you two could break free from what was holding you back. You and your mindless passion for Pedro, and him and his incapability of letting you go.

You realized you went silent for several seconds and Kate was staring at you with a worried look on her face, so you gave her a nervous smile and nodded "there's no problem, really. We are not making a scene or anything, I mean, we didn't have that much of a fight, it wasn't that serious"

"Yes, it was, Y/N" Kate said in a low voice "you completely fell out with each other, you have never been apart from long and honestly, he seems the saddest I've ever seen, and you don't seem like you're in a picnic either" she placed her hand on your shoulder reassuringly and looked down, excusing herself as she needed to attend the other guests.

You didn't like to be read like that, yes, you missed Pedro, in many ways you were still broken hearted at everything that went on, it's very hard to just let go of a person you were so invested in for years. It leaves an empty spot in your chest, even when you get over whatever happened, your mind always comes back to a bunch of might-have-beens. And though you and Pedro hadn't been away for that long, that's exactly how it felt. You walked out the kitchen and realized you were getting anxious to see him. He was there, it was a stated fact. It wasn't like when you went to the gym and very often looked over your shoulders, in hopes he wouldn't show up at the same time you kind of hoped he would show up. Internally battling with the relief of not running into him and also the disappointment of not seeing him. Once again, you had to remind yourself to act rationally, you didn't want to be shaken to the core when you saw him, and you definitely wouldn't make a scene at a princess' party.

When you reached the living room, he was the first one you spotted and for a few seconds he was the only thing you could see. There he was, Pedro, your dulce Pedrito like you used to call him and make a soft reddish color spread through his cheeks. He looked the same as always, the same as always made your heart race and you hated that. Your heart beat faster, your palms suddenly got a little sweaty and you were sure you'd stutter if someone asked you any question. You cursed yourself under your breath, months of self care and you still acted like a high school girl around him. The sadness Kate had seen your ass, you mentally rolled your eyes as you saw how he was still the life of the party, how he laughed and made everybody laugh. He wasn't sad, and why should he? Maybe you did hurt him in your argument, in fact you did hurt him as he left with tears in his eyes, but he probably got over you, he had done it so many times before, times where you still were friends and you loved and cared for him, so now what was stopping him from just forgetting about you?

Pedro finally eyed you, he knew you were coming and he tried his best to look good for you, he had a nice outfit on, his hair was messy like you always said you loved and God, he felt like time had stopped when he saw you walk into the living room. Hermosa, princesa, linda, mariposa, all of that crossed his mind once he saw you. He hadn't seen you in what it felt like forever, and now you were there, standing a few feet away from him. His desire was to rush to you, ignoring everyone else there, and wrapping his arms around your waist. If he could, he would let out all those Spanish words you loved roll out of his tongue before he could touch your skin and make you his. He chuckled to himself just to picture what you would say if you knew his heart raced when he saw you, how he wanted to take you into his arms like you had dreamed about it for so long. Life sometimes is truly a joke.

He didn't understand how you managed to become more beautiful since the last time you saw each other but you did it, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. He had no idea if you'd even want to talk to him, give him some of your time, but he was going to try.

Before you could greet everyone who was sitting closer than him, Flora and her big brother came running to you. If someone thought Flora was sweet, they hadn't met her brother yet. Wyatt was a five year old who seemed to be obsessed with you. Out of all his mommy's friends you were definitely his favorite. He was sweet to you like he was with no one else, and the fact he still had some trouble pronouncing his 'R' made him even cuter to you.

He immediately jumped onto your lap, snuggling you as tight as he could, he was overly excited at the sweets he'd eaten and the fact some people who brought his little sister presents also brought him presents!

Pedro's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he saw you surrounded by Flora and Wyatt. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to watch that, but he couldn't look away either. It all brought him back to the dreams he constantly had about you, the dreams where he always got to a happy, crowded home, where you were his and only his, in all the ways you dreamed of for long and now he longed for it as well and you two had built a beautiful family. He was always happy in these dreams, only to feel empty when he woke up.

One of the things he always loved about you and that one he made pretty clear throughout your entire friendship, was how good with kids you were. Of course Pedro had earned the cool uncle status, but he just admired how natural you were, how kids simply wanted you to be around them and how happy you got with that. It quickly drove him back to the night of your argument, and how you threw it on his face he was nearly 50 without a family. Yes, he knew you were right, but it still hurt him anyway. When he was younger, he wasn't sure if he was going for the traditional stuff but he assumed good old marriage and kids would happen to him, after all it happened to everyone. But as the years went by, he just focused on his career and he was pretty happy that way, apart from all the loneliness he felt, loneliness that was soothed by your company during the day and some other female company at night, sometimes even more than one at the same time. Until those stupid dreams began, every single night he would have a family with you and love every single part of it just to be taken back to reality where he was alone and all he got was his career.

"Did you really think I'd forget about you?" You whispered to Wyatt as you very discreetly handed him a small basket with his favorite chocolate. You didn't have enough for all the kids, so you hoped he wouldn't make a big fuss about it, but the moment he squealed in happiness and hugged you, you felt so lucky to be there. You quickly helped him open his present and watched as he ate one piece after the other. Kate would probably kill you the next day, but you didn't care at all, seeing his true happiness.

"Pedwo, come play please!!" He asked the man, waving his hand at him and inviting him to the empty seat next to you. You saw when he smiled at Wyatt and moved closer to you. His cologne was intoxicating and for a moment all you wanted to do was to rest your head on his shoulder and have his arm around your body.

"These are my favorite too, you gotta share" he frowned playfully at Wyatt and looked at you

"Hey Y/N" he said shyly and looked down clearing his throat before looking into her eyes again "you look very beautiful, muy hermosa como siempre" he said and saw the familiar blush spreading through your cheeks adding a cute look to your face. You still reacted the same, maybe you were still his muñequita?

"Hi Pedro" you said softly and smiled politely at him.

"Come on Pedwo do the voice!!! Do it again, fow Y/N to see!!" Wyatt begged excitedly and pointed at his brand new Grogu doll. Once again you felt the urge to roll your eyes mentally, of course that was Pedro's doing and it was so predictable. Cute, but predictable. The little boy however, was mesmerized as once more Pedro sat up and made his Mandalorian voice. You didn't know exactly how it was different from his regular voice, but it was and you couldn't explain. He said whatever Wyatt liked to hear and gently tapped the doll's head, making Grogu cooed and blink his eyes, lifting his little arm gently which caused Wyatt to squeal in happiness again.

You both felt pretty good at that, no matter what happened between you two, you were really good at handling kids together and your chest ached to wonder if the same would apply if you ever had children together.

•••

After singing Happy Birthday and serving the cake, Rob, Kate's husband, asked his kids to go to the backyard. Pedro grinned at the interaction and placed his plate down, taking your hand in his and pulling you "come on Y/N, you'll want to see this" he said happily and you had no other reaction than follow him. The kids were so excited when their daddy asked them to close their little eyes. They peeked all the time, not being able to hold back how eager they wanted to see the surprise. Pedro looked at you and smiled sweetly "I don't mean to brag, but it was my idea, so you're not the only one who is great with kids, you know" he winked at her.

You swallowed and looked down at your hands, fingers entwined and how softly Pedro caressed your hand with his thumb. You immediately let go of his hand and blushed, which wasn't unnoticed by him, who sighed and stared into your eyes "I know you're still hurt about everything that went on and we need to talk, I owe you an apology for what happened and-"

Pedro was cut off by the kids' screams of happiness and pure excitement when their daddy revealed their mysterious present: a bunny. A real life bunny, you stared into Pedro eyes and chuckled "that was your idea, right?" You asked and couldn't help but smile a little "I bet Kate is thrilled" you both burst out laughing and for a moment everything was alright between the two of you again.

He only laughed softly but gently took your hand in his once more, walking towards some trees, away from the fuss the kids were making and once you were both hidden enough from anyone else who might bother you, he finally gathered the courage to speak.

"I screw everything up with you, Y/N. I know I did, in fact I knew it from the moment it happened but I was too proud and stubborn to admit it" he sighed "and then it all got worse and worse until that horrible episode at your place. I deeply regret everything that went on" Pedro looked down, and then back at you again, being puzzled by how indecipherable your expression was. You watched him apologize without really apologizing, you just hated how he asked for your forgiveness without acknowledging anything at all.

"The reason why I didn't want to talk to you anymore was because I'm tired of being your doormat, Pedro. You know how much I love you" you bit your lips "how much I loved you" you corrected yourself and continued "but you only took advantage of it, and you know it. You know how many times you've hurt me, how many times you flirted with me, you kissed me almost on the lips, you sweet talked to me, the times you had your hands on my body not in an erotic way but definitely more intimate than a friend should ever do, you know how confused it left me, and you kept doing it"

Pedro knew it was all true, but he had decided to ask for your forgiveness and to be honest, he looked around embarrassed and nodded

"I-I know that, Y/N. I know I was a real shitty friend, always teasing you, playing with your feelings… I am really ashamed of it and if I could turn back in time, I'd never act that way. I had only one glimpse of what you must've felt all this time… when I saw you with that guy from the gym and it felt like my heart had shattered into a million pieces"

You had to admit you were not expecting that, at first you thought it would be just some more of his usual bullshit, but it seemed Pedro really meant what he was telling you.

"And I know the last straw was that night at the gala. It should've been about us, after all, you were my plus one because I wanted to have you there, and I loved every minute we spent together, you looked gorgeous, muy hermosa mi cariño, but then I was just terrible to you. I don't know why I left with that woman, I mean, I don't know why I just gave in to that impulse and I know I tried brushing off as if you were exaggerating but these past months I was finally able to be true to myself and admit you were right. I was a dick, I not only humiliated you and broke your heart but also put you at risk by letting you go home on your way"

His voice had a sad tone and he didn't look away for a split second, showing he meant all that.

You began tearing up, as those were the words you waited months to hear. You wanted him to apologize, to admit what he'd done and now it had finally happened, you couldn't help but feel sad as it came too late.

"Pedro, I-"

"Please, Y/N, let me finish" he asked and took another breath "that day at your house was completely unacceptable, I know it, and we both hurt each other, I snapped because I saw you with another man and told you to leave me alone, and I didn't understand why I had such a childish and reckless attitude, until I realized I didn't know how to act on my feelings for you, which takes me to the very painful words you told me, which unfortunately, were also true. I left that night hating myself, I didn't know what to do or what to say, so I looked for help, I went back to therapy and I was able to see all the things I was doing wrong"

You saw when he took a step closer and you could smell his cologne, you had no idea what he was going to do, but your heart pounded into your chest as his big hands cupped your cheeks so gently, stroking them and staring into your eyes "and after all that self-analysis I came to the conclusion that I love you" he bit his lips and a light blush spread through your cheeks "I mean, I already did, as a friend, even if I was a dick, I truly loved and cared about you, but it changed, Y/N, it got more intense, you're the only thing that crosses my mind the whole day, the only one I want and crave, all I can think of is your body against mine, your beautiful voice singing while you make breakfast, the way you light up a room when you step inside, how the kids love you because they see how incredible you are" Pedro took another deep breath "I'm in love with you, Y/N" he finally admitted out loud and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He leaned in and touched your lips with his very softly at first, ghosting over them, appreciating how perfect they felt against each other. One of his hands went for your waist, wrapping his arm around it and gripping your body in a desperate need. He was so close you could feel his strong chest against your soft breasts, so pressed up against his body it was really hard to remind yourself that wasn't right. The moment you felt the man deepening the kiss, you couldn't hold back a soft moan. You decided to enjoy that moment, something you'd craved for so long, it almost felt like your heart was bursting out of your chest. Your hands gripped his hair, pulling it softly as you kissed him back as eager as he kissed you. You felt like you could be trapped in that moment forever with him, it felt right, even if it was wrong.

When Pedro broke the kiss looking for some air, you still gave him a last peck on the lips, gently stroking his cheek and taking a step back.

"Wow" you whispered and smiled shyly "I've dreamed about that moment for so long. God knows how much I daydreamed that one day this exact scene would happen, now it did, it feels unreal" you looked at him and took his hand, gently squeezing it "and that's why it breaks my heart to see it happened too late. I'm sorry Pedro, but we can't do this. I'm really sorry that I don't believe you, I don't think you love me, I think you love the fact I was in love with you and that stroke your ego like nothing else, I was young, devoted, I would do anything for you and would take anything you had to offer, but we can't do this anymore. I can't do this to myself, I love myself more than I love you now, and I won't let anyone get in the way of that, not even you" she said and let go of his hand "I'll always love you and cherish you Pedro, but it's time to say goodbye"

_____

A/N: any feedbacks, let me know! Also, you guys have just met Wyatt! He is pretty much my OC and for the years I wrote for/roleplayed Victor Creed/Liev Schreiber he was always my character's son, and I developed an emotional connection with him even if he is not real, so I thought to myself, why not show the world what a ray of sunshine my fictional son is, right?

And yes, the bunny thing I got from Narcos because I thought Pablo Escobar had no right to be that cute while gifting his daughter a bunny, the way she got happy when he gave her su conejito just made me go all aww 🥰

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #male actors #hot actors #betrayed #betrayed series

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argisthebulwark · 9 months ago

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Did I Find You, Or You Find Me?

summary: Due to forces outside of your control, you've found yourself stuck in an arranged marriage. f!reader, no y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn warnings: they're long lol. alcohol consumption, not super healthy relationship dynamics, a bit suggestive a/n: i meant to put some more fellas in here but tumblr was struggling to load this draft so i'll have to do a part two masterlist

Brynjolf

Born as the middle daughter of the Black Briar family you are fully aware of their interactions with the Thieves Guild. You've watched your mother meet with Brynjolf, catching glimpses when you're instructed to carry in stacks of paperwork or clearing away empty wine bottles after a long negotiation. His flirtatious remarks remarks leave you breathless, never going further than a shared smile or brushing shoulders in the hall.

As a middle child, you've often found yourself in an odd position - you're an adult and are expected to handle many responsibilities, yet still infantilized by your siblings. Often forgotten between Sibbi and Ingun's rebellions and Hemming's single minded dedication to the family, you're expected to pick up the pieces without making a fuss.

"We need to solidify our ties with the Thieves Guild." Mother's sharp voice interrupts your dinner. You nod along, picking at your potatoes and planning out the rest of your week. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty four."

"Oh, good!" The excited tone of her voice rouses suspicion. You peek up at your mother, heart ramming against your ribs - she's never taken an interest in your life before. This can lead nowhere good.

You can only hope that silence will make her forget you. Her schedule is usually so full that you're allowed to exist out of her eyeline - taking a few extra moments in the market to flip through some books or visiting Ingun in the alchemy shop to chat. There is joy to be found in those small moments when you escape from her calculated gaze.

Of course this doesn't happen. Before the week is out you find yourself standing in the Temple of Mara, heart in your throat and siblings snickering from the pews. The handsome thief is gentle when he holds your hands, voice a bit shaky as he reiterates every vow back to the priest.

Returning to the Ratways feels odd. You part from your family, ink drying on the many contracts as Brynjolf - your husband - leads you through the Cistern. You feel a bit like you're floating as the events of the day settle on your mind. Panic chokes out all rational thought - who will ensure that the animals are fed and organize the contracts in your absence?

"I'm sorry - this all happened so fast, you may need to show me around once more when my mind stops spinning." You can't recall half of what he's pointed out and your feet are aching. You gulp, staring up at Brynjolf's kind eyes.

"Don't worry, lass." That soft grin makes your heart race when he shows you the private quarters, a small room branching off from the tavern. "We're in the same boat, you've got me."

With each day that passes, that knot in your chest lessens. The anxiety shrinks as you settle into your new life, finding the lack of routine comfortable - no list of chores awaits you, no one calls for you to sit in on meetings. After twenty four years of responsibility it is terrifying to realize that no one expects anyone from you.

Despite all the initial fears you find yourself flourishing. Far from your mother's prying eyes you discover that you enjoy hearing stories from the other thieves, Vex and Delvin teaching you a few tricks and Tonilia offering to scrounge up a set of armor. No longer are you Maven's daughter or Hemming's sister - you are yourself.

Brynjolf maintains a respectable distance, never straying too far but making no moves toward romance. He acknowledges that your partnership is just that - an agreement set forth by others, it is not a true marriage. He joins you for dinner each night, finding himself eager to hear about what you've done that day.

"What did you mean back then?" You finally ask, surprised at how steady your voice has become. Brynjolf's gaze still makes your heart flutter but you no longer feel the need to shrink away from it.

"By what, lass?"

"When you said we're in the same boat."

"Ah." He leans closer, voice conspiratorially low. Your cheeks flush when his fingers dance over yours, barely a touch. "Well, I'm guessin' you weren't exactly excited by the prospect of marrying a stranger, yeah?"

"It wasn't my first choice."

"Wasn't part of my plan, either." You hate how your stomach drops at the admission. Of course you're aware that he hadn't truly wanted you, but that knowledge does little to soothe the sting.

"Delvin's too old and Vex hates dealin' with your mother." His eyes drop to where your fingers have twisted together, the toes of his boots brushing yours. "I didn't plan on it bein' me but I couldn't stomach the thought of anyone else marryin' you."

The weeks blend into months, changes in your life slow but steady. Brynjolf sets aside time each week to teach you how to wield a dagger. Your beds scoot closer and you stay up later talking, candles burning down to nubs while you share every little shred of yourselves. He tells you of this the people he's lost and you share the desperation you've always felt for more, blushing when he jokes about the fulfilling life of a thief.

Your confidence continues to blossom the longer you're away from your family, brave enough to disregard a direct summons from your mother. Somewhere she is steaming, Hemming probably cursing your name at her side. It's freeing to realize how little you care.

"Proud of you, lass." Brynjolf grins when you bounce up to him, excitedly recounting how cool it felt throwing her letter in the fire. His hand is warm when it cups your cheek. "How should we celebrate?"

A bit drunk on your newly found courage, you kiss him. You've thought about it for months, stomach fluttering when you first noticed the way his eyes linger on you. It's quick and your lips tingle a bit when your husband chuckles, already leaning in for another.

Miraak

"All of our efforts to reign in Miraak have failed." Arngeir's eyes pin you in place. Your ass is going numb from those stone seats but there's no escaping this conversation. "Dragonborn, the Jarls continue to call for action."

"I have tried everything to defeat Miraak."

"Yet we remain unsuccessful." Biting your tongue barely contains the multitude of protests. Your body bears scars from the many times you've faced Miraak and his cultists, brain addled by the ages you'd spent combing through Apocrypha's twisting hallways.

"Miraak has a clear interest in you." Borri chimes in, voice hoarse from lack of use.

"He speaks the truth, Dragonborn." Arngeir concurs. "We have formulated a new plan. The Jarls have approved, as have many leaders from Solstheim."

"Wonderful." You grumble, hauling yourself to your feet. Might as well start preparing. "What is this new plan of attack?"

"You will offer yourself to Miraak."

"Your plan is to sacrifice me?" The shrill tone of your voice echoes off the stone walls. "How will my death resolve anything?"

"Not as a sacrifice. As a bride."

Despite your many protests, it seems that Miraak could not pass up an opportunity to get under your skin. He agrees to the proposition - you become his partner and he scales back the attacks on civilians. The rage becomes almost mind numbing. You cannot believe that this plan is being enacted, that your elders are offering you up for the mere promise of peace.

When Arngeir bustles you out the door he instructs you to slay the First Dragonborn. His voice is stern when he informs you that you will not be welcomed back to Skyrim's shores until Miraak is dead. The old men don't listen to a single protest that passes your lips, somberly shaking their heads and claiming that this is the last resort. Their trust is placed in you.

There is no ceremony, no hint of romance - just your stack of books and a bout of seasickness as you're ferried to Solstheim. Cultists meet you at the dock, Raven Rock entirely silent as too many pairs of eyes watch them escort you to Miraak's palace. You walk with your chin held high and pray that no one notices the fear simmering just under your skin.

Miraak's glare tracks each move you make as you prowl through his manor. You keep your distance, intent on finding some hidden weakness that will break him without rousing too much suspicion. You circle one another, neither willing to break the peace and strike first. Even when you are alone he maintains some sort of mask - always obscuring at least half of his face, never giving you a full view.

Meals are silent except for thinly veiled threats. Doors to both bed chambers are locked and barred each night. You find comfort in his library, sprawling shelves holding volumes thought long lost and safe from the mind bending power of Apocrypha. On days when you grow too exhausted to search you tuck yourself away into a secluded corner of the library and read until your eyes can't focus.

"You do not have to hide." Miraak's deep voice shocks you out of your reading. He eyes the stack of books at your side and you feel terribly vulnerable. "This is now your home as much as it is mine."

Clearly displeased with your lack of response, he huffs and walks away. Your brain struggles to catch up - the usual nasty tone of his voice was gone, something almost kind about the way he'd spoken to you. It's disconcerting.

Thankfully, you are too preoccupied with your assignment to notice how deeply he burns for you. You do not see the heat behind his glare or the tension in his body when you drift too near, barely keeping a leash on the gut wrenching desire.

Miraak finds it quite easy to convince himself that he detests you - the flipping of his gut is mere disgust and your permanent place in his dreams is blamed on that damned prophecy. You are too distracted sniffing around for clues to notice how deeply and shamefully he wants you.

"What is it you seek?" His voice nearly stops your heart. Blade aimed for his chest you whirl around, scolding yourself for lowering your guard enough for him to get so close. You pause, gaping at the face he's hidden behind masks for months and fight back the horrible wave of attraction.

The crooked nose, stubble trailing up his jaw, dark eyes glaring down at you. Grey streaks are visible where his hair's pushed away from his forehead. A scar drags through his lower lip, drawing far too much of your attention. Grinding your teeth against the way your cheeks blush, you summon every ounce of vitriol you can.

"None of your business."

"Incorrect. You are in my study."

"What I am searching for does not regard you."

"Doubtful, little dragon." You curse your heart for flipping at that pet name. Miraak's grin is nearly a snarl when he leans closer, unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

For one night, he will release his self control. He will make himself vulnerable if it means he can get a bit closer to you.

Vilkas

As the eldest daughter of a Jarl, your duties never cease. Keeping an eye on your siblings, watching the advisors in preparation for your role, learning from wizards and teachers and warriors alike - it is endless. From a young age you'd intended on caring for your beloved city of Whiterun whether you acted as Jarl or advisor, content with putting in the work for your future.

"We need a foot in the door with the Companions." Proventus' words had roused no suspicion at the time - he'd said similar things about the guild before. "They are unregulated, acting entirely separate from us."

"This is true." Your father had turned to you, heart in your throat at the prospect of proving yourself. You'd fine tuned your political knowledge over the past few years and finally, an opportunity to prove yourself to his court. "Can you be trusted with this task?"

You had no clue what you were agreeing to. You'd anticipated a cordial relationship, that you would be acting as a emissary. You expected to form a diplomatic relationship with the Companions. You'd met a few warriors for training but the prospect of working with them was intriguing, their reputation was equally vicious and respectable.

You try to keep it together for the first meeting. Kodlak Whitemane is intimidating but you stand tall beside your father, chin held high and sword strapped to your side. It has never tasted blood but the advisors had insisted upon you looking your best, presenting yourself as a capable fighter.

Kodlak's warriors appear cleaned up, though you notice the scars - tattoos swirl between the gaps in their armor and wary eyes watching every shadow. The one at his side looks ready to implode; hand wrapped menacingly around the hilt of his sword and dark eyes sweeping over you with barely contained disdain. He sneers, clearly seeing through your carefully placed facade. Your stomach drops when he stands only a few paces from you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

The meeting moves too fast to follow. Kodlak and your father speak in hushed tones, all the other advisors cloistered around them. Notably, you are left out - they must be bartering on your behalf, right? Why else would you be left out of the conversation? Three Companions stand at your side, each appearing equally annoyed.

"May I ask why your folks seem displeased?" You whisper to the man at your side, the one who appears less standoffish than the others. Soft brown eyes blink back at you, a short laugh badly disguised as a cough.

"Surprised you're takin' this so well. We had bets on you running out."

"What?"

"Aela thought you'd last through the discussions. I thought you'd bolt as soon as you saw him. And Vilkas, well he refused to make a bet." The man laughs again, a hand extended toward you. Your head is spinning when the dark haired man walks off in a huff, his anger radiating through the hall.

"Vilkas?"

"Yeah." You follow where he points out the man now shouldering his way into the circle of advisors. "Your new husband."

Despite his initial vitriol, Vilkas is annoyingly formal. He speaks to you as a member of the court - stiff and respectful. He spends little time in your company, taking every assignment offered by his elders to get him out of the city.

You can't say it isn't hurtful. Your union was one of mutual convenience for your families but to see your husband so clearly uninterested wounds you. Your conversations are brief, each focused entirely on whatever business Kodlak has with your father.

You hold your chin high, remaining in your father's home and listening to the advisors fret. Your visits to Jorrvaskr are not unpleasant but there is a notable lack of progress - Aela and Farkas are friendly, Athis slowly warms to you, but it is abundantly clear that they all view you as an outsider. Vilkas can barely remain in the hall, his brother kindly making excuses on his behalf.

Sleeping in your childhood bedroom as a married adult feels strange, though you console yourself with the knowledge that it is not a real marriage. No rings or tender words had been exchanged. It was merely a contract signed by Kodlak and your father on your behalf. You drift off to sleep with the image of Vilkas in your head, wracking your brain for what can be done to smooth things out.

"Hey."

Scrambling for the knife under your pillow, you barely manage to swallow the scream building in your throat. With the blade quivering in your hand you aim it toward your attacker's chest. Vilkas' dark eyes glare down at you, hair mussed and usual armor missing. You blink a few times when turns toward the door.

"Can't sleep. You coming?"

"Coming where?"

"Anywhere but here."

He hardly says a word when you stride out of Dragonsreach. He scoffs at the way you sneak past the guards, dagger still gripped in your hand. You follow him down the chilly steps until you're seated on a bench, backs to the Gildergreen.

"Sorry." He grumbles, dropping his cloak around your shoulders. "Bet you're freezing."

You're too stunned to question it. The cloak smells of him and you find yourself burrowing deeper into it, the first kind move he's made. Vilkas sits at your side, glaring out at the starry sky for what feels like hours.

"What is happening?" You finally ask, glancing over at him. You catch his striking profile, outlined by the silvery moonlight of late night; the sharp bridge of his nose and harsh brows, the lips that look surprisingly soft when they aren't grimacing. Your stomach flips when his eyes slide to you, though they appear uncharacteristically kind.

"Needed to get out for a bit." He shrugs, heaving a sigh. "Figured you could use a break from that place."

It's hard to predict when he will seek you out. Vilkas only appears in the dead of night, often the night before he departs for an assignment. You wander through Whiterun, enjoying the emptiness of the town while he tells you of his recent missions. You are giddy each time he refuses your attempts to return his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders to walk aimlessly at his side.

Not wanting the conversations to be one sided, you soon find yourself sharing more. Stories of court and your siblings feel boring in comparison but Vilkas seems interested. He remembers names remarkably well, asking after your brother's injured arm weeks after you'd brought it up.

It takes months for you to broach the topic of your future. You've grown comfortable in his company, no longer unsettled by the intensity of his gaze. He is still far from a husband but there is something like friendship blooming between you, an attraction that squeezes at your heart each time he smiles at you.

"I just want to be free." You admit, gazing out over the horizon. As you've spoken the sunrise has begun, rays of pink and orange reaching out to steal the night. You have to return to Dragonsreach soon before everyone else wakes. Despite that reasoning you find yourself leaning into Vilkas' shoulder, heart fluttering when he accepts your touch.

"Free?" He snorts, chin resting on the top of your head. "You're the Jarl's kid, you can do whatever you want."

"I've never made a choice for myself - I didn't even get to choose my husband." Clearly the lack of sleep has loosened your tongue. Vilkas chuckles, a sound that never fails to warm your heart.

"That's fair." He sighs, staring over your shoulder at Jorrvaskr. He's sure that the others have already awoken, chest tight with the unending duties threatening to drown him. "Someday, when we're done solving everyone else's problems, we'll get out of here."

Farkas

Since an early age, you've been warned to stay away from the Companions - their shimmering armor and heroic deeds are inviting but they do not live like you do. Their beast blood is a secret held only by those in the highest ranks, hidden away from the rest of their guild. You've never understood the secrecy but abide by your parents' warnings, heeding the wisdom of your pack.

Numbers have dwindled over the years. Tales told around the long table recount times when your pack commanded Whiterun's rolling plains, hunting and celebrating to their hearts' content. Each generation shrunk - the beast blood not passing on to younger generations and civilization encroaching upon the wilds. Handfuls of families have splintered off, some moving to new Holds while others joined larger packs.

You're fairly certain your hearing must be failing - after ages of warning every wolf off from dealing with the local guilds, your grandmother grimaces around those unbelievable words.

"What?"

"We can no longer survive on our own." She reiterates, your ears ringing. "These lands have been overhunted and new farms claim acres of land every day. Now with the Silver Hand moving into Whiterun," she sighs, gathering herself. Tears prick at your eyes when she rests a wrinkled hand on your shoulder. "Our family has entered an agreement with the Companions."

"Okay." You're struggling to wrap your head around this change but you'll manage - the pit in your stomach for months could finally cease. You know that food sources are growing scarce and numbers are falling but you're still a bit lightheaded at the finality of her statement.

"We've assured their continued support. They cannot back out of this deal."

"How? What do we have to give them?"

"You and some of the others will be married to the younger members of their inner circle."

It's like a punch to the gut. Your marriage is still a handful of years off but you will never forget about it - wondering each day if this is your last before being shackled to the Companions for the rest of your life. Your first meeting happens during a celebratory dinner, your heart in your throat as Kodlak presents the members of his pack.

One boy glowers across the hall and sneers at anyone who dares to speak to him. His brother stands nearby, a friendly smile on his face when Kodlak's hand lands on his shoulder. You can only pray that you aren't partnered with the unpleasant one.

"I'm Farkas." The kind boy introduces himself, calloused hand warm against yours. It takes a moment to remember your name - thankfully, your grandmother pats your shoulder and speaks for you.

"Nice to meet you." You choke out, terrified to be staring into the face of your future husband. His smile comes easily, dimples in his cheeks eyes radiating kindness. Light brown hair is braided out of his face and a broadsword is strapped across his well muscled back.

You spend the night awaiting the horrible stories your elders passed down to come true - that the Companions will shame your way of life or scoff at the state of your hall, but they are amiable. A bit reserved but they do nothing to earn your distrust. They share food and drink hauled down from their hall, listening intently to the stories told by your parents.

Farkas fits in too well. Even after Kodlak and the others stop visiting, contracts signed and goods exchanging hands, Farkas keeps coming. He shows up on your mother's doorstep with an armful of food and brings your siblings presents on their birthdays. Each time he appears you're shocked - this was sold to you as a marriage of convenience, one to fully unite your families. The grin on his face when he teaches your brother how to properly swing a sword or his willingness to help clear the dishes after dinner make you wonder if he was told something different.

Even as the season of your intended wedding approaches you cannot scrape up any distaste for him. You find your heart fluttering when Farkas rolls up his sleeves to help your father chop firewood or falls onto your bed at your side, curiously eyeing whatever book you're reading. You've both grown into a comfortable friendship, choosing to not speak of what awaits you only a few months away.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Farkas offers, eyes sliding your way. Even after all these years he still makes speech difficult, the friendly smile causing your brain to stop functioning. He's asked the question dozens of times but there's something loaded behind his words that makes this feel different. He's so careful when he holds your hand, clearly giving you space to shake him off.

Farkas follows the same path as always around local farms, a pleasant expression on his face but you feel the nerves radiating from him. Perhaps you've just got enough anxiety for you both.

"What's wrong?" You blurt, unable to contain the nerves any longer. Eyes sparkling in the moonlight Farkas turns to you and you're certain the whole valley can hear your heart ramming against your ribs.

"I want to marry you." His voice is uncharacteristically serious.

"That's been arranged since we were kids."

"No, I mean for real." Farkas insists, chilly fingers tracing the shape of your cheek. You've been close to others but nothing has felt like this, no one else has set your skin ablaze with a simple touch.

"I need you to know that I'm not just doing this because Kodlak said to. I want to be here with you, with your family - I want you."

It takes a few minutes to digest that - he wants you. Farkas is patient when you work through that, fingers tightening around yours as he awaits an answer. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you finally voice the feelings you've ignored for years.

"I want you, too."

Kissing him is so easy, it feels natural. He smells like home; the hands cupping your face are stained from helping your parents cook and the scent of your fireplace clings to hair you'd tied back. Farkas kisses you like it's the first time he's taken a breath, needy and desperate. His nose brushes yours before he's pulling back, that comforting smile rousing butterflies in your gut.

The wedding you'd spent years dreading surpasses all your expectations. Farkas cries the moment he sees you, tears streaming down his cheeks when he pledges each day of his life to yours. You pointedly ignore all the vows regarding duty and tradition - you love this man. You've fallen in love with him slowly and without realizing it, loving him a bit more each day you've spent with him. He speaks of his love for you and respect for your family, summoning fat tears in your eyes when he kisses you.

"Thanks for lovin' me." He murmurs into your hair, crushing you to his chest.

Arnbjorn

"You should do it."

"Absolutely not."

"It's the best way to ensure the survival of both our Guilds!" Delvin insists, that smug look on his face. He thinks he's already won. "If we don't come to an agreement, our groups are bound to cannibalize each other. Our customer base and services are too similar."

"All good points."

"Every Jarl is out for our blood and both of our Guilds have recently lost leaders." It's annoying how correct he is. Delvin nudges the ale toward you, clearly urging you to consider. "A partnership would solve nearly all our problems."

"And why can it not be a business partnership?" You ask, accepting the drink. "Your relationship with the Brotherhood has stood since before I even joined the Guild, has something caused you to doubt it?"

"Unfortunately." Delvin's expression sours at that. "Their new leader."

You agree to a meeting with their new leader, expecting the Listener - they've visited a few times when the Brotherhood needed Delvin's aid, most recently during their move to Dawnstar. Your friendship is easy but holds no attraction, certainly nothing that would tempt you into a marriage.

"The Listener isn't their official leader." Delvin corrects you at the last minute, the group of shadows entering the Flagon. "It's the old leader's widower."

He stands before you, intimidatingly tall and muscled. Unimpressed eyes shamelessly comb through the crowd of thieves, white hair braided away from a handsome face. Delvin's elbow nudges yours and your face burns when you stumble over your introduction, clearing your throat before the conversation begins.

It's rough. Their leader, Arnbjorn, clearly lacks his former partner's knack for negotiation. You'd only encountered Astrid a couple times before her death but remembered her way of speaking, calculated with a constant threat in each word. Arnbjorn is much more straightforward, the Listener and Nazir looking a bit uneasy at his side.

"I have no need of a wife." He speaks plainly, earning a glare from his companions. "My hands are full running the Brotherhood and looking after the recruits."

"My thoughts exactly." you concur, though the conversation spirals away from that point once again.

Gods, you feel like this is never going to end. Hours pass and Delvin's sheet of notes has become illegible. The Listener is predictably quiet, taking in everyone's words while Delvin and Nazir hash out the details - where barriers for contracts should be, how to notify the other, who can recruit in what regions. After far too many drinks their words devolve into an obnoxious drone.

You aren't entirely sure anyone notices when you excuse yourself. Maybe a breath of fresh air will clear your head. You're certain that the sun has risen and quite possibly fallen once more since the negotiations had begun, shuffling your way through the Cistern in search of the outdoors.

"Hey."

Two strong fingers grab your elbow just as you're about to climb to freedom. You turn, sucking in a deep breath when you realize that you're cramped into the secret passageway with Arnbjorn. His cheeks are flushed - he's had even more drinks than you, leaning on the wall for support.

"What?" You try to sound sure of yourself despite the distracting closeness of his body. It's troubling how handsome he is. Arnbjorn blinks at you, sucking in a deep breath before speaking.

"I didn't want you to think my protests have anything to do with you." He clears his throat, obviously struggling to speak so plainly. "It's just - my wife passed away. You're very pretty but I have to think about the Brotherhood."

"I understand." You breathe, unable to ignore the way his eyes seem glued to your mouth. He leans a bit closer and you can smell him, smoke and pine and you fight back the wave of attraction.

Kissing him is foolish. You know this. It is a dumb mistake that you cannot stop yourself from making, closing the tiny distance between you. His lips are warm and god, the large hand curling around your waist and drawing you closer feels divine. His body presses to yours, crowding you against the stone wall until you can feel every delicious inch of him.

"Oh gods -" Delvin's voice shatters the moment. You're shrinking back, Arnbjorn stumbling a few steps away but it's too late. Your face burns when Delvin and the Listener's stares pin you in place. "Well, looks like our problem solved itself."

Marrying him is strange. Arnbjorn is stiff and standoffish, barely grumbling when the arrangements are drawn up. It's hard to forget that kiss, heat creeping into your cheeks every time the memory emerges. He's not unkind, just unwaveringly professional.

"If you're not interested in your wife," the client's words are slurred when he nudges Arnbjorn. "Mind if I take a swing?" A few too many celebratory drinks have been shared after your first successful joint contract. He stares intently at you, arousal pounding through his veins at the sight of you wearing Brotherhood armor.

"What?" The wave of sheer rage catches him off guard. Arnbjorn glares down at the drunken lord, anger building when the man leers toward your group of thieves. He's restrained himself for so long, ignored the way your eyes linger and seek him out because of his damned principles - but he will not allow this.

"You clearly don't want her. No harm in someone else gettin' a chance, right?" The man grumbles into his goblet. "After all the coin I handed out for this job -"

All conversation ceases when Arnbjorn bolts out of his seat. Before you can ask what's wrong he's stalking toward you, fingers gentle but insistent when they grip your chin and tilt your lips toward his. His kiss is full of heat, brain flooding with unabashed arousal as your husband's hips press firmly into yours.

"What's this all about?" You pant, cheeks burning bright red when his nose brushes yours.

"Don't worry about it." Arnbjorn grumbles against your lips. He'll let his reservations slip for this evening of celebration. He tells himself that he will rebuild all those walls in the morning, allowing himself this one night as your husband.

#skyrim #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #brynjolf #miraak #vilkas #farkas #arnbjorn

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simplyraeblue · 3 months ago

Text

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she" pronoun used, a few more characters appear, Sukuna and reader are both hot for each other, a hot mess if you squint lol A/N: what does it say about me that my dreams are now occupied by this fic three chapters in? anywaaaaays, hope I did the guest appearances justice with their personalities (｡- .•) I try to remind myself this is a modern au and I can't just allow Sukuna to be too "King of Curses" like lol. index part two | part four

part three word count : 2,711

Sukuna had always thought that love wouldn’t be something he easily fell into. he was torn between the idea that no one would be right for him – or that he would never be right for anyone. last summer felt like it had proved the latter to be true, even though he knew why things ended up the way they did.

but now, you kept coming back. back to that bar every day, back to his thoughts constantly. he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the feelings he got whenever you were around. excitement, intrigue, and most of all, awe. you took his playful insults and dished them back tenfold – something he was growing used to enjoying.

and yet you were still flustered around him. and that made him even more thrilled. whenever he’d get your cheeks to flush, or your gaze averted from him, he counted it as a win, just because he got to see your expression change. and when it did, he could tell that slowly, but surely, you were falling as fast as he was.

despite your best efforts, you were. the idea that after work you could meet Sukuna at the bar made the day go by much faster. you were even finding yourself primping in the mirror before leaving. and god forbid, your dreams at night… filthy. and filled with him.

you had denied yourself long enough right? he was interested in you, wasn’t entirely crazy, and was very very attractive. maybe it was time to finally kick your vengeance act into gear – Sukuna was the perfect candidate.

imagine your surprise when you stepped out of work, expecting the usual walk around the corner to the bar, only to find Sukuna leaning casually against his motorcycle, waiting for you. the sight sent a shiver down your spine. he held the strap of his helmet loosely with two fingers, slung over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. when his crimson eyes met yours, that wicked grin of his spread across his face.

“well, this is unexpected,” you said as you approached, arms crossed in mock suspicion. “escaping our bar again?”

“you said our bar,” Sukuna pointed out, clearly relishing the words as he repeated them, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. has a nice ring to it.”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze fixed on you with a glint of mischief. “but I had a better idea today. you up for a little adventure?”

you raised a brow, glancing at his bike. “this isn’t one of those adventures where I mysteriously disappear and end up on the evening news, is it?”

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent warmth curling in your chest. “damn, you caught on to step six of my evil master plan,” he said, smirking.

“step six? what happened to steps one through five?” you asked, playing along despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh, those are just the warm-up,” Sukuna replied, leaning closer, his voice dipping just enough to send a thrill through you. “but don’t worry, princess. you’ll enjoy this.”

you hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “fine. but if this so-called adventure involves anything sketchy, I’m out.”

Sukuna’s grin only widened as he handed you the spare helmet, the same one you’d worn the night before. “relax, you’re in good hands. now, hop on.”

you clung to him a little tighter on the ride than you wanted to admit, the warmth of his back and the cool wind rushing past making for a strange, intoxicating contrast.

when the bike finally slowed, you glanced up, expecting some scenic overlook or hole-in-the-wall restaurant. instead, Sukuna pulled into the lot of a sleek, modern building. neon lights illuminated the name of the business: Cursed Ink.

“a tattoo shop?” you asked, sliding off the bike as he steadied it on the kickstand.

“my tattoo shop,” Sukuna corrected, pride lacing his tone as he pulled off his helmet.

you followed him inside, the smell of antiseptic and faint hints of ink filling the air. “wow,” you murmured, your eyes drifting to a wall of framed photographs showcasing some of the shop’s best work. “this is… impressive.”

“told you I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, watching you with an expression that was almost unreadable. he gestured toward one of the tattoo stations, where a black chair sat beneath a lamp. “that’s my spot.”

your gaze followed his hand, taking in the neatly arranged inks, the well-worn sketchpad sitting off to the side. “so, what? you brought me here to show off?”

“maybe,” he said with a shrug, but his grin hinted at more. “or maybe I figured you’d like to see a different side of me. you’re always so quick to think you’ve got me figured out.”

you turned to him, crossing your arms. “and what side is this, exactly?”

“the real one,” he said simply. “you’ve seen me at the bar, running my mouth and messing with you. but this? this is what I do. it’s what I’m good at.”

there was something uncharacteristically earnest in his tone, and it caught you off guard. you glanced around again, your gaze lingering on the bold, intricate designs hanging on the walls. “did you do these?”

“most of them,” Sukuna said, his voice tinged with cockiness. “the others are from the team. they’re good, but…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “let’s be honest. I’m better.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “of course you’d say that.”

“wanna see for yourself?” he challenged, stepping closer, his crimson eyes gleaming.

your pulse quickened as you caught the implication in his words. “what are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying,” Sukuna said, leaning against the counter, “if you’re feeling brave, I could give you a little something. something that’ll remind you of tonight.”

you hesitated, glancing at the tattoo chair, then back at Sukuna. the way his crimson eyes gleamed with challenge sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. “yeah, no,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not letting you put a needle anywhere near me.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “scared, princess?”

“scared?” you repeated with a scoff. “of you? hardly. but I’m not about to let you permanently mark me just because you feel like showing off.”

he chuckled, the sound low and rich as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed in mock defeat. he planned to mark you one day alright, just not with ink. “your loss. you could’ve had something to remember me by.”

“oh, trust me,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re already impossible to forget.”

his smirk widened at that, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than necessary. “good,” he said simply, pushing off the counter and motioning for you to follow. “guess I’ll just have to show you around instead.��

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and trailed behind him as he led you through the shop.

the place had more personality than you’d expected—walls lined with artwork, some of which you learned were Sukuna’s own designs.

“alright,” you admitted after he finished showing off a dragon piece that stretched across an entire back. “I’ll give you this—you’re good. like, really good.”

“finally, some recognition,” Sukuna teased, his grin smug. “I was starting to think you didn’t appreciate my talents.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you replied, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

suddenly, the bell at the front door chimed, signaling someone had entered the shop. you glanced at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow as his mouth tugged into an irritated frown.

“sounds like the rest of the clowns decided to show up,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation.

“Suku! saw your bike out front!” called a cheerful male voice, loud enough to echo through the shop. Sukuna’s eyes rolled so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“should I be worried about your friends?” you teased, but the grim look on Sukuna’s face made you half-wonder if it was a legitimate concern.

“they’re not friends,” Sukuna corrected, his irritation palpable. “they’re my partners. Suguru and Uraume. and along with them is Suguru’s best friend—who also happens to be the most annoying brat I’ve ever met—Satoru.”

right on cue, three figures appeared from around the corner. the first, Suguru Geto, was tall and composed, with long, sleek black hair tied back. next to him, Uraume stood with an air of quiet confidence. their sharp gaze darted between you and Sukuna, as if assessing the situation before speaking.

trailing behind was Satoru Gojo, whose striking white hair and smug grin made him an instant attention-grabber. he wore round sunglasses despite it being nighttime, and his energy was as loud and brash as his voice.

“well, well,” Satoru began, striding forward with his hands in his pockets. “what’s this? Sukuna actually entertaining a guest? didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Sukuna snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Suguru gave you a polite nod, his tone smooth as he said, “don’t mind him. Satoru’s personality is… an acquired taste.”

“hey asshole! I heard that!” Satoru chimed, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “so, who’s this? did you finally manage to find someone who doesn’t hate your guts, Sukuna?”

your lips twitched at the jab, but you stayed quiet, letting Sukuna handle the chaos.

“that's none of your business,” Sukuna growled, stepping slightly in front of you as if to shield you from whatever nonsense was about to follow.

Uraume’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before they turned to Sukuna, their voice calm and neutral. “you didn’t tell us you had company tonight.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything, do I?” Sukuna shot back.

“you never do,” Uraume said, the faintest hint of a smirk gracing their lips.

Suguru chuckled under his breath before addressing you directly. “forgive the intrusion. I’m Suguru. and the loud one is Satoru.”

“I’m right here!” Satoru protested, waving dramatically.

“and this is Uraume,” Suguru continued, ignoring the interruption.

you nodded at each of them, feeling the weight of their scrutiny but refusing to let it show. “nice to meet you. I guess.”

Satoru grinned, leaning toward Sukuna with a mock whisper. “she’s feisty.”

“say one more thing, and I’ll kick you out myself,” Sukuna threatened, his patience clearly wearing thin.

the group laughed—well, mostly Satoru and Suguru—while Uraume merely shook their head, as if used to the chaos.

Suguru leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. “didn’t peg you as the type to bring someone here, Sukuna. let me guess, you’ve been bragging about how you’re the best artist in the city?”

Sukuna smirked, his annoyance ebbing slightly. “don’t need to brag. everyone already knows.”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru cut in, waving a hand dismissively before plopping himself onto one of the tattoo chairs. “but damn, what’s the deal? you’ve been dodging our calls, and now we find you playing tour guide?” he turned to you, grinning like a cheshire cat. “what kind of blackmail material do you have on him?”

you couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity. “I think he just likes tormenting me in person.”

Satoru laughed loudly, slapping the arm of the chair. “oh shit, she’s funny. I like her.”

Sukuna shot him a glare that could’ve withered a plant. “you’re testing my patience, Gojo.”

Uraume stepped forward, their tone as cool as ever. “should we expect you to actually focus on work tomorrow, or are you going to be… otherwise occupied?”

“I don’t report to you,” Sukuna snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing.

Suguru raised his hands in mock surrender, the picture of calm. “alright, alright, we’ll stop prying. but next time, maybe let us know when you’re busy, so we don’t interrupt your – ahem – quality time.”

Sukuna groaned, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “you’re all insufferable. I swear, one day—”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru interrupted with a grin, spinning lazily in the chair. “one day you’ll kill us all. heard it a million fucking times. anyway,” he turned back to you, “you must be special if you’ve got the king of grump spending his evenings with you.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in attention towards you again. before you could respond, Sukuna stepped in, his voice sharp. “she’s not here for your entertainment, Gojo. don’t you have some other poor soul to annoy?”

“not tonight,” Satoru replied cheerily, leaning back as if he owned the place.

Suguru gave you an apologetic glance, his expression softening. “he means well. most of the time.”

Uraume, meanwhile, was silent but observant, their gaze never straying far from you or Sukuna. you got the sense they were assessing something, but what, you couldn’t tell. their gaze made you feel… uneasy. like you were a specimen under a microscope.

“I think that’s enough,” Sukuna said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’ve seen me. I’m alive. now get lost.”

“aw, don’t be like that, Suku,” Satoru teased, standing and stretching dramatically. “we were just starting to have fun.”

“I’m serious,” Sukuna growled, his patience officially gone.

Suguru chuckled under his breath but relented, motioning for Satoru and Uraume to follow. “alright, we’ll leave you to it. but don’t think this means we’re done with you.”

Uraume cast Sukuna a long look before turning to you. “it was… interesting to meet you.”

“likewise,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure what to make of them. did they hate you already? did you have something on your face?

with that, the trio finally made their exit, the bell chiming once again as the door swung shut behind them.

the silence that followed was almost jarring. you turned to Sukuna, raising an eyebrow. “so… that’s your crew?”

“unfortunately,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “don’t let them scare you off. they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. I kind of liked them.”

Sukuna groaned. “don’t encourage them. especially Gojo. that idiot doesn’t need more fuel for his damn ego.”

despite his grumbling, you could tell there was a begrudging fondness buried – deep – beneath the surface. it was strange, seeing Sukuna interact with people who clearly knew him so well, even if they drove him up the wall.

“alright, enough about them,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to you. “where were we before the circus rolled in?”

you laughed softly. “something about me not letting you give me a tattoo?”

his lips curled into a smirk, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “right. you’re still a coward for that, by the way.”

“keep dreaming,” you shot back, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to keep the smile off your face.

Sukuna leaned closer, his smirk sharp as ever, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “you know, you can’t avoid it forever. one day, you’ll let me leave my mark on you.”

“don’t count on it,” you replied, trying to sound defiant despite the way your heartbeat quickened.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning back casually. “we’ll see.”

the tension hung in the air, thick and electric, before Sukuna finally grabbed his helmet and tossed it your way. you barely caught it, giving him a questioning look.

“come on,” he said, already heading for the door. “let’s get out of here, it’s getting late.”

you rolled your eyes but followed, the sound of the shop’s lights clicking off behind you.

as you climbed onto the back of his bike, your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, the motion feeling almost second nature by now. it was startling how natural it felt—being this close to him, fitting into this unpredictable rhythm he’d drawn you into. a thought crept into your mind, frustratingly persistent: would you feel disappointed if he didn’t show up tomorrow?

the answer lingered in your chest, heavier than you expected.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen ryomen

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