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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to Truth or Dare

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Word Count: 5 k

Part 3: READ HERE

So many questions are left on Lt. Riley’s tongue as he finishes another cigarette and leaves the group of officers behind in the rec to make his way back to his quarter, the spectre's touch of your full lips still causing the skin on his mouth to tingle from the sudden lack of all that delicious pressure. There is so much he wants to make clear, even more he wants to do, but where to begin? It’s all so confusing.

As he lays down in his empty bed staring up at the ceiling, struggling to relax his feverish limbs as it still feels like he has been struck by a live wire, he fails to keep his wandering mind focused on his breathing to ignore the gnawing emptiness that is filling his chest from the absence of your presence. That’s when the questions start to roll in.

Did you feel something too? Maybe it was all just an act? Does that even matter if it was?

“No,” Simon mutters to himself through the silence to stop his train of thought from running rampant. He’s allowing himself to get distracted worrying about the unknown and that is something that will only cause more problems, but he is in turmoil.

Unsuccessfully he tosses and turns in the darkness that fills the space, his thoughts drifting back to that feeling of heat from the proximity of your bodies, the residual pressure from your mouth plastered to his, the look of pure lust in your gaze, and the gnawing compulsion of his fingers to get at your curves.

But this isn’t a lover’s island, there is a job to be done here and he has seniority. Maybe it is better to leave this alone where it stands; who knows what disaster could come from getting involved with another officer in such a capacity. And yet…

There is no stopping his mind from wandering ceaselessly back to those breathless moments where his lips fought yours for dominance with the mind-numbing electricity flowing between you, the attraction so strong it did not seem possible for you both to pull from it.

He has a problem and it isn’t going away.

Across base, laying in the dark in your own bed, your heartbeat pounding heavily in your chest, an ache runs its course throughout your limbs. There is a need for something to ease this overwhelming desire to be craved in a desperate, debilitating way, though you really don’t want to admit it. No, you don’t need something…you need someone. You need him.

You hadn’t been ready to admit it then, but there was a spark between you that is no longer possible to ignore now that you are alone, but you don’t know how to handle things any other way than to just ignore and move on; maybe the desire to have him again will die away if you just let it be. Even as the thought enters your mind you know it’s pure bullshit. There is no denying that things became complicated the second your lips met, that it was like igniting gasoline with a blowtorch. What was once mere infatuation that you could handle, has now grown into an untamed beast inside that leaves you feeling delirious and out of control.

Rolling onto your side, you convince yourself to leave all these questions alone and focus on something else, anything to get your mind off of what you would be doing with the lieutenant at this moment if you both had not been interrupted. As you close your eyes to force sleep to come, visions of a bare and glistening officer thrusting between your legs fills your subconscious and you hope the morning comes soon enough because sleep is going to be short tonight.

Luckily, life around base rarely stands still long enough for anything other than work to get tended to. Any hopes of exploring that tension and ecstasy has to be put on the back burner as life in the taskforce resumes its usual chaos. Daily operations keep your schedule packed completely full all week so that certain thoughts get pushed to the back of your mind. And yet, during those slower moments of the day, they come creeping back up just like they never left.

“ ‘ello?” Soap says as he waves his hand in front of your blank face. “Ye in there, lass?”

Your fork hangs limply from your hand, teetering over your plate lunch and threatening to fall with a clatter as you realize that you drifted off again. This is the third time this week that you have gotten so lost in thought trying to recall that feeling of the lieutenant’s lips that it’s becoming apparent to your fellow sergeant that something is off. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to clear your mind.

“What?” you shoot back at him as you stab the food and push it around the plate, pretending to eat even though you aren’t hungry.

“I’ve been talkin’ for a good five minutes and ye ain’t heard a word,” he says with a hint of agitation. His steady glare gives you the once over as he tries to read your face. “Where ye at these last few days, hmm?”

You mask your face behind your customary smile. “Maybe I’m just trying to imagine a more engaging conversation than the one I’m currently in,” you pick, but Johnny isn’t letting this drop.

His eyes are still on you, scrutinizing your body language even as you stare down into your food to avoid his gaze. From the corner of your eye you can see the gears turning in that mind of his as if he is trying to put things together. You let it go on a few more seconds before you speak up.

“You got a problem or something?”

“It’s just strange,” he chuckles and you raise an eyebrow as you tilt your head to the side. “It’s just…I was speakin’ to Gaz yesterday and he mentioned that the lieutenant seems…distracted…as well lately. Same vacant look ye got goin’ on. Ye wouldn’t happen ta know why, would ye?”

Your heart leaps with a strong thud in your chest. Just what the hell is he implying? You had been certain that Johnny knew nothing, but now you aren’t so sure. Maybe you aren’t being as convincing as you think. “Why the fuck would I know that?” you play it off as you swallow down the lump in your throat. “Do I just know everything that goes on with everyone around here? I’ve got enough on my mind then to worry about the rest of you lot.”

Johnny leans in a bit closer over his plate and lowers his voice as he says the next part, making your blood run cold. “Must be a coincidence then, that both a ye just happen ta be actin’ different at the same time, ay? Ye know, on account a tha other night.”

The heel of your boot immediately connects with his foot only hard enough to make him yelp and pop back upright in surprise. You always forget that Johnny is smarter than he lets on and it’s clear he has been paying attention. Too bad you will never give him the satisfaction of admitting anything. With a laugh he sits back in his seat as you stare him down before rolling your eyes.

“Why are you so worried about the lieutenant? Seems like someone’s a bit too obsessed and that can be a problem. You should probably talk to someone about that.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever ye say, lass,” he says, punctuating it with another chuckle as he tucks back into his lunch. “Whatever ye say.”

Firearms and ammunition is on the schedule for the rest of your day. It is your job to take inventory of all the munitions you’ll need for tomorrow’s end of week training. At least the repetitious task will keep you busy enough that hopefully you won’t be thinking about a certain lieutenant and what he could be up to right now.

At least that is the plan that you start with, but just as every other day this week soon that hulking officer begins to creep his way into your mind. Has Johnny been lying about how distracted the lieutenant seems lately? Could it be about what happened the other night or could it be something that has nothing to do with you? Little by little, it chips away at your calm until that is all you can focus on, even as you try and get through counting and gathering all the materials you’ll be needing for tomorrow.

There is no way for you to know, but at that exact moment there is someone coming your way with a burning question that needs answering.

All week Lt. Riley has gone about his days as usual, except try as he might to focus only on the tasks given to him, all he can do is mull over the same question in his mind: did you feel something in the kiss the way he did? It is eating him alive to know the answer and no matter where he is, who is speaking with, or what he is doing, the question is there to make him restless.

Until finally he has had enough. Just as the question overwhelms his mind again he throws down the work on his desk, shoves his chair back to get out, and leaves his office in a flurry. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but as he walks he passes by Captain Price’s office, the one person that would know where you are stationed today. Quickly he steps inside the doorway to ask.

Price checks his computer screen that has all that information already pulled up. “She has firearm trainin’ tomorrow with the newer recruits, so she will be takin’ inventory in munitions today,” the captain relays the information, curious as to why his lieutenant seems tense and sounds a little out of breath.

Before the captain can ask any more probing questions or mention to his officer that he will need to speak with him in a bit, the lieutenant heads off in a rush towards the munitions depot. No matter, the captain will let him conduct his business with you and send a messenger in a bit to bring him back.

Lt. Riley crosses the base with nothing else on his mind but to get to you and when he does he finds you are completely lost in your work, none the wiser that you aren’t alone anymore until it’s too late. You don’t hear that signature click that means the main door is opening, nor the careful, but heavily booted footsteps padding across the floor in your direction. Just a few feet from you he stops and stares silently, waiting to see if you notice his presence.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel a pair of eyes on you and looking up you come face to face with the person that was just on your mind. You can’t stop the way you hold your breath the moment your eyes connect as every involuntary process in your body gets interrupted by his sudden appearance. Desperately you try to regain composure and shake off that initial surprise; there is no need to make this awkward, it will only make things worse for yourself in the long run.

Clearing your throat, you shoot him a smile. “Sir,” you greet him with a nod and a slight tremor in your voice that you quickly swallow back down. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. Did you need something?”

The adrenaline makes your limbs tingle and instead of just standing there awkwardly as you wait for him to respond, you put your hands back to the task before you hoping to cause your nervousness to settle. If you have to stand looking into his face in the stillness of the room for much longer, you might combust and the risk of looking like a fool is enough to make you act out being too busy to give him your full attention.

Standing this close with the lingering feelings from the reaction that happened the last time you were together, the lieutenant is overwhelmed and it makes him pause. That same magnetism that he had felt that night is already pulling him to you, until his composure falls apart faster than he can calm it. Still, there is a question on the tip of his tongue that he is choking to ask; it’s the whole reason he’s here and he’s not leaving without an answer no matter what.

“I need ya to stop and look at me,” he says as he steps in towards you. You discreetly take a deep breath as you set your things down to turn your face back to look up at him.

He’s already scrutinizing your body language, focusing on any sign that might give him an idea of where your thoughts are at this moment. Those brown eyes catch how tense your shoulders are through your t-shirt, how your pupils seem dilated as you meet his gaze, and finally the way your hands tremble as they hang at your sides.

“I want ya to tell me the truth, yeah?” he says with a nod.

You stare back at him, big doe-eyes sparkling in the overhead lights as your pulse runs fiery hot through your limbs with the growing anxiety from wondering what the hell is going on. “Yes, sir?”

The mask covering his face clings a little too tightly and the clothing on his chest traps in the heat rising in his body, making his skin clammy as he struggles to vocalize that loaded question he’s had swirling in his mind for days. Lt. Riley clears his throat; he thought he’d come up with something better than this, but thinking clearly has long gone now. All he can do is just spit it out.

“Mactavish’s stupid fuckin’ dare, ya remember it? I keep thinkin’ ‘bout it and I need ya to tell me somethin’: was it all an act, the way we kissed?”

Fuck, how are you supposed to answer this?

There is warmth blossoming in your cheeks as the thumping grows stronger in your chest. His question is simple enough, yet there isn’t a simple way for you to answer. Tell the truth? Could you actually go through with something that risky? For all you know he could be asking just to tell you that the kiss is to mean nothing because it will never happen again, that he wants you to let it all go to clear the air of any misconceptions. You pray that that is not what he’s about to say, but as you silently think about how to answer, he pushes for you to stop avoiding the question.

“I need ya to answer me,” he says firmly, eyes never leaving yours. “Were ya pretendin’ or did ya not want it to fuckin’ end?”

A sharp inhale of air does nothing in helping to calm your nerves; you just have to get on with it. “I-it…wasn’t an act,” you say.

The lieutenant has his answer, that’s what he wanted, right? Just to hear you say that the spark ignited between you in those few ecstasy-fueled minutes were genuine; that is it, isn’t it? His curiosity is sated and he should be able to move on, but he can’t. With your confession comes something more, something that he can’t let go of, and that is now that he knows it was real he wants it again. It consumes him to the point that he cannot move away and instead steps in closer as he grabs your biceps, forcing you to move backwards until you find yourself against the wall directly behind you.

“Sir?” you ask to get his attention as he continues to stand there staring intensely into your face without so much as a sound. You hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by his presence since the night you two kissed, but now it is back to cloud your mind and set your pulse pounding through your limbs.

Your furrow-browed stare wavers as you clear your throat and repeat your question again. “Sir?”

Consequences are an inconceivable concept right now; the only thing playing in his mind are how fucking soft your lips look and how he desperately wants to get lost in them again. The sensations of reliving that experience from that night in the rec consumes every molecule in his body until there is nothing left inside him except for you.

He needs it, he needs it now, and as that deep, longing ache settles itself in his chest to cause his heart to pound so hard that he can hear the beat in his ears, he throws sensibility away as he moves to grab your hips firmly in his gloved hands.

“We really shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, his body pressing against yours as he draws you in. “Ya know it’s trouble.”

His actions don’t match his words and the contradiction causes your mind to falter on what you should do. Did he want this to end or not? Does he even really know?

“Do you want to stop, sir?” you ask timidly as your body begins to vibrate with the sudden, intense pleasure of his hands as they are back on you again. “You know we can just forget it; it’s really fine.”

One of his hands leaves the curve of your hip and travels upwards so that those long, covered fingers can string themselves through the strands of hair at the back of your head. “Who said I wanted ta forget, hmm?” he admits with his eyes firmly on your lips, watching as they part slightly so you can take quick, short breaths in and out. “Do ya think I wasn’t there, that I didn’t feel what was happenin’ between us that night? Ya think I could just forget all that? Do ya think I want to?”

His gloved thumb wraps around your face so that he can brush it over your bottom lip, letting the electricity pass through the fabric from his fingertips into your mouth. You gasp from the ache his touch leaves behind and he exhales heavily at your reaction. “Do ya know the fuckin’ power ya have over me after that? Shit, I’m riskin’ a lot just ta be here like this with ya again, knowing what could happen when we’re alone. All because ‘a one fuckin’ kiss.”

You swear if he doesn’t do something soon you are going to pass out; your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable. Only a small swatch of fabric covering his face keeps you both apart and yet you can still sense the heated air from his mouth as it sweeps across the delicate skin of your lips the closer he lowers his head.

He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves you to the point of insanity right now. No, if he was going to stop it should have been long before now. As his hands cling to your body, there isn’t any chance that he is going to let you get away. He needs you, he has to have you, and it has to be right this fucking second to ease the painful longing that has kept him up all week.

Lt. Riley is gone; in his place is a depraved being that only yearns to feel that overwhelming passion that you gave him once again.

“I need more of the way it felt,” he groans adamantly. “I need ya, now.”

Before you can properly react to his heart-stopping statement, the lieutenant frantically wrenches his mask up and completely off his face, not wanting to be hindered at all from you anymore. All you catch is a crown of short blonde hair as he lets the cloth fall to the floor, closes his eyes, and leans in without another word to harshly smash his juicy lips together with yours in a reckless abandon that makes your knees buckle.

Fucking hell it’s everything that he remembered and so much more; you taste like the best type of sin and he is ready to pay everything for it.

The force of his advance shoves your head backward into the wall as he takes your mouth with dizzying harshness, not hesitating to shove in his tongue to fill the cavity behind your lips to capacity. The tip of that wet muscle strokes across the roof of your mouth and the sensation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. If there was any doubt left in your mind, it has all dissipated now that his mouth is back on yours.

“Stop callin’ me sir. Say my name,” he forcefully demands in that husky, breathless tone, a yearning in his voice that makes your soul burn as he speaks those desperate words onto your skin. “Call me Simon.”

You break from his mouth, your lips instantly desperate to form the word and say it aloud. “Simon,” you moan and it breathes new life into his name that he could never have predicted he needed.

Pining you tighter to the wall, he overtakes you rougher and rougher until the harshness of his movements abrades the skin of your mouth to make it swell and bruise. Relentlessly he siphones the breath from you to keep him going. That moist air fills his mouth so that he can speak. “Say it again,” he orders in a growl.

It’s like honey as it rolls off your tongue and you can’t help but want to repeat it. “Mmm, Simon,” you whimper onto his mouth and goddamn the euphoria of having to swallow down the desperation in your voice suddenly awakens an insatiable ache that will need more to quench.

His gloves have to go, now, as his bare hands are burning to get their fill of your curves. Those thin pieces of fabric are hindering him from being able to connect with all that silky skin so that he can know what it feels like against his calloused palms. It is torment to be kept from all that ecstasy. Struggling to peel them off his fingers as he cannot pry his mouth away from yours at all, he finally frees those long, brawny digits and they waste no time in pawing wildly at your body.

Greedy fingers recklessly claw and tear at your clothing, searching for an opening where he can penetrate to find enough balmy skin available to fill his hands until he cannot hold anymore. Deliriously and without looking he rips the pieces of your uniform up until he can get underneath them and let his fingertips get that first touch he has craved nonstop since the second he had pulled away from you that night. Those hungry lips continue to overwhelm your own as Simon is able to grab the hem and his hands have finally found their prize.

Laborious panting breaths fill up the space between you as the roughness of his hands grip into your hips and square them up against his own, pelvis’ grinding together in search of as much friction as they can find. Only a few layers of clothing keep your bodies apart, but that doesn’t stop Simon from rutting against you and you matching his movements. There is nothing else inside your head except the overwhelming euphoria of his touch along the lines of your body and the growing bulge in his pants that drills into you harder and harder the more it grows.

No immediate danger is there to keep you both tame, no time limit looms over your heads that will force you to stop, and when two desperate things have nothing to lose, they simply let go.

Every single one of his senses is overflowing with all of you: the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your sweet breath in his mouth, the warmth of your skin brushing over his, the beat of your heart that he can feel through his fingertips, the sound of your quiet whimpers making his head spin. Goddammit you are eager, so willing to meet his advancements with everything you have; there is no question about what you want. And he cannot lie that he wants it too. You’ve both started down this path and there is no turning back; he knows it’s wrong, he knows he should stop, but he won’t.

You are in his veins, circling inside his mind, part of the very air he breathes; whatever risk comes with this could never outweigh the reward of getting to sate the hunger that has been driving him insane.

“Fuck it all,” he growls and suddenly his hands are under your arms and you are being hoisted up off the ground.

Your body reacts from pure instinct by spreading your legs wide and wrapping them around his broad hips, securing yourself to him with a clench of your thighs together. Simon knocks a gasp out of you as he slams your back up against the wall to use it for leverage, his body crushing yours as he begins to grind up into you with that throbbing, engorged cock that is straining to break the zipper of his pants.

Through your clothes he thrusts up into you with powerful strikes, hips rolling into yours over and over with desperation as he tries to get just a little bit more friction between your bodies. You use your thighs to help push yourself up off of him, bouncing over his crotch in response to mimic the way you’d fuck him.

Simon knows he shouldn’t go any further, that he should slow things down because this isn’t the place, but he won’t. Everything is already so close, but still not close enough. He needs the real thing, not this cheap imitation. Even in the haze of this delirious union, there is only one thing he knows he has to do.

He has to get you both naked.

Feverish fingers claw into the negative space between your bodies at the bottom of your shirt until Simon can find the hem. The cooler air outside of your clothing hits your skin with a tingle to make goosebumps appear as he pulls it up off your stomach and over the swell of your breasts.

“Lift up your arms,” he says quickly and your eyes flutter open so that you can follow the demand.

In one swift motion the shirt is off and Simon doesn’t waste any time in ripping off his shirt as well. The feeling of skin to skin sends shivers of ecstasy down his spine as he presses against you. So soft, so warm, fucking hell is he in over his head. He leans in, bending forward so that he can kiss the tops of your breasts through your bra as he hands wander again between your bodies to the clasp on your pants.

Just as his fingers loop through the waistband, you hear the tail end of it. There is no mistaking it, it’s the signature sound of the door to the armory closing shut. You have no time to act as a private with a message from Captain Price enters in a hurry, not paying attention, and stumbles upon something he shouldn’t have under no fault of his own.

“Lt. Riley, Price needs to see y–” the messenger says as he finally looks up, immediately stopping dead in his tracks as his cheeks flush bright red at coming face to face with the two of you half naked and twined together.

The private is tripping over his words as an exasperated growl shuts him right up. “Outside; now,” Simon barks harshly through a heavy pant as he turns his head enough to lock eyes with the now terrified private. Quickly the young man turns tail and bolts for the door, stumbling over his feet to get out as fast as he physically can. Once the click from the door closing shut is heard, those brown eyes turn back to you.

Simon draws in a deep breath before his head falls forward to rest up against yours, foreheads pressed together as he just holds onto you for a moment. “Goddammit,” he curses under his breath in disappointment.

Carefully he untangles his body from yours and sets you back down onto your feet. “Times up,” he repeats the phrase that ended your encounter the last time, though his tone is markedly more miserable this time, and you can’t help the way your stomach knots tightly.

Simon grabs all your clothing back up off the ground, handing you your shirt back as he goes to put his own back on. You immediately redress and straighten your uniform as best you can with your unsteady hands. Everything gets tucked back in place once again as you wait for him to head out without a word, since this seems to be following a certain pattern now.

But instead of simply walking away leaving you to agonize about if you will ever get a chance like this again, his arm reaches out and those long gloved fingers wrap around your belt buckle, gripping it tight in his hand so that he can drag you back against him. The other hand finds its way under your chin to force you to maintain eye contact with him; he needs you to hear him and make no mistake about what he is saying.

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs as he guides your head forward to place one last, lingering kiss on your lips before he breaks away to situate his mask back down over his face.

With that he turns and heads outside to the private patiently waiting to finish giving him the message from the captain. You let your eyes follow him the entire way out the door and only when he’s gone do you finally release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

This isn’t over. The words repeat on a loop in your mind. Fuck, you sure hope so.

Now the question is: when?

Tagging: @spooky-pomegranate

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pure-smut · 5 months ago

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feral.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo

“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”

Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.

“What?”

“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”

Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.

“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.

“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.

The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.

“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”

You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.

“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”

A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.

“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.

He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.

Until you interrupt his plans again.

Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.

He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.

Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.

You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.

You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.

“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.

Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.

Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.

He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.

Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.

Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.

Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.

He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”

A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.

It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.

But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.

“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sukuna!”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.

Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.

As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.

His forever.

It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.

He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.

“’Kuna…?”

Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.

You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.

“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”

“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”

Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.

Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.

The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.

If you only knew.

You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.

Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.

Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”

He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.

You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.

Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”

Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.

“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.

You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.

True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.

Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.

You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.

You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.

You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.

You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.

You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.

You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.

Your smirk to yourself.

If only he knew.

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daydreams-after-dark · 4 months ago

Text

Good things come in small packages Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 7.4 k

A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.

I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.

CW below the cut

C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?

Previously:

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

------------

Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.

"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.

You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.

Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?

"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.

"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.

"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.

He's real.

"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."

You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”

Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.

----------

"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.

While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.

"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?

"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"

"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"

Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"

You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."

“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.

"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.

————

Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.

It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.

A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.

He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.

"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"

He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.

"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.

His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?

"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.

His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth.

He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.

He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.

Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.

“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You smirk. “You do, huh?”

“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.

You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.

This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.

Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.

His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.

“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice.

He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide.

“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.

“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it.

He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.

Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.

Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.

He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.

He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.

He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.

“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.

“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek.

Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.

He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you.

“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…”

All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you.

“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”

“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief.

“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.

He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.

“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.

“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.

“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!”

—-----------

The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.

-----------

The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.

You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.

You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.

"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.

"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft.

He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.

You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.

“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs.

Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need.

Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.

As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips.

Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.

“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.

“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.

“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”

You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.

-----------

"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are gender neutral.

"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door. You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.

“”What would you like to do, Hannie?”

“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home.

Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.

“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.

“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.

He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.

“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.

The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.

"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.

"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.

The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."

That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.

"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.

Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.

Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.

The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.

Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.

"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.

----------

"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.

"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.

"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?

"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.

You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.

"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.

"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.

---------------

Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent.

After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.

He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance.

Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.

He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?

“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.”

Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you.

He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.

“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe.

“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.

“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.

He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”

It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.

“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.

You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.

You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you.

Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.

---------

You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either.

-------------

You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.

You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.

"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.

"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.

The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.

"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.

--------------

Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.

Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.

Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.

--------------

Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.

It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.

For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.

Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.

The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.

You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.

-------------------

You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.

You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.

“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.

Nothing.

He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?

Again, nothing.

He really was gone.

—-----------

Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?

He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.

Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.

He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.

By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.

He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.

He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.

He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?

Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.

“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.

“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.

“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.

“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.

“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”

Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.

Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.

Fuck! He freezes to the spot.

The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.

“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.

Han crosses his arm and pouts.

“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.

“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”

“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”

“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.

“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.

“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.

“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.

“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.

Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”

“Just on a year.” He replies.

Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.

“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”

—-----------

Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.

Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.

The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.

“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.

You continue to stand there, saying nothing.

Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.

“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.

“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.

A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.

————-

You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.

“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.

“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.

Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”

Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”

“Hi.” He waves.

“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.

You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”

“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.

“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.

“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.

“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.

“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.

“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.

“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.

“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”

“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.

The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.

“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”

“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.

You shake your head.

“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”

“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.

“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.

“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”

“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual. I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.”

“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”

“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.

“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.

“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”

“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.

Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.

Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.

Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.

—————-

A little update on our y/n and Hannie:

Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.

You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.

He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.

------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.

If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.

Sorsha x.

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@kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @katsukis1wife @jeonginsleftcheek @ihrtlino @ivydoesit23 @gnab-nahc @skzstan12345 @youcanstayyeah @binnieonabike @hanniemylovelyquokka @moasworld @binniesbabe @courtnort455 @yongbokkiesworld @felixleftchickennugget @bangchans-angel @heerinnie @meilix

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife

#skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #sorshas fics

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year ago

Text

How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child.

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine.

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open.

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word.

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

…

...

By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend?

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.”

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies.

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up.

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison.

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place.

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

...

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.

#twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twst grim #lilia vanrouge #deuce spade #ace trappola #there will be more x reader stuff in future chapters #soooo #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #loosely inspired off of labyrinth and some other fae media; but very loosely #majority of this should be original with some tie ins from the movie #i wrote like 9 K in may for this idea and haven't touched it since; it took me like a week to rewrite this 4.6 K and i deleted some stuff #don't be precious; delete your art (from drawfee)#the length of this may be dictated from how much traction and interaction it gets #gilf enjoyers rejoice #twst labyrinth au #<- kinda but not really; we shall see #to clarrify; there is nothing in the brownies; the brownies are just run of the mill brownies #will be making a masterlist for this series; just so i don't break diasomnia's sooner than the others #there's also going to be a break in fic updates in october; but more on that later #btw everything grim did; my cats have done; the 'bat' was a mouse though and not lilia vanrouge from twisted wonderland #also labyrinth gave me nightmares as a child cuz i was terrified of puppets; and i had the same reaction as adeuce at his pants #first time posting a multi-chapter fic; let's see how this goes

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holylulusworld · 26 days ago

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Two Souls - A Christmas snippet

Summary: Bucky Barnes and the winter soldier are your mate. Life with them is easy cause none of them would ever let anyone hurt you.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Winter Soldier (Barnie/Winter) x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, fluff, true mates, protective Bucky/Winter Soldier, pregnant omega

A/N: Before part 3 finally drops, we are getting a little Christmas snippet.

Catch up here: Two Souls (2) - One Love

Bucky watches you with worry. Like Barnie, he is constantly concerned about you. Not only because you’re carrying their babies.

“She’s in the kitchen for too long. We should stop her from stressing over baking cookies.”

Barnie nods thoughtfully. He knows how much baking cookies means to you. You love Christmas, and expecting two babies with the alphas you love, made you even more nostalgic.

You want to indulge in all the traditions you loved as a child: baking cookies, decorating the house, listening to the most awful Christmas songs, and cooking for your family.

“We will help her,” Barnie finally says. He was watching you with fascination. It will be the first Christmas he can celebrate as his own person, not hidden in the back of Bucky’s mind. “I want to make cookies.”

He walks into the kitchen to look at the dough you rolled out.

“What’s this?” Barnie points at the snowman cookie cutter. “It looks like a—” He frowns while trying to find the right word. He still has problems finding the right words sometimes. It will take more time to learn all the things he missed out on while being trapped in Bucky’s mind.

“Snowman, alpha,” you softly say and grab his hand to place the cookie cutter in the palm of his hand. “See, this will turn the cookies into a cute snowman.”

“Snowman,” he repeats the word, smiling. “I like snowmen…I think. They are made of snow and only live in winter. I was Winter too…”

“Yeah,” you chuckle as Barnie looks at you like a puppy. “You were Winter too, Barnie. You still are.”

He grins now. “Winter is here to stay.”

“Alright kids,” Bucky walks into the kitchen, feeling left out. He stands to your left, while Barnie stands to your right, still looking at all the cookie cutters. “What are we making? Did you sit enough today and have a rest?”

“I sat the whole morning, Bucky,” you giggle, and throw some flour at him. “I’m fine, really. No pain, no exhaustion. I know my body. The babies sleep right now, and I want to finish the cookies.”

“We will help,” he says and grabs one of the cutters. Your alpha chuckles because the cutter looks like a tiny version of his metal arm. “Uh—is that my metal arm?” Bucky furrows his brows and looks at you.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “It’s a custom-made cookie cutter. Tony made them all for me.”

“A snowflake,” Barnie sounds like an excited child while holding the cutter in his hand. It looks like a wonder to him, and he feels his heart flutter. “That’s me, right?” He looks at you. “I’m Winter, and that’s a winter cookie cutter.”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. “I know you have a new name now, but the snowflake reminded me of you and the time we spent together when you were still Winter, Barnie.”

“I like it,” he presses the snowflake to his chest, smiling at Bucky. “I got my own cookie cutter.”

“Me too, punk,” Bucky laughs. “How about we cut those cookies with our cookie cutters? I bet I can cut more cookies than you in a minute.”

Barnie purses his lips and says, “I can cut more.”

You sigh deeply. “Alphas, no competition again! We want to enjoy baking cookies.” You give both alphas a stern look.

Both kiss one cheek to calm you. Giggling, you watch them choose their favorite cutter. Barnie goes for the snowflakes while Bucky chooses the tiny version of his metal arm.

“No competition, Barnie. Let’s bake cookies with our omega. Later, we can rub her feet and feed her with the cookies.”

Barnie nods eagerly. He cannot wait to rub your belly and feel the babies kick him.

“Winter will talk to the babies again. They need to know we are here to protect them.”

Tags in reblog.

#winter soldier #a/b/o #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #tw: pregnancy #winter soldier x reader #Two Souls - A Christmas snippet

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 4/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Word count: 10 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Another long chapter, but it's the last one, so... Enjoy! ^^

The next night, you dream awake.

You didn’t want to sleep with your back turned against him, and König didn’t even need to scoop you into his arms. You went there by yourself, completely willingly. You were disappointed when he didn’t even try anything; he just fell asleep like a baby after the hangover that left him weak.

Your hand is on his chest, right over his heart, as you listen to his soft snore. It’s like the whole world has shrunk into this bed, like your entire life suddenly consists of him. You can’t even hear the birds, the occasional gust of wind, or the pair of sandals outside the tent going to a nightly pee. The only thing you can hear or see or feel is him.

His heart under your palm. His chest against your cheek. The slow, steady rise and fall of it, the push and pull of it like a tide. His leg, draped across your hip, enclosing you under a heavy body that clings to you like he never wants to let you go.

And…

No.

It’s too stupid.

“Love” is something bards sing about. There’s no time for it in the real world; lust brings people together, and they multiply like birds and beasts. They simply flock together for warmth, food and survival. Love is the property of dreams and songs, something that happened at the dawn of time but now only occurs in tales and plays. Surely, a mountain giant knows nothing about love… He just wants to stuff his cock inside you and alleviate the burn of his loins.

But his words still linger.

”I have fallen in love with you.”

You repeat them over and over again in your head, snuggling even closer to him, your heart flaring into a small bonfire when he squeezes you in return through sleep. The warmth spreads across your chest, it makes your toes tingle, and the tingles rise up to your head like ale, bringing tears to your eyes.

Why does he have to be like this…?

There’s a sudden crack of thunder outside, and it makes you startle and clutch him tighter. It’s soon followed by a downpour of rain, the weight of it like a blanket spreading across the land. The drops beat the tent with so much noise you fear the whole abode will collapse from the force of them.

Another crackle sends you to grip him with fear; a violent rip of lightning makes you bury your head in his neck. König mostly wakes up to your distress rather than the sounds of thunder and hail, rumbling softly to the crown of your head and drawing you closer to him. You’ve always been afraid of thunder because nothing can compete with the fury of the Sky Father. You whimper as another roar shakes the bed, the very earth beneath you, and the rain begins to beat the tent in full.

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” König mutters, unafraid and clearly about to fall back to sleep again. “Only sky father making love to his woman...”

His explanation of the horrible display of the sky god’s power wipes your mind blank for a moment. He uses the same name of the god as you, but the viewpoint is thoroughly foreign. Is this the sound of lovemaking to him?

“Safe here,” he squishes you against him until it’s difficult to breathe. Your heart is still beating in your chest as König falls asleep, the arms around you relaxing just enough to allow you to breathe again.

In the morning, you try to correct him on his strange thoughts about Sky Father. You tell him your people believe he’s fighting his enemies when it thunders, not… making love to anyone.

“Fighting or fucking,” he only shrugs. “Same noise.”

You open your mouth to explain the difference between fucking and lovemaking next, then decide it’s no use.

The weather is warm and the land is lush after the abundant rain. König takes you to a small stream and you risk to take a dip, delighted and relieved to have the opportunity for a quick wash. When you threaten to gut him when he sleeps if he takes a peek, König only laughs. Probably thinks it’s an exciting threat. Then he sits on the bank to work on a small piece of wood while you have your cold bath. He’s been carving it for a few days and has refused to show it to you, no matter how “nosy” you’ve been. It’s an unfinished piece, yes, but it still feels silly that a grown man is so secretive about a chunk of wood. You only now begin to understand that perhaps the statue of the Great Mother is not stolen. It’s not bought, and he hasn’t had it made. He carved it himself.

Shocked, you forget to keep an eye on him while you scrub and rub yourself in the stream. You never thought of him as a sculptor or even a carpenter, but apparently, some soldiers spend their leisure time in other activities than fucking and drinking and gambling.

Your hands meet the leather string of the necklace as you wash your hair, and you remember your vow. It makes your heart sink: it’s a beautiful day, the first of summer, and you have to let go of the loveliest thing König has ever given to you. You peek a glance at him: he’s looking so peaceful while carving the small figurine, with that signature smile his that always reveals itself through his eyes, warm and jovial, like he’s just a hunter or a fisherman having a break from a day of toil.

You strip yourself from the necklace and release it with a sullen breath. The spirits accept it hungrily, pulling it underwater the instant you let it go. The current carries it far away downstream, and you find your chin trembling, and not from cold. You have given your moonblood to Mother many, many times, but this gift is infinitely more valuable. Still, the most important thing is that the man you prayed for is alive and whistling happily on that bank.

And you’re not an oathbreaker… But König is.

When you rise from the water, he steals a glance. Actually, he stares at you like you’ve particularly asked him to never rip his eyes from you.

You pay the adoring beast no mind and rise from the stream with the pride of a queen, only to have it all robbed from you as you notice there are flowers placed there where you left your clothes. The crazy giant has actually plucked flowers for you.

It’s an odd thing to do because in your land, only children pick flowers. Usually, people give flowers to the gods. Or, mainly just to the Great Mother... It’s because She appreciates them.

And you also notice your old dress is not where you left it.

“Where is it?”

He extends his hands to the sides and shrugs, faking innocence so poorly that you don’t know if you want to shove or kiss him. You’re desperately trying to cover your womanhood from his searing stare – an attempt that, of course, makes your tits press together even more cutely than before. König doesn’t even know where to look when there’s so much of your sweetness on display.

This man is so stupid and childish and simply unbelievable; hiding your dress the instant you are vulnerable and in your thoughts. You look around you, then up, and notice that he’s thrown the dress over a pine branch far above your reach. Of course.

“You’re a bully,” you turn your accusing gaze to him, hands now slowly curling into fists by your side. You’re not even angry: you’re just feeling... hot, and frustrated, and embarrassed, having to stand here in bright daylight, dripping wet and about to have another tantrum while naked. You’re starting to suspect that he probably enjoys it when you get in a pet. Maybe it makes his cock hard: to watch you stomp your foot at him, especially if you do it without clothes.

“Bully?” His eyes smile at you like he’s the son of Sky Father himself.

“It’s someone who… who tortures people,” you blurt, a bit more dramatically than you initially meant to. He bursts into laughter and laughs for a long time, either because you just called him precisely what he is or because you called him a torturer for doing a silly prank.

“Ach… Well, you are pretty,” he says after surviving something that was veritably not meant as a joke. As if you being pretty is some kind of an excuse for doing this stupid, childish stunt...

His stare sweeps over you like you’re merely property, his eyes darting between your pouty face and the glistening sex between your legs now that you’ve blessedly moved your hands out of the way. Then he notices that something’s missing, that there is no necklace resting above your breasts anymore. He takes a step and raises a hand, and for the first time ever, you wouldn’t even dream of shying away from his touch. He brushes your bare neck with a silent question and brief hurt in his eyes.

Gods, he can’t think you got rid of it because you despised it, can he...?

“The river took it,” you explain quickly and with genuine regret. It’s a lie, but you can’t tell him the real reason it’s gone. You can’t confess that you had to sacrifice it for his safe return.

“I really liked it,” you whisper while looking him straight in the eyes, stomach heavy with both lies and the horrible, sweet truth. König recuperates surprisingly fast and nods slowly, the caress rising to your cheek to console you.

“Don’t worry. I can make you a new one,” he promises stoutly, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into tears right there in front of him. “With wolf claws, if you like?”

“I don’t know… Sounds dangerous.”

“Hah. I kill my first wolf when I was fifteen.”

Your heart is bursting inside your chest – the songs of the bards never tell about someone being so goofy that you want to hug them until they stop speaking silly things.

“I’m sure you did,” your lips quiver with a whisper of a smile. König takes in every crumb of your affection like it’s a blessing from the Mother below: his shoulders draw back everytime he senses you are appreciative of him or admire his strength. He’s even more proud when he presents the small carving he’s been working on.

You’re now absolutely, vehemently sure that he has made the statue of the Great Mother himself. Because what you’re looking at is very similar to that statue, only far more detailed. The breasts and hips on this figurine are more proportional, and you could almost swear that the statue he just gave you is trying to depict you. It has your hair and your face, or then he has tried to capture the slightly pouting face of some other ungrateful woman. But you can’t shake the thought that you may very well be looking into your own eyes.

“For you,” he says above you, and you swallow tears for gods know how many times today. He even winks at you, incredibly playful, like this statue is now a cute little secret only you two know about.

“It’s–I didn’t know you… Uh. Thank you,” you stutter like a fool. You can’t ask if it’s you – you can’t ask a simple question because to hear his unabashed, proud answer would mean that you won’t be able to hold yourself back from kissing him.

You are starting to feel like… an idol of worship, almost.

He lavishes you with gifts and flowers, he feeds you grapes and wine, he brings you his bloodied loot and asks you to bless his sword. He honours your purity and respects your wishes not to be touched and pilfered.

What else are you if not a goddess?

Even the Mother in his satchel doesn’t get such fevered attention. He even carved a new statue for you. Of you.

Your senses become eagle-sharp as you realize just how much your suspicions are proving true. You think about the way he is always at your tits, as if calling forth good luck and abundance when he squeezes them every day and night. It’s almost like a ritual. Or how he tries to dress you in fine clothes, not just to show you around, but to make you feel appreciated. The way he protects and shelters you and lets you – no, demands you to – ride his horse while he exhausts himself on the road. How the selecting of the necklace now seems like a test, to prove whether you are a true goddess who favors a gift of bone and blood and amber over the pathetic shiny trinkets of men.

And the way he hasn’t touched other women all this time; no, because he doesn’t keep other goddesses...

Just you.

Only you.

…

He knows your tongue so well that you don’t practically need the translator anymore. König sends him away after you whisper in his ear that you don’t like him.

It’s another lie because what you really don’t like is how bothered he looks when forced into the company of you two. You don’t like the deep sighs and the weary looks he gives both you and your supposed lover who always insists that you sit on his lap even if there are other people in the tent. You don’t want to make the poor man uncomfortable, so you come up with a reason for König to send him away. It's quite apparent that you could ask for the moon and stars, and he’d figure out a way to give them to you.

When you ask him why, for the love of all the gods, does he even want to keep a Roman slave, he says it amuses him. You always thought it was an odd thing to do because you’ve never seen König spend time with his soldiers. He never gambles with them, never eats with them, never hunts with them. By separating himself from them he keeps up an illusion of himself as a walking, fighting myth who has forced half the world to its knees, and whose quirks are to keep a Roman slave and, now, a foreign fairy in his tent.

You start to understand that it's because he doesn’t feel like he belongs.

He doesn’t even want to belong. He doesn't make an effort to be a Roman even if, legally, you suppose he’s a citizen or at least a free man. You wonder if it’s his only weakness: being so different from everybody else.

You walk in and out of camp like a free woman with him. To the forest, to the stream, and one day, to the ocean, not too far from where you used to gather clams. If you walked the shoreline long enough, you would end up near your old village.

You spend your entire day there, collecting pink and white shells, giggling as König takes a dip in the shivering sea. He even throws the hood away before walking into the foaming waves. You have to hold your breath as he comes out because his face is the complete opposite of what you thought you would see. He has stern features and some prominent scars above his lip and crossing the bridge of his nose; there’s one above the left eye, and his nose has been broken at least two times. He looks mean and dangerous and suffering, it’s true, but you’re not scared at all. In fact, your embarrassingly wet while he furrows his brows and looks down at his feet, otherwise proud and happy in his skin but now suddenly concerned that you might not like what you see.

“Ugly?” He asks bluntly, with such distanced but sharp pain that your breath leaves you entirely. The vision of him might have frightened you on the first night, it’s true, but now, you only think he’s handsome. In a crude way, perhaps... But still handsome.

“No,” you shake your head slowly, never taking your eyes off him. König takes in air as if he has been granted a pardon from a horrible crime, and your heart hurts – is this the reason he has clung to that hood? To conceal some old scars and to appear more menacing to friends and enemies?

He’s stronger than ever as he walks to you, unclothed and smelling of seabreeze and salt, like he was just born from there, sired by the ocean and the wind. You ought to pray to Mother but you know it will do you no good. It’s a rotten joke to want a man who has massacred your people, the ones you used to call friend and neighbour and kin. You feel like you’re betraying the memory of your whole village by wanting to sleep with the enemy. The enemy who worships you; who looks at you like you’re a goddess when you lean back to watch the night sky come alive with indigo and stars. The enemy who teaches you their names in his own tongue...

He points you to the Head of the Serpent and the Smith’s Street, then to the Nail that holds the sky in place. You have your own names for the stars but you like it when he introduces them to you, clumsy and excited. When he shows you the long cock of the hero your people call Hunter, your cheeks heat up. You try to repeat the name in his tongue (whatever lewd, brash northern hero it may be), and it makes him happier than ever to hear you speak his words.

“König,” you ask him when he's shown you all the stars he knows. “Why do you fight…?”

He turns to look at you, perplexed, and you word the question differently.

“What do you want?”

“...What do I want?”

“Yes. In this life.”

His brows furrow as he starts to think, and your love for him only grows. Has no one ever asked him that before? Has he ever even given it a thought...?

He grabs a handful of grass and rips it from the ground, absentmindedly and deep in thought. He fiddles with it for a while, then throws it away, looking somewhere to the distant, generous sea.

“I want…children,” he says. “I want a home.”

König turns to look at you, so stern that it forces you take support from the earth beneath you.

“Home. Richtig?”

“Yes,” you whisper, “A–a home.”

But it can’t be...

It can’t.

It’s simply too crazy that the brutal, callous giant has been searching for a home all along. That the man who cuts off heads and spits out the flesh of his enemies is simply someone who has lost his home and has yearned back ever since. It’s too wild a thought that the Titan wants to raise a family and have many children.

“Don’t you have a home somewhere in Rome…?”

“It’s only a house.”

He fidgets with more grass, then turns back to you again with honest curiosity.

“Do you want children?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Fee. You would be a good mother,” he determines right then and there, saying it so casually that you have no choice but to believe it. You want to change the topic, and quickly, now tugging at the grass yourself because you're feeling shy.

“König… What is Fee?”

“Fee is… They are small women? Live in trees. Or flowers. Or everywhere,” he gestures vaguely all around you.

“You mean fairies,” you whisper, and he shrugs. If you say so. But you know you're talking about the same thing: curious little earth spirits, lively and wild.

Your heart is burning; it’s scorching until there’s nothing left but sweet molten gold. Usually, this kind of burning has stirred in your chest when some old crone has told a good story at the fire during the turn of the year. Usually, you’ve felt this kind of thrill when you’ve heard the piper play for the forest during springtime, lulling the devious spirits back to the trees so that they wouldn’t enter lambs and goats and make them sick. You’ve only felt so alive when you’ve walked at the beach during midsummer with a desperate aching between your legs because you’ve felt so alone and yet so, so alive.

“They said you were a Titan,” you whisper, another hushed question on this night of nights. You feel like you’re having a conversation of the ages, even if it’s clumsy and plain. The night sky is blooming with stars, the sea is whispering its secrets, and there are so many unsaid things between you two, finally washing up on the shore. König is ripping out more tall grass, but only because he’s searching for the right words.

“No. No titan. Just king,” he shakes his head as if sorry that he has to disappoint you. “I was the king’s son. Before Rome came…”

He’s suffered the same fate as you then, a long, long time ago. You wonder where his people are now or if they are even alive anymore, if he is the last giant standing, the last remaining man of his folk from the mountains. If the ruins of his proud house have already turned to dirt and dust and soil, if his father’s head was left to rot on a Roman spear, his riches and wealth taken back to Rome as spoils and exchanged for wine and whores and slaves.

You can only imagine the fury and despair when a tall boy’s future and dreams crumbled into dust, to blood and tears and screams, to a tale that no one ever told.

“You’d make a great king,” you say, meaning it with all your heart. His whole face lights up with a smile; the sorrow is still present in his eyes, and you know the depth of its roots now. But the Romans never managed to kill his will to live.

“If I was king… I would choose you for my queen,” he says softly, and you thank the wind for drying an escapee tear that rolls out. Fate is shaking your ribcage like a rattle; the wind steals your tears like they’re a long-withheld gift.

He tells you his tale under the safety of the vast starry sky. It's only bits and pieces, but you understand enough from his clumsy words.

He tells you how he was brought to Rome as a slave, sold to the pits and how he rose to manhood and fame there. He fought in the great arenas you’ve heard so many gruesome tales about; he fought until he could buy his freedom. He forgot his people, his revenge, that he was a king. Not knowing what else to do, he took up arms again and became the thing he hated the most: a Roman soldier.

He tells you about a woman who can see things that have not yet happened. He asked this seer if there was anything else for him in this life but death; he would give any offering that was needed if only he could find more life instead. He had already given money and offerings to all the fertility goddesses of Rome, to no avail. He had carved a statue of Venus to attract love, but it didn’t work. So many times he had wanted to throw it in the sea. Until the woman who sees told him he would find what he was looking for in his next campaign. When he promised he’d come back to kill her if she lied, the old crone had only laughed at him.

The next day, he was discharged from his old unit and separated from those who spoke the same language as him. Everyone was afraid of an uprising that would have a giant at its head, so he was offered money and whores, even a position in politics, and lastly, a place in an elite unit with a better wage. They told him the troops were about to leave for the harsh frontier: a new campaign to bring glory to Rome. He chose the latter option immediately.

He turns to look at you. Bloodless, thin-lipped, shivering you.

“She said you would be pretty. Like a fairy.”

You hear the distant rumbling of the sea, endlessly soft. You feel the wind suddenly passing through the field, filling the cloak of a northern king who came all this way just for you. Even the stars are waiting for your next move.

“I…” you start, already breathless. “The necklace… König, I’m so sorry. I had to give it to Mother.”

“Mother?”

“To the gods. So that you wouldn’t die in battle.”

Realization dawns on his face, driving away all doubt and confusion. He’s just as pleased as the day he gave you all those gifts, if not even more so.

“You make sacrifice for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You can’t help it: a sob wrenches out of your chest as the first tears fall. “I’m sorry. I really liked it... I’m so sorry–”

König rises immediately, only to come to you and fall to a crouch. He draws you against his chest, your weeping face soon held right against his heart.

“Never say sorry,” he kisses your head, over and over again. “Never say sorry…”

The wind surrounds you both, soft and warm, as he rocks you back and forth. You hug him with all the strength a little fairy can muster, then raise your chin to look at him. You’re probably the most pathetic creature he has ever seen – you could swear there is no woman alive feeling as weak as you feel now. König cups your face gently, the look in his eyes that of a hunter who has finally caught up with his prey. Warm, merciful, loving.

“Fee… I can still taste you,” he says.

“I can still feel you,” you whisper back. A deer, felled. “But I don’t… I don’t like biting.”

“Biting…?”

“Teeth.”

“Ja. I noticed.”

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You would let him bite you anywhere and everywhere now. You would actually kill for it if he only laid his mouth on you...

You laugh with leftover tears in your eyes, and your giant smiles back at you, so endearing that you feel like it’s the first day of the rest of your life.

“Do you like bath?”

…

You ease into the warm, almost too warm water with a sigh.

The slaves have had to toil the better half of the evening to heat such a large body of water, and you can’t even begin to imagine where König has gotten the pretty little clay bathtub. It’s the largest pottery you have ever seen; far too small for a giant like him but just enough for a fairy woman like you.

You wash yourself languidly, feeling like the queen of the whole wide earth. Someone has even poured some of the scented oils into the bath, and you could cry from happiness as the sweet scents envelop you. You wonder if the wife of any chieftain has ever experienced such luxury and warmth.

König has the most pleased smile on his face when he sees how much you appreciate yet another gift of his. He pampers and spoils you so much that you threaten to turn into an overripe grape, too soft and sweet and juicy, unable to keep intact anymore. But there’s a price to be paid, apparently, as he watches you from across the tent, sitting in his chair and pulling back the tunic to reveal the the erection between his legs. It’s the biggest cock you've ever seen, and already standing tall and proud, like a soldier about to go to war.

Your lips part on their own; heat shoots between your legs so fast it knocks the breath out of you. He seems to love your attention and awe, because his cock gives a few pulls just from you staring at it. Pearl-white seed leaks out of the tip as he grabs it inside a strong fist and gives himself a few unhurried strokes.

“König…?”

You’re breathless, but he’s not: he’s breathing heavily in that chair, powerful thighs spread wide, stroking the thick weapon between his legs while you feel like fainting in your bath.

“When will torture end?”

He's dark, dark and done with patience, and you don't know how to answer such a question. You don't even know where to look.

“Hm? You like to torture men?”

“No,” you whisper, cheeks hot and cunt ridiculously wet.

“Yes you do. A little bully, hmm?”

“König–”

“I’ll show what happens to bullies.”

He lets himself go and rises from the chair. Your mind is of no use to you now: all you can do is stare at that thing between his legs, pointing towards you like a road sign.

He walks to you, cock and gaze equally heavy, and gets rid of his tunic. Then he gestures for you to rise from the tub. You’ve spent enough time there in his opinion, and the water is indeed turning unpleasantly cool – but if you go to him now, you won’t be able to fight him. Not when you’re in such a pleased, lax, purring state. Perhaps that was the whole idea...

You rise slowly, then step out carefully, taking support from the edge of the tub and from his shoulder – and still almost collapse all over him as you try to remain on your feet. He holds you upwards while you try to avoid the murder weapon between his legs, but your giant is not as shameful as you: he grabs your butt and guides you flush against him. You meet his chest with a gasp, the length of him now trapped between you two.

“Wait, I’m—I’m still wet,” you try to peep, but it’s no use. He sweeps you off your feet, no doubt with the intention of carrying you to the bed.

“I will lick you clean,” he looks at you like you’re already trapped, caught, and bled: such a weak little creature in his arms, trying to beg for mercy with its last dying breath. You cling to him as such, that’s for sure.

“Just... No biting. Please?” You whisper as he lays you on the bed.

“No biting,” he gives his valiant promise, accompanied with a confident flash of a smile.

Gods…

If he’d gotten rid of that stupid hood earlier, your legs would’ve been pudding. They would’ve been as far apart as the two villages east and west of here. That smile would have allowed him to infiltrate everything in between. Perhaps it’s a good thing he is not that clever…

“Oh gods–” you gasp as he shifts down and lowers himself for worship. His breath hits you first, and the next thing you feel are his lips – still smiling – then the gods-forsaken beast gives you a kiss.

“Oh–”

There is a sudden silence following your moans, then you hear soldiers bursting into laughter outside your tent. They’re warming themselves by the campfire, no doubt, sharing stories about war and women, and now they’ve heard the first mewls of surrender from their hero’s tent, after weeks of quarrelling.

Your cheeks heat up as one of the soldiers utters a hurried sentence and mentions König’s name, after which the merry crew booms to laughter again.

Gods take the Romans and their stupid, lewd jokes...

You try to concentrate on the warmly lit burgundy ceiling as König carries on without paying any attention to what’s happening outside. They could march into the tent and try their best to rip him off your cunt, but you doubt if they would get him to move an inch. He's simply that drunk on your taste.

You wonder if his chin is already covered in your juices because his kisses are open-mouthed and hungry – he even tries to push his tongue inside you. The man has absolutely no shame when he's buried down there, groaning with approval as you roll your hips. You're rutting his face as shyly as you possibly can, and it makes him purr and rumble with bliss. The noise he makes is enough to make you sing too, so filthy that it earns you a whistle from outside.

Shit... They probably think he's fucking and hurting you with his cock – a scary prospect, yes, but you'll have to cross that bridge when you get there – and they couldn't be more wrong. If they only knew what their champion is doing to his slave, lapping and sucking his disobedient woman like a starved dog...

“You like mouth?”

It’s hungry, so dark, the way he asks if you like what he’s doing to you. It’s not the mad lust of a drunken man from a few nights ago; it’s sober, fierce greed with a clear purpose behind it. Your fingers find his hair and tug at it weakly, not to cheer him on, but to take support from something relatively stable.

“Yes… Yes, just–"

“Gut,” he grins into your folds, coarse stubble scraping you deliciously raw. “I like this too. After I lick you enough, I will fuck you.”

Your fingers curl around his hair, giving him another involuntary tug.

Gods, make him stop talking... Just tie his tongue or something, make him shut up.

Please…

“I will bully you all night with cock. I know you will like. Hm?”

He prattles more nonsense in your cunt, and you can’t hear the men outside anymore. You can’t even see the lamps. You’re in a womb of pleasure, which is funny because there’s a grown man between your legs, dragging his tongue over your slit until you're shaking and crying on the bed. Yes, if this is a womb, you never want to leave...

And he’s not eloquent; you don’t even know what he is trying to do to you. He probably doesn’t know it himself. He’s not trying to fish for cues on what you like: he just does what he feels like doing, which is everything. He tries every single thing. He’s just happy to be down there, flicking and circling his tongue over your nub until you can’t take it anymore.

You're dangerously close, and rise halfway to push his head away because it’s just too much; it’s too much pleasure in one go. He gives you a husky laugh and fights your weak attempts to make him stop, the damned bastard. You’re too frail to resist him, and he knows too much already, repeating the torture until your hips buck up.

“Gut... Like that...?” He asks again, so eager to please that you have to stifle a sob.

“Yes... Yes, just like that,” you sigh while trying to stay in one piece.

“Guide me, little fairy,” he demands, excited like a young, hot recruit. Apparently it's no big deal for him to have his head tugged and shoved and dragged just for a woman's pleasure. It doesn't take away an ounce of his power to be your toy for a moment. Your sharp tongue has left you completely; it is you who is humbled as you guide him back to the right spot, jerking when he licks you just the way you wished.

It’s bad enough that you make a mess on his bed and moan like a paid woman, giving everyone in this camp a taste of what it sounds like when a giant bullies his fairy to the full. But can’t he keep his stupid, lovable mouth shut...

He’s making so much noise that you can both feel and hear him. His moans are hoarse, needy and deprived; they echo somewhere in your core, somewhere inside your most sensitive, aching place, just before he finds it, the right spot, and pushes his tongue inside you.

“Wait…” you gasp, convulsing on the bed now. What the hell does he think he’s—

“Wait—I’m…”

And then you cum, right into his mouth, with an arched back and quivering thighs, with such lewd sounds shooting out of your mouth that complete silence follows outside.

Whatever those soldiers had thought to happen here tonight, they clearly didn't expect to hear that… Nor the cries that follow, so nasty and wanton that König doesn't withdraw, not before you have clenched and cried your fill. He enjoys your peak to the last tremble, but you barely get to catch your breath before he leaves you. He doesn’t even give you a chance to caress his head as thanks for what he just did to you.

His mouth leaves you empty and cold as he rises, watching you like you're his best conquest. His cock is so hard it juts out, immovable like a rock and so intimidating that you stop breathing for a moment.

And he doesn't allow your breathless, shocked state go to waste: he grabs that horse cock and sets it on your flush, soaked lips, and pushes the head inside. More than just the head inside.

“Oh gods, oh fuck–”

Your legs are completely useless, falling to the side as he eases himself into you. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head when he hears you curse for the first time in his presence. More than just amused, he goes deeper still, delighted that he made you say a naughty word with his cock.

You can feel the stretch; you can feel every ridge, every vein, all his thickness filling you with purpose. You can do nothing but flutter your eyes as he takes you, finally, as his own.

And it must be some cruel joke of both Mother Earth and Father Sky that it prolongs whatever bliss he just gave you with his mouth. Your body won't stop having its pleasure; it welcomes him with a string of helpless whimpers. Even your cunt starts to squeeze him like it's the best thing in this world.

And he sees it. He feels it.

“Ja, little one. Time to fuck.”

He continues his journey inside, one massive palm landing on each side of your head as he leans over you.

“Einfach so… Trust me. Hmm?”

You only nod, completely silent and tame, waiting for him to give you more gifts. Mother knows this man is your downfall: your heart and soul are about to burst into flame when you look at him. You want him with your whole being; you want his love and praise so much you could cry.

“You want cock?”

“Yes,” you look up at him, eyes surely shining like stars. “Yes, yes, yes–”

“I will give you. Don’t worry.”

You sob as he withdraws, pulling the long, delicious cock almost completely out. He returns immediately when you whine from the loss. He feels so good, and so, so big… Fulfilling you entirely, every bit of you that was hollow and empty, every little space that needed loving is now his and filled with love.

“Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng,” he huffs and looks down as if to check if it’s true that he’s finally inside you. It could never fit in fully; you both probably knew that. But he’s trying his best.

“What does that mean?” You pant, impatient that he stopped moving.

“Too small... For me...” he laments. Or brags.

“Any woman is too small for you,” you mope underneath him, thinking about whether he has had women who have been able to take him fully in. Women who haven’t been “too small”.

König raises his eyes to you and smiles, revealing a row of white teeth, the scarred lip making his grin look pure and sweet even if he is a menacing man.

Stupid mountain giant… He's just proud of not being able to fit inside you. Your lower lip juts out with a pout, and the cock inside you responds immediately with a pulse. You can feel it — he's fucking excited about you getting angry at him again.

There is a flash of mischief in his eyes – darned bastard – just before he swoops down to attack your neck. Your tits get crushed under a solid chest as he nuzzles close to your ear and gives you lots of love and little bites. He starts to fuck you slowly, and there's nowhere you can escape now, nowhere you can flee his mouth or teeth or cock.

“König, you promised–”

“Aber… You are more tight this way?”

The breathless laugh that follows leaves you blinking. Of course he can feel the way you tighten around him every time he gives you a little bite.

“Gods, I hate you…” you whisper on his shoulder, thinking about biting him there in return. König laughs in your neck again – your threats of hate have long past lost their intimidating nature and are more like love confessions to him now. And perhaps that’s what they are.

He makes love to you hard and good, and it’s embarrassing, how you're about to cum again around his cock. You were supposed to have your revenge by showing him you have teeth too, but find yourself biting your lip instead, trying to tone down at least some of the filthy sounds that try to escape you.

He's not too rough, at least not yet, happy with listening to the poorly stifled whimpers that follow his every thrust. You thought he'd rail you like an animal, but he seems to settle for making love to you while biting and groping you all over. He savours every thrust like he savoured those grapes you fed him: slowly and intently, with passion instead of greed.

You're squeezing him with everything you have as he rocks you back to the edge. His grunting only make it all worse: he doesn't even try to be quiet and decent, and it's driving you to madness. Why does he have to be so noisy? Why does he have to fuck you so that everyone can hear just how good you feel?

Every soldier in this camp can hear both your moans, his hoarse ones and your weak ones, merging together until you do sound like animals in heat... You’re so wet that some of the men must hear the music of that, too. You never knew your cunt would be so hungry and needy, least of all for a man like him. You grip him as the waves approach, rich moans turning into pathetic little cries as his cock works you open.

“Again…?” He smiles a surprised laugh on your neck. The waves hit you before you can tell him to shut up.

The noise you make is even more obscene this time, and you barely catch a glimpse of his drowsy, victorious stare before your head falls back. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to take in the most powerful orgasm and the most powerful cock of your life without having to see that stupid, happy face of your lovesick giant.

“Nein,” he grabs your jaw inside a huge but gentle hand. “Eyes open.”

He won't even let you cum in peace, but you do as you’re told, finding him watching you like a stormcloud or a god. He watches your every tremble, every whimper, every sigh. He sees the full-blown love in your eyes, and you wonder… Is this what the bards sing about in their stupid songs?

…Weakness?

Because your heart hurts and your eyes sting, your thighs tremble and your cunt is far too wet and open for him to plough. If this is love, it hurts; it burns far too sweet. It leaves you utterly weak.

“Little one is needy,” he comments softly on your second downfall.

“You’re the one who’s needy–”

Your already weak argument ends in a gasp as he reminds you who you belong to with another good, deep thrust.

“I will put a child in you,” he rumbles, a threat or a promise. “If we do this every night… You will have my child.”

“Then let’s do this every night,” you whisper beneath him, your own purr of a threat. As if you didn’t know how babies were made… To your silent joy, König stops to catch his breath or your words; you’re not entirely sure which. You decide to up the stakes, just to make him fall with you.

“And every morning too?”

“Ach, du kleine–” he crumbles, voice turning to dust from your innocent suggestion.

If you thought he was a little too in love with you before, the look on his face now is worth all the gold in the world. You could swear that your kind question is the sole reason for this man cumming on the spot. Perhaps your body is to blame for it too; he couldn't keep his paws off when you were being sulky and difficult, so how could he take it when you're pleased and loving and all puffed up?

You see the brief flash of vulnerability, the mortal fragility in his eyes just before he shoots his load with a painful-sounding groan. The sound that leaves him is a mixture of desperation and release – even giants can cry, you think as you watch how beautifully he comes undone. He makes sure his seed is sent deep inside you by burying his cock into you, as far as it can go; the intention behind it is so clear that you wouldn't be surprised if you got heavy with a child after this first time.

He falls on top of you after, drained and spent and body heaving from exertion. There’s no other sound in the night but the satisfied panting of you two: the soldiers outside are rendered silent by the sounds of true lovemaking, even the wind spirits are hushed tonight.

You’re completely filled, and with his cock still inside you, he’s preventing any precious seed from escaping. You’re only glad he’s too weak to move because you’d happily keep him here forever, inside and on top of you like this.

“You are pleased…?” He turns his head a little, sounding worried enough to make you hug him tight.

“Yes. Very much,” you whisper, and he moves to rise and look you in the eyes.

“Gut.”

It’s cute to be nose to nose like this with him, eyes locked together, lips only a hair’s breadth apart. He looks so intoxicated and happy without even being drunk that you break into a small laugh, eyes brimming with happy tears, the washing away of relief. He smiles too, then laughs with you.

The soldiers outside might think it an odd business: to make a woman moan and laugh with a cock. You were brought to this tent screaming, and he made you scream again, just not the way they thought.

The sound of your mutual laughter rises in the tent, up towards the heavens, surely making even the Sky Father smile above.

…

You do it every night, and every morning, too.

Sometimes, you do it during the day after bathing in the stream. After washing and playing in the water, you rush to the shore together, but König is always faster than you. He throws your dress away or holds it up above his head, far from your reach, smiling like the most innocent man in the world. He's far from innocent, though: his cock hangs heavy between his legs, swelling just from seeing you angry and flustered and wet.

“Bully,” you accuse, utterly in love and out of breath, earning you another attack of a love-hungry giant. You forget the dress when he kneels on the grass, kisses your stomach and your thighs, keeps you in place for his mouth with two strong arms and a love that turns your whole body weak.

“Pretty,” is the only thing he breathes as an answer before he scoops up your leg and spreads you open for his mouth.

Your head rolls back with a choked sigh, the drops on your skin dry on their own. Somehow, you end up on the grass with his mouth glued on you. The sun plays in your hair; it dances on your face as he gives you more and more until you know, you just know that if you do this every night and morning and day, you will definitely have his child.

He tells you his real name, his true name, the one his mother gave him. You moan it in his ear just before you cum around his length. Sometimes, it makes him purr; other times, it makes him grunt. Once, you hear a soft, pitched whine.

He’s more rough when you’re on your knees. You’re shy and wet when he commands you to prop yourself on your elbows and show him your cunt. He licks you from front to back, feasts on you until your breaths turn to shivers. You squeeze your eyes shut from how obscene the scene must look; you hope to all the gods the Roman slave won’t come to ask his travel guides back when König finally rises and takes a wide stance behind you. He sets himself on your opening and pushes in, fat and greedy.

You can only whimper as he starts the thrusts, starved and slow, picking up the pace and holding you in place by the hips when you approach the brink of another collapse. You fear you will lose your mind if he keeps doing this to you every day. The only thing you hear are the breathless, warm grunts of encouragement behind you.

“You can take it. You can take it. Already took it, little one…”

He won’t stop, not even as you cry out loud, the cock hitting you in places that make your legs nearly give in. He won’t stop even as tears brim, not even as you start to sound like a tortured animal; no, he just tightens his grip on your waist and pounds you harder. You cum with a moan that would make Roman whores blush, but your lover doesn’t mind at all. He cums right after you, with a roar that could raise the reverend dead from their mounds.

Afterwards, he’s gentle again. He gathers you in his arms like his most valuable possession, caressing and breathing you in, giving you a soft kiss behind your ear.

“You’re... mean,” you try to remember how to breathe as he gives you more of those hungry kisses. You already know he likes it when you’re so spent you don’t have the strength to squirm or fight him.

“Ja. And you become more nice when I bully you,” he whispers in your ear. “More calm… Less difficult.”

“Well, you don’t,” you turn inside his hold, eyes shining brighter than the stars or even the sun. “Crazy man…”

“You have robbed me of my sword and shield, it’s true. Robbed my heart too. Little thief.”

“Thief? You’re the one who stole me…!”

“And I’ll never let you go.”

You wriggle a hand to cup his face, meeting his eyes with such helplessness that it’s not even funny anymore. If he’s joking or playing with you now, you’ll kill him with his own swords.

“You promise?”

“I make a vow,” he declares ceremoniously, with a hand on his heart. But you doubt that he’s playing any games; you wonder if this man is even capable of lying or deception. You hug him so tight that he has to let out a grunt – surprised and pleased – after which you have to bury your face in his neck so that he won't see your tears.

“I am in love with you, Fee,” he whispers in your ear while caressing your hair, ever poetic for such a simple man. “Tell me. Do you like me too…?”

“Yes,” you breathe a half-cry, half-laugh in his neck. “Yes, you crazy giant. I like you too.”

You rise just enough to kiss him. It’s hungry and delivers everything you can’t say. You can’t tell him you love him; you simply can’t. You’re not ready for the painful happiness it would bring forth. He stabs you full of it anyway.

“I will never let you go. Never. Not when I finally found you, little one...”

…

Summer comes.

The camp moves lazily to its next destination, but when the next battle comes, König refuses to fight.

His soldiers blame you, of course. You have bewitched him with your softness, making him soft and spineless as well. It is unheard of that a warrior like him would fall like this: out of some woman’s underhanded spell rather than dying gloriously in the field by a barbarian blade or two. Even poison is considered better than this.

No one understands that there is no hex. The war is still being fought, this time inside his soul. It’s not just you preventing him from taking up arms; it’s something else, something old and deep-rooted you've managed to stir in him. Something ferocious, something that has been asleep for a long time, something that is far from all things soft.

You two sneak out from the camp after the bulk of the army has marched away. He takes you to the seaside again, to a wild, roaring shore. You laugh and bask in the sun, swim in the sea and eat the first berries of the season. You lie on the tall grass, naked as the day you were born: it's simply too hot to wear anything except your glowing skin. König starts to ask you peculiar questions while tracing the soft line of your spine.

He asks what kind of house you would like to live in, and tries to find out in a roundabout way if you would like to live in a forest or in the hills. You treasure the sound of waves, and König likes the sound of the wind in trees, but you both love steep hills and the open view of plains. You get the idea that he may want to retire somewhere in the near future.

He tells you he is not a good fisherman but can hunt everything that moves. He is good with a spear, with traps and the bow, and he’s tired of hunting humans who only wish to live in peace. The arena he could understand, but the war on foreign lands, not. And if you begin to swell with his offspring, the Roman encampment at war is the last place for a sweet little fairy like you. He asks what kind of village you used to live in and is somewhat sad to hear all the things you tell him. He says it sounds like home, the one he was taken from many years ago.

When you return to the camp, it’s like you two are a different species altogether, two wild animals who sneak from the gates back to the flock, back to being human, back to being caged and tamed and stunted. The grumpy, tired soldiers witness your wildness and happiness with sullen distaste. To them, your appetite for freedom is the filthiest, most treacherous thing in the world.

The commander of the troops summons König at his feet and threatens to flog him if he ever skips a battle again. He’s told that only barbarians ignore orders like this: at the turn of a whim or a woman or wind. If he doesn’t remember who he is, not the reckless murderer of his youth but a man reborn, a noble Roman citizen, he will risk descending into apathy and greed again. Was this the case, Rome will guide him back to fold again by the crack of a whip if it has to.

That night, you tell him that you love him. Wherever he goes, you will go. That night, when you’re lying in his arms, sweaty and spent and thoroughly happy, he speaks words so wild it shakes the whole tent with a wind.

“If I kill the soldiers, will you come with me?”

It’s only a mutter, a murmured, careful whisper, but it makes you rise to sit and place a hand on his chest for extra support.

“Kill the soldiers? You mean… Kill the Romans?”

“Ja. All of them.”

The shock quickly makes way to disbelief. Can such a thing even be done? He’s a giant, but he’s still just one man. But König doesn’t look restless at all; he looks like a man who has finally made a decision he should have made years ago. He looks like someone who is at peace with their soul.

"Where would we go?" You whisper weakly, unsure if he has given this enough thought or thought at all. It’s now the wanderer in him who speaks, the adventurer who fears nothing because he has already lost everything – and found the most precious, essential thing.

You. Himself…

Free will.

“Wherever you want.”

“What if you get killed…?”

“You take treasure and horse and go.”

…

Your mother always said that it's useless to sway a man if he has chosen to stand up and fight. She told you that the best you could do is go grab a sword and join him.

That is why you give him your blessing – your full, ardent blessing.

It makes him stronger than ever: were he to go out there with nothing but his skin, he would be victorious. The oak that hears your magnificent spell shivers from fear above you as you call down earth, fire and wind.

You call the spirits from below to guide his feet and make them swift and silent as a feather in the wind. You call down the lightning from the sky to accompany his sword as he deals his blows. You cloak him with the fury of the dead; they will smite down his enemies when they catch even a glimpse of him. You shroud him with the Mother's blessing so that he will be untouchable, unstoppable, invincible as he deals death among the Romans.

It’s a terrible spell; even the moon withdraws into a cloud when She hears it. Not even the lady of silver twilight dares to reveal this giant to the Romans as he’s about to descend upon them.

He rises with the power of fifteen men and gives you a kiss that nearly topples you. He smiles before he leaves you, and never looks back as he goes to do the deed of a legend.

You watch the massacre up from a hill. A safe distance from the camp, but close enough to see how König destroys a whole cohort by himself. The plant you mixed into the “reconciliation wine” he gave his soldiers and the commander before nightfall makes it laughably easy because most of the men are still half asleep when they burn inside their tents. The oil spilt on the dry dirt and linen roars aflame now with the help of the wind and earth spirits as König torches the camp. The occasional few soldiers that rise to meet him with fear in their stare are already broken by your spell before his swords impale them.

The old translator is the only Roman who wasn’t given a cup of foxglove wine because he was König’s slave, and now he can see that he is blessed among men. The God of War faces him with swords pointing to the ground, fury planting his feet wide, and it takes the old Roman a while to understand that he’s the only man who gets to walk out of this camp unharmed. As grumpy and unsociable as he is, you wish him good fortune on his future journeys, even utter a quick protection spell to shroud him as he leaves towards his destiny on enemy land.

The slave women, sober, confused, and free, run amock to gather weapons, cloaks, food, and valuables before escaping the camp. König doesn’t even notice them, and they pay little mind to the enraged god ramming through puny mortals because they’re too busy getting out of the burning castra.

How fitting it is that the only people escaping the hellfire are a few beaten women and an old, weak-calved Roman – every able-bodied soldier burns inside his tent or meets their end at your lover’s blade.

The wind spirits help spread the fire so eagerly that you begin to fear that König won’t make it out in time. You whisper prayers into your fist, curled around the Mother who has already given you so much. She has also taken away everything; like seasons, she has reaped and sown, but if she reaps your lover now, you will walk into the sea.

Mother is merciful and returns him to you, unharmed and glorious. He's the same ferocious beast you saw half a moon ago, and also the same ferocious man who was inside you this very morning. You see a god of war, and he sees the mother of life and death, perhaps, because his first words to you are a ripe offering.

“I avenged them all,” he says when he reaches you, thrumming with victory and smelling of smoke and ruin and blood.

He has been born again; he has walked to a new dawn through fire and death and returns to your arms like you two have known each other since the beginning of time. You’re not sure if he talks about his fallen ones or your fallen ones, or everyone who has fallen to these particular Roman spears. You’re not sure if this is his downfall because what you’re looking at is only the downfall of the Roman campaign on your lands. You and König are very much wild and spirited and free. If this is a downfall, it feels like being lifted towards the sky. You see in his eyes that he feels the same as you.

The whole world is new as you leave towards a new life. Sun rises, and takes years off your backs. You wash him in the sea and kiss the salt away from his lips, and it feels only right that he takes you on the grass after slaughtering your enemies.

You bury the statues and the bronze sword in your old village, long abandoned and thoroughly looted. The old woman is in her hut, dead as a stone, and she finally looks happy, with a calm little smile on her face and flowers in her hand. She looks like a young girl, almost, ready to meet the spring of her life.

"Ready for adventure, little one?" König smiles as he raises you to his horse. He takes direction from the sun while you look down at his happy, golden form – your god, your life, your love.

Your new beginning.

...

Translations:

Richtig? - Right?/Correct?

Einfach so - Just like that

Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng - Damn… Gods, you are tight

Aber… - But…

Ach du kleine… - Oh you little…

Scheisse - Shit/Fuck

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x female reader #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #konig x you #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig smut #könig fluff #könig imagine

3K notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 3 months ago

Text

Knock You Down: II

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Bucky has to answer some hard questions on date #2.

This is a follow up to Part I

Word count: 3 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Part III will be posted on Sunday, 10/13. I think it will be the final part. 😓

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, daydreams of: oral sex (f receiving), marking, edging, & overstimulation. High potential for phone sex? Narrowly missed masturbation; a pet name in google translate Romanian; voice kink; drunk messaging/calling; Bucky has you under surveillance; AAAAngst. The heat is ramping up, but still no sex!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———-

Bucky woke with his lips tingling for want of you.

After your first date, sleep had been elusive. His thoughts of you led to a physical condition that he was used to taking care of right away, one way or another.

He decided that only you could solve his problem.

You had him as hard as a rock and Bucky knew that your soft curves were both the culprit and the cure

In his dreams, he had been eating you out, the smell in his nostrils a mix the your natural scent and perfume on your wrist as he went down on you. He couldn’t actually taste you, but he just knew that you were delicious.

Knowing that he would be distracted all day, Bucky tried other means to work out his frustration. He got up, worked out, and concentrated on not being a simp.

Unsuccessful.

At the stroke of 8 am Bucky sent you a good morning text and inquiring about your sleep. He hoped that your dreams were as full of him as his were of you.

Bucky chuckled as he pressed send. Good morning texts were not in his repertoire, quite the opposite. He was a pro in dodging follow up texts from his conquests.

After 10 minutes, he put his phone down, because he realized he was staring at it waiting for your response. In the shower, the stream of cold water was meant to calm the lava in his veins at the thought of you still asleep in bed. He needed to stop thinking of waking you up with his head between your legs because then his erection would never go down.

Back in his bedroom, Bucky saw that you had responded. His heart was in his throat at just the notification of not just a text, but an image sent on his screen. He had to sit down.

I had sweet dreams.

Image sent from Y/N

The image was a pic of you in your bed, hair tied back and no makeup. The morning sunlight on your skin was everything and the soft smile on your face looked so kissable.

It appeared that you were wearing a tank top. He could see your neck and the tiniest bit of cleavage, but it was enough to have him raging hard again.

The highly rational urge to mark you up as a punishment for torturing him came to him like a bolt of lightning.

God, the thought of punishing, maybe edging you all day, or better yet, having you beg him to stop making you cum as he overstimulated you sent his hand to his dick under the towel, but his other hand was reaching for your contact.

He groaned when he realized what he was doing. One hand had to stop. He wasn’t going to do this.

Bucky unhanded himself and sighed as your phone rang, then his stomach dropped as he realized you probably wouldn’t pick up.

“Hullo? James?”

Your morning voice. The fantasy of how to wake you up took hold again.

“G-,” Bucky cleared his throat, but it didn’t help much.

“Good morning Frumoasă.”

Damn, his voice. Yeah. You had a voice kink. You felt the urge to ask for a picture of him.

And you knew where that would lead.

The rest of your day depended upon not revealing how much of a slut you were for him already, so you decided to crack a joke.

“Fumosa? What does that mean? You calling me fugly or something?”

Bucky laughed, and the sexual tension was broken. You were so fucking charming. He was definitely feeling you.

Bucky wanted to do so much more than to just be physical with you; he wanted to just be with you.

“Far from it, Y/N. Frumoasă means beautiful in Romanian. Ești foarte frumoasă. You are so beautiful.”

You could hear his smile as he replied.

“Hmmmm. Well. Good morning to you too, James. And thank you.”

Bucky smiled at his bedroom wall, reclining on his unmade bed, not caring that he would be late for work. But he was the boss, so it didn’t really matter. He wanted to hear that moan-hum thing you did again, so he repeated himself.

“Ești foarte frumoasă.”

You were shook. When Bucky spoke in Romanian, his voice lowered an octave or two. It left you squirming.

You stifled another moan and Bucky shifted, his towel moving again.

This phone call was getting dangerous.

“James…”

His heart beat double time when you said his name, as if you were asking for so much more than just his attention. One word from you and he would would make you see stars over the phone.

Damn, he was hard as a rock.

“Yes?”

The way his voice broke over that one little word left you speechless, trying to make a wise choice of words. Now was not the time for phone sex, no matter how much you wanted his voice to talk you through it. This man had you caught up, but you were trying to chill.

“See you in a few days.”

Bucky smiled again. You were constantly changing the game, a Queen to his Knight. But he was determined to capture you.

“See you in a few days frumoasă. I can’t wait. Have a great day.”

—

After that, you two stayed away from phone calls, subsisting on texts and anticipation for the next four days.

But you couldn’t get away from thoughts of Bucky, especially since Nat showed up at your favorite coffee shop that morning. She claimed that she lived nearby while hinting that Bucky liked you a lot. You just smiled and tried to be enigmatic, not the blushing schoolgirl that you felt inside.

Hungry for more pictures of you, Bucky followed you on Instagram. You didn’t habitually reveal a lot of skin, but what he could see of you made him want more.

You noticed his follow, (accompanied by several gossip rags) and took note as you blocked them and made your page private. James Barnes gave no fucks who knew about you. You smiled all day long at that knowledge.

On Wednesday, he noticed that you posted girl’s night out, apparently to celebrate your friend Sydney’s engagement.

You looked good, skin glowing, body giving, and those brown leather pants making him dizzy just by staring at them through a screen. He knew he’d be feral if he saw them in person.

Bucky fantasized all evening about you coming home to him that night.

When Bucky liked the post your heart rate increased and you felt like you were in a race.

“I’m winning!”

You whooped it up with your friends and ordered another bottle. That’s when you saw Sam out of the corner of your eye. You invited him over for drinks, much to the delight of your friends.

Your drunk text to Bucky when you got home and the following exchange had him grinning as he went to sleep that night. Friday evening would be interesting indeed.

You woke up Thursday morning, wondering why you had a picture of a shirtless Bucky Barnes as the lock screen on your phone.

Your eyes almost fell out of your head as you opened your messages and saw this exchange:

Hey James. I want to fuck your voice. Especially when you speak Romanian. 🫠

But I can’t fuck until date number 3 sooooo

*Voice memo from James

*Voice memo to James

Image sent from James

Thank you Daddy. 💋

You are welcome, Frumoasă. 😏

You threw your phone.

You called him Daddy????

And you told him about the three date rule.

You were out of control.

You immediately sent him another message.

Good Morning, James. I apologize for last night. Please, burn your phone and destroy all messages from me. Have a nice life. 🫣

Good morning, Frumoasă. Last night was harmless fun. 😉 Have a wonderful day. See you tomorrow evening.

You grinned because although you were embarrassed, he was right. And also because he was a chaotic, but harmless gentleman. He just gave you what you asked for and didn’t take advantage of the situation. And his left arm tattoo sleeve was sexy as fuck.

What a man.

——-

When Steve and Sam caught him staring your picture during an auction that morning, Bucky just grinned as his best friends razzed him. He realized that you were worth it as he serenely endured them busting his balls.

Later that day Sydney sent you some very interesting articles about Bucky Barnes and his business and called to check up on you. Your heart sank as you assured her that you were okay and thanked her for being a friend.

There was a different vibe for you now; James Barnes might not be the perfect guy. But you tried not to overreact.

Everything that was posted online wasn’t necessarily true.

You decided to exercise to clear your head, but lo and behold, when you looked to your left at SoulCycle, there was Steve Rogers, Bucky’s best friend. You managed to dodge a conversation by rushing off to work.

You were looking forward to your date, because James Barnes had a lot of explaining to do.

—----

When Bucky picked you up on Friday, you opened the door and quickly retreated to get your coat and purse as soon as he entered.

“Hello James,” you said from across your living room.

Buck couldn’t put his finger on what shifted, but something had. He raised his eyebrow at you as you stood out of his reach and he felt the chill in the air.

“Hello, Frumoasă.”

He didn’t hide his admiration at your dress as he bit his bottom lip, positive that he could probably just flip up the hem and slip his… Bucky forced his eyes back to yours.

Damn, he looked good in the brown suit and black crew neck shirt. His eyes were everything on those colors. You noticed him checking you out and you looked down at your mustard dress.

“I hope this is okay. I wore this to work. Got out a little later than I expected. Billie, my assistant, and I were setting up for the opening tomorrow.”

Bucky smiled.

“You look amazing. And I can’t wait to see the exhibit.”

You cleared your throat.

“About that. Are you sure you want to come?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“...Yes. We agreed when I conceded to your price on Monday. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing, we’ll talk about it later. Are you ready to go?”

Bucky let you have whatever space you were needing at the moment.

“Lead the way.”

You chose the venue of this second date, a Harlem Renaissance exhibit in the eponymous borough. Bucky remained the perfect gentleman, taking your hand as he helped you into the car, but keeping his distance as you rode uptown.

If it were not for his all consuming stares and the desire in his eyes, you would think he wasn’t attracted to you. But you couldn’t let your libido have you make a terrible decision. You were deep in thought the entire ride to Harlem.

—---

You were in awe of the exhibit as much Bucky was in awe of you. You caught him admiring you instead of the art more than once, but you just smiled and launched into a conversation about the pieces, discussing the merits of the exhibit.

“That’s very astute. So good. Beautiful and smart.”

Bucky’s proximity to you during your banter was not helping your resolve. His voice in your ear cooing praises was making you weak. But you had to be strong. When he took your hand again as you walked to dinner on Frederick Douglass Boulevard, the thousand butterflies which had taken residence in your stomach on Monday afternoon fluttered their wings.

Damn. He had you down bad.

After you were seated, Bucky tried to break down the wall that you’d seemed to throw up between you.

“Alright, Frumoasă. Tell me. What is going on in that beautiful brain of yours? You’ve been in your head all night.”

You looked around, trying to avoid those perceptive blue eyes of his, and noticed that the rooftop terrace seemed to be deserted except for the two of you. You had been so caught up in your inner turmoil that you hadn’t noticed the surroundings.

“James…”

He was staring at you again, mouth open, and that tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yes, Frumoasă…”

“Did.. did you reserve this rooftop just for us?”

Bucky smiled and leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. He took a sip of wine before he answered.

“I may have called in a favor of the owner.”

“It’s Friday night! That is quite the feat.”

“Someone as striking as you deserves to be surrounded by beauty. Always.”

You shook your head at him.

“I’m serious James. I’m not your type. We come from two different worlds. You can have anyone you’d want. What would you want with me?”

Bucky sobered up, sensing your anxiety. He moved his chair closer to yours.

“I never make a promise that I can’t keep. And I don’t string women along. I try to make sure that everyone knows what it is with every encounter. Most women know that what happens is a one time thing.”

He stared at you with the ocean depths that were his eyes.

“And I hope you understand that you are not most women. Remember what I said Monday night?”

You nodded, remembering the rush of feelings and wild thoughts.

“That was the first of many dates. I haven’t been on a second date in… I honestly don’t know how long.”

You digested what he was saying, really wanting to like him, and more. But you had to clear the elephant from the room.

“Speaking of honesty. What do you really do for a living, James?”

Bucky looked at you strangely.

“What do you mean? I-”

“James. You have one chance to tell me the truth.”

Bucky digested the look on your face; he knew you were serious.

“It seems that you have read some things. Or someone has said something to you.”

You shrugged and said, “Both.”

You were anxious and relieved that he didn’t insist on the lie.

“Okay. Then.”

He sighed and looked at you carefully with those eyes, giving you a minute. After he told you the truth, there would be no going back.

“I’ll give you the cliff notes version:

When we moved to America when I was 10, my dad Jimmy fell into the family business, which was crime. He always expected me to take it over, training me from a young kid. Steve and I grew up together. Nat and Sam came along later. I dove in deep as soon as I was old enough and brought them with me, thinking that's what I wanted."

Bucky shook his head at his own miscalculation.

"It took five years to realize that it was no way to live. When my father died seven years ago, I could finally see a way out. I started the art business because it really is what I love, and I can divest myself of any connection to illegality be completely legitimate in a little over three more years.”

You sat back and crossed your arms. His explanation was too neat and tidy.

“You have a timeline to be done with crime?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but yes. I had a ten year and a five year plan. I’m working the plan with the help of my friends. And I’m doing it for them as much as for me. And if I'm thinking about a future with someone...."

Bucky reached over and took your hand as he stared at you.

"I'd be doing it for my own family as well."

You wanted to melt, but remained strong, pulling your hand from his.

“So you’re saying you aren’t a dangerous man? That I won’t be putting my reputation, my employment, and my life on the line by dating you?”

Bucky sat back as you posed your questions. He had never had to consider them before. He had never ‘dated’ anyone before. He just got what he wanted and they were safe because he never saw them again.

But now that what he wanted was you, and for far more than a one night stand, he was terrified.

“Y/N. I told you. I won’t lie to you. Yes. I am still a dangerous man. And yes, being associated with me can be dangerous. But I want you, Frumoasă. And I will stop at nothing to protect you."

You saw the ferocity of his emotions and you thought of all of them these past few days.

“Nat, Sam, and Steve. Those weren’t coincidences. Were they?”

Bucky gave you a wry smile and dropped his gaze. His voice got soft, as if he were chastened.

“No. They weren’t coincidences.”

Suddenly, you felt stifled, that there was no air avaiable. Even though you were outside.

“I- I need to think. I want to go home.”

“Come. I’ll take you.”

You rose and stepped away from Bucky.

“No. I need some space. I‘ll call a rideshare…”

“Nonsense. Nico is outside. He will take you. I can call Steve to pick me up.”

You looked up into Bucky's sad eyes.

“O-Okay.”

You fought the urge to bury yourself in his arms, and in a few minutes, Bucky put you in the car and you were rolling toward Brooklyn before you realized it.

——-

It wasn’t until you were in your tank top and sweats on your couch having made your head hurt with all of the thoughts for an hour, when you realized you never ate dinner and were starving.

You sighed and picked up your phone.

In just about another hour, your favorite takeout was on its way, comfort for a tumultuous evening. When you answered your door, your stomach flipped at the delivery person clad in white t-shirt, grey sweats, and a backwards ball cap.

You smiled at Bucky.

He grinned back.

“So. Is this date number three, orrrrr?…”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“You can drop the food off in my kitchen. This way, James.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, the heat in your gaze unmistakable.

Bucky smiled and thanked the heavens as he followed the sway of your hips into your home.

——-

Please let me know if you like it! 😊

Next part here.

#ramp-it-up falloween 24 #falloween #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #seb stan #sebastian stan #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #art dealer!Bucky Barnes #mob boss!bucky Barnes #Art dealer! Bucky Barnes #mob boss! Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut

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vanishingstarrs · 8 months ago

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midnight haze ( k. bakugo x reader, slow burn, hurt x comfort, anxiety, fluff )

part 1, part 2, part 3

It was late. You shouldn’t even be awake, but you couldn’t sleep with all that was going on in the world.

So you decided to do something productive: bake. You needed something to focus your energy onto and who didn’t love cookies? You were sure your dorm mates would appreciate some in the morning when they all awoke.

You had very minimal lighting, but were wearing your glasses so that wasn’t an issue. You also had a pair of earbuds in one ear so you could monitor for any noise or disturbances you may be causing by being up so late into the night. The music was soft and meant to be soothing, you hoped it might make you sleepy with time, but it didn’t take and eventually you sat down next to the oven while you waited for your timer to run out.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly jumped, your hand coming up to clutch your chest as you pulled out your earbud and looked up at the person standing there.

“Jesus, you’re quiet.”

“And you’re not.” The blond countered.

You frowned at him,“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

Bakugo sat down across from you, eyes glancing at the oven briefly before looking at you again,“How much longer?”

You glanced at your phone before looking at him and shrugging,“Seven minutes.”

He said nothing as he turned on the stove and placed a pot of water on. He stood and watched it until it was hot enough to pour into a mug with a teabag hanging off the side. He held it out to you, your eyes focused on the fact that it was his mug, his favorite color, his initial, his.

“For me?” You asked, unsure.

“Drink.” He said.

You took it and slowly took a sip, the tea was unfamiliar in taste and you figured it might also be one of his. Usually Momo was the one to offer you tea, you weren’t well versed in them, but did enjoy the taste whenever you had one.

“Did I really wake you up?” You asked as guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

To your knowledge, Bakugo was a heavy sleeper.

He eyed your timer again.

“No.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t really know what else to say. You stopped the timer before it could make noise and stood up, placing the mug on the counter and picking up an oven mitt instead. The cookies smelt amazing as you pulled them out and part of you wanted to taste one, but the other part worried you’d get judged for eating it so late. Instead, you placed them on a rack to cool and took another sip of the tea.

You felt his gaze on you.

“Aren’t you gonna eat one?” He asked.

You shrugged for the second time,“They’re too hot right now, maybe tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow.” He deadpanned.

There was no way your face wasn’t red as embarrassment flooded your mind, now you felt even worse for him being awake despite him saying it wasn’t your fault. The heat of the tea concealed your blush but fogged up your glasses, which was arguably even more mortifying, as you suddenly remembered that you were wearing them. No one ever saw you in them. You always made sure to wear your contacts in class and in costume for training, around anyone besides your parents.

Before you could do anything about it, the frames were plucked off your face and you watched dumbfounded as Bakugo used his t-shirt to clear them back up for you. You briefly eyed the tiny sliver of skin exposed by him using his shirt.

“Why can’t you sleep?” He brought the lenses up to his eyes to make sure they were good before placing them back on your face.

The question was unexpected, the whole interaction was, in fact. He was the last person you’d expect to care. Well… you didn’t know if he actually cared but still. You gulped, did you want to confide in him? You were never really close, I mean, sure, he didn’t yell at you the way he did the others and often times you’d worked together and managed to take care of your assignments without arguing. But you weren’t friends. At best, he tolerated you.

While you continued to hesitate, he walked over to the rack of cookies and plucked two out of the bunch. He bit into one, showing no signs of liking or hating it.

“How is it?” You couldn’t help seek validation, even if it was from him.

He held out the second cookie to you and you took it. One bite, two, they were fucking amazing. Not to toot your own horn, but if you were good at anything, it was baking.

He finished his off but said nothing on the taste or quality, you had a feeling chocolate chip wasn’t his favorite but didn’t dare ask what was.

“You gonna answer my question?”

You sighed and took another slow sip of tea before the mug was pulled from your hands and you watched Bakugo tip it back and down the rest. You watched with an open mouth as you didn’t know whether to be offended since he’d made it for you or go red at the fact that he’d drink from the same cup as you without care. As he rinsed the mug in the sink and set it down to wash later, he looked back at you with raised brows, okay…

“I’m worried.” You fidgeted with your fingers now that you didn’t have the mug to hold onto,“About Midoriya, about the fate of Japan… the world, actually. I wonder how it’ll all end, and whether all of us will—”

Your voice cracked, you took a deep breath,“You know?”

He sighed. “You gonna cry?”

Okay, that kinda hurt, you thought to yourself. Stubbornly, you held in your remaining feelings as you shook your head, you couldn’t say no or else you’d definitely shed a tear or two.

“Worrying won’t help him, or any of us.” He spoke up after a second,“What you need is rest, so that when they need us we’re able to do something. I know it’s all words or whatever, but that’s about all I can offer. Put your shit away, I’ll walk you back to your room, that tea should be kicking in any minute now.”

You looked at him with a questioning gaze and he scoffed.

“Relax. I didn’t slip you anything, I drank some too. It’s just some shit I buy, it soothes and helps you sleep. C’mon, I’m tired.”

You nodded and left it at that, quickly working to put your baked goods in a cute cookie jar you’d purchased once and writing a note for your classmates to help themselves and that they were fresh. You added that you’d clean up your dishes in the morning and your initials at the end with a smiley face. When you turned back around, Bakugo was waiting and he let you walk ahead of him.

It didn’t take long to reach you door, but when you did what he said surprised you.

“Leave your door open. Mine will be too.” He didn’t say it, but the implication was there. He’d be there if you needed anything.

“Okay.” Was all you responded with.

You didn’t know if it was the tea, or the fact that you felt a little lighter after telling someone a bit of what you were feeling, but you were definitely starting to feel tired and you couldn’t help reach up to rub one of your eyes.

“Nice glasses.” He teased.

You were thankful for the darkness to hide your blush as he ended it with,“Night.”

He was already walking away when you whispered so low he surely couldn’t have heard it,“Night… Bakugo.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ #vanishingstarrs

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bahrtofane · 11 months ago

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kylians sick, and only you can make him feel better

word count - 1.1 k+

watch it - pure fluff ^^

-----

kylian feels like shit. a pile of straight garbage. what he thought was a small headache and stuffy nose has snowballed full force into the worst cold he’s had since he was like 5. at least he hopes it’s just a cold.

his eyes droop wet and cloudy with the tears that he keeps blinking away. he desperately wants to go to sleep but the constant leaking of his nose and the feeling of being permanently submerged in water from his ears down is making that impossible. his left ear hurts with each movement of his head, god forbid he yaws, not only does it send a shock wave of pain to his ear but also makes the swelling of his sore throat that much more apparent.

his head pounds, phone long forgotten somewhere tossed on the floor. and to top it all off he thinks he’s running a fever. it’s so cold, no matter how hard he tries to sink deeper into his mattress, hugging his comforter tighter, he can’t fight the constant chill that creeps up his spine.

it’s around 2 am last time he checked. god fucking dammit he just needs to go to bed. he so desperately wishes you were here, to kiss away his frustrated tears, tuck him into bed properly, make him feel better. but he doesn’t want to bother you. especially not at this time. he can power through this, he knows he can.

hours pass by in agony. the sweat has pooled in his sheets, sticking it to him and permanently settling in a cold he can’t shake off. it’s shit. he feels like shit. he probably smells like it too. And to make everything so much fucking better training is first thing tomorrow morning. Shit shit shit shit.

why does this always happen to him at the most inconvenient of times. what it the hair he didn’t dry off before bed 2 days ago? the coat he didn’t wear when taking the trash out? ice water he drank after practice? holy fucking shit, he writhes in his sheets and comforters again, silently praying to any entity out there to end this suffering.

the pain and exhaustion is what knocks him out. for better or worse.

——-

kylian eyes open blearily, blinking away harsh rays of sunlight and crusties from the restless night. when he wakes he realizes one of two things, 1) it’s way, way, past training, and 2) he feels impossibly worse.

he doesn’t get out of bed, mainly because he just can’t. the pain has immobilized him, fearing if he so much as moves an inch it’ll sink him further into helpless suffering.

so he whines pitifully and closes his eyes tight.

——-

he’s woken up again, but not by the sun, or pain. it’s the sound of his door opening that startles him awake. lovely, absolutely marvelous. he’s fucking bed ridden and about to be robbed. what a time to be alive.

the footsteps don’t sound like an intruders, soft and gentle as they pad around his apartment. kylian waits in silence. what if it’s someone sent to check on him? hakimi most likely.

when the door to his room opens he’s never been happier to be wrong.

it’s you, standing in his hoodie, wrapped in one of the blankets he leaves on the couch. a god send.

you take one look at his feeble state and frown.

“kyky?”

all he can do is manage a garbled response, more of a pitiful whine.

you rush over, kicking the blanket off and rushing up to cup his face in your hands.

“my sweet baby, are you sick?” you murmur.

a weak nod.

“shit you're burning up, hold on.”

you come back with a thermometer, gently opening his mouth and setting it under his tongue.

“hold still baby.” you whisper, hand holding his jaw in place, he almost melts into your touch.

he waits for what feels like hours, till the little beeps go off and you gently remove the plastic from his mouth.

“you have a fever all right. i prescribe to you bed rest, lots of fluids, and tylenol for the pain. “

he blinks sleepy and you take that as an answer.

you get to work tidying up his room for him while he blinky sleepily as you.

"just rest, I'll call the team for you."

he goes back to the safety of sleep the moment you finish your sentence.

—--

when he wakes out yet again, its to you at the foot of his bed, and a bowl of spoop in hand.

he grimaces at the thought but you shake your head, "you gotta eat baby."

he all but sobs trying to get up to eat properly, but you make it work. gently spooning the hot soup into his mouth.

it takes a little while but the soup is half done when he calls it quits. flopping back into his expanse of pillows and blankets.

he makes a noise and you feel his hand desperately reaching for you, as meek as can be. you give it to him, gently swiping your thumb over his.

bed time proves to be a hassle as all he can do is groan in pain, begging for you to join him in the very few words he can croak out.

“if i get sick, who will take care of you? “

he stays silent, out of spite or inability remains a mystery as you tuck him into bed properly and take your things to the guest room.

——-

thankfully, it is just a cold and he’s back to his usual self in no more than 3 days. all thanks to you.

he’s a quiet type of thanker, thanks lies in his actions and eyes rather than words.

the gentle hand that rests on the small of your back, picking you up even if its just a 5 minute drive. he gets you flowers, and even takes you out to dinner.

your smiles the whole way and it makes him beyond happy.

he finally gets those kisses he wanted to bad, easy and smooth against his skin.

"thank you darling." he hums, hands on your waist, bringing you close.

you smile against his lips, melting into them once more. you sit on his lap at the edge of his bed. at the edge of the world you feel sometimes.

"come to the match?" he almost begs.

"always."

"I have a jersey I want to see you in." he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"when do you not want to see me in your jersey?" you playfully roll your eyes.

he snorts, flipping you into your back, mercilessly attacking your sides with tickles as you burst at the seams.

you laugh till you cant breath, and he's enjoying this all too much. collapsing into you when he's had enough.

"your heavy." you squeak.

he pretends not to listen, you resort to kicking him off.

"wheres this jersey ?"

he immediately jumps at this, taking your hand in his to lead you to your 50th jersey of his at this point. you don't mind, if anything it fills you with pride and joy to wear his jerseys. always his.

#kylian mbappe #kylian imagines #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe imagines #football headcanon #football imagine #kylian mbappe imagine

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vividxpages · 5 months ago

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✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩‧ The Great War PART 3₊✩˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 1 + PART 2

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2700

summary: You've made it to Dragonstone, but there still is distrust against you in the air and Jace has had enough of it.

warnings: nightmares, arguments at council

a/n: Thank you for all the love this little story has been getting. 💕 I'll upload all three chapters on my ao3 account too!

𓆩♡𓆪

We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair And we will never go back

Fire ghosting over your skin. Warm brown eyes looking into yours from across the dinner table. A first shy kiss, exchanged in the safety of a childhood bedroom. Naked feet on cold stone. Hatred racing through your veins as you watched your brothers bully him. Learning what a bastard was. A dagger in too small hands. Blood sullying the floor. Tears Suffocating as the advisors of your family talked about endless marriage arrangements, tucking on your arms like you were a doll about to break in half. Your dragon and his, dancing in the sky. and anger and nothing to be done about it. A sapphire eye watching you closely. Sister…what a delight it’ll be to end you-

You awoke with a strangled gasp, shooting up and gripping your own throat to rip away the cold hand you had just felt there. Nails scraped over your sensitive skin, nothing to hurt except for your sensitive flesh.

The darkness of the bedroom stared back at you, a silent monster in the corner of the room, far away from the few candles that were still burning and dripping on the window sill.

Your own breath was too loud in your ears and quickly, you clamped a hand over your mouth and closed your eyes, trying to silence yourself.

Silky blankets pooled down at your waist and as quietly as you could, you looked over your shoulder at Jace sleeping peacefully next to you. One arm outstretched into the space where you just had laid, he had not awoken from your startling. His mouth was slightly open and his dark curls were a stark contrast to the light pillows his head was resting on.

Earlier tonight, you had been attending dinner before retreating back to his rooms together. You both had sat by the window, sharing a bottle of exquisite wine before falling asleep, inseparable and cuddled together in his big bed.

Perhaps the liquor had been the mistake.

It had been some days since you had arrived at Dragonstone, but so far you had not been able to shake off the memories of King’s Landing and your family. You had tried your best to hide your unease, despite how lucky you felt to finally be by Jacaerys’ side, but the nightmares came for you anyway.

You took a deep breath and touched your healing shoulder; the bandage having been changed by Jace just this morning. You were here and you had nearly paid with your life for it – gratitude should’ve followed you with every step. And still, the wheels in your head kept on spinning.

Jace let out a small huff in his sleep, his hand flexing as if his subconsciousness told him you were not in his embrace anymore. You brushed the sweat away from your brow and forced yourself to lay back once more.

The tension seeped out of your bones as you cuddled closer to Jace, gladly accepting the warmth of his arms around you, his sleeping form hugging you to him like a beloved childhood trinket. His cheek rested on top of your head and you placed your hand on his heart, feeling how calmly it beat underneath your palm.

All you needed was some rest and those nightmares would not come and plague you anymore, you tried to tell yourself. Everything was alright now, Jace and you would be alright.

You tried to believe your own thoughts and drifted off into sleep again, own hand still on Jace’s heart as the other found its way into his hair.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You should’ve expected that it was a mistake for you to be at council.

The newest wounds of the war were still fresh and you could not deny the resemblance of you and your kin, a girl with light hair but the wrong features and blood walking through the mighty halls of Dragonstone. For Jacaerys, there had been no question whether to bring you along to the council meeting or not.

To him, you had always belonged.

Belonged to his family and to him, without any hesitation.

But this was not shared among some members of the council and so, when you had walked in by Jace’s side, you already had felt the skeptical gazes of the lords in Rhaenyra’s services. When you sat down next to Jace and they knew you were not going to leave again, you knew it was going to be a long day.

Throughout the meeting, it did not get better.

Whenever it was your turn to provide usual information about Aegon or the ones in his service, you could feel the doubting looks of Rhaenyra’s council men on you, questioning your honesty and barely listening. Across the room, Baela gave you a sympathetic smile as you were once again cut off, reminding yourself of your own mother in Aegon’s council.

Unheard and powerless.

Where you had been forced to leave off, Jace often continued the conversation, pointing out various things you had told him in the privacy of his chambers, but when Rhaenyra turned the conversation towards possible methods to block the capitol’s provision system, one of the older Lords finally had enough.

“I believe it is wiser to discuss such matters without the presence of the prince and his…company.” One of the lords interrupted Rhaenyra. “A raven does not take long to reach King’s Landing after all, Your Grace.”

You blinked in surprise.

Beside you, Jace tensed visibly.

“And by all means, what are you referring to with this?” Rhaenyra asked tiredly, rubbing her temple.

“I only mean the best for the purpose of our rightful Queen and I doubt the presence of our newest guest here on Dragonstone benefits such meetings as this one.” The lord smiled slyly. Even Rhaenyra seemed to stunned to give an immediate answer.

You watched as Jace’s hand curled into a fist on the hilt of his sword.

“My lord, I do not intend to ever go back to King’s Landing, nor do I wish to correspond with my brothers.” You formulated your words carefully. It was at least one benefit of your upbringing; you knew how to control your temper while you could almost feel smoke coming from Jace next to you, the dragon in him barely staying under his skin. “I’ve chosen my side in this war. Vhagar and her rider did not chase me across the bay because my brother and I thought of it as an entertaining game.”

“Then why have we not once received a demand of the princess being returned back to the capitol?” He challenged you and you tensed, jaw locked. “I’ve warned the members of this council of such a reckless decision, stating that it is as grievous as an open attack in the field to help one of their spouses, a girl too, escape and yet I was ignored.”

“You had no say in this matter.” Jace cut in, glaring at him from the other side of the table. Your heart fluttered at his stance, the powerful will in his eyes to defend you in front of everyone. But you were not quite done yourself yet.

“You also seem to overestimate my importance in this conflict, my lord.” You regarded him cooly. “If I can be of service for my queen with any knowledge I might have, I will be. But my family does not need me by their side. I could’ve thrown myself out of the highest tower of the Red Keep, it would’ve been just as indifferent for them.”

But you knew the damage was already done.

You wore the colors of your beloved now, the colors of the true Queen and yet they saw Alicent Hightower when they looked at you. Or worse, a vicious vessel of your brother right in their middle, having seduced the eldest son of their queen, to mess with his mind and outplay them. A witch, a whore, a spy.

After your harsh statement, only the crackling of the fireplace could be heard through the hall, your chest aching with how much you had to fight yourself not to show your fury and distress.

“All I’m saying is-“

“I believe we’ve heard enough from you-“ Jace interrupted him curtly.

“that the whispers our sources passed on to us are not to be treated lightly. If they are true and it has been planned to wed Aemond with his sister, the very woman who warms the bed of our young pri-“

“One more word about her and I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to my dragon.“ Jacaerys exploded, his voice thundering through the council room.

“Jacaerys.” Rhaenyra called for order. She glared sternly at her oldest and the guilt in your stomach only intensified. You were the reason it had escalated like this. “You’re dismissed from council for today. This conflict is already complicated enough, I don’t need arguments in my own rows. And you won’t ever speak about her and or son in this manner. Or I will be the one feeding your tongue to my dragon.”

Embers still burned in Jace’s eyes as he stared down the lord. You stepped to his side, tugging at his sleeve in order to get his attention, but he stayed fixated on the man, the desire to run him through with the sword he carried evident on his face. Had he even heard his mother’s words?

“Jace.” You said quietly. “Let’s go, come on.”

Your beloved did not look at you yet, but you felt the smallest tension drain out of him as you rested one hand on the hilt of his sword. Slowly, as if he was considering it in his mind, he stepped back from the table, turning to look at his mother.

“My queen.” He nodded once and swallowed, voice shaking the tiniest bit. “If this…insult to me and her decides to roam the hallways of our castle after today’s meeting alone, I cannot guarantee your council won’t be missing one of its members tomorrow.”

You could feel his hand shaking in yours as you led him outside, bringing a safe distance between the two of you and the council. It felt like Jace was about to rush back and draw his sword if you let go of him now.

When you reached one of the alcoves by the windows, the breeze from the sea refreshing your mind, you stopped, allowing yourself a moment to lean your head against the wall and take a deep breath. You could hear the waves crashing down on the shore, the faint screech of a dragon in the distance…

Once you were ready to open your eyes again, Jace’s dark ones were already on you.

You looked at each other, content in the silence between you. Not able to help yourself, you gave him a sad smile and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Well, I suppose this wasn’t a very successful council meeting.” Your voice sounded tired to your own ears.

Jace was not done yet, but you could’ve figured he wasn’t. “He was in the wrong to insult you like this, you are the princess-“

“I’ve done nothing so far to gain their trust except for leaving my home behind.” You pointed out.

“They should trust you simply because I trust you.” Jacaerys argued, shaking his head with a grimace. “Instead, they’re splashing out their poison, undermining me and my mother’s authority for our decision to bring you to us, to safety.”

You sighed, pushing away from the wall and stepping in front of him, cupping his face in your hands. He closed his eyes at your soft touch, exhaling through his nose and shuddering just like Vermax did sometimes. To your relief, he leaned into it after a moment, accepting the small comfort.

“Their words mean nothing to me.” You whispered. “The only thing I’m regretting is giving you such troubles…”

“You could never trouble me.” Jace said in all honesty, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. After a moment, his gaze darkened again and he added: “And you’re not going to marry Aemond. I will not let that happen. You don’t ever have to go back there and we’ll stay together, alright? I’m going to meet my end before I’ll let any harm come to you.”

You shook your head, not letting him see how much the thought of losing him terrified you. “Their sources are wrong. There have been no plans of marrying me to anyone. Like I said, my family does not see me as this important. They already have one sister as queen.”

“You are important to me.” Jace asserted, his hand a comforting presence on your waist. “You are my princess, always have been.”

You sighed, leaning his head against his shoulder and letting him hold you in the empty hallway. There was nothing more you wanted to do than melt into him, safe and sound in your prince’s embrace. How different things would’ve been for the two of you if there had been no war. Back in King’s Landing the fantasies of what could’ve been kept you awake at night, wondering if Jace and you would’ve been long betrothed now if your mother had never claimed your father had changed his mind on his deathbed.

But none of it mattered now.

The past could not be changed and neither could be your alliances and your love for him. You had chosen and you had done it well.

“I love you.” You murmured and he mirrored your words with a sweet kiss, one finger delicately lifting your chin and hugging your waist. The kiss built you up, made you feel strong and loved and unshed tears sprung into your closed eyes at the tenderness he treated you with.

“I love you too, my princess.”

His princess. You smiled into the crook of his neck, blushing although the unease of the council meeting had not yet left you completely. Jace’s warm breath brushed over your ear and you were sure he was going to stand here with you for hours if it made you feel better.

Your fingers played with his curls and you placed a little kiss on his throat. “Care to take a quick ride?”

“In the sky or our bed?” Jace murmured and you drew back abruptly, a cheeky grin already on his face.

“Are you the same prince who threatened to feed a man’s tongue to Vermax mere minutes ago?” You teased him back, although his question did spark some…creativity in you. “Because I do not recognize him now.”

He chuckled as he took your hand and urgently led you outside, the salty air and the sunshine of the day brushing away the last bad memories of earlier. You could see your dragon and Vermax dance with each other above the grounds of Dragonstone and everything seemed a little brighter now. On the slope, red poppies grew and he bent down to pluck on, delicately placing it into your hair.

You smiled at each other as you held still.

“Let me race you and if you’re lucky, I’ll think about that second option.” You smiled brightly at him, although you knew you could not resist him anyway, not when it had taken so long to be by his side. And Jace brushed your comment aside as he sticked out his tongue, knowing well enough that it did not take much to get you riled up, just as he always desired you, every minute of his day, forever.

All of your problems were not solved.

War was on your doorstep and you knew this was only the beginning of a long fight.

But when you ascended into the sky with Jacaerys on Vermax by your side, you knew you were not standing alone anymore.

You had him and the love you two shared and no war was ever going to be strong enough to change that.

taglist: @alyssa-dayne @littleblackcatinwonderland

#jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #harry collett #jace targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing

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hellinistical · 19 days ago

Text

Nahoya is gonna sleep on the couch for trying to get you riled up, but a quick fuck might make the punishment more enjoyable. Married, fem reader. m.d.n.i.

Tw: degradation, masturbation

WC: 1.3 k ish.

A/n: is it out of character? Yes. Kinda. But I write how I want to. Also not proof read. It's 4:00 in the morning I don't have time for that. -Taken from my archived account @/ yejiroh-

1…

2…

3 ...

The digital alarm clock that sat on your nightstand struck 12:00 o’clock, and once again, Nahaoya was not home. Probably cleaning and closing down the shop, you figured. But did it really take 3 hours? He’s been staying out late, saying that he was saving for his “pretty girl,” and honestly,

You missed him.

The ache between your legs grew as the A.C. turned on, the automatic function seeming to catch on at the worst sides; his side of the bed was getting cold.

Still, you kept your eyes open, no matter how heavy they became. All the way until the alarm went off once again, signaling the turn of the hour- now 1:00 o’ clock.

And whoa and behold, the front door’s locks clicked open- your husband had come home.

Quickly, you turned over, keeping your eyes closed as you tried to steady your breathing. There would be no acknowledgement tonight. Not if you could handle it.

Hearing his heavy footsteps come closer, and the lights in the halls flicking on, you sucked in a breath as your bedroom door opened- and again as you felt the bed dip from his weight.

A hand came to your waist, running down your sides as your husband relaxed. He bent over, kissing your cheek before sighing.

“‘Missed you, baby,”

Your eyes opened, albeit abruptly, before you quickly turned over, grabbing the hand that lay on your wrist.

“Pardon?”

Nahoya smiled, his peachy curls bouncing. “I knew you were awake. You’re not slick.”

He flicked your nose before laying down,

“Is that what you wanted to say? That you missed me? That you needed me? That you wanted me? That it pretty girl? You know I’m busy, don’tcha?”

He turned over, grabbing one of your hands before placing your index in his mouth, running his tongue over it, sucking it lightly.

“ ‘hoya…”

With a ‘pop’ he released it, laughing.

“You missed me so much you’d get wet just from me sucking your finger? I haven’t even been gone that long, Y/n.”

“ ‘hoya, that’s not fair…”

“Uh-uh. What’s not fair is not tellin’ me what you want and denying yourself. That’s what’s not fair, baby. “

Grabbing your hand again, he licked your index, then kissed your knuckles.

“Look at these nails, baby. Who paid for these?”

“You…”

“That’s right. And do remember why?”

He was playing you, you realized. Playing you like a fiddle just so he could get fucked. Staying out late just so you would get needy, whiny, and eventually, mean.

Two could play at that game.

You pulled your hand away, putting the finger he had been sucking on in your own mouth, watching as his breath hitched. He was getting excited.

Taking your finger out of your mouth, you examined your nails, the peachy pink that matched his hair so well not chipped and still glossed over. The set he wanted to see on his dick.

“You told me to get these to wrap around your dick.”

“I did,”

You sat up, placing a hand to his chest before straddling him. Nahoya hadn’t changed into his pajamas yet- he’d been too busy trying to stir you. . taking his tie, you tied his hands to the bedpost, watching as his chest rose and fell faster, feeling his crotch get warmer underneath your thighs.

“Pretty girl?”

“Hush, ‘hoya. You’re not getting a say in anything tonight.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“‘Cause, you’re an asshole. Staying out late just to get a good fuck.” You mimicked him. “You’re not slick.”

You unbuttoned his shirt, making a point to crease it as you tucked the sides underneath him. His nipples were hard, goosebumps rising as the cold air hit him. Hooking a finger under his pants, you yanked them down, looking up to grin at him before yanking his boxers down, his hard cock resting against his stomach, tip leaking.

“Y/n?”

You got off him, untying his hands before pointing at his dick.

“Make yourself feel good. Tell me how it feels, ‘hoya.”

“Huh?”

“Jerk yourself off like I had to every night you decided to stay out late. You thought that was funny? As a matter of fact, you probably jerked off enough thinking of me playing with myself, right? What a pervert you are.”

Nahoya glared at you, reaching out just for you to take a step back.

“I untied you so you could know how it feels. Go on, ‘hoya.”

The smile on his face was nowhere to be seen, except for a smirk.

“Alright. Fine, I will. “

Bringing his hands to his cock, he gripped it and starting from the base he made his way up. Over and over again, he ran his hand up and down. Little pants of excitement soon turned into pants of frustration as he couldn't seem to get off.

"Y/n...I need your help."

"Sorry?"

"I...I need your help."

You scooted closer to him, kissing his cheek before patting his tip.

"Don't worry, honey. If I could get off by myself, so can you! You can do it. I believe in you!"

Your husband grits his teeth, getting more aggravated as his hand went faster. He spits into his hand as if trying to provide some sort of lubricant.

And as his frustration grew, so did yours. Watching him play with himself wasn't supposed to make you feel bad; it wasn't your punishment. But still, seeing him get sweaty and hearing his heavy breaths made your own neediness rise.

Finally, you crawled back to him, taking his hands away from his dick.

"You're fucking pathetic, ya know that, 'hoya? Can't even get off on your own, yeah?"

His head hit the pillows, lips parted as you gripped his cheeks. Slipping your panties off, you guided his dick to your entrance, slowly letting it fill you up. Lord, you had forgotten this feeling. How Nahoya's cock filled you up so well was the world's eighth greatest mystery. The underside vein throbbed against your gummy walls, and the both of you moaned.

"You're still not in the clear, 'hoya. Don't you forget that. I'm just using you to feel good. After this, you're going to sleep on the couch for the next week. Understood?"

"Yes'm!"

Your pussy clenched and he gasped, his back arching, pushing his cock deeper into you. You had forgotten how sensitive he was.

Gripping your thighs, he raised you up before pulling you back down.

Your mouth opened, wanton moans slipping from your tongue. Oh, you had missed this.

Becoming drunk on the feeling of his cock dragging against you, arousal came down your legs and onto Nahoya.

He pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing circles on it fast.

Going faster, seemingly chasing after his own orgasm, but you were close too.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, and his grip got stronger, nearly bruising your thighs.

Nahoya's moans turned into whines as you took the lead again, putting your hands in his hair as you bounced on his cock, taking great care not to pull too harshly on his curls, knowing how tender-headed he could get.

Leaning over, your breasts pressed against his chest, and you kissed him greedily. That seemed to be the breaking point. Nahoya gasped loudly as his legs shook violently underneath you, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, hugging it. He pulled himself closer to you as he came- hot spurts of coming shooting into you. Then gripping your shoulders, he panted heavily, and then you came, right after him. You squirted, juices covering both him and you, and you practically screamed.

He pulled out, then pulled you down on top of him, hands going to your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a lovely pat.

Sticky and satisfied, you pushed yourself up, smiling at him.

"You're still sleeping on the couch."

#pandoras box writing #hellinistical #x y/n #nahoya x reader #nahoya smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tr nahoya #nahoya kawata #nahoya kawata x reader

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tomasweetheart · 1 year ago

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I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?

JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader

sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?

warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'

notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3

Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.

When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.

It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.

But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.

And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.

Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?

When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.

"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."

"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."

"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."

"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."

After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

Kuroo could have sworn it was real.

The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.

It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.

Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.

Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.

He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.

Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.

When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.

"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"

You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.

"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."

You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.

"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.

You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —

All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.

"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."

He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.

#love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x m!reader #hq x reader #hq x male reader #hq x m!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x m!reader #kuroo fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo my love.#light of my life my sweet pie

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judasgot-it · 10 months ago

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String Me By My Sins, So I Can Be Clean

Scenario: You found out. Yandere!Fyodor x Reader. Part 1 Word count: 1.2 K @ceramic-raven because you encouraged me to write a part 2. I hope you don't mind being tagged <3

Sitting in your small bathroom, you stared at a small patch that stared back at you.

21 mg. Nicotine. A beige-colored patch.

Just a minute ago, it had been adhered to your skin while you were sleeping, as if you had put it on yourself.

You don't smoke. You never smoked.

The only person you knew to smoke was Nikolai or Fukuchi, but you didn't know them to use patches. They only smoked socially, on good days when they could people watch or when Nikolai could show off vape tricks.

Fyodor had never dared to touch a cigarette, always claiming it as a hazard to his health. His lungs were probably as weak as the rest of his constitution, so you believed it.

So why the hell was it on your skin?

You wanted to ask him yourself, but he was sleeping.

Was it a good idea to wake him up?

You looked out into the darkness of your shared bed with Fyodor, looking at his sleeping form. His small frame was curled in a pile of blankets, curled against a feather pillow - like the princess and the pea, as you could see that he never looked truly comfortable.

The patch could be left for the morning.

He was smart. It must have had some sort of reasoning, shouldn't it?

Fyodor always found things out with almost no context needed. He could figure out the reason. You trusted him.

You had gone back to the bathroom. The patch was missing.

The trash, for once, taken out. In fact, it seemed the whole apartment had been meticulously cleaned.

You remembered that patch stared at you. The pain of removing it from your skin. How hard you had to pull it from your skin.

So where did it fucking go?

"Hey babe!"

You called for Fyodor, knowing that he was most likely working on the same projects that he always was. Whatever it was, he would be able to answer you, right?

There was no response from him this time though. You called again, but you were left with silence.

Padding towards his 'office space' you found that he had his headphones on. Was he busy today and hadn't bothered to tell you beforehand? Usually, he was rather meticulous about that.

Gently, you poked his shoulder, hoping to get his attention.

Fyodor only grunted, giving a sign of recognition. You tried again, hoping he would respond.

"Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about something that happened last night."

Fyodor turned only slightly, his eyes still facing his screen - absorbed on whatever 'work' was on his screen. Code that you never bothered to learn to understand, that became a source of frustration as it seemed more important now.

"Yeah, what is it?"

Complete disinterest.

"I found like. A nicotine patch, last night. On me. Fyodor, that's weird, right?"

His eyes finally looked at you, although they were only glancing, at best.

"It is. You don't smoke, do you?"

"What?"

You took a moment to look at him. What the hell was he implying by that? He knew you never did. You always rejected them, since he was so sensitive to smells.

"If you do, you can tell me. I won't judge you."

His voice was soft, unjudgemental at the implication of you even having an addiction. You tried to keep calm through you frustration.

"I don't smoke. You know I don't, asshole! It's really weird that it showed up on my body like that, isn't it?"

You hoped he would help you. But he didn't even seem to care about your predicament so far, instead lazily moving typing commands on his keyboard like a sort of wizard.

"It is weird. If neither of us smoke, then how did it get there, hm? Maybe someone is playing a prank on you. Do you have the patch? We can figure out more about it from there."

He had leaned back, as calm about this conversation as anyone could possibly be. You wanted to kill him.

"It was on the bathroom counter when I took it off last night. I can't find it though!"

You couldn't help raising your voice at the end. For some reason, your frustration was building up so easily it was nearly boiling over.

It wasn't fair to take it out on Fyodor. He gave you a look as well, because well, you knew that you were being emotional about this.

It was just weird. Why was this upsetting you so much? You weren't usually upset so quickly like this.

"Sorry. But I'm being serious Fyo."

Trying your best to calm down, you took a deep inhale. Your lungs filled with air, clearing your head, if only a little.

There was still a frustration coursing through your veins, making you want to pull at Fyodor's hair for being so...well, him. Just being himself, right now.

Is he doing it on fucking purpose? Is he trying to piss you off as much as possible?

He's the smartest man you know, this isn't any real detective work. Fyodor knows why you're feeling the way you are. He can clearly tell that this actually happened - that you aren't fucking crazy.

So why is he acting like you are?

"Of course you are. I believe you, sweetheart. But what's the real problem here?"

His tired eyes slowly blinked at you. There was an emotion lurking in there, but you really didn't know how to describe it.

It was gentle, but not kind.

"Well. It was put on me. That means someone is drugging me. It's violating."

"I can see why you feel that way, yes. But maybe it was just an accident? People on the street these days are rather crazy-looney."

Fyodor had the gall to laugh as he said that, finding humor in his own words as he didn't find your plight worth crying over. There was no fret - being drugged was an everyday occurance.

Tomorrow you could be stabbed with heroin and it would just be an everyday occurrence, right? Worse things could happen to you. Maybe you would accidentally inhale deadly amounts of cocaine since this was just normal.

"Oh I can't believe you."

You left the room. At that moment you just wanted to punch Fyodor.

Did he always look that punchable? With his stupid smirk and pale, dead-looking skin. His eyes seemed so dead, with no read smile attached to them.

It was hard to look at him without feeling enraged.

"And where do you think you're going, sunshine?"

"Anywhere! If I have to see you again, I would probably. Oh!"

You made a noise as you kicked the door, rushing to just get out and get away from the source of your anxiety.

It felt natural, running outside and walking - letting the adrenaline in your body take you as far as it would let you.

Where were you going?

A hand on your arm stopped you. You turned around, the calm face that matched the pale skin - his dead purple eyes were smiling, although it made you stop dead in your tracks.

Where were you going?

You didn't have anything besides Fyodor.

"Please. Just leave me alone."

"You're being irrational, my dear. It's embarrassing."

The hold he had on your arm was tight, some hidden strength he carried that you never knew existed. Pulled did nothing, and there were tears pushing against your face as you felt the feeling again -

Trapped.

"Please. Fucking just. Let me go."

Shaking his head, Fyodor pulled you in - his face rested against your forehead, but the pull his hand had on his scalp was anything but gentle.

He was mad. About what?

Why did it always end up this way?

Honestly this can be stand alone, but YAY i finally finished this !!!! To the people who wanted this, I hope you enjoy this cuz this was kinda lot for me idk why.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor bsd x reader #yandere bsd #yandere fyodor #yandere x reader #hey fellas ignore the fact this took forever to write btw

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thestraybunny · 8 days ago

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I (do)n't need you Pt. 2

Pairing: Non-Idol Joshua Hong x Afab!Reader WC: 12.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Exes to Lovers Rated: M (18+, MDNI) Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smoking, Drinking, mentions of sex

Summary: With you and Minjun now broken up, and Joshua telling you he needs you over, is this a sign that the home that was once you and Joshua can be repaired?

A/N: So these fics are already written, which is why I put them out fast. Part 3 will not be posted until this weekend. I am still working on the 3rd installment of the Seventeen K-Series, which will be Wonwoo Jeonghan (changed due to story timelines). Thank you for welcoming me so warmly. I do hope you enjoy Pt. 2

If you haven't read Part 1. Part 3 has been posted.

Eight-Fifteen AM.

Those red numbers on Joshua’s nightstand clock glared mockingly back at you, being the latest thing that your attention landed on. Silently begging for sleep to take over. It had been a struggle, since every time you did manage to fall asleep, it was only for a few minutes at a time before finding a new object to stare at. Very much aware of him holding you.

With the feeling of his soft breath against the back of your neck, his arm wrapped around your waist as if it’s an anchor, sleeping soundly. Something you should be doing too, knowing that if you could relax enough, it would easily be the best sleep you’ve had in months. Except your racing thoughts and body buzzing wasn’t going to let you.

No matter how relaxed you tried to get, nothing was helping, nor was the cast of warm morning light through the curtains. Lighting the small bedroom with soft rays of the morning sun.

Well, there was one thing that would help, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. You missed that with him, and you knew that if you woke him up, Joshua would happily indulge you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. At least not yet.

Being in Joshua’s arms again was such a surreal feeling, like you were coming home again after months away. Familiar, comforting, a sense of belonging, but at the same time it was all different. But instead of subtle changes, there was noticeable ones. The feeling of his arms around you, the light brushing of his lips against your skin as he slept was familiar and something you had missed so much and were home. Telling you coming over was at least the right choice.

But it was all still different. The breakup, the months apart, and the fighting before that had created cracks and holes in the walls of that home. Windows blown out and boarded up, and it was going to take more than slapping a fresh coat of paint to fix everything. It was going to take time to patch things up between the two of you, to accept the differences to feel comfortable again in that home.

If you could fix it.

**Six Hours ago**

You weren’t even sure what even possessed you to rush over to Joshua’s the way you did, rushing over like the pain you had felt for the last seven months didn’t matter, but you did. You didn’t even change out of your dark purple pajama bottoms and teal sleep shirt either, just rushed out. It was a miracle that you remembered to grab your phone, keys, and even your shoes. It was like you blacked out, only coming to when you were standing at his apartment door; not even sure how you even got there.

You had stood there for what felt like one of the longest minutes of your life, your hand raised up in a fist to knock. An internal battle raging inside. A logical part of you telling you to turn around, to let go and let your heart heal; it was over, and you needed to keep trying to move on. But then there was the rest of you, your heart included, was screaming to knock. That you were there cause you still loved him and that your heart belonged only to Joshua.

Even still you stood there frozen.

When you did finally knock, it was with a held breath, with the door opening moments later, and you were met with a surprised Joshua. Standing there in grey sweatpants and black vest top, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open at the sight of you. Not expecting you to actually show up at his door after that message, but you stood there mirroring his expression. Your own eyes wide, and your heart in your throat.

Constricting anything you wanted to say to him while you stood there, unable to look away from each other. After what felt like eternity, it was Joshua who spoke first.

“Hey.”

For a moment, Joshua really thought he was having such a vivid dream about you that he could smell the sweet vanilla scent of your bodywash. He thought the dream was so vivid that he could feel the warmth of your body against his, with your skin barely touching his lips. Making it so easy for him to place featherlike kisses over it like he used to when sleeping like this. It was a dream he never wanted to wake up from, to stay in a deep sleep if that meant you were in his arms, until reality started to hit as sleep left.

His eyes fluttered open to be met with the familiar color of your hair and the soft skin of your neck. His arms were really around your waist, gripping at your sleep shirt with his fists, keeping your back flushed against him. One of your own hands was resting on his, while your other was tucked under the pillow you were using.

He didn’t move for a moment, in fear that this was a trick and that he was in another dream only to wake up alone. Like he had for months, and telling himself that he didn’t miss this feeling, growing tired of lying to himself. He didn’t want this to be a trick, and he was stuck in another dream, only to be woken to the reality that didn’t include you.

If this dream wasn’t real, it would break him from how real it felt.

When you let out a soft sigh, it had snapped Joshua out of his inner battle. Fuck, he wasn’t dreaming. You weren’t a figment of his heartbroken mind. You were actually there. You were real.

Slowly, he lifts his head up to get a better look at you, watching as your eyes close and he knew right away that you hadn’t been sleeping. The soft sigh being the first telltale sign, since it was normally reserved when you were restless, unable to clear your mind of thoughts so you could comfortably sleep.

He could feel your body relaxing in his arms, but he also knew you were having trouble staying that way. Was it him? Was he holding you too tight and you weren’t able to get too comfortable? He was holding onto like you were going to disappear if he let go, so it might not be helping. Could it be because he was touching you at all?

Nothing more happened except for a few lingering kisses, Joshua didn’t want to push you further than that without you giving him a clear sign. Even if all he wanted to do was to strip you naked to show you how much he truly missed you. To praise every inch of your body, seeing that if what he remembers you like still rung true. He wanted whisper all the sweet words into your ear that he couldn’t for months.

Except he didn’t. Instead, he made sure to show you by the way he kissed you, keeping the desperation at bay, and the way he spoke with you. You didn’t push to talk or for more, so he didn’t either, both of you content with just being close again. Very little words being exchanged, not wanting to spoil the moment that cocooned you.

Maybe you were feeling different in the morning light after the high and adrenaline dissipated from sleep. Maybe he started talking in his sleep and said something that made you change your mind. Helping you realize that this was a mistake after all, or you truly was moving on while he stayed in limbo. Struggling between needing you here and letting go.

To him, having you here with him felt right, more than right, and that he was so stupid for letting you go. That he should have never let you go. To him, having you here was giving his heart hope for another chance. But who’s to say that you felt the same after all this? You being here had to be a sign.

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, letting go of your shirt, to give you more space when what he wanted to do was snuggle more into you. Considering getting up and making some coffee, think about the things he wanted to say to you. Figure out all the ways he could ask for forgiveness and get another chance to make things right. Hell, he was willing to bow down to you and beg you if that’s what it took. He might still do that anyways.

Your hand grabbed his when he went to roll away, causing him to freeze.

“Where are you going?” You asked, your eyes still closed.

“Just to the kitchen, Darling.” He answered softly, watching you roll over in his arms to wrap your own around his waist. Your face now nuzzling into his chest and taking a deep breath in like you were taking in his clean scent. “I didn’t want to keep you from being able to sleep, so I was going to get up and let you.”

“No. Don’t go…” You whine, your voice mixed with exhaustion and need, and Joshua could feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. In this position, your body started to relax completely, and sleep took over (what he didn’t know was for what felt like the hundredth time that night).

Pressing his lips against the top of your head, it was Joshua’s turn to watch the clock on his nightstand.

Ten o’three AM.

It was the smell of coffee and cooking food that caused you to stir, waking up to find yourself alone in Joshua’s bed. The bedroom door was open, giving you perfect view of his kitchen from the bed, and where he was moving around to make breakfast. Singing softly to himself, one of his go to songs, with his hair a mess from sleep and still in his pajamas. Looking like he hadn’t gotten much earlier than you.

Rubbing the remaining bits of sleep from your eyes, the events of the night before replayed in your head. From telling Minjun to have fun with his friends all the way to waking up single and in your ex-boyfriend’s bed. How a chance run in with Joshua lead to a call from Jihoon, of all people, and setting in motion the events that happened over a few hours. It was crazy how easily you believed the producer too, not even giving Minjun a chance to defend himself or even possibly gaslight you. Or it was just your excuse of an out and you didn’t realize it.

You didn’t even let yourself get hurt by him, yet here you were in the bed of the man who broke your heart. So willing to rush back into his arms after that same phone call from Jihoon, and not even think twice about it. Possibly making a huge mistake. You weren’t sure if you owed him a thank you or a punch to the gut or both. Only way to know was to leave the bedroom and talk to Joshua.

Sitting up, the sheets fell to your waist, but you didn’t need to look down to see that you were still in your pajamas. Joshua didn’t try to push further then kissing you or lightly touches to your arm and face, seeming to pick up your hesitation to jumping into that. Leaving you feel grateful and reminded of the kind and considerate man you fell in love with. The real Joshua, not the man who broke your heart months ago.

If you wanted to, he would have given it to you without hesitation, knowing he was ready to please you in ways that made your body warm at the thought. There was too much uncertainty though, the cracks and holes in the walls needed more attention than your need to have sex.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he moved around, disappearing briefly out of view only to appear with two plates. He catches your gaze when he looks toward the bedroom, a smile spreading across his face that turned his eyes into little crescents. The same smile that you used to be greeted with every morning you stayed over.

It filled you with warmth while tugging at your chest, but you smiled back, nevertheless. Joshua didn’t wait for you to get up and come out, instead started walking toward the bedroom and you.

“Good morning. Hope you’re hungry.” He spoke for the first time when he went to sit at the edge of the bed next to you. His eyes asking if he could kiss you like he used to, testing the waters with his eyes and not his words.

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but neither was he. It reminded you that you were in the same boat, not sure what was okay to do and what wasn’t. Hours earlier, all you both wanted was to just lay in each other’s embraces, too exhausted to talk seriously nor wanting to ruin the comfort of the moment with bringing up the past just yet.

But that past brought unspoken boundaries that were once not there, and neither of you knew how or if you should cross them. You were more hesitant about it then he was, even if he was testing the waters with looks rather than his words. It motivated you to also dip your toe in.

When you dropped your eyes down from his to his lips then back, Joshua took this as you giving him the okay. As he starts to lean in, you spoke up, “I have morning breath though.”

“Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked, smirking because you knew he was right. There were once mornings when you both would stay in bed, unable to detach your lips from each other from the moment you woke. Not giving a single shit about morning breath or brushing your teeth. When you shook your head, he then asked another question. The question he was asking with his eyes. “Could I kiss you good morning, please?”

You ignored the parts that were telling you not to, that you were building yourself up for disappointment, leaning forward with the intention of a quick peck. Just to feel his lips again, maybe start to make up all the lost good morning kisses, to pull you both out of limbo. That peck quickly turned into his tongue gently dancing with yours, with one of his hands grasping at your jaw gently. Using his hold to pull you closer to him, so you were now sitting on your knees on the bed, and your own hands resting on his covered thighs.

One thing about Joshua is that he loves to kiss, and if you let him, he would kiss you for hours on end. Only breaking away to take a breath or your lips were raw. So, it took you off guard when it was him who broke away first, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes closed as he steadied his breathing, it didn’t sound like the way he would when controlling his arousal, it was one that was trying to control his emotions.

Then he pulls away, shaking the hair that was falling into his face away as he smiles at you. One that barely met his glossy eyes, missing this as much as you and haunted with the knowledge that you were not there in his bed as his girlfriend and that you were still exes. You weren’t the only one to see the cracks and holes in the home that was you and him. Even the foundation was unstable and shaky. It was overwhelming for him as much as it was for you.

Of course, you wondered why this wasn’t easier? Why couldn’t you just fall back into that happy world that you both made together? Like nothing ever happened between you with all your problems melting away.

That was a scenario for a perfect world, and this was nowhere near a perfect world. You weren’t delusional enough to think that it was going to be that easy. No matter how much you wanted it to be.

“Come on, let’s eat.” His voice was soft as he stood, offering you his hand to help you off the bed. On you took with no hesitation. Just because its not going to be easy, doesn’t mean you aren’t willing to try.

“Okay.”

**A year ago**

You rolled over and reached out for Joshua, only to find his side of the bed empty and he was already up before you. The entire apartment smelled like food and coffee, and you watched the way he moved around the kitchen from where you laid. Making breakfast, despite it being your turn to make it.

Joshua loved to sleep in on his days off, which is why you originally agreed to switch off, so he could sleep in, but he would still get up to do it when you stayed at his. He even did it when he stayed over at your place as well, causing you to get up much earlier then you wanted to beat him to it. Even if it was your day off too.

Pulling your attention from him, you twist your body in the sheets to stretch, your body remembering the night before by how sore your muscles felt. In your stretch, you reached for the pillow he would use to nuzzle your face into it. Laying your head on this pillow instead of yours, your eyes traveled back to the man moving around in the kitchen.

His dark hair tousled from sleep, and the only thing he was wearing was a pair of pale pink pajama bottoms. Giving you perfect view of his toned body and even glimpses of the marks your nails had left on his back when turning away. Choosing to hum the melody of a song that he was working on with Hansol, instead of outright singing it.

After laying there for a few minutes longer, admiring your boyfriend as he cooked, you finally got out of bed. You didn’t bother looking for the pajamas you had originally gone to bed with the night before, those thrown in different parts of his room and out of sight, just grabbing a new pair from your drawer. Choosing a pair of silk shorts and matching shirt to put on before making your way out of the room to his kitchen.

The moment Joshua laid eyes on you, a wide smile spread across his face, abandoning the eggs he was cooking to greet you. His hands grasping your hips, pulling you to him before moving them to your ass.

“Good morning, Darling.” He made sure to say before pressing his lips against yours, and naturally you melt into him. With your arms around his neck, you two quickly lost yourselves in each other and your make out.

“Good morning to you too, baby,” You smile as you break away briefly, playfully bumping his nose with your own before he kissed you again. Both of you losing yourselves in each other’s mouth and touch until the smell of something burning met your nostrils and you pull completely back. “The eggs.”

“Oh shit!” Joshua twisted around to rush to the stove, and you could only stand there laughing. He made quick work to dispose of the burnt food, only to stand there watching you laugh at him. His own smile and laughter bubbling over.

The last time breakfast was this quiet, it had been the weekend before Joshua had broken up with you. You had gotten into another fight over broken plans once more, this time you had gotten tickets to see an artist that you both were into. He had even agreed and seemed excited to go, giving you hope that maybe a night like that will help turn things around, only for him to bail at the last minute saying he couldn’t go.

Claiming he had to work late with Jihoon and Hansol, but really he stayed home to get drunk with Seungcheol and Jeonghan. The only reason that you had even found out was because Joshua started to talk about something that happened that night with his two best friends. Catching him in the lie when you went to question it more, and it led to a large fight. One that resulted with you sleeping alone in his room while he took the couch. He had stopped you from leaving, not wanting you to leave since it was so late, but he didn’t want to be around you.

To this day, you wondered if he heard you crying yourself to sleep behind the closed door, hurt and wondering what you did to make him treat you this way. Trying to figure out what went so wrong with the two of you, and what happened to the man you fell in love with. Not the stranger sleeping on the couch. It only made for an awkward silence at breakfast the next day, the once delicious meal now flavorless and lacking warmth.

The last meal.

But this breakfast was nothing like that. The difference between the two breakfasts was the atmosphere. You weren’t mad at each other, nor was silence uncomfortable and awkward like it was that morning. The feelings were different, the awkwardness, it was because neither of you knew where to start the conversation. How to even start it.

Joshua was just as lost as you were when it came to this, not sure how to bring up the elephant in the room. Both of you sitting next to each other at the kitchen island, eating breakfast that was full of flavor and warmth this time, the only sound was your utensils hitting the plate.

“Do you really regret this?” It was you to break the silence, pushing around the last pieces of your hashbrowns on your plate, looking toward him. Joshua was in midchew when you asked this, stopping at the sudden question, then proceeded to set his own utensils down while finishing his bite. “Do you really regret breaking up with me?”

“From the moment the words left my mouth.” He answered honestly, and you searched his face, but mostly his eyes. There was pain, regret, but there was still so much love in there for you and you knew he was telling the truth. “I wanted to call you back, I should have called you back. I really don’t know why I didn’t.”

“You gave up on us though.” You tried to hide the crack in your voice, your thoughts going back to the months of wondering what made him give up on the two of you.

“I am not trying to start a fight here, but you gave up on us too.” Joshua retorted, and you had to swallow back the offense that was bubbling when he was telling the truth. You didn’t asked questions, you didn’t fight him, and you try to convince him that you could make it work, but instead you took the breakup lying down. “You didn’t try to fight for us either. You just accepted it.”

“You’re right. I didn’t fight it.” You answer in a small voice, not bothering to try and refute something that was true. You essentially gave up on both of you as well, snuffing out the fight that you had in yourself. He wanted to break up, he didn’t want to make things work, and you accepted his decision. “But, even if I did, would it have made a difference?”

Joshua didn’t respond at first, just looking down at what was left of his food, lost in thought. You were right that it wouldn’t’ve made a difference at the time, but maybe it would have motivated him to call you back the moment he hung up. Or it would have just made everything so much worse, causing the broken home to crumble into ruins.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t the boyfriend I should have been and that you deserved at the end. For just giving up. Instead of trying to find the root of the problem, or make a better effort on my end, I searched for reasons to avoid you. In fear that the moment we saw each other, we would just fight. Instead of working things out, remembering just how much you really mean to me, how much us being together means to me, I just gave up. I hated it, the fighting and the fact that my lack of effort caused me to lose you.” Joshua finally spoke after a painful minute of silence, reaching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours. Your gaze dropped to your intertwined hands.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I hope you showing up means that you are willing to give me one anyways.” He finishes with a soft squeeze to your hand, and the softest of smiles.

It was your time to sit in silence, your gaze steadily staying on your interlocked hands. He was right, you showing up like you had did give that impression. And maybe you did. You didn’t deny missing him, didn’t deny that being here with him was resonating those strong feelings still within you. Everything was looking over both of you, and he was more than willing to take that chance again, but how willing were you? Giving him that chance to break your heart all over again.

Or you breaking his heart this time.

“You can’t take all the burden, and I won’t let you either. I wasn’t the best of girlfriends either. I started fights with you over trivial things, I prioritized things over you too just to avoid fighting, which only led to more fighting. I should have done more myself, so you can’t take all the burden,” You finally tell him, not looking up just yet. “I also just broke up with my boyfriend.”

“I understand.” The way he said this, it made you scared to look at him. Not wanting to see the rejection playing across his beautiful dark round eyes.

“I broke up with my boyfriend, and instead of crying over it with a bottle of wine, I ran to you…” You still wouldn’t look at him, watching his thumb stroke your knuckles. Not letting go of your hand.

“I am not really sure where you are going with this,” He lets out a nervous chuckle as your name fell from his lips, and you chance a glance toward him. You could see his eyes shining now with a mixture of confusion, sadness, and hope.

“I honestly don’t know either.” You answer him honestly, with your own low chuckle. “I don’t know if I am ready for this, or even should be jumping back into this with you. I don’t even know what completely possessed me to rush over here like I did, especially when I was able to walk away from you before this. Walking away though, it only fueled the lie that I was better off without you. That I will be a better person from all this. But I also don’t want to lie to myself anymore, and I know I will regret walking away more than trying again.”

“Hey, wanna know something?” Joshua didn’t miss that you wouldn’t let go of his hand either, instead tightening your hold on it. “I don’t know either, but I miss you that is for sure, and I have no intentions of messing this up again.”

“I miss you too, more than you ever know, but we don’t even know if this is still anything, Joshua.” You tell him, but there was now determination in his eyes. It made every part of you vibrate, while your heart pounded against your chest at the sight of this. He was serious, but you still had your concerns. “We didn’t make it work once. Who’s to say that we will this time?”this

“We don’t know, but that’s the whole part about trying again. I experienced losing you once though, and if you give me the chance,” You aren’t sure if it was you leaning toward him, if it was him leaning in, or if you both were as he says this. His other hand pushing back a piece of hair that was of place, his nose lightly brushing against yours as he continues to speak. “I don’t plan on making the same mistake twice.”

The kiss shared after this declaration backs up that he means every single word, as did the feeling you still felt. Even with all the doubt and uncertainty the hung in the air, one thing was for sure, those feeling never left. Yours were still very much present as was his. They never tried to go away or lessen with time.

It was clear the moment you saw him again the previous night, when you walked into his apartment again, when he kissed you timidly for the first time in months, and it was still very present now. Every part of you responded so well and naturally with him, yearning for him. It caused you to be the one who deepens the kiss, and Joshua was more than happy to oblige.

A part of you wanted to just pull him over to his couch, a place you spent many nights tangled up on to watch movies or other activities when the movie got boring. Or even back to his bedroom, strip each other of your clothes and make love again. You didn’t want to care that may contradict what you were trying to do, rush back into anything that intimate with him, but his words fueled that side. If he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, neither will you.

Then the kiss ended, and Joshua couldn’t stop from smiling.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He suddenly asks, releasing the gentle hold he had on you, sitting back as you blinked at him. “You aren’t ready to get back officially yet, and that’s fine. But that doesn't mean that I can’t court you, spoil you, or take you on dates. Do it until there is no doubt in either of our minds that this will work out.”

“Okay,” You answer, and that smile only widens before he plants another kiss against your lips. Unable to contain his excitement, but you pulled from the kiss, “I have to work tonight. The group I work with have a performance. I need to be there by four today, but after tonight, they are taking a brief break to focus on recording their new album. I will be free until either the company assigns me to another group, or the girls do their comeback.”

After the words left your lips, you had a sickening feeling at the pit of your stomach. This has been one of the many problems the two of you had. Work. When you weren’t working with a group, you would either be assigned to fill in for other makeup artists or other staff members. There was stints where your schedules would be filled with comeback stages, tours, performances, or any other activities that you were needed for, but then there was stints where you would even be lucky to be called in at all.

Groups and Soloists maybe always debuting, but there was just as many disbanding all the time. Work may seem plentiful, and it could be, but it was not steady unless you found yourself with a successful group. Joshua worked nearly exclusively for Jihoon as a songwriter/musician along with Hansol, and with Jihoon’s success, he had a steady and consistent schedule. He normally was home by a decent hour unless they were on a crunch to get songs written and worked out for artists.

Your jobs were different, even if they were at the same company. Which was never an issue until toward the end of the relationship, turning it into a weapon to avoid each other or an excuse to fight. You both were guilty of this, and a part of you wondered if that was enough to make you both backtrack. There was still so much doubt and insecurities heavy on your mind, but he made you feel like there was a glimmer of hope for your relationship. Something that you hadn’t felt in such a long time.

You must have been wearing the concern all over your face, because Joshua could only chuckle before pecking your lips with a quick kiss.

“How about tomorrow night, then? Go to dinner with me? Let me treat you,” He asks when sitting back, turning his attention to his coffee. There was not a single shred of annoyance or hints that he was going to change his mind. “We both were stupid for getting upset over things like work, and our schedules is something that we can’t avoid. We made it work once, and we will make it work again.”

“Tomorrow night then.” You not in agreement, both agreeing to the date and that you were also going to work on this too.

“The hell do you mean that you are taking her out on a date tomorrow night?” Jeonghan asked trying to hold back his annoyance as he sat in the same place you were sitting at that morning. Instead of food Joshua cooked and coffee it was several bottles of beer and soju with boxes of take-out spread in front of the two. “Last I knew, she had you blocked and was with that guy she was flaunting all over her socials.”

What originally was going to be a night in for Joshua to relax and actually process the last twenty-four hours turned in an impromptu hangout session with his best friend. The moment the other man walked into the apartment, he was able to pick up the change in his mood. Appearing to be in a lot better one then he had been when leaving the bar the previous night. Hell even in months in fact. Lighter. Happier. It didn’t mask that there was still a heaviness to him, but the change was quite noticeable.

It took Jeonghan a minute to coax out what Joshua was so happy about, and his reaction was one that the younger of the two had expected. Jeonghan never had qualms with you before, after all he was the first person you became friends with when you started at the company. He would find you annoying at times, even though he was just equally annoying, but he had always liked you well enough. But another thing about Jeonghan, is that he hated seeing his best friends or anyone close to him hurting, and while he was the first to call Joshua out on his bullshit after the breakup, you still became public enemy number one in his eyes.

Even if it was Joshua who had initiated the breakup, he hated how much it effected his friend and how much it actually did hurt him. He watched it chip away at him for months before, and well after. He would often catch him looking at what you would post to your story, your page, or even photos he had saved on his phone from your relationship. Jeonghan would listen to him lie to everyone that he was over you, that he wasn’t regretting his choice, and that he wasn’t bothered that you cut off contact with him.

Even though he couldn’t fault you for cutting him off, he still carried a mindset that made it easy for him to see posting Minjun was a way to flaunt him in front of Joshua. He didn’t think to consider what you were going through, trying to live like it wasn’t painful because that didn’t matter to him. His best friend was hurting, and you were the root cause of it.

“She broke up with him last night, but didn’t tell me what happened. Just that she was wasting her time and so was he. Something had changed her mind from when I ran into her to her unblocking and following me again on Instagram, but she won’t tell me what it was.” Joshua sighed, taking a drink of his beer while the other man just stared at him. “She ended up staying over.”

“She stayed over? I get you have history, but she sure jumped into your bed pretty fast after breaking up with that guy.” Jeonghan mused as he took in what was being told. Joshua gave him a look, knowing he was judging you and jumping to conclusions. “Can’t say that’s a good look on her. Makes me wonder…”

“Okay, stop. We didn’t have sex first of all, we fell asleep together.” Joshua didn’t hide the annoyance in his calm tone, shaking his head. “And you can stop hating her, you know. We both messed up by not working on problems that were fixable, and I broke up with her. You seriously can’t just hate her for this.”

“Bold of you to assume that I haven’t been calling you plenty of names in my head, or even telling you off. Quit trying to take all the heat off of her, you selfless bastard.” Jeonghan didn’t miss a beat, looking forward as he takes a generous swig of his beer. Making a satisfied groan as he sat the cold bottle down, “Fuck that hits the spot,” His attention then is back on Joshua, calmer with a soft sigh, “I don’t hate her by the way. I never hated her. I don’t think I have the capacity to hate her, it’s not like she killed your cat or anything like that, but I am well within my rights to not like her. She was barely a friend when you decided you wanted to get with her. I empathize with her as much as I empathize with you, but you are one of my best friends. You come before a barely there friendship. Of course you don’t come before my rock and…”

Joshua had started chuckling until he heard the beginning syllables of a name but stopped when Jeonghan froze. The younger of the two just watched as his best friend was quick to turn his attention away from him to grab his beer, trying to cover things up with a cough.

“Even if she wasn’t the one who ended things, she still played a part. She still hurt you enough to make you even want to do that.” The older of the two cuts him off before Joshua could say anything, before waving his hand in the air dismissively, “You want to get back with her, then do what makes you happy, but don’t expect me to pick up the pieces if you break up again. Just expect a huge ‘I told you so’ and a punch to the gut for putting us through that again.”

Joshua just let out a laugh at his friends baseless threat, knowing full well he would be there for him, watching as he opens the phone and started typing rapidly on it. This was going to be the closest he was going to get as a blessing from his best friend, who gave him a half smirk. With the way he had his phone angled, Joshua couldn’t see who he was messaging, just that his fingers were typing furiously.

“Who are you texting?” Joshua didn’t even need to ask, his phone going off indicating he had gotten a message in the group chat that was designated for their large but close circle of friends.

“The rest of the guys.” Jeonghan tossed his phone onto the island to focus on the rest of his meal. Joshua gave him a dirty look, “What? You didn’t tell me not to tell anyone. Besides, you hardly check the chat anyways, so you’ll miss most of us talking shit. Not about her, but you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m an angel.”

**Three years ago**

“Josh, I want you to meet someone,” Jeonghan clapped his hand onto Joshua’s shoulder, jolting him out of his daydream. He didn’t hear what was said, since his headphones were on, but when he twisted around he was met with a smiling Jeonghan and one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. You.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, and this earned an eye roll from his best friend and colleague before he plops down while you took a timid seat next to Jeonghan. Joshua’s eyes didn’t leave you, though he answered the other man before addressing you, “Oh, hello there.”

“You should always know when I am around, one headphone out. I don’t like repeating myself.” Jeonghan chided as he draped his messenger bag over his seat. He grabbed one of Joshua’s kimbap pieces and popped it into his mouth. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Jeonghan proceeded to introduce you as a new makeup artist to the company, letting Joshua know which group you were assigned to. You give him a small smile as you nod your hello’s and all he could do was stare at you.

“She just moved here from, where you from again?” Jeonghan turned his attention to you for an answer, a smile starting to crept over Joshua’s face. You tell both men, the both of you unable to tear your eyes away from each other, “Yeah, there. You guys can talk in English and shit.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua.” It didn’t go unnoticed that Jeonghan didn’t actually introduce him, just you, but that didn’t bother him because he got to speak to you. Reaching out his hand, you took it to shake, and he liked how soft yours felt. Or how delicate they felt between his own.

He might be in trouble.

“Nice to meet you, Joshua.” His name fell off your tongue like it was a prayer that was coming true.

Oh god, he definitely might be in trouble.

“Wait, wait. Let me get this right,” Kami spoke as she took a deep inhale of the cigarette she was smoking, while you leaned back against the wall. You and her had just finished getting the girls ready for their stage when the taller woman declared she needed a smoke. You had to accompany her, which made it clear that it was just an excuse to corner you. Catching your different mood. “You broke up with Minjun last night, a guy you seemed to really like, just because Jihoon called you to tell you he was a creep, and instead of hearing him out… you went and spent the night with Joshua?”

When you had walked into the waiting room that was designated to get the idols ready, Kami had zeroed in on you. Besides Joshua and Jeonghan, Kami had been one of your first friends when moving there, and through her you met Ruby. The older woman was in charge of the outfits and dressing the idols, while you did their makeup, and the two of you were quick to become best friends.

After three years of knowing each other, Kami liked to believe that she knew you well enough to sniff out changes in your attitude, mood, and sometimes even diet. It was sometimes scary how she just knew.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I need to have a talk with that short bowl of rice.” Kami muttered, and you only laughed as she took another drag.

“He’s going to deny it, he told me he was,” You pointed out, and the other woman dropped down in what looked like a tiny little ball. Her long black hair in a messy bun on top of her head, and her dark painted cat eyes staring at you with intensity.

“And you actually believe him when he said that Minjun and his friends were saying all that about you? That this wasn’t Joshua using him to get you back.”

“First, I think we both know Jihoon well enough to know that he doesn’t meddle in drama or even the affairs of others. You can’t force that man to do anything he doesn’t want to, especially a ploy like this. And Joshua wouldn’t do something like that either.” You tell her, looking forward with a sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know if Jihoon was telling the truth. I think I honestly was just using it as an excuse to break up with Minjun, because when I sent that break up text and blocked him... there was a sense of relief wash over me. Guess I didn’t like him as much as I thought.”

“And your first thought when experiencing that is to run right back to Joshua? Your fucking ex-boyfriend, and not just let your hoe flag fly high instead?” Kami asked, dropping the finished cigarette onto the ground to snuff out before picking it up to throw away. You couldn’t stop the small smile that was gracing your lips, thinking about Joshua.

There was still so much that needed to be fixed, but the pain was not as strong when thinking about it. It was so much lighter, slowly being replaced with bits of hope and excitement. When you left his apartment not long after breakfast, Joshua had kissed you so sweetly that you almost started thinking about excuses to get out of work just to stay around him. Spend time the day wrapped up on his couch or bed.

“It wasn’t like that was my whole mission all along.” You tell her, standing when you saw her grabbing her cigarette from the ground.

“Was the sex as good as it used to be?” Kami asked and you twisted your head to look at your friend in surprise. Which honestly you shouldn’t have been, since it was Kami, and she had a dirtier mind the Joshua and his large friend group combined.

“We didn’t have sex.” You tell her, and it was her turn to look at you with a mixture of surprise and doubt. She didn’t believe you. “We didn’t, Kami.”

“You’ve got to be lying. There is no way.”

“Would I really lie about that?” Kami gave you a pointed look and you let out a small laugh, “Yeah, yeah, don’t answer that. But I promise you, we didn’t.”

“You went to his apartment at like three in the morning, and you expect me to believe that you didn’t have sex with him? You have lost your mind.”

“I swear on Felix that I didn’t sleep with him,” At the mention of your kitten, Kami easily relented, but you could tell she was apprehensive, “I won’t lie, the thought crossed my mind, several times, and I am very sure he also thought about it, but neither of us went for it. We don’t even know if we are going to get back together, or if this is going to work. We’re testing the waters.”

Kami opened the large door that lead to the backstage area of the studio, and together you went back inside. Stopping by the restroom so she could wash her hands and touch up her perfume.

“We’re going on a date tomorrow night.” You confess your arms crossed before smacking at Kami when she suddenly flicked water into your face.

“Sounds to me like you’re getting back together.”

“It’s a date, not a marriage proposal.”

“You don’t know that.” Kami then stopped before you both left the bathroom. She grabbed your hands with now her dried one and gave you serious look. “I will stop with opinions for now, because you already know how I feel about that stupid ass Deer head. I will say this though, if he hurts you again, me and Ruby will make sure this time that he wishes he never came to South Korea in the first place.”

You went to go to ask her to not call him that but is stopped when she gives you a tight hug. One that you returned.

“Just be careful, okay? I’m too pretty for prison.”

You were exhausted when Kami dropped you off at your place at the end of work, choosing not to go out with her to meet Ruby for BBQ and drinks. You hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the previous night, and curling up in bed with your cat was the best idea to you. Even considered muting your phone for the night, and even well into the next day, except you needed it to communicate with Joshua over your plans.

Climbing up the steps to your apartment, you stopped at the sight of a small bouquet of flowers leaning against your door. Violets, Snapdragons, and Aster in pinks and purples, your favorite colors, with a small note in the middle. They were all beautiful and pet friendly since you had Felix. Making your way to the door, you picked up the bouquet and took a deep inhale of the different floral scents.

You entered the code on your keyboard to go into the apartment, trying to remember if you had a vase that would fit them since Kami currently has your large one. The small space was dimly lit and heavy with shadows of the furniture, so you made sure to flick the light on before moving further into the apartment. Felix was a black kitten and easily blended into the shadows, even with his reflective collar, so you had to be careful sometimes walking through your apartment. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally stop on him or kick him across the floor.

Luckily he was sleeping on one of the cat trees you had gotten him, not even fazed that you were now home. His little ears twitching from whatever he was dreaming about.

Kicking your sneakers off, you made your way into the small kitchen to find a vase that would fit the flowers. Pulling the note off in the process to read over as you did. Who it was from and the words on the paper made your heart flutter, even when you didn’t want to.

I was going to get you roses, but I remembered you had a cat now. So I got something that isn’t toxic to him, but still tells you how beautiful you are. I can’t wait for tomorrow night. -Shua

You didn’t want to smile like you were too or feel the way your skin warms across your cheeks, but you were rereading the note over and over. It wasn’t surprising that he was already doing what he swore he would do, it was Joshua after all. Getting the flowers into the vase, you moved over to your bag to grab your phone. Snapping a quick photo of the beautiful flowers, you sent it in the group chat with you, Kami, and Ruby. Kami had already been texting Ruby before you even got out of the car, and didn’t even hide that she was telling her.

You: img_052615.jpg You: These were waiting for me when I got home. You: And I don’t think I need to say who they are from. Kami can’t keep a secret worth her life.

You didn’t wait for a response before switching your phone to send a quick message to Joshua but stopping when you felt a brush of fur against your leg. Looking down you were met with a pair of beautiful yellow eyes and a small squeak of a meow. Felix had woken up and decided to notice you were home, so of course he was bothering you for dinner.

“Hello to you too, Feeler.” You coo out one of your many nicknames for the growing kitten, sending off the photo and a thank you to Joshua. Setting your phone down, you ignored the texts that were coming through to give your pet attention, “Let’s get you fed, and box cleaned before bed. How about that?”

You know you probably sounded crazy talking to you cat like they can respond, but you didn’t care because yours did with another small meow. The smile you were already wearing only got wider, turning your focus on getting him fed and litter box cleaned. Once done, you took the trash out before you finally started to get ready for bed. It wasn’t until after you showered and drying your hair that you even looked at your phone. With a few text messages waiting for you.

Ruby: Aww that’s sweet of him. Kami: Please gag me. Kami: Suck up.

You roll your eyes and chose to ignore the group chat, rethinking of talking to them about you and Joshua. To Kami, at least. Neither of them wanted to hear the sweet things Joshua was doing after hearing for months differently and helping wipe your tears. They had worked hard to keep you cheered up and helped you not think about him through the hardest times during the breakup, and you became that friend to them. The one that let the ex they never got over back in, proving their efforts were in vain because there was another chance.

Even if you weren’t even sure if there was anything to give another chance for with Joshua, you didn’t want to him walk out of your life again. Your home may burn down in flames, left back in ruins, or fixed enough to be amicable. After all you were friends before any relationship flourished, and even if it didn’t work out, you did want to salvage what you could of that.

The next message was actually from Joshua.

Shua: You’re welcome Darling. I’m glad you liked them. >< Shua: How was work?

You start to type up a response but stopped to stare at the words. The doubt and worry starting to bubble inside, making sure that you knew that it was still there and very much present. It made you feel a little guilty for feeling a bit excited to hear from him, but you didn’t set your phone down to forgo responding like you normally would. Deciding that you weren’t going to let those feelings get in the way anymore. It was just a question.

You: Long, but the girls killed is on stage. Per usual. Berry was actually pleasant to work with today. You: Kami wanted me to go out with her and Ruby, but I am exhausted. You: How was your day? Do anything fun? Or a whole lot of nothing?

After sending the response, you had tossed the phone onto your bed since you were only in a towel. In the time you got dressed, your phone had gone off a few times. A few from Joshua and your sister, and then one from the group chat with the girls. Your sisters texts were just checking on times to come visit, openly admitting that visiting you is a way to get away from your family and out of your home country for a week or so. Apparently your mother was pestering her to meet with one of her friend’s sons, and your sister was needing to make an escape.

Your family was great, but only in small doses. They were pretty traditional and could be overbearing to the ones who were not in the family. So you couldn’t fault your sister for wanting to get away.

The group chat was a video of your two best friends taking a shot together, before Kami flipped the camera off before ending it to send. Since she was the one who sent it, she captioned it.

Kami: We miss you, bitch. You’re coming out next time.

You roll your eyes, and Felix jumped onto the bed, meowing frantically for your attention. Slipping into bed, you barely get yourself under the covers before the kitten was on top of you, not even giving you a second to adjust comfortably in bed. Instead he just meows again and start headbutting your hand. Which moves to scratch the top of his head as you other maneuvers holding your phone to read the last set of messages.

Shua: I take it they know? Or no? I know I can’t be Kami’s favorite person. She still death glares me when she catches sight of me at work. Scares me a little. Shua: My day was uneventful, just laid around and then Jeonghan showed up with takeout and beer.

You move your hand away from the kitten to respond, only earning another set of meows from him and his paw reaching out to grab it. This makes you laugh, poking his nose gently with your finger.

“Let me answer and my hand is all yours, bubby.” You tell him, but still earned another round of protests. You try to respond as quick as you could since you were a slave to this animal, “You’re spoiled you know that.”

You: Laying around all day sounds so nice. Ngl, I am looking forward to a few lazy days until I got work again. You: They also know, that’s all I will say in that matter. But I don’t even need to ask. I already know Jeonghan knows.

You return your hand to pet the impatient animal, watching as the bubbles pop up and then disappear. Then they popped up again, before disappearing for good this time. With a tired sigh, you switched out of his messages to doom scroll. Not expecting a response.

Then a call came in.

Shua is calling.

“Hello?” You answer, your voice soft with exhaustion and surprise, and this earned an equally tired chuckle from him.

“Too tired to type, too much to type and I rather hear your voice then read your text.” His own voice raspy, reflecting his words, but you could hear the smile playing on his lips. His next words came out clearer, and nervous. “Oh, shit, I didn’t even think to ask if it’s okay to call you. I’m sorry, I can let you go if you want me to and call you in the morning.”

“You know I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t think it was okay. I know how you are with texting, and you know how I am with phone calls, but since you’re trying to text me more, I should try to talk on the phone more,” You tell him, and this earns another chuckle from him. He hated texting, and sometimes he would go days or weeks, once a few months, without responding to texts. He preferred talking in person or on the phone while you didn’t hate talking on the phone, but you didn’t like it and preferred to text instead. You used to have a compromise that was uprooted during the breakup, but maybe you’ll be able to find it again. Or an even better compromise.

“So, you are looking forward to some lazy days, huh?” He asked, picking up the little flirtatious tone in his voice. It made your cheeks warm, and your bottom lip find its way between your teeth.

“Yeah, I am. I love the girls, but it’s nice to take a break from Berry for a bit. I can do without her bad attitude or moods sometimes,” You answer honestly, and Joshua only hummed. It wasn’t a secret that visual of the group you were assigned to wasn’t very easy to get along with, especially with her stylists, so it wasn’t like you were talking shit.

You adored the girls from Magnetic, not hesitating to provide praise about any of the five, but with every job there is challenges. And Yu ‘Berry’ Bitna was yours, but you felt that Joshua wouldn’t say anything anyways.

“Maybe, if you would like… we can be lazy together a few of those days?” He asks, and you let out a laugh at the offer. It did sound nice to spend those lazy days cuddled up to someone than doing it alone. Yes, you had Felix or could invite one of your friends over to hang out, but there was something about the offer that you liked.

“Maybe, let’s get through tomorrow night first.” You tell him, and the sigh that left him wasn’t one of frustration or anything, it was heavy with sleep and for a moment you heard his breathing start to slow. “If you’re tired, get some sleep.”

“Does seven work?” He asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Does seven work for tomorrow night? I forgot to confirm a time earlier.” He repeats, making his question clearer.

You were silent for a moment, looking down toward the kitten that had fallen asleep on you, watching the way his little chest would rise and fall. It didn’t even occur to you that you didn’t agree on a time, so of course that needed to be figured out. This somehow made you smile even more.

“Seven works perfect.” You finally response, your own voice suddenly soft. Not wanting to disturb the kitten sleeping on you. “Now get some sleep.”

“I am. But hey.” Your name came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Yes, Joshua?”

“I love you.” The words rang in your ears, your whole body frozen, clear as day even with how tired he was. “I just wanted to say it… you don’t have to say it back if you aren’t ready. Just know I do, have not, and will not stop. Goodnight, Darling.”

“Goodnight, Shua.”

**Two and a half years ago**

“Hey, are we still on for tomorrow night?” Joshua stopped from walking away and turned back to face you. You check your phone to make sure you had enough time to get back to work. The girl group you were assigned to was filming a survival show and you were in charge of the girls makeup.

“Oh, yeah. Kami cornered me this morning to make sure I was. We are all supposed to meet at seven, right?” You asked and he only gave you a look. Not even half of the group that was going would be there at seven, but later, and you knew it. “I won’t be able to stay out late because we film at a different location tomorrow. Girls are filming a pre-debut music video, and we have to be there at what feels like the ass crack of dawn.”

“I wasn’t planning to stay late either, so I’ll probably dip when you do. I can be your escort home.” He answers and you made a show of rolling your eyes. “What?”

“Please, you really think Jeonghan, Mingyu, or any of them will let you leave early? The need someone to pin Soonyoung or Seungkwan with. And you live the closest to Seungkwan.” You tease. “I got to get back, but I’ll see you later alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Joshua nodded, and you reached out to give his arm a squeeze before hurrying back toward the practice room that filming was being done. You could feel his eyes on you while you walked away, and you had to bite your bottom lip to stop the shy grin grace your face. Not wanting Kami to see it and tease you.

You had been right about the next night. While the two of you had originally planned to leave together, you were the only one who managed to slip away unnoticed. Jeonghan had made sure to keep Joshua from leaving, causing you to go home alone. The next day you had found that it was Joshua who got extremely drunk and needed to be taken care of. Much to your amusement.

Even though you teased him through text, you still had food and different things delivered to him to nurse his hangover, before taking him dinner once you were finished with work. By then, he was already feeling better but played it up to keep you hanging out longer that night. All under the guise of ‘taking care of him’. You would have stayed regardless since you found yourselves binging on a show you found, but he wanted an excuse for you to play with his hair and massage his scalp.

Except you didn’t leave after the show finished, instead you had fallen asleep together on the couch. Waking up the next morning cuddled up in each other’s arms. It led to an awkward few days after, but you finally started to accept that something was there. Something he had already accepted the night before while Wonwoo and Mingyu took care of him.

Ridiculous. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous.

There was clothes thrown all over your room, as well as a few on the ground right outside your bedroom door, and two outfits laid out before you to choose. Standing there, you stared down at the two possible choices, with one arm wrapped around you and the other in front of your face with your thumb’s nail between your teeth.

One was a black skirt with a tanned oversized turtleneck sweater, soft to the touch, with the neckline thick and loose around your neck. The other was similar sweater, cream instead of tanned, but in place of the skirt was a pair of black skinny jeans with a few rips at the knees. Paired with some of your favorite boots.

Joshua just told you to dress casual, that the plans wasn’t calling for anything fancy, so formal wear was not a requirement. You couldn’t understand why it was hard for you to pick an outfit out, but here you were staring helplessly at them both. Looking over each one, you lost count of the minutes spend internally battling with yourself. All you wanted was to look good, and it only made you more nervous about your choices.

Six-Thirteen PM.

The time mocked you when checking it, another sigh falling from your lips. You already had your hair and make-up done, styling your hair down to fall in loose waves around your face, with your eyes winged out with your favorite liner and lips painted in a soft nude color. You thought doing this will make it easier to choose, but that didn’t actually happen.

You fucking hated clothes and felt life would be so much better without them. Why did you have so many to begin with?

Then Felix jumped onto the bed, choosing to lay on the black jeans, and you were quick to pick him up. With a soft coo to your voice, one that was reserved for your pet, you spoke, “Thank you for choosing, and I will trust your judgement, but let’s not lay on them.”

You had already thrown on a grey strapped top to wear under the sweater before slipping on the outfit, then fixed your hair when it got tousled in the process. With a quick check in the mirror, you jutted your tongue out to wet your painted lips as a satisfied smile graced them. This was an excellent choice, and you made sure to give the cat extra head scratches and a can of wet food as a treat.

Six Forty-nine PM.

There was a knock at the door while you were trying to gather up all the clothes that was thrown around, shoving the still hung up ones back into the closet and the rest in the hamper instead of taking the time to rehang or fold them.

“Shit,” You muttered, trying to close the overly filled hamper and gave up, at least your floor was picked up. Making your way toward the door, you stop to check yourself in the wall mirror before finally turning to open it. You went to playful scold him for being early, but your words were caught in your throat at the sight of him.

Joshua stood there, with a small bouquet of Snapdragons in his hand, looking nervously down at his phone. Your contact had been open in his phone like he was about to call you, and you didn’t miss that the photo was one of you both when you first got together. He had on a pair of dark blue jeans, a black leather jacket on with a matching t-shirt on underneath. His dark hair looked freshly cut and slicked back, giving you perfect view of his handsome face.

Even though you weren’t in anything special, just the jeans and sweater, Joshua’s eyes widened when he looked up. There was shine to them as he looked you over, taking in the way your hair and make-up was done right down to the outfit Felix had chosen for you. The gaze was intense, but so full of admiration and longing, with his hand moving to reach out to pull you to him. Making sure your lips were well kissed and needing to be touched up before leaving.

But he didn’t do that, those kisses from the previous morning were just memories then, instead he just stared at you as a grin graced his features. A wide one that made his eyes squint, but they never left you.

“You look beautiful.” He breathed out, locking his phone to slip into his pocket. You could feel your already warming skin grow hotter.

“Please, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in something like this before.” You shoot back, and he lets out of a small chuckle as he shakes his head.

“And I can see you in something like that a million times over and I will still think you look beautiful.” He points out, and you move to let him. You still needed to do a few things before you could leave.

“Come in, I am almost ready, but I don’t want to chance Felix running out.” Even with the hesitance playing on Joshua’s face, he didn’t stall to take a step through the doorway; not wanting the kitten to get out either. You watch as his eyes flickered over the small apartment at all the changes that have happened since the last time he was there. The day you broke up in fact.

The changes to you weren’t noticeable, but that’s because you had grown use to it all while Joshua still had the memory of that day. Photos and mementos from times together were no longer on display, they hadn’t been for months, but different things that meant something to you. Bits of furniture were either removed or moved to fit the cat trees, and a few cat beds for the cat. Cat toys strewn across the floor courtesy of Felix.

Even though there was still the same, like where you kept your dishes, where you kept your toothbrush, and where you leave your shoes, there was enough changes that it was a different world to him. He was going to have to relearn it all and get used to the way these things are now. As well as get used to the extra presence in the apartment.

Felix was on the back of the couch, his golden eyes wide staring at Joshua as his attention landed on the kitten. The two held each other’s gaze, close to a staring contest, before Joshua took a step forward. Felix almost looked like he was ready to run, the kittens eyes fixed on him.

“He’s going to bolt anyways, no matter how slow you go.” You let him know, and sure enough, the kitten was hidden under the dark grey couch. You bumped his shoulder sympathetically as you walked by him. “Don’t take it personally. He still does it to me from time to time. He’ll warm up to you soon. Let me grab my bag from my room.”

“So, there is a new restaurant that opened up a few blocks from here. Seokmin and Seungkwan swear by it, and even Jihoon thought it was pretty decent. Figured we can check it out, maybe catch a movie or take a walk after?” Joshua voice followed you to your room, though when you walked out, he was crouched to see if he could get Felix to come to him. “What you think?”

“I think, you’re not going to get anywhere with him tonight. I heard about that place, the Pretty U right?” Joshua nods at your question, “Kami and Ruby both went last week, and really liked it. They were talking about taking me some time, but if I can piss Kami off by going with you instead then I am definitely down.” You answer, making your way to the pile of shoes to throw on. A pair of ankle boots, with barely any wedge compared to one of the more heeled ones. The height difference would be obvious, with you being over 20 centimeters (8 inches) shorter, but that part didn’t matter to you. Because why would it?

And you knew he didn’t care either, in fact you remembered he liked that you were much shorter than him. Though it was mostly to mess with you by resting his elbows on your head or make some kind of short joke. Sometimes it would earn a playful smack from you as his laughter would ring out, pulling you closer when you tried to move away. His eyes would shine and be full of mischief.

Knowing him, something like that will bound to happen that night at some point, and you actually find yourself hoping he would. Let you both slip back into that playful part of your relationship.

“I don’t know about the movie. You know I have a habit of falling asleep in those theaters, they make it way to comfortable. Remember the last time you took me to one? You had to…” You stopped when bringing up this particular steamy memory, with your face growing hot and heat started to radiate down your body. Mixture of embarrassment and arousal. It didn’t help that you could see a smirk on him, remembering this particular memory.

The smirk only got bigger when he caught your eyes dropping down to his hand. The very hand that kept you awake in a dark corner of the theater. You don’t even remember the movie, just his hand and the way he would silence you with his mouth.

You knew the words were on the tip of his tongue too, a tease more than an actual suggestion, but he held back. Truthfully, it was tempting. The ease of the way you used to talk with each other was still there, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t a little rocky, with you both treading with caution. You hated that you were back to a stage where you would need to be careful with your words, and so would he. No matter how easy it was to slip in, there was still a period of adjustment.

But in order to fix a broken home, to smooth out the roads that lead to it, and make the foundation stronger than ever, you need this. While time didn’t do anything with the way your heart or body called for him, it still changed you as people and you had to learn those new sides. You weren’t just fixing and continuing a broken relationship, you are also creating a new one to blend in with the past you shared together.

Because of this, it made both of you unsure of the physical side, the more intimate side. You shared those kisses again months apart and you fell asleep in his arms as well. That was different than the act that was vividly playing over in your head. One that was actively playing in his head too.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You were scared to give him that side of you again so easily. Like you’re so easily giving him that second chance, even if you weren’t at the same time. Giving him your time again is one thing, but to give him all of you again so quick? Fuck, you did, but you also wanted to be sure.

“Let’s focus on dinner first then and go from there.” He brings you out of your thoughts by saying this, holding his hand out for you to take instead. And you took it without hesitation. “The night is ours.”

Hope you all enjoyed!

#Joshua x reader #thestraybunnyfics #svt fanfic #joshua hong fic #joshua hong x reader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong smut

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