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always-just-red · 5 months ago

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hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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anas-aspiration · 13 days ago

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Silence & the bedroom.

Summary: toxic!ellie x reader, You recently decided to keep distance from your situationship because of how she treated you. Ellie uses the fact that you’re heartbroken to get into your pants and it works.

Warnings: dildo (r!receiving), oral (r! Receiving), masturbation (e!receiving), making out, manipulation from ellie, kind of virginity loss (r!receiving) ellie kinda rough.

Taglist hehe: @clairoscharm

"You know she doesn't love you, right?" Ellie said, looking deep into your eyes.

You became silent. She said it so confidently it was almost like you're the weird one for thinking it was a bold thing to ask. Her hand lay on your thigh, drawing small shapes around your soft skin anticipating your answer. Even though you both had been best friends for years, it had still been the first time Ellie said anything of that nature to you.

"Um, well..." you sank further into the bed, searching your mind for a way to answer her question, because the truth is that you really don't know.

"It's okay..It's hard when someone treats you like that." She spoke softly, putting her hand up to your cheek.

"Yeah, it fucking sucked. Who the fuck leaves someone in the dark like that?” You began tearing up. “I felt like nothing.”

“Babe, you are not nothing. I love you.” She said, taking your face in both hands.

“I love you too Ellie.” Your expression lifted.

There was a quiet moment filled with tension between the two of you. With every second passed you both inched closer to each other, without a word exchanged, and your lips locked.

Her hands fell from your face down to your sides. She was moving quickly. The kiss deepened and she took your hand in hers leading it to your shorts which was her way of telling you to take them off. You backed out of the kiss, hands still frozen in place.

“What are we doing?” You whispered.

“You need this baby. Don’t you want to feel loved?”

Your eyes gave a blank expression, but you nodded. Time blurred in your dazed little head. The only things you were aware of now were Ellies hands on you and the ache in your heart, and she could tell because of the way your eyelids drooped at each lick of her tongue that you were hers now.

“Ellie..” You moaned out while arching your back into her.

“I know baby..” she mumbled softly between your thighs. She knew everything, about you, about this situation, she held the cards. She was well aware that you never gotten exactly this far with anyone else. You never liked anyone enough to bother. “Mm baby?”

You lifted your head off the pillows to look at her, your expression turning euphoric at the sight of her below you continuing to work at you between words.

“Do you think you can take a little more?“ She looked at you with puppy dog eyes. “For me?”

“Yes yes. Please.” You pleaded.

She took her fingers out of you, causing your breath to become shallow. She quickly returned from her closet with a pink dido. She tapped your lips twice.

“Open.”

You complied.

She didn’t waste a second teasing or even preparing you before she went as far into your throat as she could. She did give you a second to breathe after this but then continued at a steady pace, earning sweet gagging sounds from you. She slipped a hand into her pajama pants so swiftly it almost didn’t catch your attention. You could already hear how wet she was, had you wondering how long she had this planned. The whole night?

She finally let you breathe, dragging the dildo down past your stomach and to your slit. Your heart was racing, but you kept a brave face without struggle.

You winced as she brought it inside of you yet adjusted to the stretch in seconds. It wasn’t long before she found a rhythm pumping her fingers into herself while also handling you.

“Fuck, you’re ughh- so beautiful like this.” She groaned above you.

All you could do was stare up at her, yearning for something you were already receiving. It felt like something was missing. She was sitting with one leg under the other, hand still pumping underneath her boxers, and on her face she wore this expression telling you she was close. She began bucking into her palm, causing you to meet her pace with your hips.

“I’m close..” you mumbled.

She didn’t respond, looking like she wasn’t even acknowledging your presence rather trying to chase her high. With a fee more pumps, she Let out a lengthy moan, pushing the dildo far as she could into you by reflex, and causing you to come with her. There was a few moments of heavy breathing between the two of you, and that aching feeling in your heart disappeared. The feeling had gradually faded, and as you opened your eyes, you saw Ellie avoiding your gaze, regret etched across her face. Your heart sank even deeper than it had been before.

A/n! I decided to make it just toxic ellie instead of toxic ex ellie. Also feel like this wasn’t toxic enough for some people cause other drabbles be literally insaneee, but whatever. Hope you liked it😊 and if you have any ideas request them I will like 99% do them and quick.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #dividers by v6que #toxic ellie

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mapis-putellas · 3 months ago

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𝑨 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up. Panic attacks. I think that’s it.

Summary: Your time at Barça comes to an end.

Notes: I tried to add a little more detail to my writing, so I hope it turned out somewhat decent <3

[prompt list]

A lot of people have told her what it was like to truly be in love. To feel that spark, that infatuation and instant connection that has you feeling weak at the knees. But Alexia hadn't truly known what love was until she'd met you. Like, true, fulfilling, genuine love that was both so exciting and terrifying it felt like falling off a cliff with no idea how high it is or what was at the bottom.

You came into her life unexpectedly, a ray of sunshine; always shining bright and radiating both warmth and happiness wherever you went. You make everyone around you feel good without even trying, a trait most people in this world lacked due to no fault of their own. Wherever she turned, you were there, the smile on your face so genuine it was hard not to smile back.

She doesn’t quite know how to put into words just how much she loves you, but if she has to try, it was like being on the brink of something extraordinary every single waking moment. You make her feel adored and valued on the days where she can't even stand herself. You make her feel cherished, important, like the ground beneath her wouldn't cave in at any second.

It was like a rollercoaster ride all of the time. Some days were both thrilling and exciting, and some days it was both dizzying and terrifying. Sometimes it was so overwhelming she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. What was was sure of though is she wouldn't want to do any of it by herself. You were her everything, and she was yours, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in the way of that. Including the fact you were moving half way across the country to join Arsenal.

It had been on the first of the month that you'd told her. You had been quiet and withdrawn for the entirety of the day, only responding to her futile attempts at conversation with quiet hums and one word answers.

Alexia hadn't quite known what to do when you'd exited the car with a quiet request for some space. You barely even give her a chance to respond, grabbing your things from the trunk before disappearing into the apartment building. Alexia had waited what she'd thought was a good amount of time before making her way inside too, footsteps hesitant and a deep sense of unease filling her stomach. The apartment door was closed, just as she'd thought it would be, and she does everything possible to swallow back the inevitable tightness in her throat as she unlocks the door and makes her way inside.

As she sets down her things, she realises everything was so unnervingly quiet she could hear the sound of her own breath. It was loud, quick, so clearly full of anticipation she pauses for a second to get herself together. It wasn't like her to be so unsure of herself, not when she was around you. Not in the comfort of her own home where it had taken months for her to fully accept the fact that no matter what mood she was in or how bad her day had gone you'd always welcome her inside with open arms.

Even when you'd had a bad day you were always willing to be around her. Your smile, whilst a little sad, still so genuine it made her thank whoever was above for bringing you into her life. Not only were you always willing to put everybody above yourself, you did so without consideration of your own feelings.

Perhaps that was why the sense of impending dread was unlike nothing she'd ever felt before, because not once in this relationship had you ever pushed her away. Been so quiet and so unwilling to talk.

Accepting your need for space, she walks past the closed bedroom door and makes her way through to the kitchen. She stands in the middle of the room for a few unsure seconds before deciding to make a start on dinner. If you won’t talk to her, the least she could do was feed you. You always love her cooking no matter what she makes, and she hopes the comfort of a home cooked meal would help ease whatever upset you were feeling.

In the bedroom, you were laid on Alexia's side of the bed, your body curled up small and your head buried into her pillow. It was soaked with tears, the material uncomfortably sticking to the skin of your cheek.

You didn’t think the word pain quite gives the way you were feeling justice. Oh no. It quite literally felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest before trampling all over it and shoving it back in. You were leaving Barcelona. Leaving Alexia. The word pain couldn't even begin to describe just how absolutely devastated you felt.

The second you had found out they weren't signing you for another season, it was as though everything around you had turned fuzzy, almost like the feeling you get when your leg falls asleep. An emptiness had suddenly filled you and it was so profound it made your chest physically ache. You hadn't heard a single world Jona after the fact. It was as though your world had stopped and in a way, it had. Your life in Barca, with Alexia, was no longer, and you only had your self to blame.

You should have been better. Scored more. Not gotten so many yellow cards. Done something, anything, so they would like you better and want you to stay. And maybe had they told you before the transfer window had closed, you could have at least tried to change their minds. But they hadn't. They'd kept it to themselves until the last possible second and because of that, there was now absolutely nothing you could do to change it.

You were leaving, and you had no idea just how you were going to tell Alexia without tearing your heart completely in two. You could hear her, if you really focused. The sound of ceramic dishes hitting the table and the soft thuds of her feet as she walks. She was cooking dinner, just as she does most nights after you get home from training if you don't opt to order in.

Most nights, you'd been in the kitchen with her. Sometimes sat on the counter and sometimes stood behind her holding her body to your own. You'd steal small morsels of food of whatever she'd decided to make that day and you'd pout playfully when she'd scold you for doing so. You could only imagine just how clueless she feels in there by herself, not knowing what was wrong or how to help. It makes a part of you want to go sit with her, just for the company, but the thought of seeing that beautiful, oblivious face, so unaware of the news you held simply made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

You can’t face her. Not yet. Not ever if given the choice but that simply wasn't an option. Telling her was inevitable, and you just had to accept the fact she might hate you for it despite it being completely out of your control.

You have no idea just how long you end up laying here for before you hear the sound of two gentle knocks against your bedroom door. They were barely audible, and you take that as an almost cruel opportunity to pretend you hadn't heard them. The door opens anyway, the sound of it creaking a deathly loud noise in comparison to the quietness of the room.

"Amor?" Her voice was a quiet, tentative whisper sounding so unsure it has you screwing your eyes so tightly shut in a futile effort to prevent anymore tears from falling. "Amor," the same soft footsteps you'd heard earlier make their way closer to the bed. "I made you dinner."

Silence.

Alexia softly clears her throat. "It is Pasta. Your favourite." She trails off hopefully, and it takes everything in you to remain still. You can’t face her. Not yet. You weren't ready.

Alexia wrings her hands nervously as she takes another small step closer to the bed. "I..." she hesitates, scratching the inside of her wrist. "I do not know what happened. Will you please talk to me?"

More silence, and you'd never hated yourself more.

"I do not know what to do" Her voice audibly trembles making the tightness in your throat physically impossible to swallow back. You could feel your resolve wavering. Just because you couldn't tell her what was wrong right this second didn't mean you can't let her sooth you, right?

"Bebé?"

With a deep, shuddering breath, you use every ounce of strength within you to sit yourself up and face her. She was standing just a few feet away from the bed, toes scrunching and un-scrunching anxiously against the carpet. Her hands were clasped tightly around her shirt, wrinkling the material as she squeezes and twists.

But what breaks your heart the most was the wetness staining her cheeks. She was crying. Crying because of you. Because you were too much of a wimp to simply tell her what was wrong. The guilt you were already feeling amplifies by a thousand, and you were forced look away from her before you well and truly broke.

"Amor?" She whispers unsurely, and you sniffle softly as you wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before taking a deep breath. It was a futile effort at composing yourself, but you simply had nothing else left in you.

"Will you-"

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I can't." you cut her off, and Alexia swallows heavily before nodding her head. The overwhelming sense of dread that had once faded makes an abrupt reappearance at your words, but she tries desperately not to let it show. If she pushed, you'd push back harder, and she'd never figure out what was going on.

"Okay." She accepts in a quiet whisper, unwilling to do anything that might upset you further.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay?"

She nods.

"Okay." You whisper with a quiet breath of relief.

"Will you come eat?" She asks hopefully after a few seconds of silence. "I made your favourite."

The thought of food alone made you feel so incredibly nauseous you were forced to swallow back a different kind of tightness in the back of your throat. It pains you to reject her again, but you just couldn't do it. Not without ending this already horrible day with your head stuck in the toilet.

You shake your head. "Ale, I'm not-”

"Just a few bites?" She pleads quietly, hesitantly. "For me?" She holds out her hand.

You look up at her. You take in her wet cheeks, the unsure body language and the trembling fingers. You'd put her through the wringer tonight without even trying, and it was clear to see she was desperate for some sort of normality. Despite everything in you screaming to say no, you find yourself standing up and taking her hand. You were barely on your feet for two seconds before she envelopes you completely in her arms, her chest flush against your own as your feet hang from the floor.

Your bottom lip wobbles as she buries her head against your neck, your head dropping to rest heavily against her shoulder. It takes you a few moments, but your arms do eventually find themselves wrapping securely around her shoulders. At the feeling of you returning the embrace, she drops an arm from around your waist and hooks it beneath your behind, bouncing you up slightly so your legs cold wrap around her waist.

"I am sorry." She whispers, the words taking a few moments to fully register in your grief ridden mind. The second they do, you lift your head off of her shoulder and reach your trembling hands up to coax her face away from your neck. You were glad to see she wasn't crying again, but you could tell by the shininess in her eyes that it was taking everything in her to hold the tears back.

"No," you shake your head, cupping her cheeks and wiping the pads of your thumbs to rid them of their wetness. Alexia blinks, and you catch the first tear that escapes before it could fall. "No," you repeat. "You don't have to be sorry. You've done absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

Alexia swallows.

"It's..." the tears you'd been trying to desperately to hold back break free, and you make no effort to wipe them away. "I'm not ready to talk yet, and I'm so, so sorry that means you're being kept in the dark. I just need...a few hours. Just a few hours to process and then we'll talk, okay? I promise."

Alexia looks even more terrified as her grip loosens just slightly. "Are you...are you bre-"

"No." You're aware of how panicked you sound, but you needed the message to get through to her before she could fully mistake her assumptions for the truth. "No. I'm not. Not now. Not ever. I could never...no."

Her grip tightens around you again, and you let out a relieved sounding sob as you fall limp against her. You feel one of her hands lift to rest against the back of your head, and for a second, you allow to yourself to break; for her to comfort you, because after hearing what you had to say, it could be the last time she ever does so.

Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt more useless in her entire life as she holds you close, her throat burning, threatening the onslaught of tears. Something serious was going on. There has to be. She's never seen you this upset before, not even when you'd done your acl just a few months after she'd done hers. You'd been upset then sure, but you'd never shed more than a single tear in the year it had taken to get back on the pitch, and that year had been hell for both of you.

Tightening her grip around you, she turns in place and makes her way through to the kitchen. The two plates of pasta were just as she'd left them, though she suspected they'd long gone cold now. Knowing you wouldn't be able to eat despite saying that you would try and not particularly caring about her own meal, she passes the kitchen table and makes her way over to one of the free spaces left on the countertop.

She purposely ignores the burning in her arms as she eases you down and settles herself between your legs, feeling the way your crossed feet settle against her backside as her arms secure themselves tightly around your back. You were still in her arms, thankfully no longer crying if the lack of tears against her neck was anything to go by. It allows Alexia to relax momentarily for she knows things would sure turn south once you reveal what was making you so upset.

You pull away a few moments later, sniffling softly as Alexia tenderly cups your cheeks to wipe away the wetness staining them. You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering shut when she leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I love you." She murmurs against the warm skin, and you're forced to once again swallow back your emotions as you take her wrists and press a soft kiss to the inside of them both.

"I love you." The unsteadiness of your voice was obvious, and you're grateful when Alexia makes no attempt at pointing it out. She leans in and kisses you, tasting the saltiness of your tears, and your hands desperately cup her face, not allowing her to pull away. Alexia's hands grasp your sides as she deepens the kiss just slightly, feeling the soft exhale you breath out through your nose against her skin. When you pull away, your eyes were closed, and Alexia takes this as her chance to really take you in.

Your expression gives absolutely nothing away. Nothing at all. Her gaze was still on you when your eyes finally open, brown irises full of an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. You tilt your head to the side, a silent question to which she nods in response to. Seconds later, the look in her eyes changes. Now, they were light, hopeful, willing for you to open up and trust her and god did you so badly want to.

"I am going to make you a smoothie." She breaks the silence, her hands giving your thighs a soothing squeeze as she steps out of your hold and makes her way over to your refrigerator. You watch her retreating figure as you let out a soft sigh. You still didn’t think you could stomach anything, but the thought of a smoothie was admittedly more appetising than cold pasta. You felt a little bad that the meal she’d cooked you had gone to waste, but seeing as though Alexia doesn't mind, you try not to either.

Alexia's eyes skim the contents for a few moments before she pulls out a few different fruits she knew were your favourite. She sets them down onto the counter next to you before heading to the sink and thoroughly washing her hands, allowing the water to run a little hotter than appropriate in a futile effort at feeling something other than complete and utter dread.

It doesn't work, and as she dries her hands, she wonders just how much longer she would be able to last before she inevitably breaks and begs for you to tell her what was going on. When she'd torn her acl, the fear she'd felt about not being able to play the sport she loved more than anything else in this world pained her more than she could even begin to explain. But the fear of losing you was a tenfold to that. Because yes, football was her world, but you were her entire universe so feeling this dread, this uncertainty and uneasiness was so, so much worse.

Softly clearing her throat, she forces a smile into her face and makes her way back over to you. You were in the exact same position, though now you were staring at her with pity. It makes her bristle just slightly, but she forces herself not to react as she grabs the blender out of the cupboard and plugs it into the wall.

The process of making both smoothies was done in silence. Alexia doesn't say a word, and neither do you. Soon, Alexia was back between your legs, a small glass in her hand that held the contents of your smoothie. You don't let yourself hesitate as you gently take it from her, bringing it to your lips for cautious sip. When it doesn't seem as though your stomach would reject it, you allow yourself a proper mouthful, a hum of content falling from your lips as you swallow.

"Good?" Alexia murmurs as her hands retake their place on each of your thighs, squeezing the flesh softly before her palms begin tracing gentle circles against the soft skin. You nod your head, holding the glass up to her lips despite the fact she had her own smoothie just next to you. The blonde smiles as she allows you to feed her, swallowing with a hum of content similar to your own.

You take turns in sipping both the smoothies until they were gone, Alexia setting the glasses into the sink to be washed later before scooping you back up into her arms. You welcome the closeness by allowing her to carry you through to the living room without complaint, her larger frame beneath your own as she settles comfortably on the couch. She says nothing as she slips her hands beneath your shirt to rest on the small of your back, the tips of her pinkies tracing over the dimples at the bottom of your spine, but you can tell by the look in her eyes alone that there was so much she wants to say.

It had barely even been an hour since she'd brought you out of your room, and whilst you still weren't ready to talk, you knew leaving her in the dark for any longer would be unnecessarily cruel. Unsure on whether or not she'd even want you near her when you found the courage to reveal the news, you slip off of her lap and perch on the edge of the coffee table instead, making a futile effort at avoiding eye contact as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands off on your shorts.

You hear Alexia shift forward slightly until her knees brush against your own, her hands reaching forward to rest on either of your thighs. Your own hands circle her wrists, feeling the steady, consistent pounding of her pulse beneath the tips of your fingers. She doesn't force you to talk. She simply sits and waits, her presence alone a major comfort in a moment so anxiety inducing you felt as though you were only seconds away from throwing up.

A single drop of grief wells up in the corner of your eye as you swallow heavily, the small droplet of salty water streaming down your cheek leaving a tickling sensation in its wake. The blonde opposite you remains silent, but her hands slip down to the skin behind your knees, tugging them a little firmer against her own. Knowing it was now or never, you force yourself to make eye contact.

"I'm leaving Barça." Your voice was emotionless.

Alexia blinks as her hands freeze mid stroke against your thighs. "Qué?”

You swallow. "They didn't resign me for another season. I'm moving to Arsenal." The words felt like vomit on your tongue.

Alexia could do no more than stare as she feels the room begin to tilt around her, every sound becoming no more than a muffled echo. Her heart feels as though it had gotten stuck, each beat a sharp jab against her chest. Her mouth parts, but no words seem to be able to escape. She simply sits. Frozen. Like her entire body had forgotten how to move.

Your hands tighten around her wrists as the world around you blurs with the onslaught of tears. "I'm sorry," you choke out. "They only told me today and I...I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you." Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind when Alexia remains silent. "Say something. Please." The desperation in your voice was evident.

Alexia shakes her head as if trying to shake off the reality that was suddenly crashing down around her, her hands lifting off of your thighs and visibly trembling. She clenches them into tight fists, a futile effort for control as her gaze darts unsteadily around the room.

"I..." she has no idea what to say.

“Alexia?” You plead.

Nothing.

You feel an overwhelming urge to flee beginning to fester in the back of your mind as your hands tightly clutch the material of your sweater. Alexia's knees were still pinned on either side of your own, halting your inevitable escape. You were trapped by her, both physically and emotionally, and the longer she remains silent, the more your panic begins to build.

Your leg begins to bounce on its own accord; your heart races and it feels as though you weren't getting enough air into your lungs. A spiral of panicked thoughts keep repeating themselves, becoming more and more insistent as the minutes pass. Alexia hates you. Alexia was going to leave you. Oh god. Nausea swirls in your gut. You can't breath. Are you dying? You're dying. You have to be dying. Why can't you breath? Panicked eyes search the room for an exit. The front door. The back door. Which was closer? You didn't know. But you had to get out. You had to go.

A gentle, unsteady hand cupping your cheek startles you, and your head whips round so quickly you almost give yourself whiplash. Alexia was staring at you, eyes wide in alarm. Her lips were moving. But you couldn't hear her voice. Couldn't make out what she was saying. Why couldn't you hear what she was saying?

You feel your body move, steady hands beneath your armpits. They support the entirety of your weight as you were lifted slightly into the air. Strong, familiar thighs were soon beneath your own, your heaving chest pressed flush against Alexia's. She wraps her arms so tightly around your midsection you have no choice but to mimic her breaths. They were steady, consistent. You choke out a pathetic sounding sob as your heart continues to pound, your body unintentionally fighting her own.

But her grasp was tight. So tight you could feel nothing but her. She begins to rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. The motion was steady. Repetitive. You feel your chest loosen. Just slightly. Enough for you to breath. To get some much needed air into your lungs. The white noise in your ears begins to fade. You could hear again. Alexia was talking. In Spanish. You couldn't really understand what she was saying. But her tone was soft. Soothing. Warm. The pounding in your heart slows, and you can breath again.

You no longer felt like you were dying. Everything was quiet. Calm.

Alexia's body stills as your desperate grasp around her shirt loosens, your head falling heavily against her shoulder. Her lips press against your neck, dotting gentle kisses over the soft expanse of warm skin. You shudder a little at the sensation as you hunch your shoulders up to your ears, hearing Alexia huff out a quiet sound of amusement as she halts her affectionate attack. You feel her hands rest on each of your hips, squeezing softly before easing you away from her. When your eyes meet her own, you could clearly tell she'd been crying.

And Alexia had been.

It had taken a little while to gather her thoughts -and to get over the curveball that had been thrown her way- but eventually, Alexia had come to the quite obvious realisation that just because you wouldn’t be in the same country anymore didn’t mean your relationship was over. Long distance sucks, but it was possible, and there were many cases where it had been quite successful. Take Ona’s girlfriend, Lucy, for example. Lucy had left Barça nearly four months ago, and both she and Ona were closer than ever. Yes, being apart would be difficult. She was fully aware of that fact. But doesn’t the saying go, distance makes the heart grow fonder?

"That was a bad one, huh?" She murmurs as she presses her forehead against her own, and you could do no more than nod. Panic attacks weren't uncommon for you, but rarely does it get to the point where Alexia has to intervene anymore thanks to years of therapy. You'd learnt to anticipate the usual warning signs allowing you to talk yourself out of one before it could even begin, but that evidently hadn't been the case today for obvious reasons.

"Was it because of me?" Her hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the wetness beneath your eyes. Her touch was so gentle you could barely feel it.

You shrug noncommittally as you harshly wipe off your cheeks. "Not really."

"Not really?" She raises an eyebrow, and you sigh lightly as you tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

"I just..." you trail off. "I guess I just panicked. You wouldn't answer me and my mind just jumped to the worst case scenario." You admit, hating the fact you were once again so close to tears.

Alexia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she loops her arms around your waist. "What do you mean?"

"I told you...I told you I was leaving, and you didn't say anything. My mind jumped to the conclusion that that was because you hated me and never wanted to see me again." Voicing your thoughts out loud made them sound stupid, and you worry now that maybe you'd majorly overreacted.

Alexia doesn't seem to have the same concern.

"Amor, you really think that little of me?" She sounds more hurt than she does mad, and the guilt hits you like a punch in the stomach. You immediately shake your head as you attempt to amend the situation.

"Of course not," you insist. "But I panicked. As I said, worst case scenario.”

Alexia releases her hold on you for a short second as she rubs her hands over her face.

You can't help but frown. "Ale, I'm so-"

Alexia cuts you off cupping your cheeks and kissing you fiercely. It quite literally takes your breath away, and you have absolutely no time to reciprocate before she was pulling away.

"I love you," your mouth parts to say it back, but Alexia shakes her head, resting her pointer finger against your lips. You gently kiss the digit, lips quirking up into a small smile when Alexia plainly pokes your nose. "I love you, and whilst I am so incredibly sad you are going to be leaving, it is not forever. I will visit you, you will visit me.”

"But it won't be the same." Your voice was a broken whisper.

Alexia clears her throat softly as her eyes grow shiny with tears. "I know," she murmurs, taking both your hands in her own and squeezing softly. "But we will get through this, sí? You are strong, and I am strong. We will be strong together until we are no longer apart."

"Strong together." you mimic, and Alexia nods with a sad smile on her face. You attempt to mimic that too, but you find it difficult to do thanks to the way your bottom lip was trembling. The first tear falls before you could stop it, and Alexia blows out a shaky breath as she pulls you back into her arms.

Yeah, this was going to suck.

So yeah. Alexia loves you so terrifyingly much that she was willing to risk your relationship by being approximately nine hundred and twenty nine miles apart. You had faith you would be just fine, but a small part of you, way way deep down was sure it would end up crashing and burning right in front of your eyes. Long distance relationships were hard, and yes, you loved each other, but would that really be enough in the long run? Would love really be enough to survive who knows how many years apart with only the occasional visit until your contract at Arsenal ended?

You'd voiced your worries to Alexia who had been quick to assure you that whilst your fears were valid, they were wrong. That it was just your brain, again, jumping to the worst case scenario because you were anxious about leaving. She'd assured you that love was most definitely enough, so long as you communicated with one another which was something you were both thankfully pretty damned good at.

From that moment forward, you make the most of what time you have left together. You go on dates that last all day, visiting all the places in Barcelona you’d fallen in love with. You spend hours in bed, skin against skin as your favourite movie plays in the background. You even make the drive over to Alexia’s childhood home and spend the day with her family as one final farewell.

Your team was told about your transfer just two weeks before you leave, tearful hugs being shared with the ones you were most close to. Mapi had all but clung to you throughout the entirety of your last training session, Ingrid having to coax her into letting go when it was time to head back home.

You play your last game a few days later, playing the entire ninety minutes and scoring three goals with the assistance of Aitana. When the whistle had blown, your entire team had surrounded you, murmuring their praises and pulling you into hugs so tight you struggled to catch your breath. You tightly clutch the crest on your chest as your eyes skim around the arena, meeting the tearful yet smiling faces of the fans who were cheering so loudly for you it was the only sound you could hear.

This was it. Your time at Barça was over, and what a ride it had been.

Tags:

@codiemarin @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @marysfics @alexias-putellas

#alexia putellas x reader #soft alexia putellas #alexia putellas x you #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femini x reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso appreciation #slight angst #happy ending

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playnextdoor · 3 months ago

Text

Take it off

summary: fwb!sub!abby x reader

warnings: fwb! abby, mentions of marijuana usage, sub! abby, teasing, nipple play, cunnilingus, making out, fingering, needy abby because it's my favorite. proof read-ish. lmk if i missed anything

Fall time was the best time. The stuffy, clammy summer air is gone, and the brisk fall air enters your lungs. The sound of the crunchy leaves under your feet, warm drinks, and smoke seshes in your nice, warm home. You love it.

But.. it also means cuffing season, and you weren't getting any of that because Abby decided to stop seeing you. You know you are not supposed to get attached while being friends with benefits, but fucking hell, it was Abby for crying out loud. It was normal for Abby to ghost you for 2-3 days, but a whole week? The beginning of the season has been shit for you.

You set up your nightly, ritually smoke sesh in your room. Sitting down on your cozy floor table, convenient for times like these, you start preparing your spread. Rolling papers that left a lingering taste of strawberries, the grinder that you decorated with stickers, your lucky lighter that is always with you, and finally, your precious herb that was in a small glass jar. You put on your favorite show and start getting comfortable until you hear Abby’s signature two knocks. You feel your heart drop literally to your ass. You wait for about 2 minutes until you listen to it again.

Knock, knock.

“Are you fucking kidding me..” you mutter, pushing the table as you stretch your legs. Grabbing the first item of clothing in your hamper, you slip on a hoodie and quickly walk to the door. Opening the door where you meet a deliciously looking blonde-haired girl. Hair out of her braid and shorts that accentuate the muscles on her thighs. She looks too good, and she knows it.

“What do you need?” you said, not even a hello and not even opening the door all the way. Abby puts her arm in the doorway.

“Aw, did you miss me?” she asks, using her body weight to push the door open, pushing you with it. She lets herself inside, already looking around your living room.

“C’mon, Abby. What do you need? You want to call us off for a week and show up at my house without letting me know?” You say as you close the door, following her into your living room. You instantly regret letting this woman back into your home again. The smell of her pine body wash, the sandalwood perfume she wore, and the warmth she emitted from her was enough to open your arms(or your legs) to her again.

“The thing is..” Abby starts, but as she sits on the couch, a sly smirk creeps on her face. You bite your bottom lip, aware of the effect Abby has on you, so if she smiles, you can’t help but smile.

“Take it off,” Abby says, making herself comfortable by spreading her legs, seeing how her shorts ride up and can get a peek of her baby blue spandex shorts. You feel your face warm up, trying to keep your eyes above her waist.

“E-excuse me?” was all you could say as you stared at her in disbelief.

She raises her eyebrows. “That hoodie,” she says, pointing to the exact hoodie you had on. “I came to get it back with a few of my other things.”

Shit.

“Look, I'm sorry,” sighing to mostly yourself. Abby reminded you that she wanted her stuff back, and because of the sudden disconnect between you two, you didn’t have the time. You took a moment to look around you, seeing if there were any remnants of her presence still lingering in your home. “I haven't done any laundry and just grabbed whatever was in my hamper. Tomorrow, I'll have a look around.”

Abby shakes her head with that same stupid smirk on her face. She flips her hair to the side and loosens the neck of her hoodie collar Was she hot..?

“No. I want you to take it off. Right now,” She says in that tone that you're familiar with. A deep, dulcet, yet desperate.

You feel this fluttering hurt in your stomach, the good kind. You haven’t slept with anyone since Abby, and she looks like she needs you…

Fuck it.

You grab the bottom of the hoodie, lifting it and revealing your naked top half. Your skin litters with goosebumps, feeling the slight chill air around you, but the warm liquid swimming in your belly is another thing. You see the light pink blush painting Abby’s cheeks as you toss the hoodie. Fuck she’s so cute. Abby catches it but tosses the hoodie to the side and yanks your hand as you fall on top of her.

“Abby!” you let out a small yelp as she melts her lips to yours. The way Abby was kissing you was enough to tell you that this girl was needy. Hertongue finds yours, teeth clashing, letting out small, quiet moans and whines as her grip on your arm tightens. You break the kiss, taking a good look at her glossy lips, her eyes drooped with arousal, and how her hair is already mused.

“And you said that I missed you? Look at you, poor baby.” You whisper in the space between the two of you, letting your lips linger but not enough for the needy girl below you to get another taste.

Abby’s eyes widen for a second, opening her mouth to say something but closing it with a flustered face.

“You missed me so much,” You say as your hand creeps up on the muscular thigh, so close to where she needs you. She shifts, wanting to get you between her legs, but you’re already one step ahead of her. You move your knee, having good pressure against Abby that has her slightly bucking her eager hips. “That you came over to get a stupid sweater?”

Abby’s eyebrows furrow, and she shakes her head. This cute, puzzled look on her face makes you want to bury her in kisses, but you’re supposed to be mad at her. You lean back into her lips, biting, sucking, anything that works her up. Abby is putty below you. She lets out these moans that you’ve never heard before, high-pitched mewls that make you bite her lip harder. Your hand creeps up her thigh, up into the crewneck, and you are met with her bare, sensitive chest, rising and falling rapidly You smile into the kiss, not wanting to embarrass her even more for coming over prepared. You grope her chest, fondling with the fat that lay there and playing with the pebbling nipple. Abby breaks the kiss, inhaling sharply.

“Ah- please.” She gasps, bucking her hips again. This was a completely different side of her. Abby has received from you, and she is pretty vocal in bed, but this fucking submissive? It makes you want to deprive her for weeks on end. You break the kiss, hurridly helping Abby take off her crewneck and attaching your mouth to her boob. Circling your tongue around the rose-colored nipple has Abby holding her breath. After a few minutes of playing with her chest, you trail kisses down to the navel. You didn’t even have to ask, as Abby was quick to slip her shorts off, tossing them somewhere in the living room.

“Mmm, needy, aren’t we?” looking into her eyes as you mutter against her hip bone, skin almost feverish to how warm she was. Abby rolls her eyes, the sass still somehow in her.

“Fuck yes, ok? Please, baby,” Abby whines, throwing her head back onto the couch armrest. She reveals her neck, sweat droplets cascade slowly, accentuating the veins that played there. Fingers are dancing up her leg, in between where you see how desperate her cunt is. Glistening, soft pink flesh and her musk have you blacking out slightly.

“I want you to look at me, Abby.” You said, patting her thigh to grab her attention as you met with her eyes. It’s as if she was god himself. Her fucked out expression made you clench around nothing.

“Good girl” was the last thing you said as you stuck your tongue out and licked a fat stripe of her pussy. Abby can't help but close her eyes, too overwhelmed by your teasing tongue.

“Nuh uh, look at me. I want you to watch, baby,” putting your tongue away, smoothing her shaking thighs over with your hands. She nods eagerly, raking her hair out of her face. You bite back a smile before diving in again. Spreading her open with your mouth, Abby was so wet. Slick coating your chin, you move your hand over to pull back her clit to kiss it. Moans strung out from the blonde above, not caring how loud she was getting. She grabs your hair and makes a satisfying pull to your scalp that has you groaning into her cunt. You alternate between sucking, licking, sucking, licking. Your head is spinning as you prop yourself on your elbows, applying the pressure of two fingers dancing on her clit, your jaw feeling sore. Smiling at the cute, blissed-out expression on Abby’s face makes you want to be between her legs all night.

“Are you close?” you ask, voice hoarse after not speaking for the last 3 minutes. Abby doesn't dare to open her eyes, knowing that if she makes eye contact with you, she’ll come too fast. She nods, eyebrows furrowed as she nibbles on her swollen bottom lip from the constant biting she does. You allow it this time, allowing Abby to take in the euphoric blooming in her stomach. You really shouldn’t, wishing you had prolonged her orgasm as a punishment for ghosting you and making you suffer every night.

“Come for me, baby, yeah? Show me how bad you want this” Famous last words before you attached your mouth back onto her clit, switching your finger to easily slip into her. Pumping your index finger in a “come hither” motion, feeling her clench around you.

“Fuck fuck, please, I’m coming. K-keep-ah-doing that,” She hisses as her body seizes, fingers gripping so good in your scalp. Strong thighs clamp around your head as you lazily lick at her rosy clit with a grin.

Who knew Abby could be so fucking needy?

a/n: heyyyyyyy, sorry i was on hiatus for a while. i suddenly got the motivation to write, so do what you will with this

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson drabble #orion's writing

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 11 months ago

Text

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S��okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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starzblvd · 7 months ago

Text

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie x reader #ellie tlou2 #tlou2 #lesbian

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wallflowers-in-the-wind · 4 months ago

Text

One thing I will never forget about Feyre is that she left a high lord who was true to his word and actually helping fae from other courts. Everyone was welcome and he was putting everyone else’s needs above his own. But because they weren’t good at communicating and were pushing their trauma to the side and refuses to find comfort in each other and talk they both got hurt. Tamlin took things too far in an effort to save her from herself and she left.

But Feyre chose to leave him for Rhysand. A high lord who doesn’t care about his people or anyone else he can’t manipulate. A liar who lives in dreams and can talk a big game but never follow through. Someone who commits SA and hides information without a single apology for his behavior. And wears a mask because it’s so important that no one knows who he really is instead of using his power and ability to help the people he refuses to help with the exception of one person.

She chose the worse possible option that got thousands of people, hurt or killed, and doesn’t care as long as she can have a fake title to throw around whenever she wants to feel important.

#acotar #sjm critical #anti rhysand #tamlin #pro tamlin #anti feysand #anti inner circle #a court of thorns and roses #acotar critical #feyre made the wrong choice #she chose the wrong high lord #and we all suffered for it #feyre #feyre critical

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yapileon · 1 month ago

Text

@TacklerCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 2

fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader pt. 1 2235w

17yo La Masia defender gets promoted to the first team. Will you be able to keep your fcb femení fan account hidden while slowly making your place in the team with your idols?

Alright you'll admit it. When you heard Aitana talking about your meme, you panicked, spending most of the night turning over in your bed. Realistically, there was no way anyone would ever link that account back to you, and also, you just used it to create funny memes and sometimes, you'd talk strategy too. Ok fair, you maybe had insulted some of the strategic decision from the Spanish federation once or twice (or a hundred time, but who's counting?). It was the Spanish federation after all, and you doubted anyone, and certainly not the team, would blame you for that.

To make sure to keep your hidden identity secret, it'd be simple, you just had to make sure to not be logged in the fan account when posting on your professional account. Also, you'd need to make sure to not use pictures you had taken yourself to make the memes. You smiled, satisfied, the plan was easy. Which means you now had time to post, Ingrid was your target today. It's true that you had a thing for memes, but what you liked even better were stats. Ingrid' stats? Magnificent. Chef kiss.

tacklersculers

liked by 273 people

posted 23 minutes ago...

You made a mental note to ask Ingrid's for passing tips later during your daily training session. But before, Alexia and most of the veteran players had decided a team bonding moment would be good to make sure you were well integrated.

While making your way to the training ground—because of course the team bonding would be in a recovery room from the training center— you spotted a chocolate store. Deciding coming empty handed would be unpolite, you bought some boxes to bring to the team. Because who doesn't like chocolate, right?

Alexia Putellas. Of course Alexia does not eat chocolate. The blonde had smiled to you when you had knocked on the door, waving the sweets when the Catalan had opened. She had taken them gently to put them on the side, and spoke "Gracias, cariño, but I don’t eat chocolate during the season." Your face fell so low she quickly added, "The others will love it!" Talk about dying inside.

Patri had embraced you, before looking at you, worried.

"Something's wrong?"

You slumped. "I just arrived and I'm already messing up Alexia's routine..." The midfielder looked at you questioningly. "I brought chocolate."

The brunette smirked, "Great, more for us." and then she had ran to grab the chocolate boxes, dragging Pina with her. You couldn't help but giggle.

You made your way forward to where most of the team was staying. Jana patted the couch, inviting you and you threw yourself in the gap next to her.

"Hi guys! I brought chocolate, but Pina and Patri ran off with them, so I don't think you'll get any." You had said innocently.

And just like that, Mapi, Vicky and Kika jumped off their chairs, letting them fall to the ground in a loud bang and ran.

Irene sighed, "I swear these three don't even sprint that fast during matches." She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, but you swore you could see a smirk on her lips.

You were too busy exchanging social medias with Jana to realize the two chocolate thief had come back, now chased by the three women. Pina and Patri were protecting the box as if it was their children, keeping it tight in between them. Vicky was trying to tear them apart to access the chocolate treasure, while Kika and Mapi were apparently plotting. That's when Mapi decided to throw herself at the thieve, tackling Patri to the ground.

"Ref! Unfair advantage! You're a defender you know how to tackle!" The midfielder tried to argue, but it was too late as Mapi held the box above her head, victorious.

"You'd all be getting red cards." Caro added, sighing at the desperate sight of the players acting like children.

You watched, amused, never thinking a simple box of chocolate would cause such a fuss.

Jana had gotten closer to you, and whispered in your ear "They like Churros even more than this, imagine the chaos it'd be." The smirk you gave her said it all, and you both mentally agreed to go and get Churros next time there would be a team bonding.

But Pina seemed set on making you pay for betraying her to the trio. She jumped on top of you and Jana, leaning heavily in both of your laps, looking at your phone.

That's when her eyes caught sight of your wallpaper of Mapi. She grabbed your phone. You screamed. She took off and you chased after her bickering for her to give you back your phone, but you hadn't seen that she had thrown it in Alexia's lap. The Catalan was squinting at your wallpaper, trying to decipher it.

"Is that..." She had started, unsure. "Is that a cardboard cutout of Mapi, next to you in bed?"

Your jaw dropped. "That's not what it looks like!" You were blushing furiously, if only you had been an ostrich your life would have been so much easier. You could have just banged your head in the ground and forget about whatever on earth was happening right now.

Mapi had sprinted even faster than when she went to run after the chocolate, hovering over Alexia's shoulder to look. She let herself fall on ground, holding her ribs while wheezing.

If you were not frozen, you could have tried grabbing back your phone before Alexia gave it to someone else, bus alas. The team was passing it to each other, all laughing.

"Wait, is she tucked in?!" Patri wheezed, already laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Vicky and Kika were both hitting each other, dying.

That sent some of the other players in a longer laughing fit. You dropped yourself on the couch, face buried in a pillow.

"It's the pyjamas for me," Ingrid added, pointing at the Christmas themed barça clothes you're wearing in the pic. You groan in response.

"Care to explain, cariño?" Alexia had said when most of your teammates had calmed down.

You whined, still hiding your face. "It's not fair, this is slander!"

Mapi, who had recovered from her laughing fit, had started to forcefully tear the pillow from you, but you were putting up a fight, unwilling to face the embarrassing truth just yet.

"Drop it or I'm filling a restraining order." The center back had teased, making you loosen your grip on the pillow, "You drop it! Or I'm never bringing you chocolate again!" you really tried to win, but the Spaniard was too strong for you.

When she took off the pillow from your face, you gasped, looking at her in horror. "First of all," you had started, furiously counting on your fingers. "That's your fault actually, because two years ago you didn't want to take a picture with me, so I stole that carboard from the Barcelona store." you recalled.

Now it was Alexia's turn to gasp "You stole that?" Her looks disapproving. You could tell she was not happy about that.

"It's cardboard anyways, it should be free?" You tried arguing, but were cut off by Frido, "That does not explain why you got the fake Mapi in your bed."

"Because my roommates wanted to steal her! So I had to protect cardboard Mapi."

You were dead serious. Two years ago, Barça B had won a big tournament, as a reward, the whole team was invited to watch a match from the first team. You had been delighted, thinking it would finally be your chance to get a picture with your idol. Except, things had not been going according to plan. The defender had been so focused on waving her barça flag around the field, time had slipped her mind and she was being hurried off the field. Leaving Mapi no time to interact with the fans. Before leaving, your group had been allowed to visit the merchandise store, as you were stomping around, visibly disappointed, you had seen it. A cardboard version of your idol, doing her famous lion pose. You hadn't really planned of doing it. Ok, maybe a little. So you had waited till the last moment, and when most of your teammates were out of the store, you had grabbed the cardboard cut-out and ran. You were a woman on a mission. Not stopping when you heard security guards shouting in Spanish behind you, or when you coach called your name in vain. When you were safe and sound, waiting in front of the team bus, you had looked at the life sized cardboard, appreciating it's beauty. "Totally worth it," you had mumbled to yourself.

The bus driver had looked at you weirdly, and you'd always remember the walk of shame of dragging that cardboard to the bedroom you shared with one of your teammates. Except she really wanted to have it too, asking if you two could split the custody. You did not want that, which meant you spent some long week never leaving fake Mapi alone, going as far as taking her in the bathroom with you when you showered, and keeping it in your bed.

Screeching brought your attention back to the women in the room with you.

"Do I have to be jealous?" Ingrid had screaming in between laughs. This was the final straw, chaos erupted in the recovery room. Even the serious players were gasping for breath. You swore you saw Ona almost fell out of her chair, clutching her side. The whole team was vibrating with joy.

You sighed, looking at Mapi. She had tears in her eyes and her grin was so wide you guessed her cheeks were burning. Those rare moments when the euphoria is so big, it feels like your whole body ache with it, the dopamine rush hitting you. That's when you decided that maybe, it wasn't so embarrassing after all and you laughed with them. If the center back, who was at least as concerned as you in this story, wasn't embarrassed or weirded out, then you wouldn't be either.

For a long time, it seemed everyone was driving themselves to laugh ever harder. Anytime someone stopped crackling, they'd look at each other and start loosing it even harder.

Though a knock had interrupted the room, allowing most players to catch their breath. Ona had jumped up to go get what you assumed was the food that had been ordered earlier. She had come back in record time.

Just as you thought the team might forget about your embarrassment, Aitana’s voice cut through the laughter, dragging you into your next moment of doom.

"Look at that Ona, you're being as fast as The Flash again."

Ona had taken this for a challenge apparently, and was now running in circle around everyone. Bumping against Caro, who had started unpacking the take outs, making her curse at Ona.

The younger players snickered, aware of the meme. But when you heard that you paled, you had almost forgot about what had happened in the locker room yesterday. And for Ona to take the meme at heart so much meant that some of the players really knew about it. It was just one funny picture, you did not think they'd bring the subject up again.

Sinking into the comfy couch, you went silent, listening to the team. The older players were distributing the food, making plates for everyone while looking at Aitana, unsure of what she was talking about.

"¿Qué?" Alexia questioned, looking confused, "The...The Flash?"

Ona and Vicky threw themselves next to the captain, pulling out their phone to show her the meme. Oh god, did they knew that much about your account?

Seriously, what on earth had you done to deserve all this. First there was the chocolate chaos, secondly your Mapi cardboard story, and now you had to deal with all of them talking about your secret fan account. Your karma was very obviously failing you, or you were a terrible person in a past life, but it definitely felt like some stronger power was against you today.

"Wait, is this me?" Ingrid exclaimed, pointing at the phone with a smile.

Jana looked, "Yeah, look like they posted a new meme this morning...94% pass completion, that's really good Ingrid!" she said brightly.

Irene joined the conversation, "So they don't just make funny memes, but also keep up with our statistics?"

"That's actually hilarious, send me their account please!" Frido chimed in, chewing on food.

You were too absorbed watching them, horror in your eyes, to realize Mapi had plopped down next to you. The woman looked so serious you almost panicked.

"You know kid," she had started, looking deep in your eyes, "If I had known you were so great, I would have fought the security to take a picture with you," You could see she was dead serious, and couldn't help bursting out laughing at the thought of her fighting off the security using her barça flag as a sword.

"Sure," you beamed, relaxed but trying you best to look serious.

She gave you a cheeky smile, before continuing "So, you're bringing my cardboard twin to training tomorrow?" the defender ruffled you hair. "That's it, no more chocolate for you, ever." Back to cringing in the pillow you went. But deep down, you felt exhilarated, like everything you had dreamt of for years was finally happening. You were making your place in the best team in the world. And if being teased was all you had to deal with, you'd take it in a heartbeat.

Oh and, you were definitely bringing fake Mapi to training tomorrow.

pt. 3

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ashwhowrites · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, I love ur stories and I had an idea I was hoping you could write. If not I completely understand and respect that. I loved ur fic where Eddie was the popular one instead and everyone thought hellfire/his band was cool. So would you be able to write another popular Eddie Munson x shy/nerdy reader fic but instead it doesn’t deal with the whole upside it’s more so of Eddie is popular and gets paired with nerdy reader or kind of like a 10 things I hate about you sort of thing where there’s a bet and she finds out about it but a happy ending please:) if not completely fine. I hope you have a great day/night and wish all the best for you <3

I think this got a little long because I squeezed it all in one part. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Bet on me

It wasn't a shock that Eddie could get any girl he wanted. And his long list of the girls he dated could back that up. He never had anyone turn him down and that made him cocky. His friends loved it, boys will be boys. And boys love to play games.

"How was the date with Tracy?" Blake asked, one of Eddie's popular friends.

"It was alright. She was easy so that was nice" Eddie smirked, just another girl on the list.

"Well, you aren't the only one that got laid last night. I got Chrissy Cunningham, which puts me above you" Josh gloated. A pleased smile on his face as Eddie rolled his eyes.

"How did you land her? She's like forbidden" Eddie asked, a little hit to his ego.

"Either way, Josh is now at the top of the list. Getting closer to the $300" Blake said, writing down little dashes next to Josh's name.

"No way. I'm not losing $300. Who do I need to date to get me on the top?" Eddie asked, shoving Josh aside as he continued to brag.

"Um, how about..." Blake said as he looked around. Eddie watched as a twisted smirk showed up on his face. He looked back to Eddie with evil in his eye.

"Y/F/N"

Josh laughed out loud. A laugh so hard he smacked Eddie next to him.

"Dude there's no way she's going to agree to that!" Eddie argued. Y/N was the nerd of the school. There were a few nerds, but she was the smartest out of all of them. She was quiet and kept to herself. How the hell would Eddie get her to date him? How the hell would he even get a conversation started?

"Damn, then it looks like you can hand over that $300 now," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"If anyone can crack her, it'll be you," Blake said, encouraging Eddie as he hyped him up.

"I'll add $200 more if you can take her virginity," Josh smirked, knowing Eddie wouldn't shy away from a higher bet.

"Well gentleman, looks like I'm making $500" Eddie smirked as he walked off, heading towards her direction.

Y/N finished grabbing her books from her locker. She slammed the locker shut and jumped as Eddie leaned against the metal beside her.

"Y/N right?" He asked, putting on his best charming smile.

"Um yeah," she said quietly, not quite making eye contact with the popular boy.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?" He asked, putting his arm near her head as he leaned into her. He felt a blow to his ego when she stepped back.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we have much in common." She spoke quietly that he could barely hear her. But she walked past him.

It looked like Eddie had to put in more work than he was used to.

~~~

Eddie waited a few days before he talked to her again. He didn't want his sudden interest to be that suspicious.

He walked into his math class, heading straight for the teacher.

"Mr. Munson, what can I do for you?" The teacher sighed

"Can I get a tutor? I need to pass this next test or my uncle is gonna kick my ass." He said, not a full lie. Wayne was getting pissed off with Eddie's grades.

"Language," the teacher scolded, "but I'm glad you are finally accepting help. I have a few options, there is Char-"

"I want Y/N," Eddie said, well demanded.

"Y/N? She is my best student but she doesn't take well to tutoring the popular crowd" the teacher explained.

"I'll make her change her mind," Eddie said with a cocky smile

And just like that Y/N was in the palm of his hand.

~~~

It took a few days before the teacher assigned her to tutor him. She tried to fight it but the teacher refused. She was extremely confused as to why Eddie would request her, and the thought made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the small trailer. She looked down at the address on the piece of paper, making sure she was in the right place.

She looked up as she heard the door open. Spit caught in her throat as a shirtless and incredibly sweaty Eddie stood before her.

"Sorry. Was doing a workout, come on in" he said, stepping aside as she walked in. He pushed back his sweaty curls and closed the door.

"Do you want me to come back?" She asked. She felt extremely awkward that she interrupted a workout.

"No, you're fine. I'll just rinse off quickly and join you. Feel free to take a seat on the couch and help yourself to anything in the fridge" he said before he headed off into the bathroom.

She sat on the couch, taking in the small trailer. She could see baby photos of Eddie and an older man. The walls were covered in mugs and baseball caps. But it was a place of memories.

She grabbed out her books, pencils, and paper. She wasn't the type to help herself to something in the fridge so she sat and waited. She tried to shake away the thought of Eddie standing in the shower. The water dripped down his toned and tatted chest.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Eddie walked out, head down as he rang out his long hair. A loose muscle tank top covered his chest, and her eyes were locked on his arms. Then she looked down and took in his sweatpants. She looked away as he looked up. He tossed the towel back in the bathroom and walked to sit right next to her.

She shivered as she took in the smell of his shampoo and aftershave. She yelled at herself in her head to get a damn grip. But Eddie was attractive, everyone knew that. And she was simply a girl sitting next to the hottest boy in school, watching him get out of the shower.

"Where do we start?" He asked, smirking as she jumped out of her skin. He loved that behind all her walls, she was still a girl who found him attractive. At least now he knew what he could play at.

"With your last test," Y/N said, taking out his graded test and handing it over for him to look at. "Tell me what you don't understand" She looked up at him as she waited for him to answer.

"How you are so beautiful and don't have a boyfriend" he replied, his eyes looking nowhere near the paper.

"Oh...uh thanks," she said, "but I meant about the math, Eddie."

He sighed as his words seemed to not have any effect. She was able to compose herself and brush him off.

He figured he needed to earn a little friendship with her first. So he sat there for two hours doing math.

Y/N sighed in relief when the sky got dark and she had a reason to go home.

"Well it's getting dark so I better head out. You did very well today. I think we can get you around a C" she said as she stood up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" He asked, grabbing her hand and freezing her in her spot. "Maybe talk without it being about numbers?"

"I uh- I rode my bike here so I really should go home." She said, giving him a small smile as she released her hand from his.

She waved bye as she walked out the door.

Eddie sighed as the door closed. She was a lot harder to crack than he thought.

~~~

As the final bell rang, Eddie was already in the parking lot. He stood near the bike rack, not sure which one would have been hers.

"Oh hi, Eddie" she greeted him with a smile as she unlocked her bike.

"I was thinking, what if we put your bike in my van, and I'll drive you to my place tonight. Maybe stay for dinner?" He asked, his cocky smirk made her face heat up.

She looked around as students watched them interact. A few of his friends stared at them, and it made her nervous.

"Then I'll drive you home and you won't have to worry about biking in the dark," Eddie added, the final push to make her sigh and agree.

She sat nervously in his van as the music played through the speakers. She found herself humming along and drumming her fingers against her thighs.

Eddie smiled as he heard her softly singing, he was very surprised the shy nerd would listen to the same music as he did. He turned up the volume, winking towards her as she noticed.

"Don't stop, I like hearing you sing." He said, and for once he was honest.

Wait...did he like something about her?

They walked into the trailer and sat on the couch. For the first few hours, he stuck to the math, knowing she wouldn't move on unless they did.

"I'm starving, you hungry?" He asked as he stood up. His brain felt fried for squeezing in math for the past two days.

"I could eat" she smiled

"Follow me to the kitchen, milady" he joked as he held his arm out.

He silently cheered in his head as she laughed and took his arm. He walked them a few steps into the kitchen. He let go of her arm to look in his pantry.

"Mac n cheese?" He asked, taking out the small box.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N said as she took a seat at the small table.

Eddie began to prep the meal, trying to rank his brain for questions to ask.

"How come you wanted me to tutor you?" Y/N asked, her fingers drumming against the table.

"I wanted to get to know you," Eddie said, and it was the truth. He just had a different reason why he wanted to know her.

"But why? You've never noticed me before" She wasn't dumb. She knew Eddie wouldn't magically like her out of nowhere, no one did.

"But I noticed you now," he said, turning to look at her as the water boiled.

She accepted his answer and continued to drum her fingers against the table.

"Nervous habit?" He asked, nodding towards her fingers.

She felt her face blush as she clenched her hands into fits.

"A bit" she shrugged as she looked down

She heard him walking closer to her, her breathing picking up as he used his finger to lift up her chin. She stared at him like a love-sick puppy and he felt himself loving it.

"Why do I make you nervous, beautiful?" He whispered, she gulped as she bit at her lip. Eddie softly moved his hand up, his thumb yanking her bottom lip away from her teeth. A puff of air left her lips as she gasped. She tried not to squirm in her seat as he leaned down.

She was close enough to see every color in his eyes, every freckle on his skin, and just how pink his lips were.

"Is it because you like me?" He whispered. He smirked to himself when her eyes zoned in on his lips. He was cracking her down.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, her eyes snapped up to his eyes. He could see the panic, the fear, and the lust swimming together in her eyes.

"I- I've - don't know.." she trailed off, her eyes getting lost in his as the water boiled in the background. The only sound pulling her back to Earth.

"Never kissed someone have you?" He asked, his thumb softly rubbing her bottom lip again. She softly shook her head no.

She felt like she could breathe again when he stood up straight and removed his thumb. Space between them as she sucked in as much air as she could.

"That's a shame. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen" he winked, then turned around and finished making dinner.

He was collected, calm, and in charge.

She was a mess, anxiety-filled, and had no upper hand.

She got caught in the Eddie Munson spell.

~~~

Y/N felt awkward the next day at school. Knowing she was seconds away from kissing Eddie did something to her head.

He asked if she wanted him to kiss her. Did that mean he wanted to? Or was it a mind game he enjoyed? She knew his reputation and that relationships were not what girls went to him for.

She didn't have it in her to be used and tossed. She was far too sensitive for causal. As she walked through the hallway, her eyes caught a poster.

Hawkins Carnival

This weekend only

"Are you thinking about going?"

She turned her head as Eddie's voice filled her ears. He stood next to her, dressed to impress in his jacket and jeans.

"Oh, probably not. I'm not the best at those games." She said with a small laugh

Eddie knocked his shoulder against hers

"Half of it is strategy and the other half is physical. Which means if we team up, we could win and get our money's worth." Eddie explained

Did he want to spend his Saturday night at a carnival with Y/N?

Hell no. He wanted to be at a wild party and drinking until he forgot where he was.

But he had a bet to win.

"You want to go to the carnival together?" She asked, her head turned to the side as she looked at him. She felt the need to clarify what he was saying

He turned to catch her eyes

"It's a date then, sweetheart. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six." As always, he left with a wink that had her heart racing.

She was going on a date with Eddie.

~~~

Y/N barely slept that night. Her head filled with all the horrible things that could happen on the date. But also she allowed herself to get a little excited. Maybe she needed to not think so harshly about Eddie. Maybe he was a good guy and simply interested in her.

She sat on the front step, waiting for Eddie to pick her up. She took a deep breath as his van pulled up the street.

Eddie got out of his van and walked over to open her door.

"You look gorgeous," he said in awe. For once he saw her as more than the little nerd he met. Her glasses were gone, her hair loose on her shoulders, and simple touches of makeup that she probably didn't even need. He never realized how pretty she was just being casual. She always wore sweaters and skirts, but now her arms were bare as she wore a pink tank top. Her chest caught his eyes as he tried to look away. Then her smooth legs showed from her jean shorts.

"Oh thanks," she said shyly, "you look very handsome, Eddie." He wore a band T-shirt, his wrists covered in bracelets, black jeans with a red flannel tied around his skinny waist and his dirty sneakers.

For once in his life Eddie blushed

The drive was comfortable, and both sang along to the music. Eddie never realized how much he enjoyed her company.

The sun was still out and hot as they headed into the carnival. Eddie slipped his hand in hers, not saying a word about it as he walked up to the ticket booth. Once he paid for their tickets, they were walking hand in hand as they walked in.

The loud conversations filled her ears and the smell of popcorn filled her nose.

"Where should we start?" She asked, taking in all the rides and games.

"Bottle ring toss!" Eddie cheered as he walked them over to the small booth.

"Alright, gorgeous. What's my strategy?" He asked, handing the small bills over and receiving the rings.

Y/N leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Aim for the ones closest to you. And aim for the middle, it'll increase the chance that the ring will bounce onto one of the bottles."

She pulled back and stepped back, giving him space to toss.

And he did just as she said, tossing the ring into the middle. The small red ring landed on the bottle. He did it two more times and won.

He bowed as she clapped. The worker grabbed the small stuffed animal and handed it over. Eddie grabbed the small bear and happily handed it to Y/N.

She tucked the small bear under her arm and thanked him. He smiled and slid his hand back into hers as they continued to walk.

After two hours, they were hot and tired of walking around.

"Let's take a seat" Eddie groaned, sitting down on the bench. Y/N laughed but sat next to him.

With the moment to breathe, her head was spinning. She couldn't believe how much fun she was having with Eddie. How sweet he was and how he paid for everything, no questions.

"I'm so sweaty and hot" Eddie groaned, his curls all frizzy.

"Here, this might help," Y/N said as she stood up. Eddie watched confused as she walked behind him, and began to lift up his air. He breathed in relief as his hair was removed from his neck. He smiled to himself as she tied up his hair. A comforting feeling landed on his chest.

She used the binder on her wrist to tie up his hair, throwing it in a messy bun. She walked back in front of him and held out her hand.

"Let's go ride some rides and feel the wind"

Eddie smiled and grabbed her hand. He was actually having the time of his life. He was enjoying every second with her. And as he realized that, he felt a heavy amount of guilt fill his body.

Eddie blindly followed, focused on how terrible he felt.

"Ferris wheel?" She asked as they walked near it. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. They walked in line and got on the small cart.

Their bodies smashed together as the ride slowly began to move. Eddie felt sick and he didn't think it was because of the ride.

"The sun is setting. Look how beautiful it is!" Y/N said as she pointed off into the sky. Eddie followed her finger and took in the pinks and purples that decorated the sky.

The ride ticked and slowly came to a stop, their cart at the very top. Y/N hummed as she felt the nighttime breeze start to make it's way. Her hair softly blew in the wind as she reached for his hand.

"Eddie?"

He snapped out of his thoughts again, looking over at her.

"Yeah?" He asked. He took in how beautiful she looked as the sun set behind her. The way her hair blew out of her face, and the scent of her perfume made his heart race.

Fuck...he likes her

"I want you to kiss me" she whispered, her eyes looking down to his lips as she leaned in.

Eddie felt conflicted as her eyes closed and she leaned closer. He knew he should have stopped her, and he should have confessed. But he wanted to kiss her, even if it would be the only time.

Her lips touched his and his mind went blank. All he could feel was her lips. Her left hand moved up to softly touch his cheek. He softly kissed her back, his hand landing on her thigh. The kiss was short and sweet, but impactful.

She pulled away, nervously. She just had her first kiss with the most popular boy in school.

Eddie had the first kiss that ever made him feel something. He looked into her eyes as she waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He pressed his lips eagerly against hers, already missing the way they felt against his.

Eddie pulled up in her familiar driveway. His stomach filled with endless butterflies. He never knew he could like a girl so much.

"I had a great time, Eddie." She said softly, holding the small bear in her hands. "Thank you" She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then got out of the van.

Eddie watched as she walked into her house. Her lips lingered on his cheek and guilt lingered on his mind.

~~~

A week passed, and Eddie and Y/N spent the week doing math. And now that the weekend was here, Eddie took her on another date.

This time at a house party. Y/N wasn't totally interested but she wanted to be with Eddie.

Eddie was terrified, but he had a plan. He wanted to go on a date somewhere else but his friends forced him to come. He didn't want to cancel with her so he bit the dust and arrived.

He was going to call off the bet with his friends and explain it all to her and hopefully, it would work out.

They walked in and all eyes were on them. Y/N gripped Eddie's hand as she tried to hide his body as they walked through. Everyone took in her small black flowy dress and red lips. She felt pretty and tried to keep her head high.

The night went and Y/N was tasting alcohol for the first time. She was a smart girl but didn't know a limit. She lost Eddie in the crowd, but she was on the path to find him.

She was drunk, stumbling around, and about to do something so stupid.

"So I need to talk to you guys about Y/N." Eddie sighed, the alcohol doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Seems to be going very well, my man. Gonna hit it soon?" Josh asked, patting Eddie on the shoulder.

"About that-" but he was cut off when a body slid up next to his. He looked down as Y/N slid under his arm and cuddled into his side.

"I want to talk to you" Y/N whispered as she looked up at him. He looked down at her pouty red lips, craving nothing more than to kiss her.

"Alright. Let's go outside" Eddie offered

"I was actually thinking we could talk in the bedroom." She said, her finger trailing down his chest.

His friends whistled and Eddie was quick to grab her hand and walk her away.

"ATTA BOY MUNSON!"

Eddie groaned to himself as he flipped off his friends. Quickly rushing them up to the bedroom so he could confess everything before it was too late.

As they made it into the room, Y/N had more confidence than ever before. She pushed Eddie onto the bed, landing on his lap as she pressed her lips against his.

Eddie moaned as she rocked against his hips, but he had to focus on what was important. He held her hips still and pulled away from the kiss.

"I really need to talk to you," he said, she hummed but moved her lips to his neck.

"Talk to me," she said as she pulled away. He sighed in relief when she got off his lap.

"I need you to kn-" but the words died in his throat as she pushed down her dress. He felt a growl in the back of his throat as he took her in. The black bra and underwear looked amazing against her skin. He felt his cock grow hard as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she walked towards him again.

"Know what?" She whispered as she ran her hands up his thighs.

Eddie felt like he had an angel and devil on his shoulders. One side begging to cave and feel her wrapped around him. But the other side telling him to go any further would be wrong.

Before he could think of picking a side, the door flung open.

Y/N screeched and quickly grabbed the blanket off the bed. Eddie panicked as Josh walked in with a big smirk and a handful of cash in his hand.

"Well well well, Eddie you actually did it."

Eddie felt his blood run cold as he got off the bed. He snatched her dress and bra off the floor and handed it over to her.

"I'll be right back," he said before he harshly shoved Josh out the door.

Y/N was fast to get dressed, clipping on her bra as she immediately became sober. She slipped on her dress and cracked open the door.

"I don't want the fucking money. I want out." Eddie harshly whispered

"Oh come on Eddie. You put like three weeks into this bet, gonna quit now?" Josh scoffed

Y/N felt her stomach turn as she took in the words.

"Fine, you dated her so I'll give you the $300, but you didn't fuck her so you owe me the $200."

"You made a bet about me?" Y/N spoke, her voice cracking as she could feel the tightness in her throat. She opened the door wider, and the two boys froze upon her feet.

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the world crumbling around him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. He felt his heart ache as the tears fell down her cheeks and the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Yes but please let me explain!" Eddie begged, his voice wavering with nerves.

Before she could think, her right hand slapped across his cheek. The sound echoed down the hallway and Josh yelled out to the party. People rushed up the stairs as Y/N stared Eddie down with the most hateful look he had ever seen.

"I can't believe I ever thought you liked me. I fucking hate you." She said through her clenched teeth, hot tears running down her face as she shoved him. She was fast as she pushed through the crowd and raced down and out of the house.

"Y/N! WAIT!" Eddie screamed, feeling the sting on his cheek as he pushed through the crowd.

But by the time he made it out, she was gone.

~~~

He showed up at her house over and over, but she never opened the door.

He had no idea how to make things right but he would die trying.

Monday morning he was off. He stopped by the flower store, picking out the prettiest ones he could find.

He held them in a tight grip as he walked into the building. Half the school was at the party so eyes followed him as he walked to her locker.

She was back to her normal self. Glasses on and her hair up, a sweater on her body, and a skirt on her hips.

"Y/N?" He said gently

"Eddie don't" she sighed as she looked at him

"Please I can explain" he begged

"Explain? Eddie, I'm not an idiot. You don't think I know that people think I'm a joke? I get it, I was a funny target for your popular games. But the game is over so just leave me alone." She said, tears building in her eyes as she walked off to class.

"But you're not a joke! You mean so much more than that!" Eddie said, following behind her and grabbing her arm. She sighed as he stopped her, the eyes of everyone on them. But Eddie didn't care, he was focused on her.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you would have never looked my way otherwise. You would have never liked me and you wouldn't have tried to get to know me." She said and walked away.

It hurt but Eddie knew she was right.

~~~

Eddie left her alone for about a week. He wanted to give her time to cry, scream, or whatever she needed to feel. But he didn't give up on her.

It was hard for both of them. He watched her every move throughout school, and she fought hard to never look. She dropped out of tutoring, which he felt would happen. He still worked hard at math, wanting nothing more than to prove their time spent together was for something.

He missed her and she missed him. She still has the bear, she cuddles with it every night. Eddie slept with the moments they had.

Y/N sighed as she walked out of school. It was Friday and she couldn't wait to go home and sleep away everything she felt.

But of course, Eddie stood there at the bike rack

"Eddie" she groaned

"I know. You don't want to talk to me or see me. I respected that for as long as I could. But I need you to know that everything I felt was real. I fell for you." He explained, his eyes pleading for her to stay.

"How can I believe you? How can I look at you the same way? I-I...I'm so hurt, Eddie. I knew getting involved with you was a bad idea. From the first night, when all you did was flirt and try to make me one of those girls. You knew I was fragile, and you used that against me. You toyed me along and made me believe for once I could be someone worthy of someone like you. I had my guard up in the beginning, but you were so sweet-" she got choked up as tears fell down her face. "So sweet that I thought I was the bad guy for thinking so little about you. That maybe you aren't a bad guy and I should see where it goes. But you are that guy Eddie. You are that shallow, selfish, and asshole guy."

"I'm sorry, I know! I'm an asshole, I was selfish. I had bad intentions in mind and you didn't deserve that. But I mean it when I say that you are someone anyone could fall in love with. I've never felt the things I feel for you. The way you make my heart race and the way you make me blush. You make me want to be someone better. I don't want the endless girls and be that guy anymore. I want to be worthy to be with you." Eddie choked out, tears building in his eyes as he made himself vulnerable to her.

She bit her lip as she tried to keep her cries inside. Her heart broke seeing him cry and being so torn up about it.

"That night at the carnival changed everything. We were going out even more after that. All those times together were real. Please just let me fix this." He begged.

"If they didn't walk in, would you have slept with me? Complete the bet?" It was a question she was scared to ask.

"No," he said without a thought, "I was going to tell you that night, I swear. I wanted to tell you at the carnival but then we kissed and every thought I had vanished. Then I was going to tell you at the party, and once you wanted to go further I knew I wouldn't until you knew the truth. No matter how hard it was to think straight when you looked the way you did. But I would never have gone through with it."

Maybe it was a mistake and maybe she'd get burned. But just like the last few weeks, she believed him.

"I'm Y/N, the last guy I liked kinda was an asshole. Think you can make me forget about that?" She asked, a teasing smile on her face as she held out her hand

Eddie wiped his tears and shook her hand. "I'm Eddie. And I'm gonna try my damn best to do so."

And he did. She wanted to go extremely slow. She made them start as friends, slowly trusting him as the months went on. He was patient, in no rush as he worked to be the best for her.

After being friends for three months, she asked him to kiss her. And he gladly did.

Tags!

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712 notes · View notes

shinysobi · 7 months ago

Text

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #colin my beautiful boy i will avenge you from these dumb people #penelope my sweet girl you are a dumbass but i am rooting for you and the love of your life #also anyone else see that complex female characters on this show are much better written when there's a woman running it?#hmmmm jess brownell you have my respect...for now #long rant but uhhh i am writing a fanfic where i erase the mistakes of cvd (the ghastly man)#the only good thing you did was the casting and i doubt you had a hand in it at ALL #luke newton and nicola coughlan the ACTORS that you are

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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

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His Shadow: Finale

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences

The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue over the gardens of the river house, illuminating the vibrant flowers and manicured lawns. YN stood at a distance, leaning against the stone railing of the balcony, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding below. She had never fully immersed herself in Azriel’s world, always keeping a cautious distance. Tonight was different. Tonight, she would be an integral part of it, if only for a fleeting moment.

Her outfit was a stark contrast to the serenity of the setting. The dress she wore was designed to captivate—its deep crimson fabric clung to her curves and featured a plunging neckline that exposed more skin than she was accustomed to. The dress was both elegant and provocatively revealing, with a high slit that reached just above her knee. It was the type of outfit that commanded attention, meant to seduce, to draw the gaze of anyone who looked her way. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable, yet tonight, this was her role.

As she watched from afar, her thoughts were a whirl of emotions. The laughter of Azriel’s nephews, Nyx and Agnar, reached her ears, carried by the gentle breeze. They darted around the garden, their joyous squeals and carefree play painting a picture of the life she longed to be part of. The sight of them running and playing with abandon tugged at her heartstrings, a reminder of the life she was fighting to secure for herself and her son.

YN’s fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of her dress, feeling the soft fabric under her touch. She had never imagined herself in such a position—standing on the periphery of Azriel’s life, preparing to return to the pleasure house to fulfil her duties, all while clinging to the hope of breaking free from her bond. This evening, the contrast between the warmth of the river house and the cold, harsh reality of her job was glaring.

She could see Azriel’s nephews chasing after a ball, their laughter ringing through the air. The way they looked up at Azriel with adoration, the ease with which they interacted with him, struck a chord deep within her. It was a reminder of what she stood to gain—freedom from her bond and a chance to build a life where she could be a part of something beautiful and fulfilling.

YN took a deep breath, steeling herself for the night ahead. The plan was set. When Keir's assistant called for her services, she would use her charm to distract him. The men who would accompany her, Rhys and Cassian, would handle the guards and, ultimately, the assistant. The night was a crucial step toward breaking the bond, but it was also a painful reminder of her current circumstances.

As she adjusted her dress, she felt a pang of unease. She would need to focus on the mission, to put aside her fear and the emotional weight of her actions. She had faced many challenges in her life, but this was different—this involved the safety of her family and the chance at a future free from the constraints that had bound her for so long.

Her reflection in the glass door showed her a woman caught between two worlds—one of beauty and luxury, and the other of necessity and survival. The evening promised to be one of tension and high stakes, but YN knew she had to remain resolute. The goal was within reach, and she had to play her part to achieve it.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the garden, YN took one last look at the peaceful scene below. The laughter of the children, the gentle rustle of the leaves in the garden—these were things she wanted to hold onto. They symbolized the life she hoped to reclaim, to share with Azriel and Knox, once the shadow of her past was behind her.

With a deep breath, YN prepared herself for the night ahead. She would be the seductress, playing her part with precision and focus. The end was in sight, and she was determined to see it through, no matter the cost. Tonight, she would confront her past and secure her future, all while holding onto the hope that this was the final step toward a new beginning.

As YN stood on the balcony, her thoughts distant and her heart heavy with the weight of the night ahead, she felt a familiar presence before she heard him. Azriel’s shadows, ever-present and swirling in the air, announced his approach. He moved with a quiet grace, his footsteps barely audible on the stone floor as he came up behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. His presence was as comforting as it was intense, a silent force that she had grown to love over the years.

Azriel was already dressed for the night, his dark attire blending seamlessly with the encroaching dusk. His wings were folded neatly behind him, their shadows casting a faint outline against the stone wall. He paused for a moment, his golden eyes taking in the sight of her standing there, dressed in her revealing gown, her shoulders tense and her gaze distant. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her gently against his chest.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the only sound being the distant laughter of his nephews playing in the gardens below. YN leaned into his embrace, her fingers gently resting on his forearms as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be grounded by the solidity of his presence.

But Azriel was never one to leave things unspoken, especially when his mind was filled with questions.

"I noticed something when we stormed into your apartment that night," he began softly, his voice low but laced with tension. “The shadows there… they weren’t mine.”

His words hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken for too long. YN stiffened slightly, but she didn’t respond immediately. She knew exactly what he was referring to. She had felt it too—that moment when her shadows had acted on their own, attempting to protect her in the chaos of the attack. But she wasn’t ready to explain it. Not yet.

Azriel tightened his grip around her, his lips brushing the top of her head as he continued. “You never told me, YN. You never told me that you had them.”

She swallowed hard, the tension in her body increasing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, her voice barely a whisper. She kept her eyes forward, staring at the horizon, refusing to meet his gaze.

But Azriel wasn’t convinced. He knew her too well. He knew when she was hiding something, and this was no different. He gently turned her around in his arms, forcing her to face him, his golden eyes piercing into hers with an intensity that made her heart race.

“You do,” he said quietly, but firmly. “I know you do. The shadows responded to you, YN. They weren’t mine, and they weren’t just there by coincidence.”

YN bit her lip, her gaze flickering away from his for a moment. She could feel the weight of his stare, the unspoken questions hanging between them. She knew he wouldn’t let this go, but how could she explain something she barely understood herself?

“I’m just Illyrian, Az,” she said softly, her voice steady but evasive. “I don’t have shadows. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

But Azriel shook his head, his jaw tightening slightly. “That’s not all you are, YN. I’ve always known there was something else, something different about you. The way the shadows moved… it wasn’t just coincidence. It was you.”

She could feel his frustration, the way he was trying to piece together something she had kept hidden for so long. Little did he know, the truth was far more complicated than even she could explain. The other half of her, the half that wasn’t Illyrian, was something she had never fully come to terms with. The whispers of darkness in her blood, the ancient magic that stirred within her, had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface.

But she wasn’t ready to tell him that. She wasn’t ready to tell him that her mother had been descended from witches, that her bloodline carried the remnants of a dark and ancient magic—one tied to the shadows themselves. It was something she had learned to suppress, to ignore, hoping it would fade with time. But it hadn’t. And now, it was coming to the surface, right when she needed control the most.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time, though the lie felt heavy on her tongue.

Azriel studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers for any hint of the truth. But YN held her ground, her expression guarded. She wasn’t ready to tell him. Not yet. Not ever.

With a quiet sigh, Azriel loosened his grip on her, stepping back slightly, though his concern didn’t fade. “I don’t know what it is you’re hiding, YN,” he said softly, “but whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone. You know that, right?”

Her heart clenched at his words, but she nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more. She couldn’t tell him yet. The truth of her lineage, of the dark magic that flowed through her veins, was a secret she had buried for so long. And for now, it would stay buried.

Azriel pulled her close again, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Rhys and Cassian will be here soon,” he murmured, his voice filled with the unspoken weight of the mission ahead. “We’ll get through this, YN. We’ll get you free.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into him as the gravity of the night settled around them. She didn’t know what the future held, but with Azriel by her side, she felt like she could face anything—even the shadows of her past.

---

YN’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood outside the assistant’s lavish residence in the Hewn City. The dark, imposing building loomed before her, a stark reminder of the power Keir's assistant held. Tonight wasn’t just about playing her role in the pleasure house—it was about gaining her freedom. The plan had been set, and now, it was up to her to execute it.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she adjusted her revealing outfit, the same one she wore on the nights she was expected to seduce and serve. The fabric clung to her in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. This wasn’t new to her—she’d done it countless times before, playing the part, pretending the pleasure was hers when it never had been. But tonight was different. Tonight, she had to play this role flawlessly, or everything would fall apart.

The door creaked open, revealing Keir's assistant standing there, dressed in his usual fine attire, his cold eyes scanning her from head to toe with a look of approval. His lips twisted into a smile as he stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

"YN," he said, his voice oily and filled with an unspoken command. "I’ve been expecting you."

She forced a smile, the kind that had become second nature to her over the years, and stepped inside. The moment the door closed behind her, she let her eyes sweep over the space, mentally noting the number of guards positioned throughout the residence. Two at the door, one down the hall, and another at the far end near the staircase. Four in total, and who knew how many more were stationed deeper within.

As Keir's assistant led her through the opulent halls, she continued to assess the situation. Her every move was calculated, her gaze carefully neutral as she noted every possible exit, every point of weakness. She could feel the weight of his stare as he walked beside her, his eyes lingering on her body in a way that made her skin crawl. But she didn’t let it show.

“You’ve been gone for some time,” he remarked, his tone casual but laced with a hidden edge. “I trust you’ve been taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” she replied smoothly, her voice light and flirtatious as she glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “I always take care of myself… and others.”

His eyes darkened at that, his grin widening as they reached the private room at the end of the hall. He opened the door, stepping aside to let her in first, his gaze never leaving her. YN entered, the room dimly lit with the heavy scent of incense hanging in the air. She could feel the tension coiling inside her, but she kept her expression serene, her body language relaxed.

This was the moment she had to begin the distraction.

He closed the door behind them, locking it with a soft click. She heard his footsteps behind her, slow and deliberate, as he approached. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her composure, turning to face him with a coy smile as she took a step closer, allowing her hand to brush his arm lightly.

“Is there anything specific you’d like tonight?” she asked, her voice low and seductive, the way it had been a hundred times before in situations just like this.

He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with lust and control. “I think you know exactly what I like, YN. No need to ask.”

She stepped closer still, her body brushing against his as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. The air between them thickened with tension, the kind she was all too familiar with. But as she leaned in, her eyes flickered over his shoulder, taking in the small movements of the guards outside the room. They were waiting, watching for any disturbance.

Her hands slid up his chest, her touch light as she guided him toward the large bed in the centre of the room. “Then let me take care of you.”

He smirked, his hands moving to grip her waist as he allowed her to push him back toward the bed, his confidence evident in every movement. She could feel the heat of his desire, the way his body responded to her touch, but her mind was elsewhere, focused on the task at hand. Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian were waiting, hidden in the shadows, ready to strike the moment she gave the signal.

But first, she had to get him comfortable, distracted.

She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered something low and sultry, her hands trailing down his chest. He groaned, his grip on her tightening as he allowed her to guide him to the bed, sinking onto the mattress with a satisfied smile.

But even as she played the role of seductress, her mind was sharp, calculating every second. She glanced toward the door, her shadows swirling faintly at the edges of her vision, waiting for her command. She hadn’t revealed her true nature to Azriel, but tonight, she would have to rely on every part of her power to survive.

As she straddled Keir's assistant, her heart raced, not from fear, but from the anticipation of what was to come. She leaned down, pressing her lips to his throat, her hands gripping his shoulders. The guards outside were still standing at attention, unaware of the danger that loomed just beyond the walls.

With a flicker of thought, her shadows began to move, slithering through the cracks beneath the door, heading toward the guards outside. They were small, subtle, barely noticeable in the dim light, but powerful enough to do their job. She felt the assistant shift beneath her, his hands roaming her body, but she ignored the revulsion that crawled up her spine.

Soon, it would be over.

As YN continued to play her role, her mind was spinning with tension. The assistant was beneath her, his hands exploring her body as she went through the motions of seduction. Every touch, every whisper, was mechanical—her thoughts were elsewhere, focusing on the shadows and what was about to unfold. She just needed to keep him distracted long enough for the others to make their move.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the halls downstairs, the sharp sound reverberating through the walls. The assistant jumped, immediately breaking out of his pleasure-driven daze. His eyes flashed with alarm, and he pushed YN off him with a rough shove, scrambling to his feet. The intimacy from moments before shattered as he grabbed a sword off the wall, his hands trembling with rage.

"What the hell was that?!" he barked, his face contorting with fury.

YN quickly sat up on the edge of the bed, feigning shock as her mind raced for a believable explanation. Her heart pounded, but outwardly, she remained composed, calculating. “I— I don’t know! Maybe the guards?” she stammered, watching his every movement.

But the assistant wasn’t listening. He swung the sword in the air, pacing the room like a trapped animal. His gaze snapped to YN, his expression suspicious and accusatory. “Was this your plan?” he snarled, taking a threatening step toward her. “Did you bring someone here?!”

YN’s breath caught in her throat, but she quickly recovered, letting her eyes widen with fear. “No! I swear I didn’t bring anyone!” she insisted, her voice shaking convincingly. “But I think I know who it is. It’s them.”

“Them?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“The Inner Circle,” she whispered, her voice low, letting the term hang in the air. His confusion deepened, so she explained, “They attacked me a few days ago. They must have followed me here. I think they’ve been watching the house.”

He froze for a moment, the suspicion in his eyes replaced by growing paranoia. “Inner Circle?” he repeated, the term unfamiliar. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, and his gaze flicked toward the door as if expecting an attack at any moment.

YN saw the opportunity and ran to grab her jacket, which was thrown on a chair nearby. With trembling hands, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small, carefully concealed knife made of ash wood—the perfect weapon against Fae. She knew exactly what she was doing. But the assistant didn’t. Neither did they.

She handed the knife to him with a sense of urgency. “Here,” she said breathlessly, holding the ash blade out to him. “Take this. You’ll need it. Ash kills Fae. If they’re here, you’ll want to use this.”

The assistant took the knife from her, glancing at it suspiciously before nodding, his face pale with fear. He didn’t know the Inner Circle, but he knew enough about them to believe they were dangerous—and he believed YN. His paranoia had made him easy to manipulate.

YN hid her satisfaction as he clutched the knife, his breathing erratic. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced toward the door, knowing that Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian were making their move downstairs. This was part of her sabotage plan, turning the assistant’s own paranoia against him while subtly weakening his position but give him something strong enough to kill them.

She watched him closely, waiting for the moment when his attention would shift entirely to the looming threat downstairs. He would never suspect her true role in this, and by the time the Inner Circle burst through the door, it would already be too late for him.

YN hid at the side of the bed, her knees tucked tightly to her chest, breathing shallow and controlled as the tension in the room mounted. The assistant was pacing, his sword in one hand, the ash blade in the other. His paranoia was feeding off the sounds of battle and chaos erupting downstairs, each bang and crash making him more unstable.

Her heart raced, but not from fear — from the thrill of knowing how carefully she'd manipulated the situation. She could hear the Bat Boys making their way up the stairs, their heavy footsteps echoing in the hall. She shifted slightly, enough to make her position believable, huddling in the shadows beside the bed. The assistant managed to come back in or at least the part of him that was still functioning but the knife of ash full of blood.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Azriel stormed in, his shadows swirling around him in a dark fury. His eyes scanned the room, locking onto the assistant, then onto YN curled on the floor. His face drained of colour as he saw her huddled form, her body shaking as though in fear.

"YN!" Azriel's voice was filled with panic, and he rushed over to her, kneeling beside her trembling body. He reached out, gently touching her arm as if afraid she might break at his touch. His eyes were wild, scanning her for injuries, his mind racing to understand what had happened.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice raw with concern. His hand moved to cradle her face, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

YN didn’t look at him at first, her breathing shallow, eyes wide as if still in shock. She allowed the silence to hang between them, the weight of the moment pressing down. Azriel's heart clenched seeing her like this. He thought he had failed her—again.

The assistant groaned in the corner, but Azriel’s focus remained entirely on YN, shielding her from any threat. He gently shook her, his hands trembling slightly. “YN, please, say something.”

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes glistening as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, yet cutting through the air with precision.

“This is why I didn’t accept the mating bond.”

Do y'all want a little sequel????

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #az

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erodasfishtacos · 7 months ago

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Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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mochinek0 · 11 months ago

Text

In Sickness and in Health

"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.

"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.

'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'

"Stay after class, please." they replied.

Damian simply nodded.

'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'

"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."

"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.

"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."

"I can do that." Damian accepted.

'At least I can still work by myself.'

Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.

"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.

"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."

"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.

'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'

"Yes." he answered, still unsure.

"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."

Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.

'A door would be better suited.'

Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.

'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'

"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.

"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."

She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.

"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.

'Polite; unexpected.'

"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.

"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.

"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.

"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."

"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.

"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."

'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'

Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"

"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.

Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.

'She calls this functional?'

Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.

'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'

"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.

"I'm emancipated." she smiled.

'She's by herself?'

Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.

"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."

Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.

"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.

'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'

The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.

He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"

"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.

'Guess he really needed to go.'

Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.

"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."

Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.

"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.

'Shit!'

Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.

'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'

Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.

"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.

"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.

Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.

"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.

'Why would he give this to me?'

Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.

"I make my own teas." he replied.

Mari smiled, "Thank you."

Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.

"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."

Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.

"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.

"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"

Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.

"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."

Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.

This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.

'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'

Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.

"You're-" she began.

"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.

"Sorry." Mari whispered.

Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.

"Use it." he demanded.

Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.

'102.5'

"I'm fine." Marinette declared.

"You are far from fine." Damian stated.

Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.

Marinette woke up to the room being dark.

"Damian?" she called out.

She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.

'Sticky note?'

She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.

'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'

Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.

'Gonna need it.'

Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.

'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'

He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.

'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'

Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.

"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"

"I did." he answered.

"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."

"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.

"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."

Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.

"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.

Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"

Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.

"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.

Mari added her contact information and handed it back.

"Sick Girl?" he questioned.

"So you know it's me." Mari answered.

He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.

"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.

"That was all." he said and quickly left.

Marinette closed the door an giggled.

'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'

Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.

'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'

The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.

'Marinette.'

"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."

Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.

"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.

"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.

"He could have been nicer."

"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"

"Lucky bitch."

"I can’t believe she was his partner."

"He probably did it himself, already."

"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."

"I can’t believe he touched her."

"True."

"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."

Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.

"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.

Damian looked at her questioningly.

"For rescuing me." she answered.

"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."

"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."

"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.

"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."

"You were late." he growled.

"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."

Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.

"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.

Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."

"No!" she cried out.

"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"

"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.

He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.

"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.

"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.

"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.

Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"

"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"

"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.

"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."

"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.

"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."

'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'

"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."

"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"

"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.

"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.

"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"

Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.

The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.

'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'

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