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kaisturni · 3 months

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rope bunny (pillow princess pt 2) | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; after your first night with chris, you do your best to stay out of the radar of his brothers. when you two return back to your room after filming, chris has a kink he wants to work out with you.

→ includes; smut, unprotected sex, restraining, f! oral, getting caught (kinda), creampie, angst if you squint, light fluff

→ a/n; i was going to post tomorrow but i could not WAIT hope i did it justice for everyone since this is my most loved fic (out of three lol but still crazy) and this one’s for the horny freaky FUCKS, ur just like me and i’m just like u, enjoy 🙈

NOT PROOFREAD

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i opened my eyes and squint, adjusting to the bright sun entering the room. i’m still naked, still hugging chris, and still buzzed from the events of last night.

he’s already on his phone, and when he notices that i’m awake and looking at him, he smiles and peppers kisses all over my face,

“mornin’ baby,” placing the last kiss on my lips, making sure this one was longer than the others.

“good morning, how did you sleep?” i ask while stretching, the blanket slipping down, exposing my bare chest.

chris bites his lip lightly, “slept good, feeling even better now,” he whispers into my ear, taking a hand and squeezing.

i do my best to not groan at his action, since the day has just started, “chris! seriously? not right now!” i laugh, slightly pushing him away and crawling out of bed to get myself into the shower.

he frowns at the loss of contact, “sorry i just cant help mysel- are you showering? can i come with???” he pleads after watching me grab a towel and shuffle to the bathroom,

as much as i want to get in to the shower with him right now, i know were in a rush and we have places to be with nick and matt, and i don’t think we need them on our trail with both of us coming out of the room with wet hair.

“didn’t you shower last night? plus we have to get going in 20, that’s not enough time for-“

“for what?” he smirks,

“nothing, it’s just not enough time!” i half yell, slamming the bathroom door. honestly, the fact that he’s so needy already is cute.

it makes me wonder how he’s going to act when we’re with nick and matt. is it going to be awkward? obvious? are they going to clock us right away and never speak to me again? i shudder at my own imagination. i guess we’ll find out today.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

they haven’t picked up on anything.

which is good, because chris and i aren’t exactly doing a very good job at keeping a low profile.

he’s been stealing kisses from me all day; whenever the camera is not on, we’ll find ourselves trailing behind the group just to give each other a few quick pecks,

even sitting next to me and squeezing my thighs under the table when we go out to eat, laughing when he sees me trying to control myself under his touch.

“we’ve got to get going to the driskill now, is everyone ready?” nick asks, and we all nod following him out of the restaurant and to the hotel.

of course, chris and i “unintentionally” trail to the back again, holding hands and kissing behind his oblivious brothers.

that is, until matt turns his head around just as chris is about to kiss me again, and we have to almost rip apart at his eye contact.

“jesus, what’s wrong with you two??” matt questions with a chuckle, with good reason because i’m obviously extremely startled by almost getting caught.

“nothing, i was just saying something to scare her before we got to the hotel,” chris says nonchalantly, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.

“well i don’t want to know, i’m already fucking terrified,” nick chimes in, thankfully not turning around and continuing to keep his eyes ahead of him.

matt agrees, and they carry their own conversation, forgetting about us. chris gives me a little wink and a quick peck on the side of the head, both of us in a silent agreement not to try anything to close to them, it not being worthy the risk.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we’ve been filming for about an hour or two at this point, we end up in a room where sam and colby decide this is where we’re doing the estes method.

“okay so y/n and nick can go first, just sit over on that couch put these blindfolds and headphone on and you’ll start hearing words playing back to you,” sam tells us while handing nick and i our gear.

chris watches me without even blinking while i put my blindfold on, and i stare back at him until i see nothing.

nick and i do it for about 10 minutes and we were able to get some good stuff for their video,

“matt and chris, how about y’all try it next” colby says as nick and i unblind ourselves.

i hand chris my blindfold and he bends down to my level, “you look so fucking sexy with a blindfold on, remind me to steal those from them later,” he whispers and smiles devilishly, taking the blindfold from my hands and claiming my spot.

i can feel my heart rate pick up at both his comment and our proximity to the others, it seems like he really does not care about getting caught; or he just lives for the thrill of it.

now that him and matt have the blindfolds on, chris starts man spreading, bucking his hips upwards and throwing his head back.

this man knows exactly what he’s fucking doing.

every word he says is in a low, slow voice, and i’m sure he’s laughing in his head at the vision of me squirming at what he’s doing.

him and matt finish, chris taking matt’s blindfold from him, “i can put these away for you guys,” he says to colby, and he thanks him and the group starts walking towards the bathroom.

i look back at chris and he’s shoving the blindfolds into his pocket, bringing his index finger to his lips, giving me a silent hush. my breath hitches and i don’t want to even let myself get hot and bothered by what he could be having in store for me later.

the fantasy that almost begins to brew in my head is flushed by nick and matt's whispers ahead of me.

“i don’t know, it’s weird!”

“i don’t believe you for a second.”

“i swear, i don’t know what happened last night, but something is going on between them,”

i feel my heart sink to my stomach the second i hear those words come out of matt’s mouth. he must have suspected something when we were walking to the hotel. were we being that obvious the whole day? i can’t even remember at this point.

i can feel my heart race and breath pick up, anxiety seeping through my body before i feel a hand on my shoulder,

“you good?” chris looks at me, a worried expression on his face.

the last thing i want to do is make him worry about his brother’s speculations, so i give him a half hearted smile,

“yes, just tired that’s all,” his eyes search my face,

“me too, it’s okay we’ll be done filming soon,” he pats my shoulder lightly and turns to talk to his brothers. i’m jealous of how calm he’s able to be with the way he’s asking. it’s not like i’m the one who’s being risky, but it sure as hell feels like it does.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

it’s around one in the morning when we say goodbye to sam and colby and start heading back to our own hotel.

i decided to walk with nick instead of chris, and even then i can feel matt’s eyes burning into the back of my head.

i do my best to actually keep eye contact with him whenever he looks at me just so i can show i don’t have the “we both know i’m with your brother” expression on my face.

“goodnight, we’ll see you guys tomorrow to check out thrifts and shit,” chris starts, before beginning to walk in the direction of our room.

“what? i thought we were all going to hang in our room for a little,” nick asks, looking at me confused,

“nah, y/n told me she’s super tired and i don’t want to keep her up if i come in late, right, y/n?”

god he’s so fucking good on the spot it drives me nuts.

“yeah i’m exhausted, all that ghost hunting has me beat, but don’t worry nick i promise shopping tomorrow will make up for it,” i say,

“keep your promise missy!”

i salute him before giving nick an arm hug and walking away as we blow each other a kiss.

chris keys us in to our room, while looking back at me with a sweet smile and kisses me on the cheek,

“m’lady,” he says while ushering me to go in, causing me to roll my eyes and giggle.

i don’t even have time to think before chris slams me into the door of the room and pushes his lips into mine.

we moan into each others mouths, his arms snaking around my waist and mine wrapping around his neck on cue.

“fuck, i’ve been needing you all day, i don’t know how i waited this long,” chris says breaking the contact between our mouths and moving his lips down to my neck with a trail of sloppy kisses,

“jump,” he demands, and i do and he holds my legs in place around his legs,

“chris,” i breathe out, unable to come up with complete sentences to say.

he moves his lips back up to mine, and without breaking our kiss lays me down on the bed, himself still standing over me.

chris breaks away fast and harsh, i look at him slightly confused,

“what’s wrong? what are you do-oh my god,”

chris pulls out both blindfolds he stole while we were filming, which i had entirely forgotten about. honestly i thought he just put them in his pocket for the theatrics, but i was dead wrong.

“thought i forgot about these, huh? i couldn’t get the sight of you with it on out of my head,” he says while removing my top then kissing the part of my breasts that are exposed through my bra.

“i couldn’t decide if i wanted to blindfold you or tie you up with it, so i decided on both. now strip,” he stands up tall and holds the silky fabric between his hands, wrapping it around his left knuckles.

i do as i’m told and i get completely naked, sinking to the ground in front him.

he takes his top layers off until he’s standing there in just pants, eyes dark and peering down at me.

i can feel myself quickly getting soaked, and chris grabs my throat and pulls me up closer to his level,

“you’re gonna do as i say, got that baby?” i nod vigorously, and he motions for me to lay on the bed.

“put your arms pretty girl,” he husks, kissing up my naked body before tying my wrists together in a bow above my head.

“i didn’t think you would be into this kind of thing, christopher,” i purr at him, watching chris bite his lip at my comment,

“i’m mainly just in to you, and since you’re mine i get to try anything i want with you, right?” he says, dipping down to suck on my nipple.

the feeling causes me to moan and squeeze my legs together, aching for him to absolutely fuck me senseless.

“r-right,” i say in a breathless agreement, and he gives me that devilish smile once again.

“good. now just lay back and enjoy it all baby,” he brings the blindfold up to my face and i lift my head so he can tie it around my head.

immediately i feel his hand go between my soaking core, causing me to arch my back even his gentle touch,

“you’re already so wet, you make it so hard to not fuck you so quick,” his voice rings into my ears like a melody as his two fingers enter me with ease.

“oh fuck, mmm…chris-“ i wriggle in my makeshift handcuffs when he curls his fingers with each pump, hitting the perfect spot every single time.

he removes his fingers from inside me, and i groan at the void of the pleasure that was building up inside me.

suddenly he pushes my legs further apart, and i gasp when i feel his mouth sucking on my clit.

pornographic moans echo in the room, and he buries his face deeper into my pussy, vibrations of his moans sending me further into a frenzy.

i’d give fucking anything to grip on to his hair right now, but since that option was taken away from me i’m left squirming under his touch, feeling the knots in my stomach grow tighter by the minute.

“shit right there, don’t fucking stop please,” i feel like i’m going to explode as he goes between sucking on my clit and giving fast licks to it on the tip of his tongue.

“how could i? you taste so sweet, y/n, god i love your pussy in my face,” he says before immediately going back to his attack on my core.

“b-baby i’m so close,” i practically scream out,

“let it all out f’me pretty girl,” he mumbled against me, and i release all over, feelings my legs trembling over my high.

i feel chris’ soaking wet mouth on my lips again, tasting myself as he explores my mouth with his.

he breaks away and i inhale deeply, picking up the sounds of his belt and the undoing of a zipper.

i feel his dick rub between me a few times before he immediately starts thrusting, holding my hips in place for his movement.

“ah chris! too much, too much!” i groan, my body still aching and the overstimulation well washed on me.

“no, take it—take it like the good girl i know you are,” he says, not breaking a rhythm of the pace of him slamming into me.

our moans meet once again, and his roughness only takes me further on the path to another orgasm.

he only moves his body to kiss me, rough and hard like his own movements.

“fuck y/n, i’m not lasting long with you,” he whimpers out, and i cant even focus on the words he’s saying because of the fire ready to burst inside of me.

“chris i-i’m gonna c-cum again,” i manage to say barely above a whisper, i’m so fucked out that even breathing is a challenge at this point.

“cum with me,” he says, his thrusts becoming sloppier, and we both reach out highs, feelings myself becoming warm with my own and his juices mixing inside of me.

chris removed the blindfold around my wrists and face, his tired eyes meeting mine.

he kisses all over my face with slow, gentle presses, “how was that?” he asks, then kissing the tip of my nose once more.

it’s insane how much of a different person chris turns into when we fuck.

“it was so good chris, thank you,” i say before reaching for my phone and crawling back on top of the bed.

chris joins me, and i lay on his body with my leg thrown over him; gently scratching my leg.

i notice i’m at low battery, thinking to get a charger, but immediately groaning in annoyance.

“what, what’s wrong?”

“i left my charger in their room. can you go get it? they must think i’m asleep by now,” i ask with doe eyes.

i know he’s going to do it anyway, but what’s the fun without teasing?

he laughs, “well since you asked so nicely,” he says before pecking my cheek,

“i can, i’ll be right back,”

i hum in response and he gets up, throwing just his boxers and a robe on.

i don’t bother putting on any clothes yet, but i do make myself comfortable in the blanket of the bed.

i close my eyes and hear the door open,

“okay WHAT the fuck.”

my eyes shoot open as i see matt and nick looking straight at me, horror filling both of their eyes.

chris is in a robe, i’m still very obviously naked, and there’s the stolen blindfolds on the bed; it’s not a good look.

i don’t even know what to say, the ringing in my ears beginning, feeling like i’m going to pass out.

why are they even here? were they listening? waiting?

i’m so full of embarrassment and anger, that i can’t even control myself.

“GET OUT, ALL OF YOU GET OUT!” i scream, and all of them look at me in shocked silence while i take the heap of blanket out of the bed with me and shove chris out of the room into the hallway with nick and matt.

it isn’t his fault, but it kind of is. for some reason i’m not really angry with him, more so at the situation. all of this could’ve been avoided if we just said something sooner and that’s what makes me feel the worst.

i quickly change into a pair of chris’ sweats and my own tshirt, rubbing my face into my palms as i brace myself to open the door again.

“y/n-“ matt starts,

“so you think it’s okay to fucking listen in on us through the door like a creep? what is wrong with you!” i yell, feeling the tears begin to pool into my eyes,

“no, no! that’s not what happened, we came because-“

“i heard what you said at the driskill!”

“what?” chris looks at the two confused, and they just ignore his expression and relay their focus back to me,

“y/n, we were just joking around. we came to bring you your charger that you left in my bag. anyway, we didn’t think actually anything was going on between you two.” nick starts calmly, allowing my own temper to mellow out with his soft speaking.

“yeah, we were just messing around. but obviously there was some… truth to it,” matt finishes.

chris sits silently next to me on the bed rubbing my back while i bury my face in my hands in shame.

“i’m so sorry guys, i don’t want you to fucking hate me for this, especially you nick; we were friends first,” i lightly sob into my hands and nick sits down on the other side of me,

“hey no, i, we, could never hate you for dating our brother— you guys are like, dating now right?” he says, looking at chris with raised eyebrows,

and i look at him, knowing we’re more that just fuck buddies; he said so himself. but just out of the curiosity of what he will say to his own brothers.

“of course we are,” we smile at each other and i turn back to nick,

“then i’m happy for you both. just remind me to fucking rip my ears and eyes out after hearing, and SEEING what i just witnessed,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up and closing his eyes, trying to shake the memories from his head.

“oh GOD, please tell me you didn’t hear much?” i look at him and matt with pleading eyes,

“don’t worry, just the OHHH CHRIS, IM GONNA CUM!” matt mocks him; nick groaning in disgust and chris and i turning red at his words.

“okay okay, thank you guys now get out, and don’t stick around uninvited,” chris says, getting up and opening the door for them.

“hope you guys will actually be fuckin asleep when we see you next!” nick says, the door following soon behind him.

chris takes a deep sign, “well, that was out sooner than later. are you okay?”

“yeah, i am. i’m glad they know now, i don’t know how long we could’ve kept this up without them knowing,” i say,

he plays with the end of my hair, “me too, i never want to keep you a secret,” he gives me a half crooked smile,

i kiss him gently and wrap my arms around him, his presence safe and calming.

“thank you, chris. i do need to shower though, i’m still… covered,” i say, collecting a towel and some of chris’ clothes he’s been letting me borrow.

“can i come with this time?”

“chris!”

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@chrizzpiecreme @viiiwwwee @mattsbrowser @anna-sturniolo @kellynlovesmatt

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lostgirlmuseum · 11 months

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Who the Hell is Daryl?

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it.

He was finally going to ask you out.

-----

To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.

The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.

The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him.

“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”

He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle.

You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him.

“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena.

His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.

I’m going to marry her someday.

He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.

Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck.

After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings.

You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.

He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.

“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.

“What’s up?”

“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”

“You got it, Doll.”

“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.

Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.

But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.

Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?

Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.

Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around

You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?

Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful

You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?

Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set.

So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?

Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.

Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.

You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.

“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.

“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”

With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.

Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.

Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall.

And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees.

Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?”

“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”

“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly.

Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.

“Which friend?”

“Penny.”

So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.

He didn’t move from his bed.

“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.

He couldn’t get himself to respond.

The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.

“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.

A pause.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.

“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”

“Okay…”

He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”

He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.

“Where were you?” He asked.

You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this.

“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.

Your eyes widened at his bite.

“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.

“I am!”

“Then who is Daryl?”

“What?”

“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.

“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.

“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.

“Call the number.” You simply said.

“What?” He repeated.

“Take my phone, and call the number.”

Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon.

“Go ahead,” you urged.

He pressed the button.

Ring.

Ri—

“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”

“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.

“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”

“P—Penny?” He sputtered.

“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”

“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”

“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.

Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.

“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”

“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.

He gulped.

“I was going to ask you to be with me.”

You tilted your head, not quite understanding.

“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”

“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"

"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.

"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.

He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.

“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.

Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.

A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!

Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh

Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #Bucky miscommunication #Bucky barnes miscommunication #jealous!Bucky #avenger!reader #bucky x avenger!reader

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mclqren · 6 months

Text

SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others

yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️

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user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older

user2 she does it againnn!!

user3 london is RED ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

bethmead_ my girllll 💘

yourusername love youu!!

user4 i look up to her sm

user5 sameee!!

user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL

user7 literally NO CLUE HOW

charles_leclerc

( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )

liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others

yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:

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user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO

user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️

yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️

user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??

user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?

user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet

liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others

yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘

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user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!

user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't

user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??

user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??

user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER

bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me

yourusername shhh look away ❤️

charles_leclerc millieee!!

yourusername my fav 💘

user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?

user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️

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user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.

user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL

user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!

user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED

user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??

user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!

user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗

yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...

charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘

yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)

charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??

yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??

user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>

liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊

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user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT

user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??

user33 AW MY HEARTTT

user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW

bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(

yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘

bethmead_ omw!!

charles_leclerc i love you

yourusername LOVE YOU MORE

user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.

charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC

yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘

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#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #smau #formula one x you #mclqren #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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prodagustd · 1 month

Text

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

<part three

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy.

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure.

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself.

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands.

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you.

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal.

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.”

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him.

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway.

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second.

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him.

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left.

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone.

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you.

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you?

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed.

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs.

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice.

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few.

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?”

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate.

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly.

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far.

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried.

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why.

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth.

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago.

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain.

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit. “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you.

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit.

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...”

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!”

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could.

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again.

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs.

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home.

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch.

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat.

“I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you.

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight.

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends.

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy.

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.”

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego.

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer.

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.”

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said.

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.”

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back.

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.”

“At mom?”

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.”

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said.

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.”

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.”

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly.

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around”

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.”

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.”

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop.

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever.

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep.

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.”

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.”

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said.

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.”

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish.

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew.

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was.

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.”

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown.

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.”

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things.

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?”

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat.

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that.

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.”

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad.

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.”

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?”

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?”

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it.

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well”

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

“Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed.

“What, am I wrong?”

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew?

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious.

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.”

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?”

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.”

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.”

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.”

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again?

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes.

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.”

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter.

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him.

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter.

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed.

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything.

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear.

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid.

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head.

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.”

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed.

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air.

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind.

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.”

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.”

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe.

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers.

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky.

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?”

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.”

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”.

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was.

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

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spideystevie · 2 months

Text

bad for business

summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3

You’re late. You’re never late.

The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office.

You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee.

It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?

Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again!

Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different.

“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here.

“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”

Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.

“Right.”

“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot.

“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”

Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here.

You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air.

“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say.

You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.

Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.

“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”

“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot.

Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face.

He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in.

“Anything new this morning, Cliff?”

You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break.

“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head.

“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls.

“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks.

“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke.

“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily.

“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”

He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down.

You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave.

“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him.

You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you.

There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well.

Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t.

Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.

You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.

“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”

Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it.

“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.

“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”

“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh.

“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”

At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”

His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.

Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper.

“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”

Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot.

“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.

“What?”

“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate.

“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”

“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door.

Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff.

“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”

Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features.

“Steve?”

He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you.

He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table.

“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.

“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table.

“You kids want anything to eat?”

The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?

Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.

“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move.

“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad.

“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake.

“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”

You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush.

Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time.

By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm.

“I like her,” he says.

“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.

“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.

He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause.

“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”

Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step.

The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands.

He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air.

You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync.

“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again.

“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes.

“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat.

“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place.

“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat.

It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds.

“I’m never living this down.”

He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile.

“So what was your excuse then? For being late?”

He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his.

“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles.

“And did it work? Did she buy it?”

“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?”

Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh.

“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash.

He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day.

“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.

“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”

You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours.

He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway.

Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired.

And, at least you’re not late this time.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #📝: a writes!

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wandaspup · 2 months

Text

Sinners Part 3

Summary: In a small town, you try living up to your mother’s expectations while encountering Wanda Maximoff, a mysterious woman and a childhood friend of your mothers. It leaves you questioning her intentions and your beliefs.

parings: Wanda x Fem!R

Warnings: None

Author Notes: I decided to post because It’s been almost two months and I don’t like making a chapter extremely long! So next chapter will be full of smut! And the truth about what happened with Wanda. Thank you for everyone’s support! I’m never doing a mini series for awhile or maybe just keep it on the down low next time lol I can’t wait to share my other ideas! I got so many dark Wanda and Natty stories floating in my gay ass brain.

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The sound of the bell chimes as you enter the coffee shop you’re well familiar with, your body shifting towards your favorite spot in the café. Dark circles beneath your eyes and the pulsing pain in your arms and legs are reminders of the exhausting morning you had. Your mother woke you up early to help with boxes and cleaning the church for the upcoming Sunday. You’d told her an hour ago that you were taking a break, leaving quickly before she could protest, but you already knew she’d give you a piece of her mind later.

You rolled your neck from left to right, hoping for a satisfying pop. It was only twelve in the afternoon when you snuck a glance at the clock. Deciding to rest your head on your arm, you closed your eyes for a moment. A flurry of thoughts swarmed in—college, the possibility of leaving this town. Though you enjoyed it here, you hopelessly hoped you’d get to see more than the same people and the same stores you passed every day. But the arrival of one specific person was messing with your plans, as if they were being scrambled like a crumpled piece of paper, with only her laid out as the perfect piece of paper right in front of you.

Wanda Maximoff had been on your mind ever since that night. Her presence confused you. When you went to sleep that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about her hand on your thigh. You convinced yourself that she was just being friendly—a comforting gesture, right? A simple touch from one woman to another, like you see all the time between girls and their friends. Wanda was just being friendly, that’s all.

Looking down, you noticed your hand resting on the same leg Wanda had touched. You stared at it for a long time, lost in thought, before someone or something pulled you out of your daydream.

“I’m being ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, trying to shake off the lingering feelings.

You waited until the line was empty and slipped past the small tables surrounding the area, muttering an apology when you accidentally bumped into someone in front of you. Before you could say anything, you heard that familiar voice.

Wanda stood right there, a delicate smirk on her lips and her arms crossed over her chest. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You couldn’t decide whether to be amazed or cautious around Wanda. It felt like she always knew exactly where you’d be. Maybe your suspicion of being followed wasn’t so crazy after all. Scratching the back of your head, you chuckled softly.

“I was hoping to see you again. Taking a break from your mother, I see?”

Surprised, you blinked rapidly. “How did you know about that?”

She rolled her eyes and glanced at the menu above the cash register, shrugging her shoulders. “I just assumed, silly. Your mother always loved working and running the show back in high school. I remember she made another classmate her little minion.”

There was a brief pause before you answered. “Oh, I see... well, yeah, she’s got me packing and unpacking a bunch of boxes at the church.”

Wanda nodded and approached the woman at the counter with a warm smile. She gestured towards you and said, “It’s on me.”

You insisted on paying for yourself, but ultimately, she won the argument. Feeling your knees threaten to buckle, you quickly sat down, careful not to spill your coffee. Wanda hid her smirk as she took a seat across from you.

“So how have you been?” You cringed. That sounded much better in your head. Wanda reached across the table and squeezed your hand, her touch cold yet gentle.

"No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” she reassured you. “After all, I’m a friend of your mother’s. We’re basically family.”

“Right.” You let the tension in your body dissipate and stared down at your coffee.

“Thanks for the coffee by the way.”

“My pleasure darlin.”

You carefully considered your next words. The diner became much quieter than it was when you got here. There was something you desperately wanted to know, and she was the only one able to tell you the truth. Your stomach clenched with nerves as you released it and took a deep breath. Wanda patiently waited but deep down she was relishing in the way you acted around her. You were after all just a sweet and polite girl who goes to church every Sunday and does whatever people tell you. Wanda was about to bask in the afterglow of it all.

“What happened between you and my mom? How come she never mentioned you?”

Wanda’s expression shifted, a shadow creeping beneath her features. “We drifted apart,” she began, her voice sounding dry and dull. “It was our senior year of high school. Your mom got pregnant with you, and everything changed. She decided to move here, to start fresh, I suppose.”

There’s a nagging feeling that something was off, but you chose to let it go. Wanda’s eyes stared blankly at you for a moment before a smile crept onto her candy lips. “I had a great time at dinner, by the way.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself Ms.Maximoff”

Wanda waved and dismissed you, patting the top of your hand resting on the table. “No need for formalities, sweetie. Just call me Wanda.”

The hour went by fast. You gazed up at the clock and thought of your mother having a freak-out that you weren’t back at the church by now. Wanda noticed this and smirked. Everything was going according to plan, and she wasn’t about to let it stop now. “Is everything alright dear?”

You gave a tight smile and checked your phone for messages. Wanda watched you intently. You felt you could trust her and hoped she’d understand. After all, she knew your parents since high school. She was family.

“I know it’s not my place, but I understand what you’re going through with your mother,” Wanda said softly. “I’ve been there with my own.”

“Really? Are you still in contact with her?” you asked, leaning in.

Wanda chuckled and grabbed a napkin, dabbing the corner of your mouth. “Let’s just say the only way I can contact her now is through prayers. She passed a few years ago.”

You head dipped as you apologized for asking. Wanda dismissed your apology right away, claiming her mother wasn’t everything she hoped for. “I loved my mother, even I often felt I was never enough for her. But I’m sure your own mother doesn’t feel the same way about you.”

“My own mother controls everything I do. It’s infuriating. I can never any decisions without her approval.”

“Sweetheart.” She patted the top of your hand, looking at you with those wide green eyes. She breathed in and out, licking her top lip before smacking them with a pop. “If you want to live your life, you either need to do that on your own or forever live under your mother’s reality. It’s your choice, but remember, whatever you decide, I’ll always be here for you.”

After your talk, you hurried back to the church, your mind racing about what Wanda told you. When you entered, the air hung heavy with packed boxes, neatly lined up and some stacked in preparation for the upcoming parade. And then there she was—the woman you had dreaded seeing—standing in the aisle, clutching a clipboard with a smudged expression written on her face.

“Glad to see my own daughter can remember something,” she remarked sharply. She pointed towards a couple boxes on the left. “I need those boxes unpacked and everything organized properly.”

Moving towards the boxes, you began to carefully open them, her words still dawned heavy on your mind. You gripped the box tightly, feeling the veins in your wrist strain against your wrist. Taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes as you focused on something to prevent yourself from lashing out. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to think of anything else, Wanda’s image kept intruding into your thoughts.

Her voice echoed in your mind, urging you to do what was right and stand up for yourself. Thinking of her and the reassuring sound of her voice visibly relaxed you. As you scanned the church, your gaze settled on the podium, a sudden realization of where you stood struck. You gently inhaled and exhaled, silently whispering forgiveness. If you were honest, you didn’t fully understand why you had asked--or perhaps it was to brace yourself for her. There were times when you feared you give in, and you clung to anything that keep you sane.

But you also didn’t want to be sane and Wanda can see right through you more than anybody has in this town. Even your own parents.

With a steady hand, the knife ripped through the tape sealing the top with little crinkles and the flaps spread out. Carefully grabbing the contents inside and setting them down on the floor by you. You did that to another five boxes till you got ready on organizing and stacking the contents in order.

“Thought you’d be done by now.”

You shrugged and kept your eyes focused on the task. “Want this done or not?”

She scoffed and tilted her head. The anticaption growing every millisecond, waiting for her to explode. Wanda’s words mimicked in her head, almost engraved once your mother spoke her words.

“Watch your mouth. I’m your mother and you will talk to me with respect. Do you understand me?”

The knife slams down on the broken boxes. You pounced towards her with your fingertips digging in your palms. Opening and closing your mouth, the words you wanted to say were on the tip of your tongue begging for release. As you chuckled, you looked between your mother and the podium. “I’m going to be off to college soon and I’m not going to need you anymore.”

You headed towards the doors not bothering to even acknowledge the shock on your mother’s face.

“These boxes still need to be unpacked.”

“Unpack them yourself.”

Just before reaching the door, you paused with your hand on the handle, hesitant to turn it. You waited for her to speak, knowing she wouldn’t let the moment pass. Finally, you turned back to face your mother. She wore a stone-cold face. “You’re never going to make it into college or anywhere for that matter. Why do you think I’m hard on you?”

You scoffed, your voice radiated with disbelief. “Than why pay for college? Why let Dad waste your precious money?” The words hung heavy.

She took a few steps forward, her expression was unreadable. She stood still, searching in her delirious state of mind for words she wanted to say. Silence stretched out, everything tense and only angry rifted through it. You shifted uncomfortably, your mind racing and waiting for her to speak.

“I want to see you succeed,” she began, her tone measured, “but I know in my heart you’re going to fail, and you’ll be crawling right back to us.”

After her words were done and out in the open. You clenched and unclenched your hands, wishing Wanda was here to support you. “So you’re giving me false hope? What kind of mother are you.”

“A mother who loves her child enough to keep her from making stupid mistakes and don’t even lie... I know you spend time with Wanda.

In a swift motion you pulled yourself together and crossed your arms over your chest.

You wondered if she saw you two at the coffee shop or someone opened their mouth. It is a small town after all. “What if I am? She’s been a better mother figure then you’ve been for 19 years of my life.”

“Wanda is an old friend who I love dearly but she is no position to replace me.”

You swore, feeling the heat rise within you like steam leaking from a kettle. “I never said she was,” you asserted firmly, your voice edged with frustration. “And how come you never thought to introduce me to her? Why haven’t you guys spoken for years?”

She sighed than almost hesitating, the nature of your words determined for answers and the truth floated like specks of dust. You stood and waited patiently, looking right into her eyes to see if she was lying. Your mother had always lied on multiple occasions, so you picked on her tactics long the way.

“I do not know why. Life happened and everyone drifted apart. Only God knows the answer.

You lingered for a second before turning back and opening the door, leaving your mother standing alone in an empty church and sun rays blasting through the stained windows. The fresh, earthy scent of recently cut grass and the gentle breeze brushing against your skin momentarily eased your mind. You took a few deep breaths, placing your hands on your hips as you gazed up at the sky.

Thoughts of Wanda suddenly filled your mind. She seemed to be the only person who had been truly honest with you. You began walking with the hope of running into her, as you often did. As you moved further from the church, which was now just a distant blur, you noticed a car slowly trailing behind you. The tinted windows obscured the driver’s identity, so you stood still, hands in your pockets, maintaining a cautious distance.

“Hey sweetie... need a lift?”

A relieved sigh escaped your lips. You reached for the door handle, and it swung open to reveal a cabin with neat brown leather seats and red interior. “Thank you, Wanda,” you said as you slid into the seat and buckled up, your hands trembling slightly. The sweet scent of peaches filled the air as you settled in.

“I did say I’d always be there,” Wanda chuckled, tapping her fingers lightly against the steering wheel as she started driving. “So, how’s everything with your mother?”

“I don’t want to talk about her right now,” you said calmly, though a trace of frustration lingered in your voice. You reached for the button on the door panel, pressing it firmly. As the window rolled down with a soft whir, the breeze gently flowed into the car, mingling with the lingering scent of peaches.

“Can I come over to your place?” You hesitated for a moment before adding, “If that’s okay with you.”

Wanda grinned from ear to ear, briefly glancing at you with a knowing look. “I’d love the company. Your mother is always caught up in work, and I’m the one visiting.”

“She always chooses work over everything else...” you murmured, your voice tinged with a mix of angry and sadness. Sometimes, you found it hard to care at all when it came to her.

Wanda’s gaze lingered for a moment, though her attention remained on the road. She turned a corner and parked the car, shifting the gear into park and turning off the engine. With a gentle squeeze of your thigh, drawing your attention to her. Large, doe-like green eyes seemed to hold you in their gaze, making you hesitant to move a muscle. “Let’s get you inside darling.”

taglist;

@ifthisaintmee @the-lakes89 @aru-son

@maximoff-jp @unicorniusfallapatorius @random-fag @natashaswife4125 @wndasdoll

@thursdayygrrrl @falloutboy-lover @obsessedwjill @ksandraxox @scarletnatsblog

@bbbyliv0202 @peyt-n @wandaswife13 @criticsstuff @kimlipimsingle @sam-h-69

@rowiebear @thalia-is-not-ok @immclovinmilfs

@aemilia19 @jazzabebev @ksandraxox @starynn

@lottiemistsgf

#wanda maximoff #sinnerseries #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy wanda #dark wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda marvel #wanda maximilf #wanda maximommy #wanda x you #wanda x reader

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appleblueberry-pie · 5 months

Text

a lil celebratory posts

things r just going easy on me rn and i felt like writing.

obviously american reader x yandere gojo and yandere nanami

it's crazy, because you genuinely tried to blend in, but it's so hard when you have such a....unique bunch running the sorcerer world. everyone felt so different and unique compared to one another, you also wanted to give it a shot, knowing you wouldn't be able to fit into these standards for long. you weren't raised to hide. you couldn't help but break out of your shell and just do your job while doing what felt comfortable. and doing what felt comfortable for you opened the eyes of specifically two people who were incredibly attracted towards you.

Gojo been knew something was up when you weren't spitting on his name at every chance given to you when he flirted with you or when your colleagues insulted him behind his back. You often reciprocated his annoying flirtations with a small smile and a laugh, letting him know that his jokes were cute even though it did absolutely nothing to actually impress you. he was confused for a bit. he thought you liked him back, but you were just being friendly. then when you started dressing more.....freely, it was hard for him to just stay back and only watch.

somehow, you had found a way to dress more sexy without breaking any sort of dress code. the skirt hugged your curves, the shirt accentuating your waist, and, god, your heels and the strut you put to work was pulling him into you like a mouse smelling cheese.

you changed perfumes, a scent that made his dick hard and his smile sharper. you knew what you were doing. you would clock into work and clock out looking as if the breeze never touched a hair on your head. it was impressive how you could work under these harsh circumstances and still look so fucking good. ever since that day, everything about your aura became loud in the best way possible. and you did it so naturally, so well. you complimented his vibe and he felt like it was a crime you weren't in a relationship yet.

Nanami didn't think you could honestly get any better. he felt like no matter how upfront he tried to be with you, his message that he wanted to get across never reached you in the way he desired it to. he felt like you were challenging him. forcing him to challenge himself to break out of his shell that society shoved him in just to get your attention. and he almost did a few times, too. he could tell that you knew that he was trying, as well, because you'd give him that smile that told him keep trying. and it made him flustered every time. he'd give up and fall back into his comfort zone, telling himself he'll have more confidence next time.

you were a package deal he didn't want to give up. especially to the other man across the room waiting for his turn to get at you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere x you #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere nanami #nanami x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere nanami x reader #gojo x reader

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judesmoonbeauty · 5 months

Text

Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Premium End ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.

(Where the hell is she…..?)

Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.

When I opened the door to the warehouse- I found Kate being held tight by the man in the bowler hat.

Kate: Jude…..and Ellis.

Bowler Hat Man: Jude Jazza! Ahaha, I found you!

Bowler Hat Man: While I was looking for you, I found your lover. And you even jumped in yourself.

Bowler Hat Man: It's as if God is giving me a chance for revenge!

(Your eyes look crazy….)

Jude: You're doin' well for someone who's been the subject of so much dangerous research.

Bowler Hat Man: Thanks to you.

The man in front of me seemed to be moving solely on adrenaline.

But, this kind of person is the most troublesome.

Bowler Hat Man: First, I'm going to kill this woman in front of you.

Bowler Hat Man: Then I will kill you, too, as you despair while holding the corpse of your lover.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn, ha-ha-ha. Isn't this the best revenge play ever?

Kate: ……

The gun in the man's hand was pressed firmly against Kate’s temple.

Ellis: …….

I could sense Ellis about to make a move behind me.

Anticipating Ellis’ move, I put strength into my leg to kick the man.

Kate muttered while being held by the man.

Kate: One. What Jude loves other than people's misfortune and money.

Kate: It's to make fools like you, who play with other people's lives, to despair.

Kate: So, Jude won't despair if he sees me dead.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

Jude: ………

Kate: Two. Jude will never, ever forgive anyone who defaults on a contract.

Kate: And scoundrels who play people’s lives. So you'll never get away with it no matter how you try.

(Yeah, I knew I'd heard that line somewhere…..)

FLASHBACK

Jude: One. I like other people's misfortune 'n money, that's true, but the thing I like most.……

Jude: Is to make rich people like ya who think they're safe 'n flaunt their power in the world to despair.

Jude: No matter what kinda weakness I may have in negotiations, I'll never forgive a defaulter.

FLASHBACK ENDS

Kate: Three.

(Oh, those eyes again)

While being held in a tight grip and being shown the overwhelming difference in strength, Kate’s eyes never give up.

She looks straight at me and smiles at me with a radiant glow in her eyes.

"Jude, you understand what I'm trying to do, right?"

It’s frustrating but clear what Kate is trying to do.

Kate: I'm not Jude’s lover, I'm a fairy tale keeper...!

Jude: Haha….

Kate bends down and slips out of the man's arms.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

While the man's arms were bare, I kicked him in the jaw with the tip of my shoe.

Jude: Your mouths empty.

I heard the sound of a crushed jaw, but I didn't care, I kicked the man in the stomach several times.

Bowler Hat Man: ..…...Gah……If you're going to do it, do it to the end of ……….

Jude: Who's gonna listen to ya? I'm not gonna let ya die 'n get comfortable.

Jude: I'll politely send ya back to the lab. If ya want to escape again, be my guest.

Jude: I'll play with ya all the time. Only if ya could keep your human form.

Supervisor: Mr. Jude, everyone! Are you all right?

Jude: You'll know it when ya see it.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn…….

Jude: Oh, that face is intriguin'. Isn’t it a good way to kill time?***

Ellis: You're taking him in. I'll help you.

I watched the supervisor and Ellis take the man away with a glance, then turned my attention to Kate.

Jude: Injuries.

Kate: Not a scratch!

Jude: What are ya, a dog in waiting?

Kate: Oh, maybe you’ll look at me?

Jude: Idiot.

As we left the warehouse, Kate stared at the clock tower in the distance and exhaled in relief.

Kate: Oh, thank goodness. It's not after midnight yet.

Jude: What was so good ‘bout it? Ya lost the game. Well, goodbye.

Kate: Well, wait a minute!

Kate: Jude, this!

Kate held out a note.

Kate: The plan to destroy your trading company is written there, Jude.

Kate: When I was looking for the classified documents that I had promised, I found that man in the bowler hat.

Kate: I thought it was strange since you’d put him in your lab Jude, so I followed him…..

Jude: This was dropped. So, while pickin' it up he got caught.

Jude: Stupid.

(What, you're jumping into the danger yourself?)

Kate: Well, this is comparable to the "confidential document" that you requested Jude, isn’t it?

Kate was right, this note that had fallen out had some troubling things in it, it was enough to deliver on the promise.

Kate: As for getting caught, it's my fault. I'm sorry.

Jude: Ya must be crazy because ya almost got killed because ya were scared.

Being a fairy tale keeper is a job title, and it's not something you should cling to.

Kate: Strangely, I wasn’t scared at all.

Jude: …..Yeah?

Kate: Jude, I knew that you’d be there for me.

Kate: I don't mean to protect me or anything, but you wouldn't make a wrong promise to win, would you?

Kate: If I died, the game’s up in the air.

(Ha. She's a real tough princess.)

Kate: Jude. This may be wishful thinking on my part, but…..

Kate: You tried to get rid of me so I wouldn't get further involved and die.

Kate: That's why you made up an enemy that wasn't there at the end.

(Where did she get that from?)

Kate: But it's too late, I'm sure.

Jude:……too late?

Kate: As I said before, I know the people around you, Jude.

Kate: So it's impossible for me to go back to my life.

Kate told me in one breath as she looked at me.

Kate: Well then, how about we just give up and stay together?

(…..give up, huh?)

If I had to turn back, where on earth would I have started from?

The woman in front of me was smiling like she had chosen the depths of hell herself.

Her face was the best I had ever seen.

(You look like you wouldn't die even if I killed you.......There's really nothing I can do.)

(You and me both.)

I gently wipe the mud from Kate’s cheek with my fingertips.

Kate’s cheeks were clean, and my fingers were dirty instead.

Kate: ….Jude?

Jude: ….hey, why are ya clingin’ onto me so tight?

Kate lowered her eyes for a moment, then smiled like a beauty blooming under the moon in the middle of the night.

Kate: I think there are many reasons. But if I had to sum it up in one word...

Kate: Because I want to. I just want to continue being a fairy tale keeper, and be with you Jude.

Kate: Really, just .... That's all.

Jude: How selfish 'n thick-skinned ya are.

Kate: Wait, so you're going to sign it?

Jude: Continue writin’ fairytales. Once again, your lifespan has been shortened, congrats.

Kate: Oh, thank you very much….!

Kate: I did it. This time I won!

Jude: Why are ya so happy ‘bout shortenin’ your life? Throw away that masochistic perversion and go home.

Kate: Wait a minute. Let's go home together.

Kate’s footsteps follow behind me.

It’s as if they’re making so much noise, that of if I went to the moon, they’d come after me.

(A person's life is as fragile as a candle's flame.)

(Trust and a sense of justice are meaningless in the face of malice and murderous intent.)

(Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to protect them, we can't.)

(I understand that to a rotten degree. I know it so well.)

Even so, I wondered why I couldn't push her away when she asked for someone else and came after me directly.

(It's really disgusting.)

(I know.)

(The most disgusting person is the one who thinks it's okay to be with her.)

The bell that sounded at midnight echoed in the air.

Soaring as if it could reach the moon.

Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement

Kate hereby agrees to continue as a fairy tale keeper.

Suit yourself. I don’t care if ya accidentally die……

-Jude Jazza

A few days after I decided to continue as a fairytale keeper.

Suddenly, I received a letter from Her Majesty the Queen.

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the crown.

***This question - take it with a grain of salt. I have no clue other than he talks about killing time.

[Previous] [Epilogue] [Master List]

#ikemen villains #Ikemen villains translations #ikevil #ikevil translations #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikemen jude #ikemen jude jazza #cybird translations #ikevil spoilers #ikevil jp #ikevil jp spoilers #Jude Jazza POV

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hwanchaesong · 4 months

Text

━⁠☞🍽️ Seventh Course: Picture perfect revenge, the definition of the burnt dessert that is brewing inside your unhinged mind. Well, he deserves it though. 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Jealousy, Jealousy

wc: 816

genre & warnings: angst, non-idol au, cheating, hints of insecurity, reader drinking wine, cursing, lovers to exes, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

You scroll through your phone, sipping on your red wine and laughing to yourself. Giggling like a maniac because the ridiculousness of the situation is truly astounding.

It was a magnificent occasion, one that would normally make people cry but not you.

No, you are built differently.

The discovery that you dug made you so happy you think you're about to burst in excitement.

Because finally, fucking finally! Freedom is nigh and clean air will finally clear your black lungs.

You gaze at the clock, the man that you are waiting for will be home soon, and you are so fucking ready for a confrontation.

Soon enough, your boyfriend enters your shared apartment, jumping a little when he sees your figure in the shadows, indifferently sitting there with a menacing expression.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he frowned when you replied with a scoff, slowly walking in your direction.

The entire living room is dark, the only source of light is the one from the hallway near your bedroom. It gives an ominous vibe in the atmosphere, exactly what you want to exude.

"Y/N, seriously, I don't have time for this. I j-"

You rolled your eyes at his audacity, shoving your phone in his face so he can gawk at the evidence of his betrayal.

He is nothing but a mere asshole in the entirety of this relationship, so thank the heavens for giving you a reason to leave.

Ever since he entered your life, his presence always gave you the sinking feeling of insecurity.

Paranoia at its finest, you could say.

It was all good at first. You can even say with confidence that he was the perfect boyfriend. He makes you feel like you're on top of the world, the only girl that he loves, the happiest person on earth.

But who knows what will happen, right?

His sublime image is merely a performance for you to enjoy and hate later on, especially when you start seeing the signs.

Going home to you smelling like a girl's perfume. Lipstick stain on the collar of his polo shirt. Being secretive on whatever is in his phone.

"Must be your imagination, baby."

"Oh this? This is nothing. I'll wash it later."

"Listen, privacy is also an important aspect of a relationship."

Fuck that privacy. You merely wanted to play games on his phone because waiting in line in his favorite restaurant bore you to death. Must he be so stingy?

Stingy because the shit excuse of a man was hiding something.

You have been tolerating his bland show for a while now, might as well give him a tip for giving you entertainment despite it not being worth your time.

"Tell me I'm crazy now." you smirk, victorious in the battle where you have been wounded far too many times to the point that you can't even bear to look in the mirror without wanting to vomit.

You've had enough comparing yourself to the girls that he hangs out with.

Girls that are way skinnier, comfortable in showing too much skin, wear make up like it's an extension of their body.

Then you saw this very suspicious lady that seemed to be a bit closer to your boyfriend than the others.

You can't help but be jealous of her pretty face, lavish lifestyle, and it seems like her friends love her so much.

But hey, you may be a tad bit insecure but you ain't a raging loser, you are ready to let your inner sherlock holmes out and prove a point.

"What was it again? You are not cheating and it's just all in my head?" here you are, showing him the proof of your hard work and catching him red handed.

Did he really think that you won't see him and that girl making-out in a photo that was posted by his friend a week ago.

No matter how pixelated it was or even if your eyesight is bad, you will definitely see it.

"Y/N, that is not what you think." he tried to explain, and you do not understand the reason for his panic as you confidently push him out of the flat.

"Wooyoung, I've seen, heard and smelled enough. I think it's time for you to shut the fuck up." you give him a fake smile, finally giving him a harsh strike on his chest that got him stumbling in the front of the apartment.

"Please, hear me out." he begs but no, your heart is not made out of cotton to listen to him.

Whatever befalls him, he deserves it.

"Go spend the night with your bitch and come back here tomorrow to gather your belongings while I'm at work. Goodbye."

You shut the door in his face, not paying attention to his knocks and pleas.

Finally, some peace and quiet in your mind, heart and soul.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

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yandereshingeki · 1 year

Text

Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

previous • next

Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend.

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had.

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms.

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?”

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation.

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had.

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning.

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice.

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips.

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free.

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!”

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering, “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you.

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose.

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them.

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back.

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever! Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?”

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent.

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart.

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it.

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening.

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much.

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt.

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.”

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room.

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over.

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu.

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears.

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often.

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest.

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.”

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

“Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax.

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul.

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved.

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.”

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it.

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips.

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil.

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.”

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch.

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare.

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?”

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you.

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand.

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason.

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing.

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again.

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning.

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do.

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat.

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race.

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst.

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines.

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too.

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat.

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again.

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it.

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling.

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time.

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you.

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing.

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation.

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling.

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice.

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?”

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth.

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?”

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.”

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

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angelskills · 7 months

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can we please have a college au! Suguru who takes interest in a girl from a different department and he keeps trying to find her and talk more but she doesnt let it? Or disappears for weeks together untul he next sees her?

a/n: omg this is so creative?! i haven't tried writing a suguru fanfic ever, so this will be a challenge, and i love challenges :D, thank you so much for the request! if you want something else, pls lmk, also thank you sm for 200+ likes on my last post, also, i kind of switch the names between geto and suguru, and gojo and satoru. this may not be the best fanfic but if you want something else, pls pls request, i want to write something that you actually want :)) !

Out of Reach

warnings: pw/p(p0rn with plot), tipsy sex, he doesnt pull out (birth control dw), clit stimulation, p in v, vaginal fingering

credits: @hopelesslygaysstuff for the 18+ header

characters: you, Shoko, gojo, geto,

intro: geto notices you for the first time in the library while he is with his friends

Geto had his eyes on you for a long, long time. But, you never noticed. He always tried to find you around campus and talk to you. But, he never could. Geto first noticed you at the library when he was with Gojo. You happened to be with Shoko, who is one of his close friends.

Something about you really stood out to him. He never really knew why, but he took an interest in you. He is lazy, but he would chase you around the campus to try and catch up to you, but it never really worked out. You both had different majors, meaning you would be in different departments. He majored in humanities while you majored in computer science.

Geto thought about you all day long, he didn't want to but couldn't stop thinking about you. You were pretty, with a cute smile, and you were smart. How did Geto know? Well, he may or may not have texted Shoko about you. He lays in bed every night, hoping to get the chance to talk to you one day.

That man was so happy. He actually started smiling when Shoko told him you would be at Gojo's party in his apartment. He was excited to finally be able to have a proper conversation with you that doesn't have him running around campus, slipping like 10 times to catch up to you. Who knows why he was so crazy about you?

It was finally Friday night. Geto always hangs out at Gojo's house and helps prepare the drinks and food whenever there is a party. Geto was yapping on and on about you and how it's so hard to talk to you as he was laying out the plastic plates on the table and ordering the food. Gojo was so annoyed with that man, "Just get her number and text her, dude."

Geto seems like an overall confident person, but when it came to you, he was nervous, he didn't wanna make a weird first impression. "You don't get it." He sighed, sitting on the sofa, "You think she might like me?"

"No, fuck no." Gojo laughed, "You're scared to even approach her, pussy."

"I try to catch up to her."

"Try harder."

Geto rolled his eyes and cussed under his breath. But, it was the truth. He was trying, of course. But whenever he caught up to you, he would chicken out and just, not.

Gojo heard a knock on his door. They both looked at each other and looked at the clock, it wasn't time for the party yet.

Well, guess it was.

He opened the door and saw a bunch of his classmates and friends just come in with bottles of vodka and tequila. Screaming and singing. More and more people came in. You could say almost the entirety of the college students were there, except you and Shoko. G

Geto was in a corner while Gojo had girls all over him. He kept on texting Shoko and spamming her to get here faster.

Meanwhile you and Shoko...

"Hurry up, Y/N, please!" Shoko whined, lying down on the couch, replying to Geto's text.

"Sorry, wait!" You yelled from the bathroom, applying mascara on your lashes.

You wore a cheetah print top with flared jeans and a rhinestone belt. You brushed your hair, thinking about the party, obviously you know Gojo, he's really popular afterall. He was always with this guy. Tall, muscular, and he looked tired all the time. You finally finished getting ready, putting on your necklace and earrings and stepped out of the bathroom.

Shoko complimented you and you guys took a few pictures together. You both put on your shoes and legit rushed out. Trying to find a cab to get to Gojo's place. You were excited, because this was your first ever party, especially in college. Even though you're a sophomore, you avoided parties a lot because you focused on your grades too much. After becoming friends with Shoko, you let loose a bit and finally agreed to go to a party.

Shoko was talking about Geto as you both got in the cab and you couldn't recognize his name. She showed you a picture and you finally realized that was the Geto Shoko was always talking about. You couldn't even deny it, that man was fine, but you didn't say anything.

After a while of asking Shoko for more pictures of Geto and staring at his pictures as if he were the most beautiful man ever, you finally reached Gojo's place. You and Shoko got out of the car, and you were out here taking deep breaths because you were nervous about the party. As you both walked towards Gojo's door, Shoko was reassuring you that everything would be fine and parties weren't that big of a deal.

The door was open, damn. That man was really fearless.

You walked in with Shoko, astounded by how big Gojo's apartment really was. Geto noticed you and Shoko, letting out a sigh of relief because truly, he was worried sick thinking YOU(not Shoko) got in an accident and died. He finished his glass of beer and started walking towards you. Then, Shoko dragged you off to somewhere else, giving you a tour of Gojo's apartment. Geto clenched his fists, muttering out a bunch of fuck you's to Shoko.

Geto finally managed to catch up to you and Shoko, finding you guys hanging with Satoru. You looked at Geto, finally realizing that man was even finer in real life. You gave him a warm smile, before turning back to Gojo.

Geto's face nearly turned red. Did you just smile at him? He couldn't believe it.

"Hear me out, let's play beer pong." Satoru smirked, setting up the plastic cups. It was an upside-down triangle laid on the table.

You looked at Shoko, nodded, and helped pour the beer into the plastic.

You guys played beer pong for a while, switching some of the cups with beer and then tequila and vodka.

Satoru and Shoko were drunk as fuck and out like a light, you and Geto were only a bit tipsy because you both were actually good at the game and meanwhile, Gojo and Shoko sucked ass with their angles.

It was like, 3 a.m., and Satoru and Shoko were still out. You and Geto were sitting on the couch, talking and he confessed about how he always chased you around campus and tried to talk to you, but he always chickened out. You laughed at that, but on the inside, you were screaming. A man, like him, took an interest, in YOU? You talked about how you kept begging Shoko for pictures of him because you thought he was so cute.

There was some tension between you two. You both basically just confessed your feelings at this point. You laughed it out, trying your best not to create awkwardness between you two.

But, he didn't care. Whether it was awkward or not, all he cared was being there with you. Just you being present makes him happy.

He put his hand on your cheek, getting closer to your face, making sure you're comfortable before pulling you into a deep kiss.

You didn't know how it got to this point. From you and Geto laughing at each other, to a bit of making out, and then to you being carried to the guest bed.

He placed you on the bed gently, pulling you into a kiss as his fingers ran down your chest to your waistband, slowly pulling your jeans off. Your heart was beating out of your chest. All of this happened in a flash. He slid your top up so your bra would be exposed. You could feel the dampness in your panties from just seeing him like this. He kissed down your neck to your stomach. His hand slid under your panties, slowly rubbing small circles on your clit. You bucked your hips, trying to squirm away but his hand on your waist kept you in place.

He inserted a finger inside you, catching you off guard. You arched your back slightly, your body squirming as you let out noises. To him, your voice was like a melody, let alone noises. He wanted to get more out of you. He slid another finger in, your wetness making it easier for him. His fingers were so thick, you were almost scared about what his dick would feel like. His fingers curled right against your g-spot, you let out a loud moan, your toes curling as you gripped his shoulder, "S-suguru..." you whimpered. He swore he almost came in his pants after hearing you whimper his name like that. He pulled out his fingers, sliding your panties off.

He inserted his fingers right back inside of your hole. Stretching you out to make you prepared. You gulped as you shut your eyes, moaning as his fingers hit your sweet spot every time he pulled his fingers in and out. He unzipped his pants with his free hand, pulling down his boxers and lining his member to your entrance.

You almost screamed when you saw how long it was. You weren't even sure if it could fit or not. "Say the safeword when you want me to stop, green." He said as he slid his length inside of you, trying his best to be gentle but your pussy felt so good around his dick, he had to hold himself back from cumming right there.

You moaned, "Hngh... s-suguru... please...". He looked you in the eyes, "Please what?" He smirked, his fingers crawled to your clit.

You buried your head in his shoulder, "S-start moving, please." you gulped, you felt so full you thought you would just pass out if he started moving. From this moment on, he loved seeing you be shy in bed, he thought it was so cute especially since it was, you.

His hand grabbed your waist to keep you in place as he started thrusting inside of you. His free hand rubbed small fast circles on your clit, making your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure. His dick hitting your sweet spot and him rubbing your clit at the same time.

"T-too much, too much!" You whined, throwing your back as you felt your orgasm coming. Your hands wrapped around Suguru's neck. It was almost impossible to keep yourself quiet and you were almost screaming but he wasn't complaining at all.

Within minutes, you milked his cock, creating a ring around it. Your pussy clenched around Suguru's cock, "H-holy shit", he groaned. Your toes curled as he sped up his pace, his thick cock kissing your cervix with each thrusts. After a few moments, he filled you with his cum to the brim, painting your walls white as thick ropes of cum spurted out.

He pulled out as he collapsed onto you, but making sure he doesn't put all of his weight. You put your hand on his cheek, smiling before giving him a kiss.

After a few moments, he picked you up to carry you to the shower, helping you clean up.

The very next day, you couldn't even walk.

#jujutsu kaisen #smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #geto #jjk smut #satoru gojo #jujutsu satoru #shoko ieiri #jujutsu shoko

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sofiareidings · 1 year

Text

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Summary: At the New Year's party at Rossi's you have a little to much to drink and Spencer has to take you home. What will happen when the clock strikes midnight though?

A/N: Stated in the title but I'm also stating it now, this one-shot does mention alcohol. Also, thank you so much for all the love on yesterday's post! I'm going to try and post a story everyday until I start school, (September 6th) once I get back into the rhythm of school I'll try and make a posting schedule.

Word Count: 0.9k

Song Suggestions: Pacific - Sleeping At Last

Rossi had invited the entire team over for a New Years party. It had been a tough year, and everyone needed it. You spent the evening having fun, talking, dancing, and drinking.

Maybe a little too much drinking. It was thirty minutes to midnight and Garcia had finally cut you off. “I love you sweetie, but you’re sticking to water for the rest of the night.” You sighed at her comment and decided the best idea would be to vent about it to someone else.

“…and now she’s only giving me water!” You slumped back in the chair while Spencer just shook his head. He was completely sober that night and could tell how drunk you were. He knew it was time for you to go home. He stood up, putting a hand out for you to grab.

“Come on, it’s time to go home.” Taking his hand you groan and reluctantly grab your stuff while mumbling to yourself about the injustice. Once you got to Spencer’s car you turned on his radio, the first channel was a strange classical music channel and immediately changed. The next channel was counting down to midnight while playing what you assumed was the top 100.

Rossi’s mansion wasn’t far from your apartment complex and Spencer had gotten there in less than ten minutes. “Fifteen minutes till midnight! I wonder who my Near Year’s kiss will be. This next song is…” When the song started you stopped listening and turned to Spencer.

“I don’t want to be alone at midnight, can we stay here until then please?” The sentence came out a lot sadder than you expected. “And then if you’re here at midnight…I can have a New Year’s kiss.”

“Y/N…you’re drunk.” His face was red, you were drunk. He knew that but, the quote, ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ was all he could think of. He didn’t want to take advantage of the state you were in and didn’t dare try to make any advances. “We can stay here until midnight.”

“Only ten minutes until midnight folks! Here’s number two on…”

You were at the emotional stage of drunkenness, it was quite evident by the way you cried a little while talking. “You’re so cute, Spence. Whenever you make that little confused face when I talk about pop culture I can’t help but die inside because you look so pretty. Like a lost puppy…and when you wave instead of shaking someone's hand because shaking hands are gross or whatever I just melt. And everytime you wear your glasses I can’t focus on anything other than your cuteness…”

He was blushing hard but was still making sure not to take anything serious. “T-thanks Y/N, I really appreciate that…” His sentence trailed off as he watched your hand grab onto his arm and stay there. The butterflies were going crazy and he knew he needed to get out of here. “Why don’t I take you up to your apartment? I’ll stay till midnight but I want to make sure you make it the full way home.”

“That’s such a good idea, why didn’t I think of it!” You groaned while going to open the car door. The handle was jammed, when Spencer noticed he got out of the car leaving you alone in the car for a second.

“Six minutes until midnight! Here is the last song of the night folks…”

The door opened and there he stood, holding your bag and jacket waiting to take you upstairs. Opening the front door of the building you looked at your phone clock.

“11:57” You stated while he hit the elevator button. While waiting you managed to make your way to the live broadcast of the ball drop in New York.

“We are two minutes and fifteen seconds away from midnight!”

The elevator opened and you hit the button to take you to the third floor.

“Would you look at that, only a minute and twenty seconds left everyone.”

Spencer grabbed your hand and walked you towards your apartment while you listened to the announcer blasting from your phone.

“Thirty seconds!”

A loud countdown started on your phone while Spencer looked for your house key in your bag. You watched him try every key.

“Ten!”

You hear a little click and he starts turning the key.

“Nine!”

The key gets stuck in place.

“Eight!”

He jimmies with the key.

Seven!”

The lock finally opens.

“Six!”

The door opens and you walk in.

“Five!”

You lean against the wall while Spencer shuts the door.

“Four!”

He turns your hallway light on.

“Three!”

You hear the sound of your purse hitting the table.

“Two!”

Spencer walks back over to you, preparing to say goodnight after the countdown.

“One!”

In a moment of drunken boldness you wrap your hands around his neck and press your lips against his. He’s shocked and stumbles back a little, not sure what to do. You can feel his arm wrap around your waist tightly. After a couple seconds you let go and stagger backwards smiling. “Happy New Year’s.”

“Yeah, happy New Year’s…” He’s still in shock but makes sure that you make it to bed before leaving.

‘Drunk words are sober thoughts.’

Walking back down to the parking lot his mind is full of so many different thoughts. He’s not sure how seriously he should take your advances. What if you won’t remember them in the morning? What if it isn’t what you really feel? The final thought, one that had been coming back to him all night.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fandom #criminal minds fandom #fanfic #bau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #romance #sofiareidings

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regretmedaisy · 11 months

Text

i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded.

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.”

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her.

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat.

She quickly hid the message in her purse and he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out.

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him.

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up.

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess.

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so.

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him.

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage.

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy?

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth.

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt.

Merlin, it was finally happening.

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features.

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her.

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart.

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back.

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped.

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave.

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question.

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her.

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked.

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement.

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands.

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag.

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her.

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. ��Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them.

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before.

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her.

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae.

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it.

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away.

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple.

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis.

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again.

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face.

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for.

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe.

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table.

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper.

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee.

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.”

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.”

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving.

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

#tom riddle x fmc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter #hp fanfic #tom riddle x oc

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