#you asked a question with an answer in mind and ooh does it suck knowing that someone else knew more than you??

[jacob-blogs]

Honestly, I'll just sit right over here with my psych degree.

[heliads]

Hi I was wondering if i could request for Peter Hayes where they have a rivalry going on even though she’s super sweet and one day he gets doused with that memory erasing gas and she volunteers to look after him for the time being and while he has no memory he’s just really nice to her and confused and they fall in love with each other. And one day he somehow randomly gets his memories back but he pretends he doesn’t because he’s afraid she’ll leave him until he accidentally slips up and he has to confess that he’s in love with her and was afraid she’d leave him if he had his memory back and went back to his normal self please and thank you :)

ooh it has been WAYY too long since i wrote for divergent!! let's go

'missing link' - peter hayes

masterlist

The boy knows it shouldn’t be like this.

He feels– strange. Not right. It takes him a moment to realize that might have to do with the fact that he’s crumpled on the ground, and another moment to discover with startling unease that he does not remember ever falling. Nor does he remember what room he’s in, how he got there, or anything else for that matter. Where there should be memories, there is just a blank gray wash in his head, a slate wiped clean of countless experiences.

It should terrify him, the boy thinks, but for some reason, he isn’t reacting to it as he should. Never mind the fact that the boy is not aware enough of who he is to know how he should or should not react to things; finding oneself in a strange place with no memories is grounds for panic, regardless of who he was before all this. A strange calm persists over his mind nonetheless; it’s unnatural, like he’s been sedated or something. You know what that’s like, a voice whispers in the back of his brain. Who the hell is he to be familiar with such a thing?

Before the boy can make a decision as to what he should do, the sound of running footsteps right outside the door jolts him back to reality. Seconds later, a trio of people all dressed in varying shades of black skid into the room. They stare at him. The boy stares back at them. They all seem equally confused as to what is going on, which is weird because as far as the boy is concerned, he’s the only one with gaps in his memory. Surely someone here should have a clue.

One of the three newcomers steps forward, a girl with mousy brown hair. Her black t-shirt has a low neck which reveals a tattoo of three birds against her collarbone. “Peter, what the hell have you done now?”

The boy glances behind him, but there’s no one else in the room, so he assumes Peter is supposed to be him. “What?”

Bird Tattoo looks confusedly at her two friends. For some reason, the expression feels familiar. Maybe this girl spends a lot of her time unaware of her surroundings. It’s probably annoyed him in the past. “We heard a loud noise and wanted to see what was going on. Of course you’re here, that explains things. What did you do?”

“There was a noise?” Peter asks. He doesn’t remember hearing anything like that, but that’s hardly new to him by now.

Immediately, he knows it’s the wrong question. The confusion in the trio’s expressions shifts to genuine alarm. A new girl starts talking, shorter than the rest but by no means less unhappy with him. “Yeah, it was super loud. There’s no way you missed it.”

“Oh,” he says, because they seem to expect him to answer.

Short Girl furrows her brow. “Did something happen? You seem weirdly quiet.”

Peter peers up at her. “Why would you say that? Do I know you?”

Short Girl’s face flashes with anger, but when it becomes clear that Peter isn’t just messing around, her jaw drops. “Oh, no. I think he got into the memory gas.”

The third member of their trio has been silent this whole time, but the final man sucks in a low breath now. “That’s bad. That’s really bad.”

“Memory gas?” Peter prods hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Quiet Guy says, “I see one of the canisters has been tampered with. Your memory has been erased. It’ll probably come back later, but for now, you won’t remember who you are. Or any of the rest of your memories, for that matter.”

Peter stares at him. “Why the fuck would memory gas just be lying around where someone can stumble upon it? What kind of place do you guys live in?”

“You live here too,” Bird Tattoo interjects, “And besides, it isn’t just lying around. This room was locked, I think you broke in. This whole sector is off limits.”

“Then why are you here?” Peter points out.

The trio exchange glances again. “We have to do something about him,” Bird Tattoo says at last.

“Kill him?” Short Girl asks hopefully.

“I would prefer not that,” Peter interjects, earning him three identical glares.

Quiet Guy tilts his head to the side, thinking. “Stick him with someone else. Give him to Y/N. She knows him better than all of us, she’ll figure out something to do to get his memories back.”

Short Girl scoffs. “Yeah, she knows him because he hates her the most. I’m not so sure that’s the best plan.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Quiet Guy asks, and when both girls are silent, he takes that as his answer. “Alright, we’re taking him to Y/N. End of discussion.”

He offers a hand to Peter, who accepts the offer of help, although this only seems to make the three strangers more unsettled. Evidently, whoever Peter normally is with his memories intact, he doesn’t trust a lot of people. Given how shifty these three are, though, maybe that’s for the best. He follows the trio through strange, dark hallways and up flights of stairs until they’re in a long corridor lined with doors. Living quarters, his mind tells him, although he has no idea where that information came from.

Quiet Guy picks a door and knocks. A few moments later, a girl appears. “Hey, Four,” she says casually, “What can I do for you?”

Quiet Guy– Four, what a weird name– grimaces at her words. “We need you to babysit someone for us.”

“Hey,” Peter protests from the back of their little group.

The sound of his voice calls Y/N’s attention to him, and immediately her expression changes. Whatever friendly demeanor she had worn before is gone now, locked up behind a wall of unreadable blankness. “What’s going on here?”

Bird Tattoo glances behind her in the hallway, even though there’s no one there. “Can we come in?”

Y/N nods, holding open the door for them all to file into her apartment. Maybe he’s just overthinking, but Peter swears she looks at him the longest as he passes. The moment in which their eyes meet feels like it spans several years instead of just one second, but then she blinks and looks away to lock the door behind them and he’s lost his anchor, spinning out into a great sea of mystery once more.

Only once the door is locked and they’ve all moved comfortably away from hearing range of anyone still out in the hallway does Y/N return to them, arms folded across her chest, and ask, “What have you guys done?”

Bird Tattoo shoots a shifty look Peter’s way before speaking. “We found Peter down in some back hall. We think there was an incident with some memory gas. He has no idea who he is.”

Y/N’s jaw drops. “He doesn’t remember anything? Tris, tell me you at least took him to the med wing to get checked out.”

Tris shakes her head imperceptibly. “If anyone knew, they wouldn’t just ask Peter why we were down there, they’d ask us, too. It’s a restricted section.”

Y/N’s lips purse. “So you’re saving yourselves? Awfully brave, you guys. True Dauntless material.”

All three of them look guilty at that, which makes Peter decide immediately that he likes this Y/N girl quite a bit. Four speaks up at last. “He won’t be seriously harmed, I’ve seen this stuff used before. It’ll probably take a few days to a week before he regains all of his memories, but he won’t suffer any brain damage.”

Peter stares at him incredulously. “There was a chance I could have brain damage and you didn’t tell me? I’ll kick your ass the second I remember how.”

Y/N presses a hand to her lips to hide a smile. “That’s enough of that. Tris, Christina, Four, I’ll figure out what to do. You guys can go back to whatever breaking and entering you were doing before this.”

Short Girl, who must be Christina, places a grateful hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, honestly. We owe you for this.”

“You really do,” Y/N reminds her, and escorts the three of them to the door. 

Once it’s just Peter and Y/N in the room, silence descends upon them both. Peter isn’t sure if he should be speaking or not; he doesn’t remember enough about himself to know if he’s a talker, so he waits to say anything until Y/N walks back to him. 

She glances over him for a second, then sighs. “I’m going to do a medical check. I can’t believe none of them bothered to do one. I think Four was right, you’re not injured, but it can’t hurt. Do you remember how you were exposed to the memory gas?”

“No idea,” Peter says truthfully. “All I know is that I woke up on the ground with no idea who I was.”

She stares at him for a moment, then nods slowly. “You really are different, aren’t you?”

Peter cocks his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean?”

She laughs, although it’s not a happy sound. “The Peter I know would never admit a weakness so freely. You’d answer that question by threatening to stab me. Certainly not with the truth.”

Peter wrinkles his brow. “I sound like an asshole.”

This time, Y/N’s laugh is more genuine. “You kind of are, but we all let it slide. You’re one of the best fighters Dauntless has. If you talked as much as you do without any skill, we’d beat you up for it, but you can back up your sarcasm. Doesn’t mean we don’t try to fight you anyway.”

Peter watches as she retrieves a medical kit from a cabinet, then has them both sit down opposite each other so she can shine a light near his eyes and see how his pupils respond. “What kind of place do we live in if we fight each other all the time? Is this a military base or something?” Peter asks. 

They’re close enough that their knees are touching, which is a strange thing for him to notice, but he gets the feeling that his brain is used to looking for small things like this when it comes to her. His mind automatically focuses on the soft pressure of her hand against his temple like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.

“Something like that,” Y/N answers. “Our city is divided into factions. You’re in Dauntless. We’re the brave ones, the fighters. We keep everyone else safe, but mainly we just try to prove ourselves to each other over and over again.”

There’s a bit of resentment in her tone, which Peter latches on to immediately. “Do we prove ourselves to each other?”

She huffs out a quiet laugh. “Constantly. In order to make it into the faction, you have to go through initiation, which is intense. We were always the top two, always switching off for the top slot. Four led our initiation, he said he’d never seen two people so close. We graduated last year, but you’ve never let go of our rivalry.”

“But you have?” Peter asks.

She shrugs, clicking off the flashlight and returning it to the med kit. “I don’t really care. I’ll fight you when you challenge me, but it doesn’t matter like it did in initiation anymore. You’re no longer an enemy. You seem to think differently, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Do we not see each other anymore? I thought we would have been friends. Isn’t that why the Stiff brought me here?”

Y/N arches a brow. “Interesting nickname to use. I thought you didn’t remember who they were?”

Peter pauses, frowning. “I don’t. It just came out, I guess. What does it mean?”

“It refers to Tris’ home faction, Abnegation,” Y/N responds at last. “You often tease her about it.”

Judging by the sour note in her voice, Y/N isn’t a fan of that. Peter makes a mental note to not do that again. He hadn’t meant to, really, it had just slipped out. Probably like muscle memory or something. What Y/N had said about their rivalry sounds familiar, just like the stuff about Dauntless. It’s like everything he knows is being held behind a massive wall. Peter can catch glimpses of it through chinks in the foundation, but he cannot see it all. Not yet.

Y/N stands up, looking away from him. “You should get some rest. I don’t know if you know the way back to your quarters or where you put your key, so you can crash on my couch if you want.”

Peter frowns. “Is sleep recommended after being subjected to memory gas?”

“Yeah,” Y/N comments wryly, “but mainly, it’s the middle of the night.”

She pulls the shades away from her window to prove her point. Peter glimpses a dark midnight sky outside before the blinds fall against the glass again. Strange, he’d had no idea it was nighttime. The dark halls of Dauntless made it impossible to judge the time of day.

“Sorry for keeping you up,” he says.

Y/N’s expression softens when he apologizes. Again, he gets the feeling it’s not something the other him did all that often. “You didn’t know,” she says at last, and disappears into a room that must be her bedroom. As the door shuts behind her, it occurs to Peter that she never answered his question, the one about if they were friends or not. He doesn’t think so, not based on her description of their rivalry, but wouldn’t she have just said that they didn’t hang out, then?

Peter feels so keyed up after the memory incident that he’s certain he won’t be able to sleep, but he’s hardly closed his eyes before unconsciousness pulls him under. He dreams of dimly lit hallways and large rooms with high ceilings. There’s a girl there too, she’s laughing with friends. Peter wants to be in that circle, making her smile like she is right now, but he somehow knows deep in his gut that she won’t want him there, so instead he asks her to fight, or he says something cruel as he passes. It isn’t right, but it keeps her looking at him, and a curl of something hot up his spine tells him that’s worth it anyway.

The wrongness of it torments him all night. When he wakes up, the brief ghost of her hands floats before his eyes, but it vanishes in moments, and a matter of minutes later Peter finds that he cannot remember a single thing he dreamt of all night. For some reason, this absence hurts him more even than the greater loss of everything else he knew.

Peter had hoped that his memories would return when he woke up, but this is not the case. He tells Y/N as much when she appears out of her bedroom, but she just shrugs and tells him that memory loss patients usually take longer to remember everything. He’ll probably start recalling bits and pieces, but nothing major, not yet.

They decide to leave the room and go to Peter’s place so he can grab some clean clothes. Hopefully, the familiar place will jog his memory, but seeing as it took like an hour for Peter to remember that he put his door key in his back pocket, the odds are slim.

They walk together down the halls, Y/N murmuring the names of people they pass under her breath if he’s supposed to know them. It’s going great until they round a corner and find themselves face to face with a tall, imposing man who makes Y/N’s face slacken with panic immediately.

The man stops when he sees the two of them. “Peter, Y/N. Good to see you two up so early this morning, there’s lots to be done. Peter, were you going to check out the security division today? They say they’ve fixed their camera issue, but I’m not too sure I trust them to do it properly.”

Y/N’s back is perfectly straight, and the only sign that she’s uneasy is the slight widening of her eyes when the man asks them a question. Peter keeps his expression neutral, and an answer appears on his tongue before he even thinks about it. “Not today. I think I’m actually going to shadow Y/N, I want to see the new trainees for myself. The cameras should be fine to delay a little, Max, I supervised their installation just a few weeks ago.”

Y/N blinks in surprise. She’s not the only one confused by Peter’s quick response, he has no idea where that came from, but the man– Max– seems to accept it, so that’s all he can ask for. They part ways soon enough, and once Max is out of earshot, Y/N turns to Peter.

“What was that about? Since when do you remember his name? Or my job?”

“I don’t,” he argues, “It just came out, I don’t know. What do you do with the trainees?”

“I lead initiation. Took over after Eric Coulter decided to switch careers to pursue faction leadership in earnest. I met Tris and Christina because they’re our year, but Four and I teach the trainees together, which is probably why he suggested coming to me instead of anyone else.”

For some reason, hearing this sends a sour spike of resentment through Peter’s gut. “So Four is the reason he sent me to you? Not the two of us?”

“Who knows why Four does anything?” Y/N grumbles. “Could have been anything.”

It’s not really the answer he wants, but he’ll let it go for the time being. “Wait, when do you have to lead the trainees? Are you late?”

She shakes her head as they continue walking. “Four takes them in the early morning, I join them later in the day. I’ll probably head over in an hour or so, but I want to get your quarters sorted out first.”

They reach Peter’s apartment soon enough, but it doesn’t trigger any cascade of memories. He just stands there in the central room and the first thought that comes to his head is, it feels empty. Y/N’s place had seemed more alive, but maybe that’s because she was there. 

“Can I stay at your place?” Peter asks suddenly, “I don’t know if something will happen and I don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

Y/N’s brow furrows, but she nods. “Sure, no problem. Just until you get your memories back.”

“Of course,” Peter agrees, but he swears that it feels like a lie as he says it.

After changing clothes and grabbing some stuff to take back to Y/N’s, they head back again. The journey is easier this time, Peter feels less lost. He remembers the turns and doors of the Dauntless complex faster than he had before. Maybe Four is right and everything will come back over time, but progress is slow going at the moment, and he can’t help but wish it would be faster.

Soon enough, Y/N’s leading him out again, this time to head to initiation. Peter mainly just lurks in the back of the room, pretending to be observing the students as Y/N leads them through some sparring drills. Four is there too, and they exchange some silent glares before Y/N comes back to Peter and he pretends like nothing had been the matter at all.

They walk together, taking a slow lap around the training room. Every now and then, Y/N will call out advice to a pair or shout at someone to stop messing around. Once they complete a circuit, she pauses for a moment, watching the two initiates who were scheduled to fight first in the ring. They both seem evenly matched, and if Peter were to wager a guess he’d say that they’re probably among the top few trainees in the rankings.

Glancing back at Y/N, he notices that her eyes have gained a far-away look. “What’s on your mind?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head slowly, a half-smile rising to her lips. “Nothing. They just remind me of us.”

As Peter watches, one of the initiates manages to throw the other to the ground and pin them there. They count to five, and then the other initiate taps the mat to yield. The winning trainee releases their opponent, and they both crawl off to their respective groups.

Peter cocks his head to the side. “Did we ever let each other go so easily after a fight?” He has faint memories of punching someone until they stopped moving, of pleas for surrender being ignored. Peter has the faint and nauseating idea that he might be a terrible person. No wonder Y/N had looked upon watching over him as a burden. No wonder they all did.

“Never,” she whispers back. “Neither of us walked away unless we were both bloody.”

“That’s because you were the only one who was willing to go all the way,” Peter argues, although strangely enough he doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. Instead, past him is reaching through his mouth to speak it, totally ignoring whatever Peter’s plan is now.

Y/N looks at him, startled, but whatever memory Peter had briefly encountered is gone, and he stays silent. She does too, and when they leave training that day, Peter cannot be sure if the outing was good for either of them.

Peter crashes on her sofa again that night. He’s not entirely sure that he really needs to stay there, but the thought of leaving her to go back to his empty apartment is immediately shut down by his brain, so he decides against it. He has another dream of something, something important, but again, he does not recall it when he wakes. His cheeks are wet when he opens his eyes, but he doesn’t remember crying. There is a lot that he does not remember.

It’s still early when Peter wakes, so he has time to pull himself together and get changed before Y/N comes out of her room. Once she’s up, she makes breakfast for them both, and they stay out on her pathetic excuse for a balcony while they eat. It’s really no more than a glorified fire escape, but there’s enough room for them both, so it’s good enough for now. They’re leaning against the wall of the building. Their shoulders touch listlessly. It nearly destroys him.

The days repeat like skipped tracks on a broken record. They wake, they stay together, they sleep. Y/N relaxes around him more and more; it kills him that he is someone she would have to fear, but he’s getting the feeling that there is no one to blame for that but himself. Peter remembers a little more every day, but not enough.

And then one morning they’re both up at the same time, and the windows have been flung into let in the warm, rosy light of dawn. Y/N is laughing at something he said, and it occurs to Peter that this is perfect. That she is perfect. That maybe he doesn’t ever want his memories to return, because when that happens he’ll have to go away, and Peter doesn’t want this to end, not ever.

Perhaps his mind has a sick sense of humor, because it’s only when Peter discovers that he doesn’t want his memories that they finally break down the wall and surge back into his mind. He almost doubles over from the force of them, a million words and pictures swarming his head. His name is Peter Hayes. He was born in Candor but chose Dauntless in his Ceremony. He’s one of the best they have, on a fast track to being a faction leader. Everyone here is terrified of him, and those that aren’t afraid hate him more than they hate the devil or death itself.

There is only one person who does not check those boxes, and that is Y/N. Peter knew it from the very first day, and when he couldn’t make her fear him, he started up the rivalry, but even that wouldn’t make her hate him. He could never make her break, but he tried. It twists his stomach to think of how he tried. At the end, she was the one who won, and he left initiation realizing that he would never be able to let her go until the day he died. 

He attempted to forget her, but nothing worked. He even got a job far away from initiation when he heard she would be a training leader because he had to cut her out of his head in every way that he could. The scalpel is bloody, but the obsession is rooted deep, it keeps growing back. One night he realized that he loved her, and that was the point of no return.

Peter Hayes does not fall in love. He is cruel and calculating. That’s why Dauntless needs him like a shattered bone needs to destroy every bit of muscle and sinew around it. Peter knew that he had to fix his heart before it fell even further, so he slipped out to the sectors of Dauntless where no one was supposed to go except the faction leaders. He knew how to cover his tracks, he’d tampered with the cameras ages ago when they were set up and he could freeze the live footage whenever he wanted. No one would have been there. No one would have known.

No one would have seen him when he slipped inside. Peter knows Dauntless got a shipment of memory gas a couple of days ago. He knew where to find it, and he knew that only a little bit would be enough to make him forget that his feelings for Y/N had ever existed. All it would take was one breath of the stuff, and then it would be over.

It hadn’t been that easy, though. The canisters were unwieldy and difficult to operate. There had been a problem with opening them; Peter had unscrewed the valve more than he’d thought and it had all come out at once. He remembers barely being able to close it in time, and then the effects of the gas had pulled him over and he’d crumpled to the ground, knocking over a few boxes while he was at it. The sound had alerted the other intruders in the area, namely Tris, Christina, and Four, and then he had lost the last of his memories and woke up with no idea who he was.

The reality of it all makes his mind reel. Peter had known it all this time, but it had been kept secret from him by his own mind. He has always loved her, and the truth of it was more than he could handle. He’d tried to separate himself from Y/N by using the memory gas, but that had just flung him more decisively in her path.

He straightens up slowly. Peter isn’t sure how long it had taken for his memories to return, but it must have shown in his appearance, because Y/N is starting to look at him strangely. “Everything alright, Peter?”

She’s asking about him. She genuinely cares about how he’s doing. This never would have happened before. It won’t happen again if she thinks that he’s back to whoever he was before the memory loss. Peter has to cover his tracks perfectly, then, and what that requires is a perfect lie. Fortunately for him, he’s got more than enough experience in that field.

“Yeah,” he says smoothly, “Just swallowed water the wrong way. I love nearly suffocating to start off my mornings.”

He expects her to laugh as he says it, like she usually would, but instead her eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”

Peter stares at her. “No, I’m not. In what world was that a lie?”

“In your world,” she argues. “It was too easy. You never admit things about yourself that freely. You can lie perfectly, but you don’t know how to be honest. It unsettles you. Now, tell me. What happened?”

Peter stares at her, and she meets his gaze steadily. This is it, then. This is the end. She won’t want to be around him anymore, not once she knows that the burden of watching over him is no longer her responsibility. “I remembered,” he whispers at last, “I remembered everything.”

Her eyes widen. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Peter confirms. “Every time I hurt you. Every time you tried to be kind to me and I shut it down.” His voice cracks on the last syllable. “Why’d you let them stick me with you if I was this terrible to you all this time? I have been awful to everyone around me.”

“But you weren’t,” Y/N says quietly. “Not to me. Not now. You’ve been nice this whole time. I thought that would stop when you got your memories back, but it didn’t.”

A brief pain flashes across her eyes, and then she clears her throat, studiously looking away. “I suppose you’ll want to leave now. Do you know why you lost your memories, or was that just an accident?”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Peter tells her on impulse. “I wanted to forget that– That I loved you, Y/N. I knew it and it nearly killed me, knowing you’d never feel the same way. I tried to make myself forget it so I wouldn’t have to hurt like that anymore.”

Y/N’s gaze snaps back to him. Her eyes are wide, and when Peter slowly walks closer to her, he thinks they’re both waiting for something, some great sign that what they’re doing is right. When he kisses her, he knows it’s right. He knows that it’s all he’s ever wanted. As it was at the start, so it will be at the end:  the two of them until forever.

requested by @tianna8320, i hope you enjoy!

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[lilacgaby]

operation: start!

~1k

chapter select

"hey? flower freak. you okay?"

"no." damn this stupid quirk. [name] thought.

she was currently sprawled out on the floor, laid right in front of the dorms. in hindsight, yes it was stupid to lay right there. she should've just walked in, but she wasn't thinking straight.

"oh. sucks to be you."

"yes it does." she was currently face to face with one of her closest friends, and crush, katsuki. for some reason she was adopted by mina at the start of the year, who for some other odd reason, loved to hang with katsuki and his friends.

this led to katsuki and her hanging out one on one occasionally because of their shared affection for romance manga. and because quote on quote, "she's cool for an extra." whatever that meant. it still, embarrassingly, made her heart flutter though.

"are you gonna get up or sit outside like a dumbass?" katsuki quipped, eyeing her off attitude.

"i'm gonna get up, uh-- just don't wait on me!"

"...okay."

with that, bakugo turned and walked back inside. he noted her odd behavior, but shrugged it off. he knew she had just finished a mission.

"oh by the way, i took another volume of maid-sama from your room."

"don't break it!"

he closed the door behind him, leaving her there on the floor.

after an awkward encounter with aizawa, who looked at her as if she grew another head for breaking curfew just to lay on the floor, she got up and walked inside.

mina immediately ran over to her.

"hey girl! how was your patrol?"

"bad." [name] was becoming unsurprised at the way her mouth answered for her.

"what? really what happened?"

don't say it. "i got hit by a truth quirk, i told mirko about my crush on bakugo, and im scared im going to accidentally confess." damn it.

mina's eyes widened at her sudden confession.

"i knew it! sero and denki owe me a thousand yen!"

"wait, you knew?" [name] asked, shocked at the revelation.

"yes girl, duh! your eyes literally sparkle when you see him! and don't think that i missed that flowers start blooming whenever you and him are together! i thought you were dating for a while." mina confessed.

[name] felt her face get hot.

"it's really that obvious?"

"yes."

"aw man. well.. then you have to help me!"

mina tilted her head in confusion. "with what?"

"i-- okay just... let me go shower and meet me in my room."

"ooh! is this gonna be a mission? should i call the girls or the squad?" mina looked a little too enthusiastic for [name]'s taste.

but she trusted mina. she was basically her best friend. so, she relented.

"whoever you think'd be better for this."

mina looked thoughtful. "okay, got it! i'll be in your room in an hour!"

[name] sighed and walked up to the showers.

please mina.. pull through for me.

ʚ ✩ ɞ.

[name] hoped the shower would wash away her anxiety, and it did for a short time. but she was reminded of her impending doom when she saw her entire friend group on her bed.

denki, kirishima, sero, and mina all eyed her as she entered her room. odd how she felt like she wasn't supposed to be in her own room.

"uh.. hey guys."

"hey, heard about the quirk you got hit with." denki commented.

"and about your crush. thanks [name] i won three-thousand yen!" kirishima remarked.

[name] deadpanned.

"anyways, we're all here for operation: save [name] from being embarrassed by her feelings of true love!" mina exclaimed, pulling a chalkboard out of no where.

"we couldn't have come up with a shorter name? how about.. operation: save [name]." sero added.

"yeah but that's too.. ambiguous. we need to know what we're saving her from." kirishima said.

"huh.. how about.. save [name] from bakugo. o:s_fb for short." sero said.

"ooh cool name! makes it feel all professional and stuff!" mina said excitedly as she added it to the board.

meanwhile, [name] just stood there, wishing to be anywhere else. she had so many questions in her mind, but she was broken out of her thoughts as mina wrote:

'keep [name] away from katsuki alone: aka third wheel strategy.'

"huh?" [name] muttered.

"okay guys, we have to third wheel them!

in order to keep our darling [n/name] safe,

we have to make sure he never makes a joke that could make her accidentally confess." mina proposed.

"we will come back here everyday after bakugo goes to sleep at 8, and talk about any changes we have to make to our strategy. got it?"

"got it!" they, minus [name], said in unison.

"oh by the way [name], for how long does the quirk last?"

"a week." she sighed.

the group seemed to fall apart at that.

"third wheeling for an entire week?! that's insane!" denki exclaimed.

"yeah, i don't know about this [name], maybe you should give it up and confess willingly."

"yeah let's start a new operation! operation: perfect confes--"

"no way." [name]'s voice cut through. "i-i can't guys. and i really need your help so.. please? it's just til next sunday. i'll take you guys out to eat as soon as the quirk goes off."

the group all collectively looked over eachother, while mina stood strong. "i was always going to help you with your plan, dumb or not."

"yeah, it wouldn't be manly to force a confession."

they all agreed, and set off to their rooms for the night. they would've broke curfew again, but denki and sero were one strike away from house arrest.

"operation starts tomorrow [name]! don't forget it!" mina said, before leaving with the big ass chalkboard left behind in her room.

[name] sighed and huffed into her pillow.

seven days to go.

i got this.

o:s_fb start!

prev | next!

[215-luv]

OPENING YOUR MOUTH INFRONT OF THEM (Tiktok Trend) // tw: slightly suggestive

SUNA: holds your jaw and stuffs his tongue in your mouth, full on make out session with you before pulling away with a smirk. “is that what you wanted?”

SAKUSA: stares at you in confusion and disinterest, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you like what’s he supposed to do?

KAGEYAMA: blinks in thought before gently moving the tip of the straw of his milk carton on your bottom lip. “do you want some?”

KUROO: looks at you in curiosity, leaving you open-mouthed before he caught you off guard as he shoves a ballpen on top of your tongue. the action immediately making you jump away as your boyfriend cackles out loud. “do you need attention? is that what you want, kitten? hm?”

KONOHA: dips two of his fingers into your mouth, lips turning into a smirk as his facial expression screams ‘suck my fingers.’

TSUKISHIMA: looks at you in question before turning away to ignore you, eyes focused on the manga he was reading as his hand reaches to your chin to close your mouth at the same time. “just what the hell are you doing? a fly could go in your mouth, dumbass.”

BOKUTO: tilts his head in confusion. “are you hungry?” he asks, earning no answer from you as you look at him as if to usher to do something with your mouth open. though, the only thing he did was slowly tap your tongue with his pointing finger in confusion. “kotaro!” “what?! baby, i didn’t know what to do!”

AKAASHI: was eating a piece of candy when you opened your mouth out of nowhere infront of him. he looks at you curiously before holding onto your neck gently, leaning down to connect his lips with yours, shocking you when he used his tongue to push the mint flavored candy into your mouth with force. he smiles as he pulls away. “how does it taste, love?”

IWAIZUMI: is half confused as he raises an eyebrow at you. “what are you doing?” and a few seconds passes by before he decides to raise his hand to close your mouth gently, peering at you suspiciously as you go on your day as if nothing had happened.

OIKAWA: “what?” your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at the sight of your open mouth, before morphing his lips into a smirk. “ooh, is that it? do you want me to put something in there?” he coos, “tell me, darling. what do you exactly need?”

USHIJIMA: “y/n..??” he stares at you stoic. kinda just stares at you waiting patiently if you wanted him to do something cause; following his motto in life - whatever y/n wants, y/n gets.

KENMA: quickly shoves a piece of chip on your mouth, assuming you were hungry cause his eyes were pierced through the screen, continuing his game as if you aren’t next to him shooting daggers at his side profile.

KITA: he’s.. i don’t know.. his nonchalant expression takes in sight of your open mouth, eyes raking over your figure as if he’s telepathically asking what’s up. he just stays like that the whole time to wait for you, no questions asked. your boyfriend is a patient man.

SUGAWARA: you open your mouth, and he gets the tingling signal that you’re hungry. and so there he goes, opening a bag of your favorite snack and feeding you just the way you like it. <3

TENDOU: goes all giggly like, “what are you doinggg??~~” before slightly lifting your chin to close your mouth a bit, giving him a much comfortable position to kiss you tenderly.

TANAKA: blinks at you, confused as hell though a million thoughts were running to his mind. unfortunately, some of those thoughts weren’t so innocent. he instead closes your mouth in an immediate. looking away from you as he scratches the back of his head. “w-would you look at that babe! i gotta finish my homework now before it gets late- haha…”

YAMAGUCHI: “why? what are you doing? are you hungry?” he inquired genuinely, eyeing your expression as if he’s looking for any sign of hunger from you. he pats your head with a look of sadness on his face. “i don’t really have any food with me right now.. would you mind if i leave you for a while to go buy your favourites?”

ATSUMU: “huh? what’s this?” he raised an eyebrow in curiosity, looking at you suspiciously before he’s finally got an idea. lips turning into a smirk, he leans down to your level, nose in touch with yours as he lowly mutters. “now, what’s this all about babe?”

OSAMU: also one to raise an eyebrow at you. “are ya hungry?” he tilts his head in confusion. letting out a sigh when you don’t reply, he gently shuts your mouth with a hand under your chin. he kisses your forehead as he says. “fine, i’ll cook ya up somethin’ okay? just wait here and lay pretty.”

[fandom-smut-shots]

Keith Kogane - I’m Not Going Anywhere

Not Going Anywhere

A/N: Modern life AU.

Also, any genders and pronouns are acceptable to request. If not specified, I default to female, because that’s the majority of reader inserts in my experience.

Summary: You’ve been dating Keith for about six months, but you’ve only recently met his group of friends. He’s worried that they each have more to offer you than he does, and his insecurities eat away at him until you calm him down.

Words: 2,063

           “Your girlfriend is coming to the party, right?”

         Keith froze, glancing up at Shiro where the older man stood beside the stove, preparing a pot of spinach artichoke dip. He was a disaster at cooking actual food, but he’d managed to learn to prepare dips like a boss.

         “Uh…” was all the black-haired boy managed in response, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

         “Come on, Keith,” Shiro chided gently, employing his best Older Brother voice. “You’ve been seeing this girl for, what, six months now? I think it’s time I met her. And what better time to introduce her to the gang than at your birthday party?”

         “Do I have to introduce her to everyone?” Keith whined, glaring down at his breakfast. “Can’t she just meet you and be done with it?”

         Shiro sighed, turning to argue when he caught sight of his brother’s expression. Keith wasn’t one for expressing his emotions, so Shiro had learned early on how to read the arch of his brow and the shine of his eyes. Keith currently looked crestfallen, which given the circumstances meant that insecurities were buzzing around inside his head.

         “It’s going to be fine, Keith,” the older boy commented, taking a seat across from Keith at the table. “Everyone is going to love her, and she’s going to love your friends.”

         “That’s what I’m worried about,” was all Keith murmured before he stood, setting his cereal bowl in the sink before turning to skulk down the hallway towards his room.

           “I’d love to go to his birthday party!” you squealed into the phone, balancing it between your ear and your shoulder so you had free use of your hands. “I’m almost done decorating his cake. I could bring it with me!”

         “He’d love that,” Shiro chuckled on the other end. “We’re not a baking-inclined family, so it’s always store-bought cakes for us.”

         “He told me he just wanted to do something simple to celebrate with me,” you returned, swirling icing atop the cake to add calligraphic decoration to Keith’s name. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me you were throwing him a party.”

         “He doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Shiro reasoned.

         You hummed in agreement. “That’s true.” Setting the piping bag on the counter, you paused, a frown forming on your lips. “It’s not… He wants me to come, right? He won’t be mad that you invited me?”

         Shiro sighed into the receiver, and you bit your lip nervously. “He’ll be upset that I went behind his back, but I know him very well, and I think he’d enjoy the party a lot more if you were there. He’s just nervous about you meeting his friends. They can be a handful.”

         “If you’re sure,” you replied. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your boyfriend while trying to celebrate his birthday. “I’ll be there. With a cake.”

         “Perfect,” the man on the phone replied. “I’ll see you tonight. It’ll be great, I promise.”

         You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, admiring your handiwork on your boyfriend’s cake. Exhaling softly, you tried to believe Shiro’s words. Everything would be fine.

           Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the front door of Shiro and Keith’s shared house. Carefully balancing the cake with one hand, you raised the other to knock on the door, waiting patiently but anxiously for someone to answer. The door opened to reveal Shiro, smiling widely upon seeing you on the other side.

         “(y/n)! It’s so great to meet you!” he greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Shiro, Keith’s older brother. I apologize if I startled you with that phone call earlier – I wasn’t sure Keith would actually follow through and invite you.”

         “He didn’t,” you giggled. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you for months.”

         “Let me take that for you,” he offered, easing the cake out of your hold. He headed inside, nodding for you to follow him. You closed the door behind you, following the tall man- like seriously, how was he that tall?-  into the kitchen. There stood a thicker boy, nearly as tall as Shiro, stirring and chopping like a professional chef.

         “That cheese sauce smells amazing, Hunk,” Shiro complimented the cook, placing the cake on the counter.

         “It’s almost done- ooh, where’d the cake come from?” the cook inquired.

         “Keith’s girlfriend.”

         The spoon being used to stir the cheese sauce fell to the floor with a clink, gooey cheese splashing all over the tile.

         “Keith’s what?!”

         The tall, tanned cook spun on his heel, a grin splitting his lips as he caught sight of you. “She’s real!”

         Shiro laughed softly, stepping closer to you. “Hunk, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is Hunk, our resident chef. He shares a few classes with Keith.”

         “I’m an engineering major,” Hunk explained, offering his hand. You placed your comparably tiny hand in his, giggling softly.

         “It’s nice to meet you. Keith has mentioned your cooking.”

         Hunk’s eyes sparkled at the confirmation that the emotionally constipated raven appreciated his food before he turned back to the stove.

         “Hey, Shiro, what-“ Keith stopped in his tracks as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widening as he stared at you. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

         “I invited her because I knew you wouldn’t,” Shiro explained.

         “It’s okay that I’m here, right, babe?” you questioned, brows furrowing with worry as you took Keith’s hands in yours.

         “Babe?” teased an unfamiliar voice. “Keith lets someone call him babe?” A tall, thin brunet sauntered into view, resting his elbow on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey, who’s the hottie? She’s- ow!”

         Keith’s elbow collided with the brunet’s rib, and he stepped away.

         “Yeah, it’s okay,” Keith murmured, lacing his fingers with yours, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. You stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to his, and he melted into the gesture despite having an audience. The brunet from before whistled at the sight, and Keith pulled back with a glare in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks.

         “I’m (y/n,” you introduced, offering your hand.

         “The name’s Lance,” the tan brunet grinned, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your knuckles. You simply raised a brow in response, unsurprised when Keith ripped Lance’s hand away from yours.

         “She’s taken,” he growled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You giggled softly, resting your head on Keith’s shoulder.

         “Is that everyone?” you inquired, looking towards Shiro.

         “Hunk!” another voice called from the hallway. “Are the nachos done? I’m starving- oh, hey.”

         Finally, someone not insanely tall.

         “I’m Pidge,” they offered, lifting their hand to their head in a salute. “You must be Keith’s girlfriend.”

         “(y/n),” you countered. “Are you another friend of his?”

         Pidge stole a chip from the bowl on the table, popping it into their mouth. “If that’s what we’re calling it. I’m friends with Lance and Hunk, and they kinda forced Keith to join the group.”

         “I encouraged it,” Shiro replied. “My brother needs social skills.”

         “I have plenty of social skills,” Keith grumbled in response.

         Lance snickered loudly, Pidge choked on a ship, and Hunk chuckled from his place at the stove.

         “I got myself a girlfriend without your interference, didn’t I?” your boyfriend defended, his grip around your wait tightening.

         “How did you two meet, anyway?” Pidge questioned.

         “I’m an art major,” you replied. “We met in Interpretive Painting.”

         “Keith takes art classes?” Lance gasped, his voice raising several octaves.

         “Makes sense,” Pidge shrugged.

         “Interpretive Painting?” Hunk repeated. “That sounds like fun.”

         “Ah, someone who will encourage my brother to keep working on his art,” Shiro smiled. “I already love her.”

         Keith used his hand on your waist to guide you away from the others, leading you to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, securing his arms around you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers toying with his thick raven hair. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of your body wash.

         “Why didn’t you want me to meet them?” you inquired softly. “They seem nice.”

         “Too nice,” he murmured against your skin. “They’ll take you away from me.”

         You pulled away from Keith just enough to lift his head, caressing his jaw with your hand, gazing softly into his violet eyes. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

         His gaze dropped somewhere behind you – a tell that the current situation made him vulnerable and insecure.

         “You heard them in there. I’m not social. How many times have you told me I suck at texting back? If you hadn’t been so friendly, I wouldn’t have even been able to ask you out.”

         “So?” you questioned, brushing your thumb across is cheekbone. “I’m dating you, aren’t I? If you being anti-social was an issue, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

         He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Lance is better at romance and dating. Pidge is smart, and you like a lot of the same games. Hunk can cook actual meals. They have more to offer you.”

         Your heart broke at his honesty. You knew how hard it was for Keith to be so open, even with you. He must have been dreading the day you met his friends if he was this concerned about it.

         Taking his face in your hands, you lifted his head until you can access his mouth. You gently pressed your lips to his, pouring your emotions into the kiss. He sighed softly against your lips, his arms tightening around your waist. You let one hand slide back to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised between kisses. “I love you, Keith. Befriending your friends means I get to spend more time with you and learn more about you. They’re not going to take me from you, I promise.”

         “Dinner is done!” Hunk’s voice called from the kitchen.

         You slid off of Keith’s lap, much to his dismay, and offered him a hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go eat.”

         He took your hand, lacing your fingers and squeezing softly as he followed you into the kitchen. Chips, cheese, meat, and vegetables decorated the table as a homemade nacho bar for everyone to dig into. Keith’s amethyst eyes danced around the kitchen, landing on an unfamiliar container on the counter.

         “What’s that?” he inquired, turning his gaze to Hunk.

         Hunk grinned. “(y/n) brought it.”

         “It’s your cake,” you replied, shoving a fully-coated nacho into your mouth.

         “You made me a cake?” Keith questioned, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

         “The plan was for us to have a private party after you were done here,” you shrugged. “When Shiro invited me, I figured I might as well bring the cake.”

         Keith dipped his head, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Lance and Pidge cat-called from somewhere behind you, but Keith didn’t seem to mind. Shiro smiled from behind Keith, shaking his head softly.

           After dinner and cake were thoroughly enjoyed, you followed Keith and his friends to the living room to watch movies. He sat on the couch and you reclaimed your place on his lap, snuggling into his chest. His hands intertwined with yours, his fingertips brushing your knuckles, and you peppered soft kisses to his jaw, reminding him that you were his.

         While everyone was enthralled in the movie, you turned to face your boyfriend. You untangled a hand from his in order to lift it to his face, cupping his cheek. He turned his gaze from the movie to look at you, a soft expression in his eyes that only you were allowed to see. You shifted in his lap, pulling his lips down to yours. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, gently nipping at your lower lip with his teeth. You were tempted to give in until you recalled your company, reluctantly breaking the kiss and settling back against his chest.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand as you watched the movie. The kiss he pressed to the side of your head told you that he understood, and while you knew his insecurities wouldn’t be magically washed away, you also knew that he was trying and that was more than enough for you.

[p33paw]

broken contract

zhongli x f!reader

summary | breaking a promise to zhongli, and paying the price with spread legs (pwp, thigh riding, cockwarming, overstimulation, praise kink, sir kink, degrading kink)

warnings | nsfw

word count | ~10k

links | ao3

I would never get drunk in the middle of the day.

But— Beidou is only in town for the day, a short stop sandwiched between two several month long expeditions spent sailing the sea, too far away for contact. We settled to meet at the Third-Round Knockout. Her, me, a table of food, and all morning to talk before she visits the other people she cares about. We each got a single drink to toast with, then one became two, two became three, and... well...

I might be drunk in the middle of the day.

"Zhongli is going to kill me—" I groan, planting my head into my arms, leaning into the table.

I was supposed to meet with him today as well, as soon as Beidou's left. I can feel the heat on my flushed face where it connects with my skin. I'm drunk. He hates when I drink, enough that he told me to never drink before I see him.

Beidou grunts, and I hear the creak of her chair as she leans back in it.

"What's with you and that old man?" She asks, followed by the thud of her empty glass hitting the table. She calls for another round, and I groan again, tilting my head up to look at her.

"Wha'd'you mean?" I ask, pouting my lower lip out.

Beidou squints at me, then lifts her hands to gesture.

"Are you—" She holds her tongue with her teeth, a look of concentration knitting her brow. She forms her index finger and thumb on one hand into a circle, then pushes her other pointer finger out, jamming it into the circle she created. "—y'know."

As she continues to thrust her finger into the space created by her hand, the waiter approaches, dropping two new drinks in front of us. Beidou doesn't notice, but she's shot a dirty look.

I squint at her, knowing exactly what she's asking, but refusing to answer truthfully.

"No?" I sit all the way up, batting my eyelashes to antagonize her. "What are you talking about?" As I finish speaking, I lift my new drink, sipping it to keep my buzz if this is the conversation we're having.

Beidou blinks back, a delirious and gullible look in her eyes.

"Are you gonna go have sex with him?" She asks, point blank.

I choke on my drink, not expecting to hear the question. I have to take a moment to steady myself, eyes flicking up to Beidou as she crosses her arms and stares me down.

"I— I—" I blink, stumbling over my words, trying to collect my thoughts. I settle for a jab back, looking at Beidou with as much courage as I can muster. "Are you gonna go have sex with Ningguang?" I ask.

Beidou's brows tick in, a no less severe expression on her face. "Of course." She says, just as brash. "Now answer my question."

I falter, pursing my lips. Damn, I thought that would buy me more time.

"I'm—" I start, trying to look up and meet her eyes. I end up shying away from her severe stare, hiding in my drink. "Yes." I admit, no way around it. "We are... involved."

"Involved?" Asks Beidou, leaning in, "Like more than just having sex?"

I suck my lower lip in, hesitant to talk about it. This is something that happened recently, more than a month after Beidou last left Liyue Harbor. My hands instinctively come together, my fingers resting on a bracelet that was a gift from Zhongli. He called it the contract of what we have between us, the guarantee of the promises we've made each other, and the reminder than I belong to him. There's no official title, but...

"A lot more than just sex." I say.

Beidou 'oohs', leaning in even closer.

Before she can get another word out, the door to the tavern swings open with a slam. Beidou and I both crane our necks to look. Standing in the entryway, tall, elegant and beautiful, is lady Ningguang. Her eyes are locked to Beidou though, and intimidating enough that I find myself faltering.

She walks in, tailed by two guards.

"You're in trouble now—" I whisper back, trying to make myself look at small as possible.

Beidou shoots me a glare of her own, before pulling her face into a wide smile, staring at Ningguang as she approaches.

"Hey—y my beautiful flower, has anyone told you how lovely and gentle and beautiful and intelligent and—" Beidou starts, interrupted by Ningguang.

"I've been waiting for hours." Ningguang says, voice severe, barely flicking her eyes over to me. She gives me a curt nod of acknowledgment and I blink back in surprise.

Beidou squints at her. "I— told you I'd finish lunch at twelve." She says as looks over to me. "My friends are just as important to me—"

Ningguang immediately reaches to her side, pulling a pocket watch from a chain where it's fastened. She flips it open, pushing it forward, directly toward Beidou. Beidou leans in, lifting her brows as she reads the time, surprise clear in her expression.

"Now what does that say?" Ningguang asks, staring Beidou down.

Beidou swallows, eyes flicking up to stare at the other woman. "Two-oh-six." She says, lifting her drink, finishing it in a single swig, dropping the empty glass to the table, then slowly starting to stand.

Shit. I promised Zhongli I'd be done by noon, myself.

Beidou turns to me once standing, reaching a hand over to clasp my shoulder. "I'm glad to have seen you," She starts, "If my next adventure finds me dead—" She nervously glances toward Ningguang, "Know that you were my greatest friend." At that, she reaches into her pocket, pulling out and slamming down a satchel of mora that is certainly— more than enough to pay our tab. She turns, walking away from the table.

Ningguang smiles, small, watching Beidou approach her, before turning her gaze to me. "I'm sorry for interrupting—" She says, lifting her hands together, looking apologetic. "I'm sure you understand?"

I nod, giving her a reassuring smile of my own. "I had plenty of time with her." I say back, waving her off.

I lift to my feet to stand and leave as well, met with a head rush that makes me waver. I have to shoot my hands out to the table to steady myself, coming into the realization that I drank much more than I should have.

A hand darts forward, landing on my arm, holding me steady.

"Are you alright?" I hear Ningguang ask, much closer than before.

I nod, slowly blinking, trying to focus my eyes, batting her away.

"I'm fine— just a bit—" As I try to step away, I stumble, barely catching myself on another table. "—drunk." I sigh out, then look up to Beidou to glare. "I hate you." I bite out. I always try to drink as much as her, and, inevitably, end up far drunker.

Beidou gives me a toothy grin, shrugging. "Learn to hold your liquor." She says.

Still next to me, Ningguang turns to glare at Beidou, until the smile slips from her face. She looks to the side, sheepish.

"You're in no condition to get home alone." Ningguang says, lifting her hand and snapping her fingers together.

One of the two guards steps forward, at attention, walking up next to us.

"Assure that she arrives home safely." She says, voice stern, before turning back to meet my eyes again. "If you tell him where you live he'll get you home. Let me know if there are any problems." She says, then steps away before I can protest, back to Beidou's side.

Together, the two turn, walking for the exit. Beidou looks back, giving me another wave as she's ushered away, until the door swings shut behind them, and I'm alone with the guard.

"Where do you live, ma'am?" He asks.

I look up at him, feeling sheepish. I'm drunk, that doesn't mean a need a guard to walk me home.

"You can— leave me." I start. "I'm more than capable of getting home, I'm not sure why Lady Ningguang even—" I take the first step forward, lose my footing, and fall over face first, collapsing to the ground.

I groan, collecting myself and sitting up, blowing a stressed breath. Maybe it's good Beidou's only home a few days a year, she'd drink me into an early death otherwise.

The guard's hands land on me this time, helping me to stand. I let him, but once I'm up, the hands don't come off. Instead, I'm lifted up into his arms, until he's carrying me.

"Just tell me where to go." The guard starts, looking embarrassed for me. "Ma'am."

I huff a sigh with half a mind to struggle to get out of his hold— but— realize it isn't worth it. I would probably just fall on my ass if I attempted to walk anywhere, this is likely for the best.

Now, I have to consider my options. Fake sick and abandon my plans with Zhongli because I'm in no state to meet him, or—

Zhongli's address spills from my mouth, something selfish and needy rearing in my chest. I want to see him, I don't care how much trouble I'll be in once he sees my current state.

The guard nods, walking forward with me in his arms. It's foreign to exit a bar belligerently drunk and see it's still the middle of the day. The outside is busy with working people despite the clouds in the sky and the threat of rain looming above them.

I hide my face in my own shoulder, embarrassed as the guard strides forward, down the streets, deeper into the city, carrying me to where Zhongli lives. The closer we approach, the more nervous I get, mind racing at how he might react to the mistake I've made.

I really shouldn't be drunk.

My stomach twists as I spot Zhongli's home, and consider my current position. I'm already going to be in enough trouble as it is— I don't need him to see me in another man's arms. I lift my hand, tapping the shoulder of the guard, signaling to be let down. The guard listens, lowering me to my feet. I have to take a second to balance myself, but finally find my bearings, walking forward to close what feels like an immeasurable distance between me and Zhongli.

I approach his threshold, but before I can knock, the door opens. Zhongli stands in the entryway, his eyes flicking between me and the guard at my back, his expression set.

"Didn't we agree you'd arrive by noon?" He asks, finally staring at just me.

I nod, then stumble toward him. He receives me in his arms, holding me tight as I bury myself in his chest. His arms feel massive as they wrap me, cradling me like I'm something fragile. I drag in an inhale, breathing in the scent of clear spring and mountain air that seems ever present on him.

"Are you alright?" He asks, softer.

I tilt my head back to look at him, and see his face is knit with concern. I nod, staring up at him through my lashes.

"I'm— f-fine." I slur out, then watch as Zhongli's brow ticks in.

There's a drop in my stomach as it happens, knowing he's become aware of what's made me late. He looks away from me, up to the guard.

"Thank you." He says, voice firm, before guiding me into his house.

"I'm sorry—" I try to start, keeping pressed to his side, my fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt.

Zhongli closes the door, soft, careful, before turning to look at me again.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" He asks, disappointment clear in his voice.

I nod, moving my hands against his abdomen. I keep touching, grabbing, pawing at him.

"I'm sorry—" I repeat, lifting my hand to his chest. "Can I make it up to you? I—"

Zhongli catches me at the wrist, holding my hands still. He sighs, then walks away without another word. I stay in place, fidgeting with the bracelet on my wrist, restlessness and guilt twisting my stomach, as I wait, I hear water start to run.

He reappears, walking straight for me. He lands his hands on me in silence, lifting me into his arms. I curl my fingers into his shoulder, holding tight as he carries me to the bathroom. I look around, noting that the bath is running, filling with water.

I'm carefully lowered to my feet, then Zhongli steps back, creating distance, crossing his arms across his chest. He looks right at me.

"Do you need help undressing?" He asks.

I shake my head no, stumbling over my own feet as I grab the hem of my dress, lifting it up and off. It falls to the floor with a thump. Standing in my undergarments, I can feel Zhongli's eyes on me, burning me in the way they flick across my body, studying me. I embarrass, shoving my panties down and off as quickly as I can, shedding my bra even faster, then standing nude with my arms wrapped around my core.

"It's ready for you." Zhongli says next, the sound of water flowing cut short.

I look up to meet his eyes, finding them locked to my body, searching the expanse of it. I carefully step forward, until I'm directly in front of him.

"I'm sorry—" I repeat, feeling small, watching as his steady gaze locks back to my face.

"It's okay." He says. "We can talk about it later."

I nod, tight, still in my own head. I almost want him to be mad, to express the upset I see clear on his face so that the guilt in my stomach settles. Instead, his words and actions are measured with restraint.

I look away from him toward the bath. It's drawn high, shimmering with soap. I lift my leg, stepping in, until I'm standing in the water. Then, I lower myself in, sinking into the warm feeling that envelops my body.

I glance back over to Zhongli, watching as he walks to the door, sheds his jacket, and hangs it. From there, he turns, walking back toward the bath, removing his gloves, unpinning his cufflinks, slipping them both into his pocket. He carefully rolls his sleeves up his forearms, one at a time.

My heart jumps to my throat as he reveals his arms, thick with muscle and defined veins like his hands, a light ghosting of hair that covers the entire limb. He kneels next to the tub, lifting a bottle of soap. He pours the soap into his hands, then pushes those hands forward, landing them on my body.

"I'm sorry." I repeat, voice as small as I can make it, searching the hard line of his unwavering expression.

His eyes flick up to meet mine, piercing in the way they look at me. He slides his soaped hand against my skin, over my chest, up to my neck. He rests there, caressing with his thumb, keeping his eyes on me.

"You reek of alcohol." He says, voice low and gentle. "Didn't you promise to never drink before seeing me?"

I duck my head, heart jumping to my throat. I nod, tight. "Yes." I breathe out, blinking down to watch my hands curl around each other underneath the water. "I'm sorry." I repeat.

Zhongli says no more, but continues to move his hands. He drags them along me with purpose, washing every square inch of my body in silence, before he's up, grabbing a toothbrush from his counter. He kneels back down, holding the brush, staring at me.

"Can you open your mouth for me?" He coaxes.

I swallow around my tongue, but do, just parting my lips.

Zhongli's free hand comes up, cupping my face. His thumb forces between my lips, pressing to my bottom row of teeth. He opens my mouth, pulling his thumb back, only to dig his fingers into my cheeks, holding my face in place. He moves forward with the toothbrush, pushing it into my mouth, watching it go in, all while I search his face.

He starts to move, brushing the caps of my teeth, moving the brush in and out of my mouth, dragging it against my lips. I find my eyes fluttering shut, embarrassment overwhelming me.

All of this is because I couldn't control myself, and now, I have to be cared for. He finishes brushing my teeth, allows me to rinse, then pulls the plug from the bath. He stands up, finds a towel, dries his hands on it, and brings it to me.

"Will you be okay on your own for a moment?" He asks, waiting until I nod in confirmation to stand up and walk away.

Once he's gone, I lift my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I wait in the bath while the water drains, consumed with upset. I just want him to kiss me the way he always does, hold me tight, and make me feel like nothing else in the world matters. Instead, I'm helpless as he picks up the pieces of me.

There's a small tremble in my core as I stand up. It's a sinking feeling that acknowledges my fault, a repeated reminder that I'm the one who fucked up and crossed the boundaries we set.

I reach for the towel that Zhongli used, dry off with it, then walk out of the bathroom. I go straight for his bedroom, finding pajamas already laid out for me on the bed. It's a top and bottom set, silken, too large, I lift the buttoned top, slipping it over my head without unbuttoning anything. The hem falls past the middle of my thigh, wearing more like a dress than anything else. I don't bother with the pants.

I poke my fingers from the oversized sleeves, curling them into the fabric at the collar of the shirt, lifting it to my face. I breathe in, finding it rich with the scent that lingers on Zhongli. I nearly buckle, eyes fluttering shut as I breathe it in, grounding myself in it.

When I open my eyes again, reality comes crashing back.

I walk out of the bedroom, eyes peeled for Zhongli. I find him in his kitchen, dropping a mixture of leaves into a pot of still water that sits on a low flame. His sleeves are still rolled up to his elbow, the muscles of his forearms flexing as he uses them.

I make a noise, watching him, wishing his hands were on me. He glances back.

"You should lay down until the tea is done." He says, quiet.

Though I know it's for the best, I refuse to listen. I shake my head no, walking toward him with uncertainty.

"I don't—" I start, taking a ragged breath. "Are you angry? I don't want you to be upset with me— please, I—" I falter as Zhongli pauses his movement. "Please." I repeat, begging, breathier than last time.

Pin prick tears collect at the corners of my eyes, desperation for reassurance fueling my courage.

Finally, Zhongli turns and approaches me, his expression strained. He lands one hand on my waist, sliding it up my side. His other cups my chin, gentler than I expect, running his thumb along my bottom lip to my cheek.

"Go lay down." He repeats, his face relaxing into something kinder, more familiar. "You'll feel better if you lay down."

I whine, wrapping my arms around him tighter, hesitant to let go now that I've got some of the attention I desperately wanted.

"Do you hate me now?" I ask, voice small.

Zhongli's brows lift, his hand traveling higher to thumb the tear from my eye. He moves in closer, holding eye contact with me.

"Of course not." He says, quiet, holding my face steady to lean in and press a chaste kiss to my lips. "I am upset." He says, his breath warm against my lips, tightening his hand on my waist to pull me closer. "But we can wait to address it when you're sober." He presses another kiss.

Though the words are severe, it's a relief. I press into his lips with all of my might, digging my fingers into his shoulders, steadying myself. He can still love me the same, despite my mistakes.

Zhongli pulls back from the kiss with a soft noise, quickly turning to attend to the pot. I finally relax, moving with him, keeping myself pressed against his broad back, my arms looping his waist.

"You're too kind to me." I mumble, muffled by his shirt.

Maybe it's the drive of the alcohol, or the way his hands felt when he ran them along my body as he washed me, or maybe even just his kindness, but I find myself craving intimacy. I carefully drag my hands down his abdomen, grazing my fingers against the fabric of his shirt, until I reach his belt. There, I move carefully, working my fingers to lift the clasp, my other hand dragging down across his lap as I hold my breath.

Zhongli goes still beneath my palms. I move slower, glacially, pressing against his belt. I don't make it far before his hand covers my own, stilling my movement.

"No." He says, voice low and soft. "Not while you're drunk."

I whine, pressing against his back. "But I want to—" I pout.

Zhongli turns to face me, an unfamiliar stern look on his face. "No." He repeats, just as he lands his hands on me and lifts me into his arms.

I'm helplessly carried to his bedroom, then, unceremoniously dumped onto his bed.

"Rest until the tea is done." Zhongli says, an order, before leaning in and pressing a parting kiss to my forehead. "I'll be back when it's ready." He says, then pulls back.

I puff my cheeks out, pouting, but refrain from protest. Zhongli turns, walking back out of the room, leaving me alone. I decide to settle, admitting that he's right, I should lay down. I wrap myself in a comforter, burying my face in his pillows, and let my eyes shut. I find myself relaxing, mind filled with memories of us in this bed together, and how safe I feel here, until I slip into sleep.

***

I open my eyes, disoriented, watching Zhongli's back retreat from the room. I blink slowly, sitting up, lifting my hands to rub my eyes. I must've fallen asleep, and, I glance out a window, noting the setting sun in the sky, it must've been for hours.

I take in my surroundings, noticing that to my side is a cup of tea on a plate, billowing a soft cloud of steam. I steady myself before reaching for it, then lift it to drink. It tastes floral, minty, bright against my desensitized tongue.

I blink again, trying to focus my eyes as I recollect the events of the day. I notice a slight ache in my head, and remember the fact that I was drunk.

Embarrassment heats my face, the automatic memory of Zhongli's disappointment in me springing to the forefront. I hide in the cup of tea, willing myself to forget.

It's a useless effort.

Though, as memories come back in, I come to a conclusion: I owe Zhongli my thanks, and maybe another apology.

I tilt the cup of tea back, finishing it despite its temperature, then set the empty cup down on it's plate. I lift from bed, stumbling out to the living area, searching for what I want. I find him lounging, a book open in his hands. He hardly glances up at me, brows raised.

"How do you feel?" He asks.

I ignore the question, striding right for him. I plant a hand on his shoulder, swing my leg over his lap, then crawl on top of him, forcing my way into his hold. His arms come back together behind my back, keeping his book steady.

"Better." I finally mumble, once I'm in his lap.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"I'm better." I mumble, pressing my face into his neck, taking care to breathe in a way he can feel. "Thanks to you."

Close like this, I find the same feeling from earlier, a desire for his hands on me, running along my body, the desire to be wanted. I tilt in closer, arching my spine to press our bodies flush. I land a hand on his chest, and slowly drag it down his abdomen.

"Is that so?" Zhongli asks back, voice low, breathy.

I nod into his neck. "You took care of me..." I continue, dragging my hand lower with my goal in mind, resting my fingertips against his belt. "Now I want to take care of you—" My hand ghosts lower, until I'm resting my palm flat against where his cock sits.

I only make it that far before Zhongli's hand covers mine, stopping my movement, pulling it back. I tilt my head back, looking at him with a confused pout. This is the second time he's stopped me. His face is calm, neutral other than the slight uptick in the corner of his lips, his lowered eyes flicking down my face in a controlled way.

"You can't have everything you want." He says, voice low enough my stomach tightens.

He drops my hand from his hold, lifting his own hand to brush my hair from my face. He grazes his fingers against my cheek, holding his eyes on me until I falter, tucking my chin down, embarrassment burning my skin.

He immediately catches my chin, tilting my face back up.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" He says, then sighs, pressing his thumb to my lower lip. "You disobeyed our contract, broke my trust and—" His eyes flick across my face, calculating. "—you need to be punished for it."

I swallow, retracting my hands to myself, curling them in the loose fabric of the shirt I'm wearing, unable to look at up at him. This isn't what I expected, but—

"I'm sorry." I mumble, tilting my hips to press against his lap, keeping my legs spread. "You can—"

"No." Zhongli says as his other hand drops to my hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh to hold me in place. "What kind of discipline is that?" He asks. "Giving you exactly what you want—" He leans in toward me, until his lips hover next to mine. "Exactly what you're desperate for—" His hand slides up my side, to the bottom of my ribs. "—aren't you?"

I whine, nodding, breaking my thin restraint to roll my hips, pressing our bodies together as close as I can without him being inside of me.

"Please—" I breathe out, not above begging.

Zhongli's hands both drop to my hips, stilling my movement. He handles me with his firm grip, until I'm forced off of his lap. He moves my hips into place, sitting me down on his thigh. He holds me there, his expression relaxed as he stares me down.

"Why don't you show me? Show me how desperate you are." He says.

His leg lifts, pressing against everything bare between my legs, giving a moment of pressure. I nearly buckle, relief and arousal curling in my stomach as I finally feel him stimulate me. Then, he stops. I buck my hips, grinding myself against his thigh, chasing to find the same pressure again.

"That's it—" He coaxes out. "Just like that."

I warm under the praise, looking up at him through my lashes, continuing to move my hips, fucking myself against his clothed thigh. All I have the mind to do is roll my hips, my breaths coming out heavier, cut only by soft moans, the pressure between my legs from my movement enough to stimulate my clit.

"Such a pretty sight—" Zhongli continues, watching me. "—getting yourself off on my thigh." At that, his thigh lifts again, the pressure enough to pull another whine from my throat

His lips twitch to smile as he hears it, his thumbs hooking into the hem of my shirt. He pulls it up, just barely, not far enough to expose more than my thighs. He lifts his leg again, pressing until I gasp, clenching around his thigh with my own.

He relaxes his leg as I whimper, leaning in toward him. My hips buck, grinding at a more rapid pace, arousal burning low in my abdomen. I whine, lifting one hand to his bicep, curling my fingers around it, holding on to steady myself.

Zhongli tilts his chin back, watching me through half-lidded eyes.

"I bet you can cum just from my thigh, can't you?" He asks.

I nod, swallowing around my tongue, struggling to keep my eyes open as I roll against his thigh in a rhythm, fighting to stimulate my clit, everything between my legs dripping wet as it slides together.

"Pathetic little girl." Zhongli sighs out. "Undisciplined, so easy to make finish." He lifts a hand, sliding it up my thigh, until he's holding my waist with the shirt hitched up around his wrist.

He exposes me with the motion, his eyes turning down to watch me grind myself against his thigh with short desperate movements.

"I bet you feel good, don't you?" He asks, briefly flicking his eyes back up to my face. "Do you want something?"

I whimper, nodding, the movement of my hips losing rhythm, unevenly jerking against his thigh.

"Use your words." He says back.

"Please— please— let me cum— let me— let me cum—" I breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as I chase the pleasure.

"Not yet. Keep going." Zhongli says back. "I want to hear you keep begging... those little noises you let out when you're desperate."

I blink my eyes back open, searching his face as I nod. Though his expression remains calm, there's a flush collecting on his cheeks. And, when I look down, I see his cock is standing to attention, the fabric of his pants tight around the length. I whimper out another moan, twisting my hand in the fabric of his shirt on his bicep, changing the pace of my hips to move faster, the pleasure drawing me in.

Zhongli lets out a noise, holding my hip tighter to slow my movement. He leans in, pressing a kiss to my neck, the warmth of his mouth catching my heart in my throat as his lips continue, brushing along my jaw, until he reaches my ear.

"I can tell what you want." He says, voice low. "You always spread your legs for me, beg me to fuck you, like you deserve it." He moves in closer, nipping my earlobe. "Slow down." He demands.

I'm quick to listen, changing the movement of my hips to slow, intentional rolls, careful to stimulate everything between my legs with each movement. He lifts his leg between mine, pressuring until I whimper, arching my back to move with him.

"Such a pretty noise." Zhongli sighs out, relaxing his leg and leaning back again to watch me. "You can be such a good girl when you listen to me."

My eyes flutter shut, heat warming my chest as I bloom from the praise. I move my hips with intent, pleasure at the forefront of my mind.

"Please—" I beg again. "Let me cum, please sir—" The honorific slips off my tongue, followed by a breathless moan.

Zhongli responds with a pleased noise, his hands tensing on my hips.

"Go ahead." He finally assents. "Ruin yourself with nothing but my thigh. Let me see it."

Permission is all it takes, my entire body rocking as I roll against his thigh the final few times, crashing into an orgasm that grips my muscles tight enough I tremble.

I lift from his knee with a broken moan, tilting forward, arching my back as I succumb to my climax.

As I still tremble, coming down from the high, my breathes panted, Zhongli releases my hip, moving to press his hand between my legs. His other hand hooks into the fabric of my shirt, pulling it above my navel, displaying my body to him. His fingers slide against my pussy, eased by the collecting slick. They feel blunt, spreading me open, then—

I gasp as his fingers press to my clit. My still cum sensitive pussy flutters, gripping on air. My body is torn between pressing into it, or jerking away in over-sensitivity. My thighs twitch, abdomen held tight enough to hurt.

"Look at you." Zhongli sighs out, his eyes locked between my legs. "Such a mess just from riding my thigh— spread open like that's all you're good for." He moves his fingers, gently pressing his index and middle to circle my clit, playing with me despite the way I twitch in oversensitivity.

"You're beautiful like this." He breathes. "I can't imagine how beautiful you'll look when I'm inside of you." He says, then finally retracts his hands, landing them both on his belt as he carefully works to unbuckle and open it.

His fingers move quick, intentional, knowledgeable in the way he undoes the clasp. He doesn't go further than that, instead lifting his hand to catch my wrist, pulling it toward his lap. I whine, taking control back as my hand is guided, fumbling to push into his undergarments, wrapping my hand around his cock. He lifts his hips, helping me adjust further, until his cock is free, flushed red with blood, painfully hard, resting against his stomach, exposed.

My stomach tightens just looking at Zhongli's cock. I'm up before I realize I am, sinking to the ground on my knees, directly between his legs. He watches me with a relaxed smile, his eyes half lidded. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, steadying it as he lifts a hand to cup my cheek, helping me guide in. I push my tongue out, making contact with the head of his cock first. I lap at the slit, the taste of his skin salty on my tongue.

Zhongli's stomach twitches, his cock pulsing in my hand as I finally stimulate him back. I lower my eyes, staring only at his cock, then lean all the way in, taking him into my mouth with a soft moan.

I hear a breathy noise from above me, quiet, and force myself to take his cock deeper, feeling it throb against my tongue.

"Perfect— such a perfect girl—" Zhongli praises, running his fingers through my hair, petting me before he grips again, holding tight. "You know just how to make me feel good— so pretty with my cock down your throat—" He moans again as my mouth tightens. I fight to relax my throat, desperate to take him deeper.

I rock my hips against nothing, like I'm still sat on Zhongli's thigh, moans high in my throat vibrating around his cock. I can feel the arousal between my legs, cascading down my thighs, creating even more of a mess as I move my mouth on his cock, sloppy, focused only on making him feel good as I move my head.

I'm doing well if the constant low moans from Zhongli mean anything.

"Just like that—" He continues to praise. "So good—"

I flutter my eyes shut, forcing myself to take him into my throat again, curling my tongue along the shaft of his cock to follow a vein. His cock throbs against my tongue, his abdomen twitching above me. It lasts for only a moment before a hand lands in my hair, holding tight, pulling me off.

I look at Zhongli with a pout, noticing he looks fucked out of his mind, slowly blinking back at me. I move forward, pushing my tongue out, leaning in open mouthed, desperate for the taste of cum down my throat.

I look up at Zhongli through my lashes, begging with my eyes.

He huffs, blinking down at me. "Not yet." He says. "You don't deserve it yet."

Before I can protest, he releases me, moving his hands back to relax on his thighs.

"Up." He demands.

I nod, swallowing around my nerves, lifting back to my feet on unsteady legs. Zhongli's eyes flick down to my thighs, the slick coating them, glinting in the lowlight. His hands move toward me again, landing on my hips, tugging me closer between his legs. Once he's satisfied with my position, he lifts his hands to unbutton the shirt I'm wearing.

He does each button slowly, intentionally, revealing a new line of skin down my chest, down my stomach, following it with his eyes, until he opens the shirt, putting my body fully on display. I fight to not shy away as he drags his eyes along me, his jaw tensing in restraint.

He doesn't hold for long.

Zhongli's arms wrap my waist, pulling me even closer as he leans in, landing his lips on my stomach. His breath is hot as he drags his mouth across my abdomen, pressing a kiss when he sees fit.

I lift my arms, curling them around his shoulders to cradle his head, one of my knees lifting to rest on his thigh. He keeps one arm wrapped around my waist, tight, holding me in place. He drops the other, pushing his hand back between my legs. This time, he has a goal in mind, his rough fingers sliding against the soft skin of my pussy just to wet them, before pushing them further back, until the pads of his fingers just rest at my entrance.

I pull in a sharp breath, my legs tensing in anticipation for him to finally be inside of me, even if it's just his fingers. His mouth moves again, up my ribs, to my chest, his breath hot against my breast, his tongue pushing out to lap at my nipple just as— ah.

I gasp, my body tensing as Zhongli's fingers finally push in, two sinking into me, stretching me out as he curls them up, petting my insides. He distracts me by rolling my nipple with his teeth, a pleased noise low in his throat as I react, arching toward his stimulation, melting into his control.

His fingers are slow, careful to not hurt me as he pumps them in and out of me. I flutter my pussy, gripping down, desperate to feel him deeper. I lift my hands, carding them into his hair to hold tight, still cradling his head as he moves his mouth of my breast up to my collar, scraping with his teeth.

I feel the pressure of another finger resting at my entrance and tense my thighs, already stretched tight. His lips move higher, pressing a kiss to the base of my neck as the only warning I get before the third finger pushes in, pulling a whimper from low in my throat.

Zhongli keeps his stimulation gentle, darting his tongue out to drag it up the tendon of my neck, sinking his fingers back into me, stretching me with the taper of his fingers' girth. I tug his hair tight, tight enough to pull him from my neck, forcing him to tilt his head back and look at me. His expression is dark, unsated, desire apparent. I take panted breaths, staring back down at him as I milk his fingers.

"Please—" I breathe out. "Please, sir."

It's all it takes, the corner of Zhongli's lips twitching to smile as he pulls his fingers out of me, dragging a wave of slick with them. I tilt my head down to watch as he leads that hand to his lap, wrapping it around his cock, pumping and wetting the length.

His hand on my waist drops down my hip, guiding me to turn my back to him. He holds tight, lifting and handling me until I'm spread on his lap, my knees planted to either side of his, his mouth pressed to my shoulder. He wraps my waist from behind, holding me in place to his chest.

His other hand stays on his cock, guiding to press the head of it to my pussy. He slides against me, dragging the tip through everything sensitive, before lining up with my entrance. He holds his cock steady, kissing along the length of my shoulder, to my neck, waiting with his lips pressed to my ear.

"Go ahead." He breathes out. "Take it."

I swallow, nodding, looking down my abdomen, staring at his cock where it connects with me. I lift my hands, curling them around the arm he's wrapped my waist with, digging in with my nails to hold tight as I shift my hips, sinking down on his cock. I feel his stomach tighten against my back, a jagged breath escaping his lips as I finally envelop him, lowering onto his cock until I'm resting in his lap, our bodies fully connected.

I only pause for a moment, small moans slipping from my mouth as I adjust to finally being stretched on his cock. I can't help but move, lifting my knees to bounce in his lap, fucking myself.

Zhongli's sucks in a breath once I move, sharp, tightening the hand he has on my waist to hold me in place.

"Not yet." He says, voice low, restrained. "You don't deserve it yet. Sit." He demands.

I whine, fluttering my pussy along the length of his cock, just barely shifting my hips to keep stimulated.

"Please—" I beg again, desperate to move.

"No." He says back, firm in his resolve. "I want to see how desperate you can get—" His free hand drops between my legs, sliding against my pussy to explore where I'm stretched on his cock.

"Keep begging." He sighs out, dragging his fingers to my clit, evenly pressuring.

"Please, I— ah—" I draw in a sharp breath as his mouth continues to move against my shoulder, tightening down on the skin, sucking to bruise.

I whine as he loosens his mouth, dragging his tongue along the mark to soothe it, then moves higher, sucking another.

"I—I—" I swallow around my noises, hips fighting to move as Zhongli keeps me held in place. "I want you to feel good— please—" I manage to gasp out. "Let me— let me make you feel good—"

Zhongli makes a noise, low, that rumbles his chest where it's pressed to my back. He moves his arm from my waist up, dragging his fingers into my soft skin that gives under his touch, up to my neck. He circles my neck with his hand, his palm flat to my throat. His chin hooks over my shoulder, tilting down so he can watch the muscles of my abdomen tense, his fingers still playing between my legs. The hand on my throat tightens, holding me still, until there's a fuzz in my brain, intoxicating in the way he's controlling me.

"I do feel good." He breathes out. "—watching you like this— trembling little thing—" He squeezes the sides of my throat tight, speeding his fingers to a stutter against my clit.

I whimper, entire body pulling tight enough to shake, being forced toward another orgasm quicker than I can handle.

"You can't even control yourself— all those noises— you're so reactive." He tapers off, voice low.

He slows his fingers to more intentional strokes, dragging my orgasm out of me. I shout, eyes rolling back as the feeling overtakes. I dig into his arms with my nails, shaking through it as I cum in waves. It pulses through my abdomen, making me tighten on his cock. He goes until it's too much, continuing to pet my clit even as my hips jerk, whines constant in my throat, body arching away from the stimulation in oversensitivity.

"Please— sir—" I beg again, whining as tears collect in my eyes.

"You should see yourself—" He continues speaking, unfazed despite the way his fingers finally move from my clit, dragging up to rest his palm flat to my twitching abdomen.

I swallow, fighting to open my eyes, head rolling back, thoughts fuzzy.

"I want—" I start, mumbling. "I want to make you feel good— please fuck me—" I beg.

Zhongli huffs a laugh against my back. "So," he starts, soft, "You want—" His hips adjust, his arm steadying me as he finally snaps his hips up, fucking into me once.

It pulls a guttural moan from my throat, my mentality lost as I melt in his hands.

"—this?" He asks, rocking his hips against my ass before pulling back and snapping them again.

I whimper, managing to nod despite the way my head rolls back.

"Yeah— yes—" I mewl out, completely pliant in his hands.

Zhongli hums in consideration, tightening his grip on my hips to hold me still, then finally fucks himself into me, rolling his hips in a rhythm. The room fills with the sound of our skin connecting, my wanton moans a constant that he meets with heavy breaths of his own, unwavering as he fucks himself up into my lax body.

His endurance might be the death of me, his thrusts never stopping as I bounce in his lap from the force he's using to fuck into me, nearly just along for the ride, holding on tight.

I try to last, but don't make it long before the threat of an orgasm builds again, low in my abdomen.

"I'm—" I whimper out, thighs tensing where they bracket him, before crashing into another orgasm.

It rips through my body, hard enough to hurt, every muscle feeling exhausted, weak. Zhongli's hips never slow. Instead, he fucks into me harder, even as I feel myself cry out, face wet from tears and saliva, digging my nails into his arm deep enough to draw blood.

"Please— please— Zhongli—" I whine, tapping his arm, begging for a moment of mercy.

"Pathetic." Zhongli sighs out from behind me, though, he slows his hips to a stop, holding my stomach as I fight to catch my breath.

I try to relax, fluttering around the length of his cock buried inside of me. I realize, sitting down, his lap is soaked. I must have—

"What a messy thing." Zhongli observes first, rocking his hips against me.

"I'm sorry." I whimper out, flexing my numb fingers, trying to get a handle on myself. "I keep— I— it hurts— it's— I'm sorry."

"We can stop." He says, voice finally soft. "If that's what you want."

I'm quick to shake my head, refusing to finish until he's cum, until I've pleased him. I lift my own hips, fighting the ache in my thighs to ride, rolling back into his lap.

Zhongli hums, pleased, pressing his lips to my shoulder. "Good girl." He breathes out. "That's why you're mine."

I nod, moans high, whined, fighting my own body to ride his cock. I move in rough, jerky motions, lifting as far out of his lap as I can manage, sure to drag the full length of his cock out until the head catches my entrance, then sink back down.

I'm encouraged by the noises that start to slip from Zhongli, low, exhaled moans that come in tandem with each bounce. I steady myself, arching my back to ride with as much fervor as I can muster, colliding with his lap as I bounce.

Zhongli's hands begin to tense, his moans more frequent, his stomach tight against my back. It's almost a relief when his hips snap up, colliding into my movement, his cock jerking to flood warmth low in my belly as he exhales a shuddered moan against my shoulder, throbbing inside of me.

Shaking, I lift to my knees, only for Zhongli to pull me right back into place.

"I'm not done with you." He says, voice steady. "You're staying right here. I'll use you again when I feel like it."

I whimper, nodding. I can feel myself throbbing, milking his cock that remains buried inside of me, the mess between us growing.

Zhongli settles back, one arm still looping my waist, the other reaching to his side, lifting the book he was reading earlier.

It's humiliating, crumbling back to lean into his chest, eyes barely staying open, watching as he occupies himself by reading, all while his softening cock is buried inside of me, twitching every time I clench. Though, the break is needed, pain from oversensitivity fading.

He doesn't let me rest much, occasionally pausing only to fuck up into me, his cock growing increasingly hard as the time ticks on, until he's fully erect, rocking against me again. Though, he doesn't seem to react to it, instead continuing to read even as he tilts his hips hard enough noises slip from my throat.

Zhongli holds, unmoving, unwavering, keeping me split open on his cock until I'm throbbing, arousal low in my abdomen demanding I be fucked again. I squirm in his lap, clenching down, desperate for him to react, hold my hips, take what's his.

Instead, he reads his book like he doesn't feel it, feel me pulsing around his cock buried inside of me, cum and slick dripping from my thighs, my stomach warm where he's filled me.

Every movement becomes torture, every breath forcing his cock to move inside of me, teasing in the way it drags along everything sensitive. He continues to let his hips twitch, fucking his cock up into me with no real intent other than to make me whimper.

I only make it so long before I break, tilting my own hips, carefully lifting my knees to bounce in his lap in short, careful motions.

Zhongli notices.

"Did I give you permission?" He asks, voice low, freezing me in place.

I whine, shaking my head.

"N-no—" I mumble out.

Zhongli sighs, lifting his hands, slowly, carefully marking his page and setting the book down. His arm wraps my legs under my knees, lifting and holding them to my chest. His other wraps my waist, holding me in place, then, he stands, still inside of me, carrying me to his bedroom.

He releases me onto his bed on my stomach, keeping his cock locked inside. He presses a hand to the center of my upper back, holding me in place, then finally shifts his hips, pulling his cock out. I whine, clenching on air, feeling the cum-slick mixture pulse from my abused pussy, drooling out, across my clit and out onto the sheets.

Zhongli lets out a low noise at the sight, pressing his hand firmly against my back, before finally stepping away.

I whine once out of contact with him, shifting to flip to my back, look at him carefully slipping out of his clothes. He peels them off, layer by layer, until he's nude, then finally comes back to pay me attention. I lift my knees, keeping my thighs held together, watching as he watches me.

"You need to learn to obey me—" He sighs as he approaches, landing his hands on my thighs, pulling them apart. "You can't get out of trouble just by spreading your legs open and being my whore, no matter how much favor it wins you."

He digs into the soft flesh with his fingers, glancing down between my legs as he slots his cock against my pussy, sliding against it. His fingers hook into the shirt I still have on, roughly jerking the fabric to tear it off my body, until we're both nude.

Zhongli's hips roll, dragging his cock along everything sensitive while he stares at me, a mess in his sheets, twisting my hands and panting, begging for more.

"No one wants a disobedient girl—" He sighs out, shifting his hands up to my hips and holding on tight. He tugs, dragging me down the sheets until my ass hangs over the edge of his bed. He stands between my thighs, leaning in toward me, holding my spread legs upright.

"I'm— sorry—" I choke out again. "I'm sorry, sir."

Zhongli inhales, slow, restrained, staring down at my face. He shifts his hips back, until just the tip of his cock is pressed to me. He moves his hand until he can wrap the base, guiding it lower between my legs until the head rests just at my entrance.

"Beg." He says, low.

I whimper, nodding, a repeated 'please' spilling from my mouth like breath. I rock my hips, feeling the head of his cock catch as it slides against my pussy, desperation taking over the way I lift my hips, until I'm begging with my body, too.

Zhongli slips into a pleased smile, watching me break beneath him, until his hands tighten on my body again, holding me in place.

"You're such a good girl when you listen." He praises, then finally shifts in, pushing his cock inside of me.

I gasp as I feel him enter, eyes rolling back, scrambling to wrap his hips with my legs. My hands lift to my chest, curling there.

I brace as Zhongli drags his cock out, just in time for him to snap his hips forward, fucking into me hard enough I drag up the sheets. There's no mercy in his pace, the snap of his hips rough, colliding into me as he grips my thighs, trying to hold me in place.

I moan with each thrust, pulsing in tandem with the drag of his cock inside of me. I know I look like a mess, but I'm not present enough to care, instead focused on panting through my breaths as he fucks himself into me, the sound of our skin connecting filling the room.

The drag of his cock is perfect, stimulating everything inside of me, keeping me stretched open. I keep moaning, desperate, held tilted back, barely present enough to watch Zhongli fuck himself into me through my lashes.

I have to tilt my chin back, guttural moans carving my throat, entire body pulling tight as Zhongli fucks me like it's nothing. An ache starts in my core, forcing me to grip harder on his cock. It's a familiar tension in my muscles, dragging me closer to an orgasm, his cock pounding against every sensitive spot.

"I'm— I can't—" I sigh out, turning my face into my shoulder through my whimpered moans.

"Already?" Zhongli asks, never slowing the roll of his hips. "Pathetic mewling thing—" He moans himself, guiding his hand to wrap my throat, loosely holding it, digging his other hand into my thigh.

I whimper through my moan, too embarrassed to look at him, the roll of an orgasm building low in my stomach, close enough to hurt.

"I'm—" I manage to whimper out, before cascading into an orgasm, pussy fluttering around the length of Zhongli's cock.

"So quick." He chastises, seemingly unaffected.

I can feel my body trembling with the effort, it takes to be fucked, constant mewled moans spilling from my throat. I feel messy, used, my hands curling against my chest as he continues to fuck into me. The drag of his cock overstimulates, my cum sensitive pussy making me desperate enough that my thighs fight to close, preserve what's between them.

Zhongli refuses it, dropping both hands to hold my thighs tight, keeping me spread.

"No." He chastises, breathless. "You'll take it until I'm done."

I mewl out, desperate, darting both of my hands down to hold his forearms, digging in with my nails, jerking my hips as his movement never stops.

"Please—" I beg, not even sure what I'm asking for at this point, shaking with the effort, head rolling back on my shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir— please— please— it hurts— I'm sorry—"

I look up to Zhongli, pleading with my eyes. It takes a moment, but his expression finally softens, his thrusts slowing until he's resting with his hips flush to my ass, I continue to tremble, clenching around his paused cock. I jump as his hand connects to my chest, his rough skin tenderly dragging down my ribs and abdomen.

He goes to my own hands, prying them from his arms, lifting them until they're above my head. He slots his hand against mine, threading our fingers together, squeezing tight. The motion grounds me, preparing me for when hips rock, gently stimulating me with his cock again.

"You can do it." Zhongli sighs out, rocking himself into me, carefully moving his hips. "Just keep taking my cock like my good girl." He squeezes my hand with his as he talks, tilting his hips back to drag the full length of his cock out of me before fucking it back in.

"You're perfect—" He praises, even as my eyes roll back, "Such a— such a good girl."

I warm under the praise, blinking up at Zhongli as I come back to my body, stretched open on his cock.

"I'm—" I mumble out, disoriented.

He holds me tighter, leaning in to catch my lips. He exhales against them before we meet, kissing me with an even pressure. I arch into it, heart thumping as I warm from the affection.

Zhongli pulls back, hovering his lips next to mine as he speaks.

"You can do it—" He breathes out. "That's my girl."

I tilt my head back, eyes fluttering shut as I relax against the mattress. The drag of his cock in and out of me continues, gentler than before. He rolls his hips against me, breathy moans of his own escaping, a relaxed look on his face.

Zhongli squeezes my hand tight, a grounding motion, before his hips speed, chasing. I lift my shaking legs, wrapping his hips and holding on for the ride, my lax body dragging up the sheets, until, finally, his thrusts lose rhythm again, stuttered movement matching the moaned noises from low in his throat. I watch his face, until his expression breaks, the surrender of ecstasy taking over. There's a catch in his breath, noises low in his throat all warning whats to come.

I flutter around his pulsing cock as it finally jerks, flooding my stomach, his hand holding mine tight enough to hurt.

He watches my face as he cums, looking relaxed, before coming down, meeting my lips with his hips resting flush to my ass. I'm kissed hard enough my head tilts back into the sheets, trembling body otherwise pliant in his hands. He handles me up the bed, to the center, carefully to stay inside of me. I sigh as he relaxes, pressing me into the mattress with his weight, coming down from the high as our bodies continue to rock together, no real chase for pleasure in the movement, just a desire for closeness.

"I'm proud—" Zhongli starts, pressing another kiss to my lips. "—so proud to call you mine."

I muster just enough energy to smile, lifting my hands to thread them into his hair and hold him against my lips a moment longer, before I fully collapse, exhausted.

Looking up at Zhongli, wrapped in his arms, I watch his face soften. The severity of his expression eases, tension melting from him, until he finally seems relaxed.

"I'm sorry." I mumble again, quiet. "I'm sorry for breaking the contract."

Zhongli smiles, soft, bringing a hand up to cup my face, running his thumb along my cheek.

"I forgive you." He says. "It was a mistake."

His hand lifts from my face, grabbing one of my hands at the wrist. He places it above my head, curling his fingers around the bracelet he gave me to signal our bond.

"If you choose to do it again... I won't hesitate to remind you that you belong to me." He says, pressing a kiss to the corner of my lips.

I nod, eyes barely open, body sinking into the exhaustion that envelops it, finally feeling settled with the spoken forgiveness.

I would never get drunk in the middle of the day.

—but, if it means getting punished like this...

I might repeat the mistake.

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Hi,.....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from AFTG series? And why do you love them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the novels? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

ooh asking me to narrow things down, I love your bold choice! Thanks for the ask!

here goes, top 5 characters (I kind of hate that they're all men but oh well):

Andrew Minyard. I know he's an asshole; I know he's morally grey; I know he's violent at times. But he has an internal logic, an internal morality that does not match that of the world around him because his life has absolutely sucked. Though he rarely lets himself care, when he does, it's passionate and with his whole soul. He's a survivor, an endurer, probably neurodivergent, and that's something I can understand. He's also funny as hell, something I try to lean into when I write him!

Neil Josten. A survivor in a totally different way from Andrew. Where Andrew shuts down and endures what he must, Neil fights - often to his own detriment. He's so quick to pick up on things, he's so freaking smart in so many ways, he's complicated and messy in a way that is so real. I love the wry awareness in his voice because he knows when he's being a dumbass and yet he does it anyway. Plus, y'know, he was one of the first voices that resonated with my own when it came to attraction or lack thereof and made me go hm, perhaps I am ace-spec...

David Wymack. Look, the man's heart is far too big, he loves broadly and without judgement or fear. I know he's gruff, like the rest of the Foxes he can be kind of a dick, he's ableist at times at least in his language. But he believes in his little crew of fucked-up kids, he believes they deserve a chance not to prove they can be normal, but to prove that they deserve respect and love despite the fact that they're not.

Jean Moreau. We see so little of him, but he's just as much a survivor as Andrew and Neil. He's dramatic in a way that makes me suspect he's whistling in the dark - he's finding a way to be himself despite the abuse he endures. And while some of his taking care of Neil at the Nest was because he had to, there's reason to suspect that part of it was because he gets something out of caring for another. Maybe it reminds him that he's human.

Nicky Hemmick. He reminds me so much of queer kids I grew up with, people who leaned into and embraced stereotypes as soon as they were free of their abusive, homophobic parents because it was a way of asserting their identities. I know he seriously fucked up at Eden's, and he doesn't understand Andrew at all, but he suffered so much abuse, he went through so much, and he came through just wanting to help others who are also suffering. He gave up a good, happy life to take care of Aaron and Andrew, the former who he barely knew and the latter who he'd never met. He's a Fox through and through.

Top 5 moments in the books, in no particular order:

When Andrew came back for Neil when Neil called him during his panic attack, culminating in the kiss on the roof. Andrew's steadiness in that entire scene, the way he's just there for Neil while Neil is shutting down, and then the "I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren't mine" line... It shows how hard Andrew is working on his mental health and recovery, that he understands that as much Neil means to him he can't be everything because nobody can be everything for another person. But it also is when Andrew first makes it clear how much Neil means and just, oh, my heart.

Wymack picking up Neil from the airport and the entire scene afterward. Wymack being the one person Neil knew he could call, who he knew would pick him up and give him what he needed in that moment, after Neil was so afraid of him at the beginning. The fact that Neil looked totally different, and yet Wymack still instantly knew who he was. That Neil let himself fall asleep so deeply that he didn't wake up when being carried into the fucking apartment, because he knew he was safe. It's a huge breakthough and gets me in the heart every time.

The Baltimore reunion scene in the motel. Not sure I need to explain this one, but I think the line "I have to go, I don't trust them to give you back" sums it all up.

The shower scene. The intimacy they allow themselves there - not just physical, but emotional; the reconnection; Neil's desperation to know that Andrew still wants him, his need to just make Andrew look at him, his relief when Andrew opened up to him. Then the tenderness after, Andrew being careful when drying him around his injuries, and Andrew wearing his clothes, it's too much.

Nicky and Neil in the library. Nicky telling some of his story, us (and Neil) getting to understand more of what he went through and why that makes him so desperate for Neil not to think he's all on his own or to become too dependent on Exy. This is where we get the sense that Nicky understands at least the edges of Neil's mental health struggles, where he makes the connection between his own depression and suicidal tendencies and how letting other people in and finding people he could trust saved him. He sees Neil struggling and wants the same for him, and it always moves me. Then there's Neil immediately thinking of Andrew as being someone he can let in and trust and then going, no no, I can't (HA! you thought)

[rainieclown]

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter one: new neighbours

you've been in the haddonfield memorial hospital for what felt like forever with ptsd from a robbery gone wrong when a new patient gets thrown in next to you. he's quiet, perfect company if it weren't for the high security around him.

tags: medication, hospital settings, this is before michael gets out of the hospital, orphan! reader btw, it's spoken about more in detail in the fic, michael being a mute for a while, he does speak in this tho, smut, first times, michael being inexperienced, creampie, biting/marking, big dick michael energy, hymen ripping btw

warnings: ptsd themes, therapy, mentions of murder and depression, eventual smut, loss of virginity, mild blood, slight breeding kink on michael's end

a quick note!

if anything related to the ptsd the reader experiences is incorrect/wrong please let me know so i can correct it and learn! i am researching this so i can to write it with the accuracy it deserves<3

three sharp knocks wake you from your nightmare, you sigh at the sight of the ceiling of your hospital room. bland, the room is so incredibly bland. "y/n, medication time!" the nurse that takes main care for you chirps happily through the door, and you let out a wheeze as you sit up and pull on a shirt. "coming." you say, voice monotone and small. opening the door, you see the nurse with a tray, but what does capture your eye is the guards standing by a door nearby. "miss burnham, what's going on there?" you quirk a brow, taking your sertraline from miss burnham as well as the glass of water. "oh it's just a new patient, don't worry." the nurse brushes your question off with a kind smile as she takes the now empty glass back. "come on, breakfast then art therapy!" she beams, gesturing for you to follow her. you glance at the door again, before leaving with miss burnham.

breakfast is bland too, no sugar in the porridge, no fruit, no juice. it's so distastefully bland that you want to push it away but you don't want to get told off for not eating by mrs finch who was the more strict nurse that worked on supervision in the more social places, most of the time anyway. miss burnham sits across from you, reading over your schedule from her clipboard. "so, after art therapy is your free period, what do you want to do then?" she asks, looking up at you. "can we watch a movie with the others?" you ask softly, and miss burnham's eyes brighten. "you want to socialise today?" she beams and you sigh, taking a sip of water. "sure." you say softly, glancing around the cafeteria. "that's amazing, that will make outstanding progress!" she smiles, resting her cold hand on yours but pulls away when you flinch. "sorry, i forget." she says softly, but you sigh. "it's alright." you say, spotting a scruffy teen who looked to be the same age as you being directed to an empty table.

miss burnham hums and turns to see what you're looking at. "oh, that's mr myers, he's your new neighbour." she says when she turns back to you. "he looks interesting." you say, observing the cuffs on his wrist. myers plops down at the table, ignoring the bowl they put in front of him. "hmm, stay away from him. he seems to be under high security." miss burnham says, turning back to look at myers. the boy's eyes flicker to yours and your breath hitches, a sense of mild panic rising in your throat. "if you're done, we can go to the yellow room to do some painting with doctor piers." burnham says softly, pulling your attention back to her. "sure.." you mumble, and follow her out the door, past myers who watches you the whole way.

doctor piers is a happy man who greets you loudly. you don't like his suffocating energy, so miss burnham sits you down in your quiet corner and gives you your sketchbook. you sit quietly and draw things from your childhood, things that make you happy, all while miss burnham actually colours in a colouring page with the pencils you use. you felt peaceful with her by your side, she was like your big sister considering she was close to your age. "ooh, i like him." miss burnham smiles, tapping her nail next to the rough sketch of snufkin from the moomins. "thanks..." you reply quietly, letting the nurse push the pencils to you so you can colour him in.

for once, you don't feel alone... don't feel isolated with your thoughts and bad memories. miss burnham is your safe place, your new family. "so, y/n. are you interested in anyone in particular that you want to befriend?" miss burnham asks, the scratching of her pencil on paper stopping as she leans forward as if the two of you were gossiping about crushes. "not really... just think it's good to try and ease myself back into being around people other than you." you shrug, putting the green pencil down to pick up a yellow one. "that's still good. do you want to try and finish the drawing of him." she asks, flipping the page carefully to the recreation of that fateful night. your breath hitches as you stare at the charcoal drawing of the man standing over your mother. "what else do you remember, if there's anything else?" burnham asks, watching you carefully.

it comes back in waves, it was supposed to be a robbery, your family was in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood spatter, the ornament that was used as a weapon dripping with the red substance. tears fill your eyes as you let out a shuddery breath. "no." you say firmly, wanting to push the book away. "are you sure, you haven't drawn any facial features for him.. it will help the investigation a lot." your nurse reminds you, and your hand tightens on the pencil. "i don't want to!" you snap, getting up abruptly, chair screeching back. "okay, okay. deep breaths." burnham stands too, fighting the urge to gently rub your arm soothingly. "i don't want to think about it." you hiss, storming off. nurse burnham calls after you, and doctor piers looks up to see you making a run for it. "y/n, wait!" he tries, but you swerve him and run out the door.

nurse burnham can't keep up in her high heels, and you outrun her easily, making your way to your room after losing her. you're alone again, and you catch sight of myers, sat in his room just as alone as you are. the guard is talking to doctor loomis, a man who gives you the creeps. seeing an opportunity to get past, you slip into your room quickly, once again isolating yourself. in his own room, michael had spotted you through the glass on his door, and he walks up, peering into your room as best he can. "hey! back up, myers." the guard bangs his door, now without loomis's presence, but michael doesn't move. he's unfazed by the guard's aggressive nature. the noise spooked you, you looked like a deer in headlights as you stare back at him.

you seem... disturbed by something, and that upsets michael. the feeling in his chest, to grab you and hide you from the world grows at the look in your eye. michael's hand finds the door, and he yoinks it open once the guard unlocked it in an attempt to push him back into his cell. "hey! what're you-?" he cuts the guard off, knocking the man out easily. his body hits the floor as michael opens your door easily. you gasp, back hitting the corner of your wall as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "please, don't hurt me! i didn't do anything!" you yell, and michael shakes his head as he closes your door. "leave me alone." you repeat the three words like a prayer, voice quieter as your hands grip your hair with stress. "i'm not going to hurt you." michael rasps painfully, shocked at how deep his voice had gotten in comparison to the last time he spoke.

his words don't seem to get through to you, and he grows mildly annoyed. eventually, michael sits next to you and pulls you into a tight hug, hoping it would help as he had no idea what to do. you yelp in surprise, breathing slowing with confusion as you look up at the brunette with furrowed brows. "i-.. what..?" you stumble for words, but michael doesn't say anything, his empty eyes observing you. "thank you..." you mumble, once you calm down, and michael nods. "what's your name..?" you ask quietly, and michael continues to stare before answering.

"michael." he rasps, pointing at himself. "nice to meet you, michael. i'm y/n." you reply, eyes averting from his anxiously. michael sits with you as you start thinking. more intrusive thoughts break in, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes you as you rub your forehead. michael tilts his head, observing you. "sorry... it's just..." you sigh trying to find an explanation that didn't include what you thought of. "do you ever get intrusive thoughts?" you ask, finally looking at michael. the other teen nods, and you deflate with relief, he'd understand you. "they suck, don't they?" you chuckle half-heartedly, and michael shrugs. "oh, do they not bother you as much?"

he doesn't reply, and you nod slightly. "want me to show you around? i need to take my mind of things." you suggest, getting up and looking at the boy on your floor. michael seems to think for a moment before nodding and following you. you step over the guard carefully, and gesture for michael to follow you. the click-clacking of heels makes you grab the other teen's hand as you pull him around a corner. "shh! they'll be looking for me." you can't help but smile at the make-shift game of cat and mouse. it's been a while since you got to play games. michael blinks at you, letting you lead him around. "this is the rec room, it's the best room here. if you have a free period this is the best place to go. they let you watch anything they have." you smile, creaking the door open carefully.

doctor addison spots you and rushes over. "nurse burnham is looking for you." he whisper yells and you nod. "i'm showing the new guy around so shh!" you say, putting a finger up to your mouth. "it's good to see you getting out of your comfort zone. if i see her i'll tell her you're helping doctor loomis." he winks, and you smile slightly. "thanks addison." you say, pulling michael away from the room. "who's that?" michael's deep voice makes you jump. "oh, doctor addison? he's so cool, he'll give you snacks for after hours." you smile up at him, and michael notes the personality of the doctor. easy target to begin with. "you've seen the cafeteria so let's go to the gardens next." you say, peering around a corner carefully before ducking back, your back bumping into michael's chest. "my nurse is coming, quick, we can hide in here!" you whisper yell, pulling michael into doctor addison's office.

you close the door carefully, and michael observes the room. the decor is very vintage yet comfy, it suits the doctor quite well. you press your ear to the door carefully, listening as miss burnham speaks to doctor addison. you gasp as michael pulls you from the door, hand grasping your wrist. "are you alright?" you ask carefully, looking up at the brunette who didn't seem bothered. he shrugs, simply holding you near to him. your presence stirred something in him, and he didn't know if he should kill you or hold you closer. michael spots a candle stick, and his eyes dart from it to you.

michael lets out a silent breath as he decides on the latter, tugging you into his chest. your breath hitches as you hit his large frame, and your eyes come back to him. craning his head down, michael buries his face into the crook of your neck. you make a small noise, unsure of what to do as he takes in your scent. "uh... michael?" you furrow your brows, hands raised awkwardly as you didn't know where to put them. "shh." he hushes you, hands finding your hips. "what are you-?" your question is cut off by his lips grazing your neck, and it all clicks into place.

your body froze up, michael made a silent note of this. "i- uh.." you stammer as he continues to kiss your neck. "fuck, michael. we shouldn't do this." you say softly, glancing to the door. michael hushes you as his teeth nip your skin, he was testing the waters with you. your knees felt weak as your eyes fluttered shut. it had been so long since you had got to do anything like this, since you got to feel like a teenager. your hand find's michael's fluffy hair as you move his head closer to you.

taking the small success, michael sinks his teeth into your neck fully. the feelings in his chest explode as he finally marks you, suckling the dark bruise onto your skin. you whimper at the feeling, your other hand resting on his chest. eventually, his lips move again, and they find your jaw. you hum, letting him press closer to you as his lips kiss up your your own. when your lips meet, michael's inexperience really shows, he doesn't really know what to do so you take the lead.

eventually, his lips copy your movement as his hands tighten on your hips. you hum into his mouth, fingers gently stroking his scalp as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. it felt right, and you didn't know why. eventually, when michael pulls away, you gaze into his eyes and notice the scar over his right one. "oh, what happened?" you ask, fingertips gently grazing over the scar on his eyes. upon closer look, his iris was paler than the other, and you guessed his vision was poor from the one eye. you're not able to get a closer look as michael kisses you again. you hands cup his face as you melt into him, lips moving against his fluently. michael moves with you, and you gasp as your lower back hits the desk in the room. the other teen's strong hands lift you and plop you down so you're sitting on the hard wood of the table.

your arms wrap around michael's neck to kiss him again, and he's happy that you're slowly beginning to show interest in him. you make a small noise as michael pulls your legs around his waist, standing between them with his pelvis pressing against yours. teasingly, you shuffle your hips against him as you kiss him again. michael growls softly, grinding into you as he grasps your thighs roughly to stop your movements. "i've never done this before." you admit, keeping him close as he hums. "me neither." he shrugs, kissing you again. you feel eased by michael's lack of experience, it felt like the two of you were experimenting together and that comforts you.

eventually, michael's fingers find the waistband of your pants and you whimper as he tugs them down easily. "no underwear?" he chuckles softly, and your cheeks heat up. "some of us don't have that luxury." you mumble, averting his gaze. "it's fine." he shrugs, fingers brushing over your slit. you gasp at the feeling of him spreading you open, and can't help but move your hips against his digits. his middle finger teases your wet hole, and you whine when he collects some of it to bring into his mouth. you feel slightly embarrassed as he suckles your pleasure off his finger with no shame before moving his hand back down to rub his fingers over your slit again.

your smaller hand finds his, and you guide his fingers to your clit with a small moan. catching your meaning, michael's rough fingers start rubbing small circles over your bud. you gasp, back arching into him as his fingertips stimulate you. "fuck, michael!" you whimper, hands grasping his shirt to pull him closer. he hums at your words, moving so his thumb abused your clit whilst his fingers slowly pushed your hole open. you whine as his fingers press into you, your hymen stretching uncomfortably. "michael, please- i need you." you whimper, letting him lay you back on the desk. removing his hand from you, he pulls down his own pants, erection springing free.

you freeze slightly at his size, unsure if he'll fit. michael notes your uneasiness as rubs your outer thighs softly. you smile nervously as his tip rubs against your cunt, your hands grasping his anxiously as he slowly pushes into you. you wail as his cock rips your hymen, and michael smiles as your blood slowly smears his cock. "it hurts!" you whimper, grabbing his arms tightly with discomfort. michael shushes you, and gives you small kisses until you stop whining. once you've settled around the intrusion and your pussy adjusts to his dick, you give him the nod to say that you're ready. michael slowly pushes in so that he's fully sheathed before pulling out half way. you whimper at the feeling, pleasure slowly overtaking the dull pain you still felt.

eventually, michael finds a medium pace in you, smiling as his cock bobs through the skin of your stomach. you whimper, holding michael's arms even tighter as he fucks into you. "oh fuck..!" you yelp as his tip protrudes from your abdomen. "sh." he replies quickly as your back arches off the table. "fuck, michael- oh!" you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speeds up. eventually, his hand moves and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. you gasp and keen loudly behind your palm as your thighs tremble around his hips. michael grips the flesh of your outer thighs tightly as he adjusts your legs towards you at an awkward angle. despite the weird position, you moan loudly as his cock pushes deeper into you, his tip kissing your womb.

michael hums at the feeling as his hand gets tired of stimulating you, so as a substitute, he brings his hand down onto your swollen bud harshly. you wail at the sting of his slap, pleasure rolling through your body. taking that as a good sign, michael waits before slapping your clit again harder. unexpectedly, you cum on his cock as you shudder and tremble under him. your cunt squeezes michael's cock tightly, preventing him from moving. the way your gummy walls grip him as you twitch around him is too much, so michael pushes into your womb so his cum filled you up.

you gasp at the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, and michael seems to be loving it because when you come down from your high and loosen around him slightly, he's fucking his cum into you. you can't help but let out a small noise with every thrust, whimpering when michael stops, satisfied with how deep his cum had gone. your womb drinks up his seed nicely as you let michael grab your hands to pull you up into a sitting position. slumping against him, you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion. he grins at your sated state, pulling your pants up for you. once he is dressed as well, he picks you up carefully to bring you back to your room to rest.

michael ignores the nurses who try to stop him, marching past them as he carries your sleepy form to his room instead. he didn't know much, but he did know that only armed guards as well as doctor loomis were only allowed in his room for safety reasons and it was his best bet of keeping you with him. carefully opening his door, he closes it behind him with his foot and watches as the nurses stand anxiously peering through the window. he puts you down carefully on his bed, letting you settle as he sits down. his eyes find the nurses, one of them had left, probably to get security or doctor loomis. rolling his eyes, michael moves his attention back to you. you had already dozed off, and michael looks down to your stomach. the idea of you being swollen with his child excites him, a true marking. however, his hatred for children conflicts that, and he feels slightly frustrated.

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

[vantaenims]

color me red | jungkook

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: college au | fluff

word count: 1.5k

warning/s: profanity.

summary: You hate Jeon Jungkook but who are you trying to fool?

Part of BTSGhostieMarathon (Dialogue #2)

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

--

“Your handwriting is so small”, Jungkook squinted his eyes as he brought his head down towards your binder, “I think I need a magnifying glass to make out the words.”

You sigh, “Do you want my notes or not?”

“I’m just saying”, Jungkook teased with that annoying smile of his despite the deadly glares you’re throwing at him.

“Then i guess you don’t need it” you grabbed your binder away from him but curse Jungkook’s fast reflexes because next thing you know, Jungkook had your binder behind his back but bad for him, you’re not in the mood to play his silly games, “Jungkook”, you warned.

“Alright but i do need your notes so i could photocopy it”

“As if you’re actually going to read it” you scoffed as you went back to read your textbook.

Jungkook smiled, ignoring your statement as he stood up from his seat to walk around the table, sitting himself down to the seat next to yours so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders to squeeze you into his side.

“I’ll be back real quick, don’t want you to wait too long”

“Go away” you made a face as you shrugged his arms off of you, making Jungkook chuckle.

You look away from your textbook for a moment just so you could take a glance at Jungkook who’s currently walking himself out of the cafe and once you’re sure that he’s out of sight, you squeezed your eyes shut as you let your head fall on top of your textbook, groaning to yourself.

You hate Jeon Jungkook.

It was during the first day of the semester when you first met Jungkook. The whole class went silent as he entered the room, meekly apologizing for being late but you were too busy writing down your notes to take a look at who it was.

“Do you mind if i sit here?” you looked up from your notes and you could now understand why the room fell silent.

Jungkook is fairly attractive and you won’t deny that you’ve been swooned by those good looks of his as you immediately nodded your head, allowing him to take the seat next to yours but looking back now, you wished you didn’t say yes if you only knew how troublesome he was going to be.

As the semester went on, you’ve come to learn to look past his looks and make him out to be the annoying seatmate that constantly chats you up in between lectures and an airhead that kicks your chair to beg you for answers during exams.

You hate Jeon Jungkook.

Sighing, you leaned back on your chair as you thought of how stupid and pointless it is to repeat those words in your head because for all you know, Jungkook is the one responsible for putting those unwanted butterflies on your stomach you've been getting for a while now.

“Miss me?”

“No”, you firmly said.

“I got you this” Jungkook placed down a plate of cinnamon swirl right beside your textbook but you just pushed it back across him as you tried to act uninterested.

“Thanks but I already ate”

“Iced Americano isn’t a meal”

You eyed him suspiciously, “Don’t act like you actually care for me.”

“And if i do?”

You blinked at him as you try to decipher if he’s just shitting with you or if he does actually care about you but this is Jungkook you’re talking about, so it has to be the former, right?

“I know you’re just sucking up to me because the finals are next week” you stated as a matter of fact.

“I’ve been studying” Jungkook defended himself.

“What do you know about studying, Jungkook?”

“Ooh that’s harsh”, Jungkook clutched his shirt right above his chest where his heart resides as he feigned a pain expression, “Why do you think I always come here in this cafe?”

Well, that’s one thing you’re curious to know because ever since Jungkook coincidentally spotted you here and invited himself over your table three months ago, you know you’re done for. Specially, when he made it a habit to come here often and eventually made himself as your study partner that you did not ask for.

“I don’t know? So you could possibly annoy me even more?”

“You make studying more bearable.”

You snorted at his cheesy reply, “Yeah, it’s thanks to my notes, right?”

For a smart girl like you, Jungkook thinks you’re quite dense when it comes to things like this or were you just purposefully trying to reject his advances? It’s not like he could blame you, he’s totally aware that he incorporated a bad impression on you.

“Look, why don’t you try to eat just a little bit? I’m not trying to insult you or anything but you seem tired”, Jungkook said with pure concern written on his face.

“Fine then, if it’ll get you to shut up”, you cut yourself a big piece as you shoved it into your mouth until you were able to catch on the last part of his sentence, growing conscious all of a sudden, “I haven’t slept in 3 days. Is it that obvious?”, you whispered as you observed your appearance from your front camera.

“Well, that explains why you’re grumpier than usual”

You don’t look too menacing when you’re glaring at him with your cheeks full, making Jungkook smile at how silly and adorable you look but he was quick to purse his lips as he went on to do a motion of zipping his mouth, choosing to play it safe with you.

With Jungkook silent, you were able to read your textbook in peace but you find yourself glancing at Jungkook from time to time and you’ve never seen him this serious about his studies until now. Jungkook had his brows furrowed in concentration as he reads your photocopied notes whilst having the end of his pen stuck in between his teeth to chew.

You were unaware that Jungkook caught you looking at him until a sly smile appeared on his face, prompting you to look away as you shove another piece of cinnamon into your mouth to mask your embarrassment.

“I’ve been meaning to ask but what do these colors mean?” Jungkook referred to your color-coded notes.

“Why’d you ask? You don’t seem to be bothered by it before” you said with your mouth full as you try not to make eye contact with him.

“I told you, I’ve been studying”, Jungkook said, “But i mainly just want to know more about you.”

You choked on your cinnamon as soon as you heard those words and you think you’ll be dead in no time if Jungkook persists to act like this towards you. Nonetheless, you kept your composure as you took a sip of your Iced Americano before explaining to him what every color in your notes signifies.

“Red can be easily spotted among the other colors so i used it for terminologies since they’re very important, Blue is for the key words, Yellow is for the classification, and Green is for enumerations. Now, can you go back to being quiet?”

Jungkook momentarily kept his eyes on you with a smile on his face before he went back to read and you’re just grateful he never mentioned the part where he caught you looking at him. Instead, he did as told to remain silent but it was not for long until he called your attention once more.

“I have a question”

“I’m sure you could just search it up on the internet” you dismissed him as you’re too busy highlighting down your notes.

“No, you’re the only one who has the answer to this”

“I told you-”, you were cut off when Jungkook suddenly grabbed your hand to have you draw a red colored crooked line down his palm, “Why did you do that?”

“Am I important now for you to listen?” Jungkook raised his brows as he waited for you to speak.

You sigh at his wit, “What is it?”

Jungkook’s hand flew right back to his nape as he fidgeted with his hair whilst he tried to look elsewhere but you. From his actions alone, you could tell that he was acting nervous and shy though you’d like to know why his cheeks are getting redder by the second.

“I like you”, Jungkook blurted out, catching you off guard at his sudden confession, more so when he removed the red marker from your hand so he could replace it instead with his hand.

You could feel your heart hammering so loud and you were scared that Jungkook might be able to notice your quickening pulse through your wrist thus you tried to shake his hand away from yours but that just prompted him to squeeze your hand tighter.

“T-That’s not a question”, you stammered.

“Then will you go out with me?”

You roll your eyes as you try to bite back a smile, “Shut up.”

--

[taechaos]

can u do more of jealous jk drabbles?👉👈

this one kinda cute but theres smut 😃

The best time of the day is when the sun is just over the horizon, taking on a blue and orange hue in the sky, not shining bright enough to blind or give a heat stroke to the crowd in the amusement park. Just enough illumination to not have to rely on the lights provided from the ferris wheel, neon titles above the rides and games you stand before.

You can't contain your squeal and shake your interlocked hands with Jungkook while bouncing on your feet, the three companies you came with much more casual about the occasion. "Where should we go first?!"

Your boyfriend shrugs, Soyeon glances at Taehyung who makes the decision: "Rollercoaster." He has a crazed grin on his face, the sparkle and mischief in his eyes matching yours. Both of you are extremely fond of these thrillers.

"A rollercoaster...? I'll wait for you guys," Soyeon sheepishly holds her nape with a smile. You coo at her.

Jungkook scoffs arrogantly, "Are you afraid too, baby? You can hold onto my arm."

You blow raspberries and clutch onto your friend's arm, "I love rollercoasters." You and Soyeon gaze into each other's eyes as you say, "Don't worry. It'll be fun if you come with me."

She blushes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching the interaction with quirked brows. How boy-friendly of you.

The seats were decided. You all bought the tickets, and it's your turn to hop on the carts. Girls sit in front of the boys, and Soyeon hesitantly places her hand on top of yours on the railing. Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's arm, who is slouching in his seat with a frown.

"I'm so scared, Jungkookie," Taehyung's teeth chatter, "w-will you protect me?"

All the carts are secured as the ride slowly moves forward, slightly creaking as Jungkook groans, "Let go of my fucking arm!" Despite his relentless shaking, his best friend only holds on tighter.

"Why? Your girlfriend is having a sexual awakening with her buddy girl, why can't we?!"

Jungkook gapes at him, brows meeting in perplexity before he looks at the row across. The two of you have your heads leaning on each other, and no, that was the romantic scene he was supposed to have with you, not Taehyung who snuggles into him in whimsical fear.

"She's straight," he counters weakly, not even caring about his numbing arm from the sight before him.

The carts reach the peak of the tracks, a sense of adrenaline stirring in everyone's stomach and you squeeze Soyeon's hand comfortingly seconds before Taehyung's scream torments the whole population's ears. Needless to say, Jungkook had it the worst.

—————

Your boyfriend winces with a finger in his left ear as he follows the group with Taehyung next to him, behind you and Soyeon.

"Remind me to never go on a rollercoaster with you," he seethes intimidatingly, emitting a snort from the guilty.

"Ooh, bumper cars!" Taehyung childishly points at the competitive game. Jungkook smiles wickedly, "I'm going to give you a fucking concussi–"

"Boys against girls!" Soyeon chirps, and you gasp at the amazing idea.

"Yes! That'd be so fun!"

Upon seeing Jungkook's incredulous face, Taehyung bursts out in laugher and clutches his stomach, tearing up when he instantly goes in denial mode.

Which didn't help, because Soyeon stole you for herself once more and he is stuck with the dumbest person he's ever met once more.

"Let's beat those bitches."

"That's my girlfriend, Tae."

Those words were thrown out the window the moment the game began, because he became ruthless. Even Taehyung was getting nauseous from how violently the car was bumping against yours, the one Soyeon claimed shotgun in, rocking your bodies back and forth. It's revenge for not giving him the attention he rightfully deserves, and leaving him with who was supposed to be a fourth wheel.

No mercy, you must suffer.

When you all got off the ride, Taehyung couldn't stop stumbling all over the place.

"I'm going to throw up," he groans and pinches Jungkook's shirt.

"That settles it: I won," he shrugs triumphantly. Soyeon is quick to bite back, "You almost killed us."

"Oh no," you jump to his defence with a giggle, "he's just very competitive."

Your boyfriend smiles at your first acknowledgement of his existence, relieved as he throws an arm around you. "I'm not about to lose to a bunch of–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," you smile at him; sickly sweet with your warning.

He forces a chuckle, "–a bunch of strong, independent women."

—————

"You ever seen lesbian porn, Jungkook?" Taehyung asks as he licks up a fat stripe on his ice cream. Jungkook doesn't bother responding. "It usually begins with one girl being all shy and reluctant until the sexual tension becomes too much. Say they're studying, gossipping, whatever, the normal stuff. Then... one of them makes the first move, and the other eventually gets into it." He glances at his friend to measure his reaction; nonchalant and barely listening. "Oh, but I have a boyfriend, oh this is wrong, oh friends don't do this," he imitates in a higher pitch. "Then they fuck."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asks, flabbergasted and annoyed. He's holding onto your ice cream after you left to the bathroom with your friend, Taehyung protecting hers and licking the melted drops to keep the cone clean. What Soyeon doesn't know won't hurt her; the flavor is too good for him to waste.

"I'm just saying man, you never know with these girls," his cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh. Jungkook's paranoia is easy to mess with, and he knows he shouldn't do it so often, but it's just so fun. A snort slips.

"They've been roommates for two years, I'm sure if she was bisexual, she'd know by now," he spits defensively.

"Oh my God, do you think they got drunk and kiss–"

"We're back!" you announce and take your cone from Jungkook's hand, your friend doing the same.

"Welcome back, baby," he stands up to hug you, effectively pulling you a few steps away from Soyeon with a glare. You relish in it with joy, mushing your face against his chest.

"What should we go on next?" Taehyung casually cuts into your display of affection.

"The ferris wheel, maybe? Oh, Soyeon, you have–" you point at the corner of your lip, and she mirrors the opposite side, prompting you to reach out a hand and wipe off the stain with your thumb. Jungkook blinks in astonishment. Taehyung's eyes widen to saucers as he watches his soul leave his body. His words are getting to him.

Your hand is snatched away in a flash, and you're dragged away back to the stalls where he corners you, answering your unspoken question: "Hey, just wanted to privately ask you how your date is going with Soy milk." His voice drips with sarcasm, the attitude catching you off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I feel like I'm third wheeling in front of my own girlfriend," he scowls, and your heart drops. "You haven't done a single thing with me today. I thought we came here to spend time with each other, yet we've done anything but. Be honest, are you..." he gulps and averts his gaze, "is there something going on...?"

"Jungkook," you startle and place a hand on his chest, "it's nothing like that. Of course I wanted to spend time with you, but Soyeon's been trying really hard to mend our friendship so I thought I would reciprocate. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, but I didn't realize I was neglecting you. I'm really sorry, love."

Your explanation endears him, shoulders slouching in relief just before he murmurs, "But in lesbian porn..."

"Oh my God," you exclaim in disbelief with a laugh, "I just hung out with her."

"You know I get needy!" he frowns with flushed cheeks. "That bitch wouldn't let go of you for one goddamned second, if I didn't know better I would've dragged you away a lot sooner."

You coo at him and squeeze his cheeks before he shakes you off grumpily. "I was going to go on the ferris wheel to make it up to you."

"Oh wow," he rolls his eyes, "can't believe you found the time to think about me."

"So jealous," you tease.

"Shut up," he pushes your forehead with his finger, "before I try to mend my friendship with Soy milk as well."

"She is not your friend," you glare at him with hooded eyes.

"So jealous."

—————

"The ride is five minutes long," Jungkook blurts out of thin air the moment you step into the moving cabin. "And we're going to stop at the top." At your gasp, he continues as he takes a seat, "Yeah, I did that movie cliché and paid extra."

"Jungkook," you coo with doe eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, "that's so romantic."

"Hey, don't get all cute. You said you were going to make it up to me." He tilts your chin, "How far are you willing to go?"

His question doesn't throw you off, and you chuckle, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah? Your time is running out," he looks past the window to see how high up you are. Four meters off the ground, give or take. "You think you can make me cum before we get off?"

Oh. "Better choose fast–"

You fondle with the buckle of his belt and make quick work of your hands to pull down his black jeans that hug his thighs. You lick your lips for moisture, and after what some experiences have thought you, you know to spit in your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

"Damn, you didn't come here to play," he releases a humored breath as he watches you get him off. As if the limited time isn't bad enough, you have to get him erect in remarkable speed as well. He shifts slightly with a deep sigh, and when his cock starts to grow, you get on your knees before him and take the head of his length in your mouth. He sucks his teeth and weaves his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes. Thirteen meters off the ground.

Mindful of your pace, you ease his length inside by taking him inch by inch, swirling your tongue the way he likes it and bobbing your head. His grip on your hair tightens as a low grunt resounds in the cabin. "You're doing so well," he looks down at you with half hooded eyes, lustful in their gaze, "you want to make it up to me that bad? Want to please me? Gosh," he sighs.

You deepthroat him with your hand covering what you can't reach until he thrusts into your mouth. You gag in reflex, and he uses your hair as leverage to do the rest for you. It's sloppy now, and saliva drools from the corner of your mouth with welling tears. You can only hope he reaches climax in time. Twenty two feet off the ground.

When his thrusts begin to slow down, you take it as your cue to pull away and jerk him off, your tongue taking care of the tip as his breaths grow more and more shallow. You assume he's holding back moans as to not attract any attention to your cabin. Thirty one meters. You make it a challenge for yourself to make him cum by the timr you reach the peak.

"Ah, go faster," he furrows his brows, face twisting in pleasure as he leans back on his seat. Your scalp starts to sting from his strong grasp.

Your hand listens, and you suck harder on the head while teasing the slit, and he gasps louder each passing second. He's panting while forty three feet off the ground, and a few moments later, his hips lift off the seat as he groans, his release on your tongue that you swallow. It comes in stutters, so you keep your mouth on him until you've swallowed every drop to avoid getting banned from the amusement park. Calling it simply taboo is an underestimatement.

"Shit, shit," he breathlessly says and thrusts into your mouth two last times before pulling out, a string of saliva still attached to your mouth. The ferris wheel stops. "You were fucking perfect, baby," he murmurs and his head goes limp, eyes dazed from the climax. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile despite the ache in your jaw.

"Thank you," you squeak and sit next to him. His head rolls to you. "Is my face okay?"

"Oh, you wore lipstick," he laughs quietly and uses the hem of his matching black shirt to clean up the smudge, his stomach on display from the action. You sit still as he fixes up your appearance, brushing your disheveled hair with his fingers, and just to be extra, he adjusts your collar, making you giggle and roll your eyes. "Like nothing happened. I'll eat you out at my dorm to return the favor."

You blush in surprise at his words, but he dismisses it by looking at the view. The sun has set, and all the lights sparkle from under you and the midnight black sky. It's beautiful. You admire it with him.

"I can't believe I paid extra for this. There's not even fireworks."

BONUS:

Soyeon and Taehyung sit across from each other without averting their gaze from the sky, effectively ignoring the presence of one another until he breaks the silence. "This is so romantic."

"Yeah."

"If we were a couple, this would be the perfect moment to kiss."

"Um... I guess," she shrugs off his unusual flirting.

"You want to be a couple for this ride?" he suggests and looks at her with wiggling brows.

She doesn't return the stare, softly speaking, "No, I think I'd rather jump off."

He chuckles under his breath, "Jungkook is going to have a field day when he finds out you're lesbian."

"Huh?"

"I said why don't you jump on this dick."

[blessednereid]

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Career Day

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

L/N Residence

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Announcement

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Auditions

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Headmasters Office

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

First Rehearsal

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Talk

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Confrontation

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

[scuttling]

Patient

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 8,691 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy Kink, Daddy Training, Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Spanking, Oral Fixation, Office Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Subspace, Aftercare Summary: One month after the events of ‘Perfect’, Aaron has some very big plans for Spencer and Sophie—and a few things don’t go according to plan. Collection: Part 3 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! Spencer and Sophie are about to head to the break room together for tea when her desk phone rings. He reaches his hand out for her cup, earns a mouthed thank you and a smile, and she answers as he walks away.

When he walks back with their tea, she has a look on her face. It’s one he recognizes easily, after a month of being her daddy, a look that tells him it was Aaron on the phone. He smiles softly, sets her mug down on the desk. “You okay?” She nods slowly.

“Hotch wants us in his office.”

“Ooh, sounds like it’s time for a spankin’, girl,” Morgan teases, and Sophie rolls her eyes lightly.

“Reid’s coming too. You think he’d spank me in front of him?”

It’s kind of a funny question, because he has, on more than one occasion. Spencer has spanked her, too. It makes her flushed, whiny, needy, gorgeous—just thinking about it makes him hot under the collar.

“Come on, we better go up,” he says, guiding her to the stairs. If anyone has noticed him being a little more assertive with her lately, they haven’t mentioned it, and that kind of surprises him.

Adding him to their relationship hasn’t exactly been kept secret—they don’t make an effort to hide the fact that they all leave together sometimes, or arrive together, go to lunch together—but nothing has been explicitly confirmed with the team. Still, he kind of expected them to notice the change in him. He feels changed, a little more confident, a little less awkward in his own skin, but so far, nothing. He’s still just the same old Reid when they’re here.

When they’re not here, though…

They enter the office, and Spencer closes the door behind him. Aaron gets out of his chair, walks over to them, plants a warm, firm kiss on his lips, then Sophie’s.

“Mmm. Are we being rewarded?” Sophie asks, eyelids heavy. He wonders what Aaron said to her on the phone to get her so softened up already. “If so, I don’t know what I did.” Aaron chuckles.

“You can think of it as a pre-reward, because I’m going to tell you to do something, and I know you’re going to do it. Do you know how I know?”

“How, daddy?”

“Because you’re our good girl, and you’ll do anything you’re told, and because you're our horny girl, and I’m going to let you come after.” Spencer looks over at him, must look as turned on as he feels, because Aaron smirks a little. “I’m going to let you come, too. You’re going to do what I tell you, aren’t you, Spencer? You like that.”

Ever since the weekend he trained Spencer to be Sophie’s daddy, Aaron has been slipping in some subtle commands for Spencer as well, and he can’t deny the way his body reacts to the sound of his voice, the stern set of his eyes. He likes it both ways, likes feeling submissive and making Sophie feel submissive. He even looked it up on the internet, and he’s definitely not alone.

“Yes,” he replies, and he feels his voice is a little weak. Sophie takes his hand; Aaron crosses his arms.

“Try again. Yes, what?” Sophie looks up at him, chews her lip, and he takes a shaky breath. This part is new.

“Yes, daddy.”

It’s a good thing the blinds are closed, because Sophie kind of loses it, pulls the both of them toward her and kisses Spencer and then Aaron and paws eagerly at his clothes.

“This is so hot, can I suck you off? Please, daddy, I’ll be quick.” Her eyes are big when she looks up at him, and he sighs, like giving her what she wants is a hassle. Spencer hasn’t quite mastered the art of not eagerly letting her do whatever she asks, but he’s working on it.

“Okay, but you have to be quiet. I know you’re a loud, needy slut when you’re on your knees for daddy.” She nods quickly, and Spencer comes up behind her, covers her hands where they fumble with Aaron’s belt.

“Easy, baby. Let me help you.” He unclasps Aaron’s belt, looking up at him with undoubtedly hooded eyes, then unzips his pants, pushes them down a little. Aaron presses his lips together like he’s trying not to moan; it makes him feel like he’s being good and bad, and it’s a feeling he likes. “Can I suck, too, daddy?”

Aaron does moan at that. Spencer considers that a win.

“Yes, gorgeous boy. You’ll take turns: ten seconds each until I come.” Sophie is breathing so hard between them, and kind of trembling, and Aaron touches her face. “Calm down, love. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“Yes, daddy.” She swallows hard. “Can I start?” she asks them both, and they nod together. She squeezes her eyes shut briefly, slides to her knees, and moans softly as soon as her mouth is on him. In ten seconds, Aaron puts his hands carefully in her hair, guides her off.

“Spencer’s turn.” Fuck, this is so hot. He drops to his knees beside her, looks up at Aaron, and sucks tight; Aaron’s hands clench white against his desk. “Time’s up,” he rasps after ten of the fastest seconds of Spencer’s life, and when he pulls back, Sophie is on him immediately, hand on his balls, taking him deeper.

That’s not really fair, because she’s had more practice. He’ll have to find a way to catch up.

She doesn’t need to be told to stop, this time, and she puts her hand in his hair as he takes his turn, making him moan around Aaron’s cock. A slightly rougher hand grips him, tilts his head back so he slides off.

“Quietly, if you want to be daddy’s good boy,” he murmurs, and Spencer nods. He wants that more than anything. “Start over.” He sucks at the head, gets him extra wet, and bobs until he thinks it’s time; he pulls off with a lick, and Sophie leans in to lick as well, and they curl their tongues around him together even though that’s not the rule. Aaron doesn't seem to mind, tips his head back and clutches at his desk for support. “Oh, fuck. Jesus.” Sophie’s tongue touches his when she licks a stripe up the side of Aaron’s cock, and it takes all of his willpower not to come in his pants.

“Okay, my turn,” she says, breathlessly, and he pulls back to let her suck him down, stroking quickly; it’s clear he’s close, his hips moving slowly, because he knows she doesn’t like that too fast, and Spencer feels greedy, wants the come in his mouth.

“My turn,” he says, and she releases him with a sigh but bends down to suck on his balls while Spencer takes him in.

That’s enough for Aaron, and he comes with a muffled groan, flooding his mouth in a way that’s almost overwhelming, but he swallows, gasping when it’s over. Sophie kisses him dirty and deep, her tongue probing inside his mouth like she’s looking for a taste, and then she gives up and licks the head of Aaron’s dick until it’s too much for him and he guides her off.

They are all left panting, and Sophie pulls Spencer against her, nuzzles his throat.

“Can I suck Spencer, daddy?” she asks in a small, needy voice, and he groans softly. Aaron fixes his clothes, scrubs a hand through his hair.

“Yes, you can, my perfect little come slut. You’re unhappy because Spencer got to swallow for daddy, aren’t you?” She bites her bottom lip, and her eyes are wet as she nods. Spencer pulls her in for a hug, rubs her lips with his thumb. “You’re going to have to learn to share, sweetheart. I know it’s hard.”

“It’s so hard, daddy.” Aaron crouches down to their level, touches them both gently.

“I know, baby girl. I’ll let you suck him, but first, bend over the desk.” She practically scrambles into Spencer’s lap at his deep, stern command, whimpers quietly.

“What did I do?”

“I was trying to give you two instructions and you pounced on me. You were greedy and impatient because you wanted to suck daddy’s cock so badly. You’re going to get four spanks from each of us.” She looks at Spencer, squirms in his lap, and he kisses her softly.

“You heard daddy. Over the desk.” She takes a deep breath and Aaron stands, helps her up, guides her to the desk so her arms are stretched across it and her ass is out for them. Spencer rises to his feet, and Aaron pulls him closer, kisses him hard.

“Take down her pants. She was very naughty, and she needs to really feel these ones.” Spencer takes a rough breath, nods, and unbuttons her jeans, slides them down her thighs; she’s wearing a thong, so that can stay. Daddy’s rules. “Good boy. Kiss me.”

His mind goes blank. Even after sucking Aaron’s cock and swallowing his come, the thing that makes Spencer the weakest is hearing him say kiss me. That’s very interesting.

His heart rate picks up, and he flushes, pulls him close, kisses him deeply. Aaron’s lips are softer than his words, almost reverent as they move against his, and Spencer feels lightheaded when it’s over. “Perfect, shy boy,” Aaron murmurs, and he takes one of Spencer’s hands. “You first. A little harder than last time.”

“Yes, daddy,” he breathes, and the hand not holding Aaron’s comes up to smack her ass, making her lurch forward and whimper softly. Aaron leans in to whisper in her ear, and she wiggles at his words.

“Again, baby,” Aaron tells him, looking back, and he spanks her again; her head comes up like she wants to moan, and she’s panting, but Aaron shushes her, pushes up her shirt and runs his hand soothingly over her back.  “Good girl, just two more and then Spencer will come kiss you. You love his kisses.” He looks back at him, nods, and this time when he hits her, Sophie’s hips move afterward, like she’s looking for friction against the desk. It’s incredibly arousing. “One more, horny girl. You know you can’t get off like this, but you try anyway because you’re so fucking desperate.”

“Desperate, daddy,” she repeats, voice quivering, and after his final blow, she groans softly, sighs. He’s not sure why she sounds relieved; Aaron is only going to spank her harder. “Kisses, daddy?” she rasps, and Aaron lets go of his hand; the other hand is stinging, and he walks around the desk, presses it to Sophie’s hot cheek while he brings her close for a kiss. She sighs again.

“Four more, baby girl. You can take it, you’re my tough girl,” Aaron says, and he smacks her; Spencer watches her face carefully, marvels at how pain and pleasure are equally reflected in her eyes, her mouth. He presses his lips to hers again and she looks up at him like he’s her salvation; it’s enough to make him moan, press against his erection, and Aaron notices. He wonders if that means he’s in trouble. He didn’t ask to touch himself.

Aaron looks at him for a moment, then lifts Sophie by her hips, lays her more on the desk, so her feet are off the floor and she’s closer to Spencer. He licks his lips.

“Take out your cock,” he instructs, and Spencer does, fingers eager and clumsy as they unzip his fly. “Suck, baby girl.” Sophie shudders and scoots forward, takes him in hand, starts sucking like she’s never going to get the chance again. His eyes snap closed and he exhales deeply, palms pressing against the desk. “Stop.” She releases him, panting, and Aaron spanks her; her head sags, and Spencer leans down for a kiss.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good. Your mouth feels so good. Just two more and you’re done, perfect girl.” She nods weakly, her body shaking, and Spencer looks to Aaron.

“Time to suck, baby.”

He puts his hand around the shaft, brings his dick to her lips, and she covers his fingers with her own, sucks a little less enthusiastically—but for Sophie, that doesn’t really mean much. Her mouth is so wet, and he bets her pussy is too; he hopes she’s not so in trouble that she doesn’t get to come, because he really wants to make her come… But only if daddy lets him.

“Stop,” Aaron directs. She doesn’t, and that worries him a little. He holds a hand up for Aaron, pulls out gently, pries her fingers off, and crouches down so he can see her face. He presses his palms to her cheeks.

“Baby girl, you didn’t listen. Have you had enough?” Her eyes are a little teary, but she shakes her head no.

“I’m daddy’s tough girl. I can take it.” He sighs, kisses her mouth a couple times, presses his forehead to hers. When he pulls back, she bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut, and Aaron spanks her twice in succession.

Her relief at being done is visible, her tense body melting against the desk, and she reaches for Spencer’s hips, but he puts his hand on her arm, stills her. “You did so good baby, so perfect, but you need to ask daddy before you finish sucking, okay? Make sure it’s okay.” She nods, and Aaron comes over to them, kneels down to kiss her, touch her, praise her.

“Spencer is right baby, you did so good for us. We’re so proud of you. You can suck Spencer until he comes in your perfect, pretty mouth, and I’m going to rub your pussy. Remember to be quiet, and I’ll get you off.”

“Yes daddy, thank you daddy,” she says, rushed, and Spencer presses himself against her lips in reward.

She groans softly when Aaron reaches back to touch her, but she’s quiet, good; he lets himself get lost in the feeling, no longer worried about following rules, or making sure she follows the rules, and he comes within seconds. His orgasm is so good, deep, all-consuming, that he just stands there and catches his breath for a minute, and Sophie continues moaning around him while Aaron strokes his fingers inside her panties.

“Amazing boy,” Aaron says, voice low, and Spencer shudders where he stands. “So good to your little girl, and so good for your daddy. So obedient and smart and pretty.” His eyes close involuntarily, and he wets his lips. These words sound so good coming out of his mouth, directed at him, that it makes him hazy. Happy. And a little horny. “Kiss her, baby, if you can—if you two aren’t such a mess you can barely think.”

He kind of is, and he knows she is, but he likes kissing her when she’s barely coherent, so he pulls out of her mouth, cups her face in his hands, and kisses her, catching her moans and whimpers with his lips. “So perfect, Sophie, so good for us. Now come for us. Come for daddy’s fingers, okay?”

“Yeah, I can come for you.” She presses up against Aaron’s arm where it lays across her ass, and Spencer thinks maybe she likes the feel of him against the stinging redness. He leans in, puts his hands on both of her sore cheeks, rubs them softly, spreads them a little, and she sighs, pleased. “Spencer. Daddy.” Aaron glances up, looks at Spencer with a soft expression, then takes one of his hands off of her ass and guides him to her pussy, has him put one fingertip against her opening. Sophie comes the first time he pushes it inside.

She is so good, and quiet, and Aaron helps her off the desk and pulls up her pants, hugs and kisses her softly, while Spencer fixes himself up—between his clothes, his hair, and the undoubtedly foggy look in his eyes, he feels like a fucked out, rumpled mess. He gets hugs and kisses too, when he’s done, and Aaron soothes them, helps them through the blankness he caused so they can function again.

Spencer and Sophie both lean against Aaron’s body where he leans against the desk; he doesn’t look fuzzy like they do, but he does look very pleased with himself, and maybe a little like his mind was blown.

“So. Do you want to hear why I called you up here, now, horny little things?” he asks, holding them both close. They nod together. “I have to work a little later than you tonight, but not much. I have rules for while I’m not there. I want you two to go home, and take a very good shower, and get into some pajamas, and watch tv until I get there. You can make out or otherwise do whatever you like, but you may not come until I get home.” He kisses them each on the mouth once more. “I’ll bring dinner. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy,” Spencer says, licking his lips.

“Yes daddy, no coming,” Sophie recites, and she takes Spencer’s hand. “Back to work, daddy?”

“Back to work, baby. Smart and beautiful girl.” She gets another kiss. “Smart and gorgeous boy,” he tells Spencer, and he gets a kiss too. “Text me when you make it home, I probably won’t see you before you leave.”

“Okay, love you, daddy,” Sophie says, and Spencer follows her to the door, but she stops, puts a hand to her mouth and looks back at Aaron. “The fucking door is unlocked.” Aaron stands up straight, no longer relaxed as he had been, and he walks toward them. Sophie looks up at Spencer and swallows hard.

“Who closed the door?” Aaron asks, and Spencer swallows too. Aaron’s eyes are very hard and his jaw is clenched, and Spencer suddenly feels very, very small.

“I did,” he answers.

“Try again. I did, what, Spencer?”

Fuuuck.

“I did, daddy.” Aaron crosses his arms—looking extremely hot, for the record, like too hot for Spencer by tenfold—and then sighs very deeply.

“Okay. You obviously know you need to be more careful. I don’t need to tell you what could have gone wrong.”

He really doesn’t, because about a million things are running through Spencer’s head, and they all lead down a very bad road of joblessness, homelessness, Aaron-and-Sophie-lessness, and general mortification. He’s glad he’s not being made to feel worse than he already does.

“I will let you choose how you would like to be disciplined, since it’s your first time; it doesn’t have to be spanking, that’s just what Sophie prefers. She can explain your options later.” He uncrosses his arms, runs a hand through his hair. “Really, it’s my fault for not going over the rule again. What’s the rule, Sophie?”

“If you close the door, lock it, every time,” Sophie says quietly, squeezing his hand.

“Right. What’s the rule, Spencer?”

“If you close the door, lock it, every time.”

“Good. I’m not angry, so please don’t be upset.” He kisses them both. “I have a meeting at 3, so I need to get ready. Take care of each other,” he instructs softy, touching both of their faces, and they head downstairs.

Sophie remembers to let go of his hand, or he would have held it all the way to her desk.

“Was that a partner performance evaluation?” Prentiss asks when they sit, unlock their desktops. “I didn’t know Hotch was doing those already, it’s only May.”

“Just squeezing them in when he can, I guess,” Sophie answers. Spencer’s glad, because he still feels kind of low, doesn’t really feel like talking. She kicks at his foot lightly under the desk, a tap he thinks means ‘I’m here.’ Take care of each other. “Yours will be next week, I think he said.”

“Good to know we don’t have to dress up or anything. You look like a college kid and Reid looks like he just rolled out of bed,” Morgan teases, and he freezes for a second. He thought he fixed the blowjob hair. Sophie scoffs.

“He does not. I think he looks really cute today.” Another tap.

“Of course he does,” Prentiss says kindly. “So, how did you do?” He looks up at Sophie, and she smiles, takes a sip of her certainly lukewarm tea, taps his foot again.

“Very satisfactory.” The rest of the work day drags on, and Spencer looks sad about the door thing, so Sophie really wants to make him feel better. She starts by letting him drive to the apartment, and choosing the cheesiest 80s ballads to sing in the car on the way there. When she sings Keep on Loving You by REO Speedwagon as dramatically as possible, he smiles like she’s his favorite thing in the universe, and her heart feels so very full.

When they make it home, she gets them in the door, and then kisses him soft and slow, drags him playfully to the bathroom by his tie. He laughs, and puts his hands on her hips to stop her so he can kiss her properly again. “Hey,” she says gently when their kiss breaks, touching his face. “I really enjoyed myself earlier. Forgetting to lock the door, that’s okay. I did it too, once.”

“Oh, were you in the middle of a kinky threesome with your pants down?” he asks sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes.

“No, but I had Aaron’s head up my skirt and my tits out, so it still probably would have been frowned upon to have an audience.” He laughs softly, and she runs her hands down his body, pulls open his belt. “I don’t want you to feel bad, that’s all. It was an accident, it happened, it’s over. I get you all to myself for a couple hours,” she says, trying for coy, “and that’s never happened before, so I kind of wanted to enjoy it. You?”

“Yeah, I want to enjoy it,” he agrees, takes her face in his hands for a kiss. His lips always feel so good, like they’re caressing her wherever they are, and she sighs happily. “But remember, no coming,” he adds, voice low, and she gives him an appraising look.

“Is that my daddy talking? ‘Cause I want to know how bratty I can be.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he murmurs, pulling her t-shirt over her head, and she guides him down for a deep, steamy kiss.

“In that case, I just want Spencer.” She unbuttons his pants, loosens his tie, and they finish undressing each other pretty quickly for two people who aren’t actually going to have sex. When they step under the hot waterfall of the shower, they kiss and touch a little more, and she moans against his arm when he reaches down to touch her between her legs. “What happened to no coming?” she breathes, and he grins a bit wickedly.

“From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty good at not coming. Almost as good as you are at coming. Maybe I want to tease you a little.”

“If you really want to tease me, put your dick in me and don’t let me come on it.” He licks his lips, looks calculating, and she holds up her finger. “No, stop, I’m just kidding. Do not do that. I might cry.”

“What I’m hearing is, not tonight, Spencer,” he emphasizes. “That sounds like something your daddy might do, though, sometime.” She squeezes her legs together, loves when he refers to himself as daddy, even if she likes playing with Spencer as he is as well. Her pussy is complicated.

“Yes, definitely. For now, though, there’s something I wanted to talk about.” He looks at her, so serious, and she touches his face. “When daddy says to take a very good shower, that usually means anal, of some sort, so. Since he told us both to shower… is that going to be okay with you? Because if it’s not, that’s a grenade I’m happy to fall on for you, so to speak.” She sees him process that, and he flushes pink.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s okay with me. I’ve never seen him do it to you, but you like it? It doesn’t hurt?” He cups her cheek, her wet hair, so gentle.

“Well, what’s okay for me may not be okay for everyone, but yes, I like it, and no, it doesn’t hurt. Aaron is so good; he takes his time and makes it feel so good that even his cock isn’t too much. And he goes slow. It’s not like porn, you know? That stuff is made for and by people who fuck, not people who get fucked.”

“Yeah, I get that. I want to, I—I want to.”

“It’s not a guarantee or anything, if he’s not feeling it, but I wanted to let you know just in case. And for the record, I think it would be really sexy to watch him come in you.” Just the thought makes her super horny, and she can tell it makes him lose his mind, so she guides him down for a kiss so she can get her tongue in his mouth. They kiss for a long time, and when Spencer pushes her up against the glass door of the shower and it rattles in the track, she moans. “Fuck, I’m so horny. If I didn’t get spanked already today I’d get off and say fuck the consequences.”

“I think it would be worth it, to feel you come on my cock,” he pants, grabbing her ass, and she holds his shoulders tightly, moves so that his knee is in the perfect spot for her to rub against. When she starts, he groans, squeezes her tighter. It still kind of hurts, which feels really good. “Baby girl, you’re killing me.”

“Just a little taste,” she begs, grinding her pussy on him, and he lets her for a minute before stopping her with forceful hands on her hips.

“Okay, okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Let's get cleaned up so when he gets home we’ve been good and we get what we want.” She knows he’s not daddy right now, but he’s being so sweet, and taking care of her, that she feels herself falling, a little bit. She swallows, nods.

“Okay. Thank you.” They kiss, but they don’t let themselves get distracted; they clean up well and dry off and get into pajamas—Spencer’s wearing boxers, and they’re each wearing one of Aaron’s t-shirts, because he’s not the only one who gets to be a fucking tease—and they’re on the couch making out when he makes a soft noise like he’s remembered something.

“You’re supposed to tell me how I can be punished.”

“Disciplined,” she corrects, gently. “Aaron doesn’t like to think of it as punishment, but discipline. If you call it punishment, he won’t do it. But anyway. You could be spanked, like me, or tied up and not allowed to touch him—that’s too much for me, I cried. Aaron does not like to see me cry.”

“I wouldn’t either, baby. You’re too sweet, you don’t deserve to cry. You only deserve good things.” She thanks him, kisses him softly, tenderly, climbs into his lap.

“You could also have him deny you an orgasm for a while by like, literally pretending you aren’t there. We tried it and I cried again, but don’t let me scare you. You might like it.”

“Soft, sappy girl,” he says with a half smile, and she wants to kiss it off of him.

“Yeah, what can I say? I'm just as emotionally needy as I am physically. Fair warning.”

“I think I’m up to the challenge,” he says, looking serious, and he brings her close for another sweet kiss that turns more heated as she presses closer, winds her arms around his neck. “Sophie,” he sighs between kisses, and she weaves fingers in his hair.

“I want you.” Her brain is clouded by lust, and while it’s not the dizzying pleasure of being dominated by her daddies, it's something more, she can feel it. “I want you just as you are, funny and sweet and shy and the smartest guy in the room no matter what room you’re in. I love all that about you.” His hips move under her, she can feel how hard he is, and she moves too, grinds down, kisses him.

“I love you,” he pants, and her hips still, because despite all the sweet and sexy and frankly filthy things he’s said to her in the last month, it’s the first time he’s said that. “It’s okay if you don’t love me back—”

“Oh, shut up. I love you.” She climbs off his lap and tugs his boxers down, and she slowly sinks onto his cock with the help of his careful hands; she wraps her arms around him, puts her mouth on his as she starts to move. He pulls back to speak, and she kisses him hard. “Spencer, I swear if you talk to me about rules I’m going to murder you.”

“But no coming,” he reminds her with a groan as she bounces hard, her chest heaving. His arms are around her waist, snaked up her back, and she can’t believe plain old sex can feel this good.

“We’ll get a pass, I promise. I promise.” She pushes a hand through his hair, kisses him more gently than before. “I love you, let me fuck you. I know you just wanna be good, but let me fuck you.”

“Fuck, Sophie.” His hips slam up hard, and she swears it’s over, but he slows back down again and she sighs, like a part of her still cares about the rules, doesn’t want them to be naughty. It’s not a minute later that Aaron walks through the door, bags in hand, and Spencer groans. “Oh, thank god.”

“What’s going on here?” he asks calmly, putting the bags on the counter and taking off his tie, and fuck, that’s just what she needed to help her finish this stupid, loving, deeply hot sex she impulsively started. She comes, her hips moving fast and her pussy clenching around him, and Spencer moans and presses his face against her shoulder, holding her body tight and coming inside her.

Aaron comes up behind her, shoves a thumb in her mouth, possessive, and she sucks it slow and then pants when it’s gone, “he said he loves me.”

He drops to the couch beside them, runs his hands over the both of them while they calm down, and then he presses his lips to theirs. He rests his forehead against Spencer’s, sweat be damned, and Spencer says, “I love you, too.”

He and Aaron kiss, and Aaron says it back, and Sophie feels kind of bad that they can’t have the same sex just yet, but she’s also not moving unless someone makes her.

“We love one man with impeccable timing,” she says when they come up for air, “because technically you said we couldn’t come until you got home, and you were very much home when your impatient little things had their happy love orgasms.”

“You can have this one on the technicality, but just because I’m happy too,” Aaron says, touching her lips. “But don’t think that means you can challenge daddy ever again, little girl, because you’ll learn quickly that it’s not in your best interest.” That sends a shiver of daddy-specific pleasure up her spine, and Spencer’s too, apparently, because he whines.

“Are you gonna fuck my ass?” Spencer asks Aaron, and Sophie laughs, because they’ve finally found the thing that makes him sound dumb, and turns out it’s just love and lots of good sex. Hilarious. They have dinner shortly after Aaron arrives at home, since Spencer and Sophie aren’t exactly desperately turned on like he’d planned, but what happened was better than he had planned, anyway, so he’s not upset in the slightest.

After dinner—which they sit through looking so sweet and innocent, as if he didn’t walk in to see them fucking in his clothes—everyone gets naked and piles onto the bed for kisses and cuddles. Aaron is in the middle of the love fest, and his heart is so full of love for them it almost hurts.

He never would have thought he’d get to have any of it, let alone all of it.

It’s Sophie who starts it—go figure—by curling her leg around his hip while they kiss, and Aaron softly but firmly tells Spencer to get the lube, which makes them both anxious and squirmy. He squeezes her cheek, gives himself a little more room to work with, and then presses a wet finger against her ass, pushes it in slowly until she gasps. He’s only gone about an inch, but that’s all it takes for her to start moaning, because she fucking loves this.

“Oh, daddy. Please, daddy.” She clings to his shoulders and hitches her leg up higher, and Spencer watches carefully as he pulls his finger out, adds more lube, pushes it in further. “Fuck, yes, daddy.”

“Be patient, sweet girl. You know this takes a while.” He thrusts his finger in and out a handful of times, and Spencer shushes her when she starts begging for more. It’d be enough to make him hard, if he hadn’t already been as soon as he walked through the door.

When she is used to the feeling of one, of how deep he can get it, he pulls out his finger, lubes up another, and slowly inches them in. She feels like silk inside, hot and smooth and perfect, and he holds her tight so she won’t try to buck into the thrusts of his hand, just in case.

“Oh, god,” Spencer groans as he watches him open her up, as he pushes just a little deeper, as he stretches her just a little further. “Can I try, daddy?” he asks, low, and Sophie moans at the idea.

“Yes, perfect boy, but you must follow the rules. Slow and easy, very gentle. Can you promise me?”

“I promise, daddy,” he says, looking so gorgeous and serious, and Aaron removes his fingers and slicks up two of Spencer’s, kisses Sophie’s skin when he slowly sinks them inside. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mmm, daddy. Spencer. Oh, please,” Sophie mewls, bringing up a hand to tug at Aaron’s hair. “Feels so good, daddy. You’re so amazing, daddy.”

“It’s Spencer now, baby,” he says softly, pushing her hair back from her face, and she leans in to kiss him.

“I know, but everything Spencer knows, daddy taught him, and it feels so good.” Aaron closes his eyes, exhales softly. She’s so perfect, and being so patient, and he loves her so much.

“Yes, baby. I taught him because I knew he’d be so good to you, baby girl, and look at him. He’s opening up your ass so carefully because he loves you.” Spencer pulls his fingers out and slicks up a third, and he’s gentle with her, moves his fingers in and out but also side to side, spreading them apart a little. She moans, clings to him, and he reaches down a hand to press himself inside her pussy, pumping slow. A little extra pleasure never hurt anyone, especially when having three long fingers working at their ass.

“Oh, god, yes, daddy.” She doesn’t move, because she’s a good girl and she knows to be still for Spencer, but he can tell she wants to, wants to force his cock deeper inside, then Spencer’s fingers. “Daddy, I’m ready.”

“I don’t think so,” he says carefully, doesn’t want to upset her. “Almost, but not just yet. Let Spencer’s fingers do their job, so his big cock doesn’t hurt you.” They both groan at that—maybe Spencer didn’t think Aaron would let him? But if he wants fucked so badly he’d like to try to soften him up a little first—and Aaron moves carefully inside her. “I’ll let you take us both together if you can be very good and still for me.”

That turns her dial up to 11, and she starts blabbering, and every other word is daddy: “Yes daddy, please daddy, thank you daddy. I’ll be good, daddy, I want you both daddy, I can take it daddy.”

“Fuck. I think she’s ready, daddy, can you check?” Spencer asks, and Aaron smiles. He is such a good boy.

“Yes, baby, let me check and then you can put your cock inside her and feel how tight she is there.” Spencer slips his fingers out, and she whines at the loss, but Aaron slicks his fingers up carefully and pushes them inside her, grinding them and spreading them apart to make sure she is okay with the stretch. She only moans, claws at his back, and he is so turned on, so ready to come inside her it’s unreal. “Okay, sweet girl, your ass is ready. Tell us if you hurt or it’s uncomfortable, and let us know if you’ve had enough. Grab a condom, Spencer.”

“Yes, daddy, I’ll tell you, I promise. Thank you.” They kiss, and Spencer puts the condom on and gets it very slippery, and he leans in to nuzzle against her neck, and Aaron holds her while he presses inside. Sophie starts panting, vibrating in his arms like she wants to move but knows she’s been asked to keep still. “Fuck, yes, oh my god. I need this. Please.”

“Easy, baby,” Spencer says, holding her hip. “You’ve got us, we’re here. Just follow daddy’s rule and be still and we’ll make you come hard.” She nods, frantic, and they move inside her, slowly, taking turns thrusting inside her perfect, tight body.

“Perfect, needy girl. Such a needy slut for us, you want both cocks inside you, fucking you together.”

“Yes, daddy, oh my god. Yes. Needy slut, I’m getting fucked just like a needy slut,” she rambles, holding onto him, reaching back for Spencer. “Spencer, I’m being a good girl, are you proud?” she asks, breathless, and Aaron groans, puts his hands on Spencer so he’ll stop moving, and then thrusts inside her a few times, coming hot and deep. Sophie moans long, and Spencer rubs his hands over her breasts.

“Yes, Sophie, so proud, you’re doing so good. Do you feel daddy’s come? Does it feel so good?”

“So good, it feels so good. Wait until you feel it. Even with a condom, it feels so good when daddy comes.”

Aaron feels lost for a moment, overwhelmed, like they don’t even need him, but then Spencer starts thrusting again, and Sophie clutches at Aaron, puts her mouth against his shoulder and moans and whines, and he remembers how special this is, the three of them, how good. How they all need each other for it to work.

“I love you, daddy. I need you, daddy,” Sophie murmurs like she can tell what he’s feeling, and he touches her face, kisses her deeply, lovingly. He reaches for Spencer, too, caresses his cheek.

“Good boy Spencer, keep fucking. She loves feeling you there. Your turn is next, but remember, you’ll have to be patient.” Spencer closes his eyes, his breathing heavy.

“Yes, daddy. I want you inside me. I’ll be patient.” He squeezes Sophie’s breasts, thrusts a little quicker, like he’s getting close. “Feeling good?” he asks against her neck, and she nods, hums.

“Yes, please come in me. You feel so good, I wanna move, I wanna come.”

“You’re gonna come, baby. You can move a little; I’ll rub your clit,” Aaron promises, and he reaches down between them, slides his fingers over her where she’s swollen. “You’re so messy, baby, between the three of us. You’re getting pumped full of come tonight, dirty, horny girl.”

“Oh, yes daddy. I’m a mess, full of come, still desperate for more.” Spencer grunts, holds her still, and snaps his hips against her, pressing deep and spilling inside the condom, and Sophie all but screams, comes, writhing between them. “God, oh god, fuck, Aaron, Spencer, fuck.”

“Fuck, Sophie, yeah. Keep coming,” Spencer pants, pumping inside even though he’s spent, and he wrings several more groans and shivers out of her before she leans back against him, sighing, satisfied. They both pull out, and Aaron hugs her close between them, because he knows she’ll feel empty and get a little sad, and he’d like to prevent that if possible.

“Beautiful, perfect, good girl,” he coos, and he rubs Spencer’s back, keeps him pressed against her. “You did so good for us, you were so full, and now you’re empty, but we’re right here. We’re still here and we’re not going anywhere.”

“Not going anywhere,” Spencer reiterates, rubbing Aaron’s arm. “So proud of you, letting us both come inside, coming so long and hard for us. You’re our perfect baby girl.” She hums, rubs against them like a pleased cat.

“I’d do anything for you, anything.” They continue to touch her and each other, give her lots of skin contact, and when she’s fully herself again they take her to the bathroom to clean her up.

Aaron pulls the comforter off the bed, because it’s a sticky mess, and they pile back on, kissing and touching softly. Spencer is in the middle, and Aaron grabs two handfuls of his ass, squeezes, making him moan.

“Are you ready to start, sweet boy? Do you want daddy’s fingers?” Spencer presses his teeth into his bottom lip, breathes hard.

“Yes, daddy. Please, daddy.” Aaron rewards him with kisses, pulls a pillow down and guides him onto his stomach. Sophie curls around his head and brushes her fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to feel so good, daddy will make you feel only good just like you did for me, I promise,” she says, and Aaron spreads Spencer’s legs, leans between them to lick gently at his hole; Spencer curses, rubs against the bed, and Sophie laughs softly. “Oh yeah. There’s that, too.”

Aaron smiles, because Spencer is going to be a gorgeous fucking mess when all is said and done, and that’s kind of what he’s been waiting for.

“Do you like that, Spencer? Tell daddy. Do you like my tongue?”

“Oh, god, yes daddy,” Spencer groans, and he leans in and licks again; Spencer’s fingers fist in the sheets. “Feels so good, daddy, thank you daddy.”

“You’re welcome, gorgeous boy. You’ve been so good for me, I wanted to treat you to something special.” He flicks his tongue quickly a dozen times, then presses the tip of it past the barrier, and Spencer arches his back, moans loudly. Sophie is getting flushed just watching him, and she smooths back his hair, murmurs sweet words just for him. “Spencer, I want you to do something for me. I want you to lick Sophie’s pussy while I continue. Sophie, open your legs for him.” She whines, but does as she’s told, and Spencer pulls her closer, buries his face in her and eats her just the way she likes. He’s had plenty of practice, by now.

She curls fingers in his hair, and Aaron dives back in, licking and probing with his tongue until he is wet and soft and moaning against Sophie’s clit.

“Oh, you’re a slut for it, Spencer, eating pussy and having your ass eaten too. Horny, desperate boy for daddy. Are you leaking onto the sheets?”

“Yes, daddy,” he pants, pulling away from Sophie, and she rubs his shoulders soothingly. “Yes, I’m a slut, daddy, making such a mess of myself. My dick is wet and my face is, too.”  Aaron closes his eyes, exhales deeply. This may be a little more than he bargained for.

“Of course, dirty boy. When you eat Sophie’s pussy, you do it right, make her wiggle and whimper. You love it, getting messy, filthy.” He presses his tongue inside again, and Spencer whines.

“Fuck, yes, daddy. Filthy.” He rests his head against Sophie’s thigh for a moment and then licks at her, holding her hips, moaning while Aaron moves his tongue inside him. “Daddy, fingers, please. It feels too good,” he shudders, and Aaron doesn’t want him to come just yet, so he pulls back, leans up on his knees and finds the lube.

“Okay, since you’re such a good boy, I’ll open you up for daddy’s cock now. Do you think you can take me?” Sophie whines, either at his words or Spencer’s tongue, he’s not quite sure.

“I can take you, daddy, yes, daddy. You can hold me down, and, and…” Aaron slides a wet finger in easily, and he thinks Spencer’s mind goes a little blank. It takes him a moment to finish his thought. “And, and fuck me, daddy.”

“Oh, I’m going to, sweet boy. I’ll hold down your arms and pump into your tight, perfect ass and make you come on my cock, gorgeous boy.” Spencer moves his hips a little, rubbing his dick against the bed, and Aaron presses a palm to his lower back. “Be still, baby. You have to be patient for me or I’m going to stop.”

“Yes daddy, please don’t stop, I’ll be patient. Don’t stop,” he begs, and Aaron lubes up a second finger and slides them inside together, and Spencer trembles, whimpers.

“Put that mouth to good use and make Sophie come, filthy boy,” he instructs, and Sophie whines, rolls her hips against nothing.

“I don’t need it, daddy, it’s okay,” she pants, but Spencer knows better, shifts up to suck hard at her clit.

“Baby girl. Who is giving the orders tonight?” She moans, grinds against Spencer’s mouth.

“You, daddy.”

“Only me?” he asks, looking into her eyes as he thrusts his fingers into Spencer, and she shivers, bites her lip.

“Only you, daddy.”

“So what’s going to happen?” Spencer moans into her pussy, rolls his hips around for friction, and Aaron adds another finger, stretching him, breathing out slowly because he’s getting a little too excited at having them both at his complete mercy.

“I’m going to come, daddy.” She groans deeply, tugs at Spencer’s hair, and Aaron smiles. He knows it looks dirty.

“That’s right, baby. Can you come for me now? So I can fuck Spencer?”

“Yes, daddy.” She presses against Spencer, pinches her nipple, and whimpers, shudders, tries to squeeze her legs together as she comes. “Oh, fuck.” She bucks her hips a few extra times for good measure, then sags back against the pillows, her chest heaving. Spencer sighs, kisses her thigh, rubs her hips where his hands were rough. Aaron pulls out his fingers, crawls up to kiss both of his perfect partners.

“I love you both. So incredible for me, so good. Spencer,” he whispers into his ear, pushing back his hair, “are you ready to be fucked by your daddy?” He is sweaty, flushed, gorgeous, a complete mess, and he nods quickly.

“I’m ready, daddy.” Aaron kisses his soft, slack mouth.

“Good boy. Sophie, come lay down. Spencer’s going to put his cock in you so he has a place to come.” She runs her hands through her hair—she is also sweaty, flushed, wrecked, and so beautiful—and looks at him with desperation in her eyes.

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, baby. Just be still and let daddy do all the work. You can come if you want, but you don’t have to. We’re just using your pussy for clean up, baby girl.”

He loves the look in her eyes when she gives in, slides down the bed, when Spencer hovers over her, shaking, and presses inside. She wraps her arms and legs around him, holds him close, kisses him, and Aaron crowds in behind them and rolls on a condom, slicks it up, and guides himself into Spencer’s ass.

Spencer moans so loudly and deeply that Aaron feels it in his bones, and his hands fist into the sheets again, and Aaron thrusts inside, slow and steady and long, the tight heat around his cock threatening to end things before he’s ready. He drapes himself over Spencer’s back, pumps shorter, shallow, kisses his shoulders.

“Good boy for me, Spencer. Daddy feels so good inside you, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, daddy. So big and... and careful, daddy, thank you, daddy.” Aaron licks his lips, covers Spencer’s arms with his own, applying a little pressure, and fucks slow, rolling his hips, grinding against him. “Yes, that feels so good, oh, god.”

“I know, baby. Sweet, slutty boy. So hot and tight for daddy. This is daddy’s ass, isn’t it?”

“Yes, daddy’s ass,” Spencer murmurs, his hips stuttering a little, making Sophie grab his back. “Only daddy has been in this ass, and only daddy will be.” Aaron exhales hot against his skin, and he leans up, because he has to come, can’t wait anymore. He has to make it good while he lasts.

“That’s right, my sweet, shy boy,” he groans, hands on Spencer’s hips, and he fucks him fast, but not rough, not hard.

“Oh, yeah, fuck, daddy, yes,” he whines, rocking back into Aaron’s thrusts, forward into Sophie, and she whimpers beneath him. “Yes, daddy, come inside me, daddy. Need you to, want you to.”

“I’m going to come, baby, hold on for me. Almost.” He fucks a little harder, can see Spencer wants it, as he works his body fast in time with Aaron’s hips. “Slutty, needy boy, messy and dirty and desperate and perfect. I love you, sweet boy.”

“Yes, fuck, daddy, needy, dirty, desperate. I love you.” He lifts a hand, covers Aaron’s on his hip, and Aaron can feel Spencer’s whole body tighten from inside when he comes, grunting, spilling into Sophie. She sighs, pulls him close, and Aaron folds forward and comes too, pressing deep, running hands over Spencer’s shoulders and neck.

He pulls out so they can get into a more comfortable position, spoons him, wraps his arms around his body and holds him tight, kissing everywhere he can reach. Sophie presses against his front, softly kisses his lips, his cheeks, and he just breathes between them.

After Spencer has calmed down a little, Sophie slides down his body to nuzzle against one of Aaron’s hands, and he lifts it, strokes her face, presses his finger to her lips so she can suck on it. He rests his cheek on Spencer’s arm, wonders how in the fuck the universe decided he deserved this.

Sophie’s sucking slows, then stops, and it’s clear she’s fallen asleep. Spencer swallows hard, clears his throat, and tips his head back for a kiss.

“Hi there, baby. You did so perfect for me, felt so good. My good boy.” He hums, and Aaron kisses him again. “You okay? What can I do for you?”

“Um. Water, please? And then, I can help you with her in the shower. I’m sure she’ll feel gross when she wakes up.” Aaron squeezes him tighter, brushes his lips over his shoulder.

“I can wash you both up, you don’t need to help. When you submit, daddy takes care of you.” He rubs his hip, massages his ass gently. “Did you like it better than being a daddy?”

“I like both,” he rasps. “They make me feel so different, it’s hard to compare.”

“I’m happy to hear that, baby. I like when you do both, too. I’m going to get you that water, and then we’ll wake her up and shower, okay, perfect boy?”

“Yes, daddy.” Aaron nods, gets out of bed.

“Oh, and Spencer?” He turns his head, soft and sleepy and pliant, so cute. “I hope you enjoyed coming tonight, because you’re going to be disciplined tomorrow, and it might be a very long time before I let you get off again.”

He groans, and Aaron grins.

[cherryyharryy]

angst to fluff where y/n finds out she was originally just supposed to be a rebound type thing after he broke up with someone like idk something like he broke up with someone on the european leg of tour and she was supposed just be with him until he went on another leg but then he started to love her and brings her on the rest of tour with him and she finds out abt the rebound thing after the last show of tour where everyones drunk and celebrating and one person lets it slip

I tweaked it just a bit...hope that's ok:)

WC: 3.5K

****

“You look beautiful.”

I skim my nose across Harry’s cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder, and hum against stubble that wasn’t there this morning. “You’ve said that five times tonight.”

“And?” He slips around to face me.

His suit is a deep maroon, probably black if you’re far away, probably purple if you’ve had too much champagne. His chest expands when I slide my hand down.

“Love this dress.” He takes my hand off and pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my head.

“You two forget where you’re at?” Another foreign voice surrounds us, well, foreign to me.

“Fucker,” Harry says to the man. They pat each other’s backs as the guy walks away. “Tyler Johnson.”

“Oh.”

“He worked with me on the last album.”

“Okay.”

It’s like the fifteenth person that I’ve been introduced to tonight, all of whom pass by with quick hellos, inside jokes with Harry, and little interest in me. The fast paced world of the rich and famous doesn’t slow down, even for charity.

“Harry, so glad you could make it.” Another voice, another man. This one lingers, long enough to receive my name, and offer a cliche compliment about my patience to put up with this beautiful bastard on my arm.

I thank him with the smile I’ve learned to speak through. These celebrities never stop smiling. Never stop posing. Never stop.

Then he’s gone too, and Harry’s whispering yet another name in my ear, of which I’ll forget seconds later because these people ultimately mean nothing to me. They all seem to pass through each other’s lives whenever convenience allows, playing house and acting like grown ups who get the privilege of not truly growing up.

I feel like the Gucci dress Harry had tailored to my body doesn’t fit. My posture sucks. I’m too scared to eat any of the finger foods being carried on silver platters through the hall. I haven’t learned how to smile through food I don’t like or not make a mess or take small enough bites. I swear, not one glass of champagne has any lipstick on it. They’re like magic.

I look at Harry. He’s stepped away to converse with a face that I do know. He and Jeff speak animatedly, Harry’s arms gesturing to whatever story he’s telling. I step over to one of the dressed tables and place what little weight I can onto the chair, needing to cling to something. When I look back up I smile, the two of them now laughing, and probably a little too loud for this charity auction.

“Y/n...right?”

I whip around, a man I’ve seen in pictures on Harry’s phone holds out his hand.

I straighten my back and accept his greeting. “Yes.”

“Finally we meet!” He catches my confusion and chuckles. “I produced Harry’s last album.”

Something clicks in my head, and he’s suddenly more familiar. “Oh! I knew that.”

Tom Hull...Kid Harpoon I process just as he introduces his name.

“I—”

An arm slipping around my waist stunts my question, Harry tipping back a red drink with his free hand while the other squeezes my hip. “Just tell this one to leave you alone,” he jabs.

Tom rolls his eyes, patting the breast of his green suit to look for something, only to show off his middle finger.

“Can’t believe the two of you haven’t met,” Harry says.

“I know, I guess we just missed each other.” Tom nods to me. “Heard you went to quite a few shows.”

“As many as I could.”

An uneasy sting travels down my spine. I did go to many shows, practically following Harry around his entire tour...all on his dime. Lord knows the man can afford it, but I still felt weird about him dishing out thousands of dollars to add me to each plane ride.

“Well I’m happy to see you two kids together,” Tom jokes, patting Harry on his back. “I’ve told him he needs to date women who will fuck him up. That’s where the songs are.”

He saunters off like he did not just say that. No. Absolutely not.

My face burns and it hurts to turn my head, but I still manage to narrow my eyes at Harry.

“Do you want another drink?”

I wait. I give him more than enough seconds to explain what the hell that was. But he’s clueless—ignorant.

“No. I do not.”

***

I do not bother taking my heels off in the car. My plan is to storm into our hotel room the second we park. Possibly locking Harry out...haven’t decided on that part yet.

The vague chit chat he makes with the driver stirs my nerves. It shouldn’t make me angry, and it’s not so much the act as it is his demeanor. He’s too cheery right now and it’s pissing me off.

“Okay,” he grabs my attention from Los Angeles flying past my window, the partition rolling up to leave us completely alone in the back seat. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my tongue, literally. “Nothing.”

“You seemed...irritated.”

“Did I?”

“Y/n.”

I turn to face him, inhaling sharply to calm my coming words. “Why are you with me?”

His face pales, and not a muscle moves. He just stares at me until he finally blinks and starts jerking his jaw around. “What are you talkin’ about?”

I roll my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know, bothers me even more.” I sigh, fighting back tears because I am determined not to cry in front of him. “Tom said that you should date people that fuck you up.”

“O—oh. That’s all?”

I squint, curling my lip. “What do you mean, that’s all? Is that not enough for you? Because that was a lot for me to hear tonight.”

“Baby, he was just messing around.”

I don’t budge.

“Really, it’s nothin’ to think about.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup my jaw. “Promise. It’s just like when people told you that you could do better than me, or insult me to compliment you.” He shrugs. “It’s just party talk.”

I process his words, supposing he’s not wrong. He did receive quite a few insults in lieu of my praise tonight. Maybe I was just on edge because of the setting; being surrounded by the rich and famous while I struggle to pay my rent each month isn’t exactly grounds for positive thinking.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He leans over to kiss me, stroking my face as his lips skim over mine. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

***

It’s funny how your brain works. How emotions swoop in and corral your thoughts, like a salesman who pretends to care about you so they can get what they want. My mind was desperate for relief, from hearing Tom’s nervy comment, and I naively allowed Harry to take what he needed in that moment.

Something’s not quite right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.

I’ve been mulling over Harry’s words in my head all weekend, playing them on repeat, hoping they’ll start to make sense, but if anything their value keeps dropping. What worries me the most, is that I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect me or himself. I don’t know if one is any better than the other.

It’s golden hour when we pull up to the beach. I can hear the music before I even open the car door; a volleyball shoots up over the rows of bushes hiding the party, disappearing and popping back up a moment later.

I don’t really want to be here, but I also don’t want to be the girlfriend who won’t support their boyfriend.

“Ready?” Harry asks, and I nod.

The closer we walk, the clearer the music becomes. Harry’s voice takes over the private beach, and I wonder if they’re playing his entire album or just Golden on repeat.

A good bit of the people drinking and chatting I recognize form the event the other night, but there are still plenty of new faces. I take some fruity drink that was offered to me and down half of it before my feet hit sand.

And so the routine continues. I’m introduced to someone, they compliment me, laugh with Harry, congratulate him on pretty much everything he’s ever done, and then repeat with a new face. I do manage to find Sarah at one point after I’ve detached myself from Harry, and the two of us head for the water.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sarah asks once our toes are wet.

I hold my breath and count to five, finishing whatever the hell I’m drinking before I can answer her. “I’m great.”

“Harry said you weren’t doing too well after the auction?”

“Yes, Harry does a lot of talking with people when I’m not around.”

“Alright, spill it,” Sarah says.

I trace the rim of my glass, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to make sure we’re far away from the party. “It’s stupid, really, I’m just a little...I don’t know...Tom said something the other night that rubbed me the wrong way. And Harry doesn’t seem to care.”

“What did he say?”

“Just something about how Harry needs to have relationships with people who will fuck him up.”

“Ooh,” she nods, seemingly well versed in the statement. “Yeah that’s an Iggy Pop quote. Tom mentioned it in Rolling Stone when he was interviewed.” She sips her drink, eyes growing small over the rim. “It was just a cheap line of advice he gave Harry after he was torn up after his last breakup.”

“Wait, so he actually did say that before? Like before the other night?”

Sarah drifts her eyes up in thought, nodding. “Um hm. After him and Camille broke things off.” She shrugs, and gestures to the party exploding on the beach behind us. “Fine Line.”

I have no idea what I’m feeling. No clue what is coursing through my veins, but it’s not blood anymore. The corners of my jaw tingle until my face starts going numb, my breathing shallow and chest tight.

“You okay?”

“I uh, I gotta go.”

Sarah calls after me but I let my name die in the breeze as I march back to the crowd. It’s nearly dark now, and finding Harry among all his people will take forever. I try to look for him, but I’m so distraught I can’t concentrate long enough to make out faces. I give up and head back to his car, only to find it’s locked. The asphalt is warm on my legs as I lower down to the ground, careless to the dirt I’m getting on my clothes and the scratches on my skin.

I’m not in this position for long. Not long enough, at least. Harry rounds the corner of the bushes, speeding up when he sees me.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He moves to sit down beside me, but I jump up before he can.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

“Whoa! What!? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“I told you! What Tom said the other night!” I’m yelling, too loud for public, I know. But a small part of me wants someone to hear. I want to disrupt the bubble Harry lives in.

“And I told you that it was just nonsense.”

“And that’s why you’re a liar! Sarah just told me, that he said that to you after you and Camille broke up.”

“Okay...and?”

I inhale as deep as I can. It makes me dizzy, adds to my headache. “And, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? With the knowledge that the only reason you’re even with me, is because I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’ll get songs out of it?

“Y/n,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you’re taking this waaay too literally. Trust me.”

“You’re not in a position right now where I even want to trust you.”

“This has gotten completely out of control. I cannot believe you’re this upset over something so stupid.”

“Right there, Harry!” I point at him. “You keep dismissing how I feel! You don’t even care that this upsets me! That I feel like I need to reevaluate our entire relationship!”

“What is there to evaluate!? I haven’t even done anything! You’re blowing up about something that someone else said!”

“But you listened to him!”

“What,” he shrugs, “what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, Harry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” He pauses, swallowing. “Us?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, us. I can’t be with you if—if you’re just waiting around for me to ruin you emotionally.”

“You’re seriously gonna let someone else’s words do this to us? You’d break up with me because of something another person said?”

“Harry, if I break up with you it’s gonna be because of what you’ve done. I don’t care that he said it, I care that you agree to it. And quite frankly, it’s pretty insulting to Camille. You spent a part of your life with that girl, and you just capitalize off of it. I’m not gonna let you do that to me.”

“I’m not capitalizing off of anyone! What the hell am I supposed to write my songs about? I’m just supposed to not date then?”

“It’s the fact that you sought out a relationship in order to fuel your writing.”

“No, y/n, that’s not what I did.” He narrows his eyes at me, and even in the dark I can see his anger. “I sought you out because I was devastated after me and her broke up. You were only supposed to be a rebound.”

I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. The music overhead blurs into noise scraping my eardrum, my vision grows weak and foggy. He wanted to hurt me, and he did.

“I expect a thank you when you release your next album.” I spin on my heel and head towards the main road, yanking my phone from my pocket to call an uber. For the second time tonight, my name trails behind me in the wind. I can hear Harry’s steps pick up, and as fast as I walk, he still catches me.

“Y/n, please, let’s go back to the hotel. You can hate me and not talk to me, but please don’t leave.”

I ignore him, trying to set up my ride. “Where the hell are we?”

He glances at my phone, and I can tell he considers keeping the answer to himself, so he can keep me to himself. He drops his voice, much weaker than before. “Carbon Beach. Canyon road.”

Ten minutes.

“Y/n—”

“I am not interested in discussing this with you.”

“I’m so sorry. I—I was mad and was just trying to win the argument. Whichever way I could.”

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Y/n, please, honey. I don’t want to lose you.” He drags his hands down his face, keeping his palms dug into his eyes. When he lets them drop, there are tears spilling down his cheeks. “I can’t lie and say you weren’t, but yes you were a rebound for me, but that went away. Literally weeks after we started dating. I care about you so much. I wouldn’t drag you to every show and event I have if I didn’t. I’m so proud to call you mine. The last thing you are to me is—is just grounds for my writing.”

I stare out across the road. A jeep speeds by and the gush of wind it brings sends chills down my arms.

“Harry, I just...it’s a lot. You’re a lot. Your life is a lot.” I sigh and slowly turn to face him. “It feels like the significance of us being in each other’s lives are so different.”

He kicks a rock across the road, dust flying up around us. “Fuck. Y/n I’m begging—”

“They’re here.” I nod to the headlights approaching us.

“Baby, please.”

“I think I need to be alone right now.” I get in the backseat. “Enjoy your party.”

***

I text him when I’m back at the hotel, having nowhere else to go. I didn’t think my plan of leaving through, because he’ll come back here before the night’s over. But I’m hoping he’ll stay away for a bit, long enough for me to process everything at least.

Deep down I know there’s not as much to the comment as I thought. And Harry’s not that type of guy. But the lack of concern over my feelings...the fact that I was just used as a warm body while he got over Camille...that’s what hurts the most.

There’s a fine line between being sorry because you’ve been called out, and truly being sorry. How sorry can he be when he got what he wanted? Even if I’m not what he envisioned past a few quick fucks, he still comes out on top happy.

I feel like the lifestyle these people live is embedded with secret codes, all of which I’m not wired to pick up on. The money, the mistakes, the adoration... Everything is a lot, and playing catch up is nearly impossible.

I don’t get the alone time I’d wished for. There are curses and clicks of the doorknob right before Harry comes in. He stands at the entrance, staring at me on the lounge chair like he’s unsure if I’m real.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come back here.”

“Where else can I go?” I nod to his phone in his hand. “I texted you.”

“I was driving.”

I sigh, flinching when he turns the lights on. “I know you wanna talk, but I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, dropping his keys on a table to come sit beside me. “I’ll talk though.” He inhales, holding his breath for a second before forcing the air out. “I know that me saying I’m sorry means shit to you right now. And to be honest, it probably is coming from me...in a way. You’re right about everything. And whatever you’re feeling, once you figure that out, you’re valid about that too.”

“How would you feel if you were only meant to be temporary in my life? You never mentioned why you were interested in me in the beginning. And no, I never would have gone out with you had I known. I would never want to be someone’s rebound. There’s just something sneaky about that.”

His head drops into his hands, and his shoulders shake right before I hear him cry. “I know, I—I get so caught up in myself sometimes. I’m such a fucking prick.” When he looks up, his eyes are burnt red, glassy and defeated. “I don’t deserve you, and I really don’t deserve anyone.”

“Harry,” I chastise, not expecting the downward spiral he’s ventured onto.

“I swear I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I want to make you happy. I don’t want to be the one to treat you this way. Ever.”

I inhale as deep as I can, holding my breath until it hurts. “I know.” I take his hand in mine. “And I know your heart, and I know you care about me. I—” I sigh, “I’m not comfortable with...just forgetting all of this though. I can forgive you, but I think we need to take a couple steps back. I’ve gotten so swept up in your life and your world, I’m losing my own.”

He nods slowly, accepting my words with a pained face.

“I care about you too.”

He looks up for the first time, catching the last few tears with the back of his hand. “I know you do.”

I offer a small smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes fall closed, and blindly he turns to press his lips to mine. Our kiss is salty and urgent.

“What did you say to everyone when you left?”

He frowns in thought, like the memory is too far away. “Nothing. Jumped in my car and prayed this is where you’d be.”

I take his hand and pull us both to our feet. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long night. Too long.”

We’re quiet and slow as we shed our clothes and brush our teeth, slipping into bed around two a.m.. Harry doesn’t waste a second in pulling me into his warm chest, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug that has me burying my face into his neck.

We lay there, silent, but when I know I don’t have much longer before sleep overcomes me, I kiss his shoulder, whispering how much I love him before I close my eyes.

[maybebanks]

Hurting - part 4

link to part 1

link to part 2

link to part 3

jj maybank x reader

Previously: JJ and Y/n’s relationship is tested after the mental and physical difficulties of Y/n’s secret. She’s been an expert at hiding them, but now, he knows, and she has to face all her demons, and letting JJ think bruises are hickies is what she decided to do, to avoid the truth.

You didn’t need to get a job, because you were a ‘kook’ now. So what were you going to do with your summer? It had to be out of the house. And it couldn’t be with your best friends, the pogues.

You brushed the setting powder over your neck and jawline. Taking a deep breath before heading downstairs for breakfast.

You couldn’t face your mom, you were just going to grab some food and leave.

“Honey,” you heard a deep voice say.

You jumped and turned around, “um, yes sir,” you frowned, looking down at the ground.

“You’re mother took an early flight and I’m having a meeting here, so you need to stay in your room today,” your step father stated.

“W-wait, mom’s gone?” Your voice was shakey. You didn’t even get to explain the whole JJ situation.

“Yes.” He said impatiently, “look, doll, I don’t have time for you right now! My associate will be here any minute and if he sees you, we will have a problem,”

You didn’t understand, but you listened.

“Can-can I just get my bag? It’s in the front..um room,” you asked, meekly.

“Damnit you idiot!” He shouts, his fists clenching. You squinted your eyes on instinct, knowing he wants to punch you, knowing you were seconds away from pain.

The doorbell rang.

“Fuck. Get the hell out of my face,” he shoved you aggressively, then left your sight to get the door.

You stumbled, landing on the stairs, on your side. Cursing on impact.

You quickly got up, grabbed your bathing suit and ran out the door. Deciding to escape to the beach.

You put on your navy blue string bikini and quickly dove into the waves. It was weird because the last time you were here, you were with JJ.

He’s always been so sweet to you and you never knew why. Your first day on the island, when no one would talk to you, he came up to you. And being the established, well-liked person that he is, others followed.

You were very shy at first, and JJ didn’t know the real you until about a month in. But he didn’t give up, he was perfect.

You came up for air again. The salt not stinging your eyes.

Friendship. You’ve never had anything close to it until you met JJ.

But it’s too late. He’s gonna stop trying after what you’ve done, after what you’ve let him think you’ve done.

“You cheat on me?”

“W-why?”

“Answer me.”

“JJ...I think you should go,”

“Y/n.”

In your head it was the right decision. But in your heart? You’d die without him.

“Hey! Catch any good waves?!” Someone shouted from the shore.

You turned around from wading on your surf board. Waving to the boy at the shore.

A head of shaggy, long-ish brown haired boy seemed cheery. He threw off his button up and jumped into the waves.

You sighed, you were going to have to talk to this stranger. You almost didn’t have the energy.

“Why haven’t you been...around?” John B asks. You were surprisingly comfortable around him. He was your friend, you just didn’t notice at first.

“Just some...family stuff going on,” you shrugged.

“Ohh right. JJ told us!” He remembered.

“He-he what?” You stutter, afraid of what he might know.

“Yeah, he said your mom was coming home and she hasn’t in a while. That’s really all he said,” John B shrugged, flipping his hair after.

You felt like crying. Your mom wasn’t coming home, she was visiting for less than 12 hours.

“Hey...what happened to your leg?” He asked, swimming closer to you.

“Nothing, haha don’t uh..worry about me. How are..how are you?” You changed the subject.

“Well...oh shit! Did I tell you! I fucked uppp bro! I kissed Kie-“

“You did?!”

“Yeah! And she totally rejected me,” John B admitted.

“Did she like swerve? Or like push you?” You asked, curious about a normal thing for once.

“Nah, we kissed and then she pulled away, and said the no pogue on pogue macking rule. Fuckin JJ found a loophole with that,” he joked.

“A loophole?” You questioned.

“Yeah. Because you’re technically a kook,” John B shrugged.

“I guess,” you sighed.

“Hey, wanna get out of here? The waves are shit,” John B asked.

“Yeah.” You sighed, finally feeling calm for the first time in a while. Afterall it was a good distraction from JJ and everything else.

You and John B swam to shore and you threw a hoodie over your head.

“How good does the Wreck sound right now?” John B chuckled.

“So good,” you laughed, imagining shoving fries in ur mouth right now at the best restaurant in the Outer banks.

-

When you arrived at the restaurant, John B held the door open for you. He wanted to see you smile. You did, a soft curl of the lips, but it faded suddenly.

Something was wrong.

John Bs chest collided with your back, he chuckled. Because you stopped walking and blocked his path foreward.

“What’s up Y/n/n?” John B asked.

“Shut up-“ you said abruptly, John Bs eyes widened.

“Um..sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, just...don’t say my name like that,” you mumbled.

“Why? It’s your nickname right? Are you not cool with me calling you that?” John B questioned.

“No, no. I didn’t mean..just..nevermind,” you sighed. You just didn’t like it when people said your name loud in public places, you didn’t want to be recognized by certain people.

“Okayy? Anyway, let’s do that table in the back,” John B suggested.

“Okay,” you answered, keeping your head down.

He walked you to the table, and to your surprise, Kie arrived to take your orders.

“Hey guys! Is this a date? Or...” she joked. Laughing.

“Very funny Kie. Are you trying to make me lose my appetite? Poor business tactic of you ask me-“

“Hey! You asshole,” you mutter. Dipping your fingers in your water glass and spraying it at him.

John B tried to duck, but then bumped his head on the table.

You and Kie laughed loudly as he groaned in pain.

She could barely stop laughing, “can...ah I take your orders?”

“Yeah...um I’ll get um...John B what are you getting?”

“A cheese burger with no Mayo,” he told Kie.

“Idiot,” she muttered as she wrote it down.

“You want the usual? Fries and-“

“Ooh yes I’ll just have fries and cheese please,” you smiled.

“Yup, you got it. Ok I’ll be back,” she winked before leaving.

“By the way,” John B began, “I just want you to know I’d never make a move on you as long as your with JJ. I mean-Kie was joking in all-“

“John B, don’t worry about it ok?” You interrupted.

“Yeah but...I also wanted to ask you, what’s going on between you and JJ. Eveytime I mention him you get defensive,”

“What are you talking about? No I don’t,” you responded.

“Uh huh,” he said sarcastically.

“Look, the truth is, I just don’t care anymore,” you told him. You knew in your heart it wasn’t true, but it had to be. You couldn’t take back the fact that JJ thought you cheated. So you had to go with it.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” John B said.

“Whatever,” you sighed.

“Oh shit,” John B said, staring at the door.

“W-what? Is he here? Did you invite him? I swear to God,” you said in a hushed tone. You didn’t want to turn around yourself, in case you had to look him in the eye.

“No, chill. It’s..isn’t that your step dad though?” John B asked.

Your moth dropped slightly, “John B don’t say shit like that, your-“ you were about to tell him he was scaring you, but you shouldn’t admit that.

“Look behind you,”

“No I don’t want to,”

“Just look,”

You sighed, and slowly turned.

“Oh-“ you started to respond, but you practically felt your heart stop. Instantly, your breathing picked up.

“What’s going on between you and JJ? Why wouldn’t you want him here?” John B said, trying to pull your attention back to him.

You shook your head, instead of answering. You could hardly form words. Maybe it’s the fact that if your step father sees you here, there’s going to be some contact.

“Whoa relax!” John B said, placing his hand on yours.

Immediately, you pulled your hand away.

He furrowed his brows, confused and offended.

“Sorry.” you muttered.

“You wanna...leave.. I mean ... you wanna get out of here?” You suggested, afraid he would say no.

“What? Why? We didn’t even get our food!” John B exclaimed.

“I..I know. I just..don’t feel like eating anymore.”

“That’s so weird, Y/n. C’mon we can’t leave. Just suck it up for a sec,” John B said shortly. Tapping your shoulder.

“Okay,” you responded. You thought back to JJ. He never made you do stuff you don’t want to. He was just so caring to you. Not that John B wasn’t, just that JJ knew you so well.

A few minutes later, your couldn’t shake the thought that the man you feared the most was behind you. You didn’t have eyes. You didn’t have JJ. You didn’t have anything.

“John B, I don’t feel well I think I’m gonna head out,” you told him, getting up slowly.

“You sure?” He said, analyzing your.

“I um...” for some reason, blurred vision erupted, and you started feeling like you were going to faint.

You stood up slowly. But things were getting worse, and your stance was unsteady.

You gripped the edge of the table for support.

“Y/n...what’s up with you?” John B asked. Sounding annoyed.

For some reason a tear escaped from your eye, you were sorry you were annoying him. So you muttered a quick, “I’m sorry,”

John B stood up, he was now right infront of you. And then, you collapsed. John Bs arms wrapped around you and pulled you into him as you fell.

He was shocked by this. Struggling to hold you up.

No one seemed to pay much attention, but anyone in their right mind would know that they should probobly take you to the hospital. But John B, as did many of the pogues, didn’t always trust authority.

So he took you back to the Chateau, where Sarah, who took a class in Lifeguarding was considerably the doctor instead.

“What happened?!!” Sarah exclaimed as she saw John B carry you out of the van.

“She just passed out. Hey can you help me carry her?” John B grunted.

“Uh..I’ll get JJ,” she said.

“Oh fuck. Wait! I don’t know if that’s such a good idea-“ John B began but Sarah had already called him from working on the boat.

He ran over, his eyes filled with worry. He quickly took you from John B. Carrying you without a problem bridal style.

Inside, he let you down on the couch.

You were slowly coming back to consciousness.

“Put this on her forehead,” Sarah said passing a towel to JJ.

“Hey...hey Y/n. Come back to me okay? Fuck baby. Don’t do this to me alright, wake up,” JJ muttered into your ear.

Moments later, your eyes started to flutter.

To witch JJ sighed in relief, taking your hand and holding it tight in his own.

“Let’s call her parents,” Sarah suggested, grabbing Y/n’s phone.

“Sarah no. Alright? Give me her phone,” JJ demanded.

“No! If I was her my parents would want to know! It’s not normal to just faint-“

“Sarah, give me the fucking phone,” JJ persisted.

John B frowned, “hey watch it, JJ. Don’t talk to her like that bro,”

Sarah frowned, and out of spite began typing on her phone.

JJs temper only grew, he only wanted to protect you.

He grabbed Sarah’s wrists and pulled the phone from her hand.

“Hey!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Dude!” John B interjected.

JJ returned the phone to his pocket.

“Bro, I’m gonna kill you-“ John B said.

“Wait,” you said meekly, “JJ was right, okay? It would only make it worse. Just trust me,”

“But why?” Sarah said concerned.

You shook your head, signaling you couldn’t answer the question.

Sarah sighed and wished you to feel better before leaving.

John B then stepped to JJ, “you’re lucky your girlfriend is so sweet. I would’ve kicked your ass,” John B threatened.

JJ didn’t want to cause a drive between any more of the people he cared about. So he just accepted.

JJ then sat by you, despite what had happened before.

“You really scared me, Y/n.”

“Wasn’t..my intention,” you stifled out, trying to get up.

“Whoa...whoa, can you stay to get some rest? Just stay here for me,” he insisted with a hand on your chest.

“JJ...” you sighed.

“I know it’s not true. I know what you’re doing.”

“Stop. Please.” You pleaded.

“You didn’t cheat on me. Those are bruises aren’t they. They’re not hickies. They’re from him trying to choke you.” JJ explained.

“JJ get away from me. We broke up. I don’t....I don’t-“

“You don’t what? You don’t love me?! Huh! Say it Y/n. Look me in the eyes, and I leave for good,”

“I don’t! I don’t deserve you! You can’t me with me. I’m used, JJ. You deserve a girl that isn’t so-“

“Broken? Y/n, I’m just as fucked up as you. You know my dad hits me right? He beats me. And it’s wrong. And I hate him. But I can’t hate you. Ever. Not for what that sick man has done,”

At this point, you were balling. Wiping tears as soon as they fell.

“JJ...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying. I thought you would leave.”

“It doesn’t work like that, when I love you more than anything in my entire life,”

“I don’t understand,” you stuttered.

“Understand what?”

“Even after you know what he does. How could you look at me, and still love me?”

“That doesn’t change all I’ve known as soon as I met you. And if you need me to prove it to you, I will.”

-

thx for reading ❤️

@mavelfanatic @my-therapist-hates-me @rudypankowswife @harrypottersgirl @themaddies-obx taglist

[jungshookz]

🧦 stocking stuffers: yoongi’s being annoying as per usual

stocking stuffers are basically the holiday equivalent of teeny tidbits :D i just wanted to give you guys a little something to tide you over while you’re waiting for the second drabble! also yes that is a sock emoji there was no stocking emoji sUE ME 

this started off at five hundred words and quickly spiralled into two thousand words but it’s not good enough to stand alone as a proper drabble so i’m counting it as a puny stocking stuffer drabble

pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

genre; sfw for the most part but there are some suggestive themes because this is demon!yoongi after all <3 

what to expect; “ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me... it turns me on.” 

wordcount; 2.3k

                                      »»————-　🎄   ————-««

“i don’t even know why we’re decorating this stupid thing. we’re going to be throwing it out by the end of the month.” yoongi grumbles, tossing a handful of fake snow onto the tree a little too aggressively before shoving his hand back into the bag

this sucks

when he woke up this morning you told him that you guys would be spending the entire day decorating the apartment for christmas and his morning wood immediately deflated

in fact he’s pretty sure his penis might’ve shrivelled up and died at your words

it doesn’t make any sense

you’re like.,., 25% demon!

you’re supposed to hate christmas because it’s literally the day of christ, but here you are, wearing what has to be the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen in his entire life (it lights up. what kind of a sweater lights up?!) while happily hanging baubles on this poor tree that should be out in nature and definitely not in this apartment  

“oh, cut it out, you grouch.” you scowl playfully, already fully aware as to why yoongi’s so grumpy today, “decorating is fun! and our presents are going to look so pretty under the tree-”

“y/n?” jungkook pokes his head out from the kitchen and you turn to look at him, “i’m gonna need you to help out with the gingerbread house. construction isn’t going great. there’s frosting everywhere and i ate most of the m&ms. and one of the gingerbread men is missing a head because i got hungry.”

“are you seri- i asked you to do one thing, kook-” you frown, jungkook smiling sheepishly before not so subtly popping an m&m into his mouth, “get back in the kitchen! i’ll join you in a second.”

jungkook pops back into the kitchen and you let out a hopeless little sigh before slowly turning to look at yoongi 

he pauses right as he’s about to sprinkle some more snow onto the branches and narrows his eyes at you, “…why are you looking at me like that?”

“will you finish decorating the tree while i help jungkook?” you turn to look at yoongi before pushing your bottom lip out in a pleading little pout, “please?” 

“what?? no way!” yoongi scowls, immediately dropping the bag of fake snow onto the floor with a thump, “the only reason why i agreed to do this was because it’s more bearable when we do it together- i’m not decorating this tree alone, that’s just pathetic-”

“aw, c’mon-”

“i’ll just wait for you to finish with the gingerbread house and then we’ll continue with the tree-”

“but we have to follow my schedule!” you whine, grabbing your notepad off the couch before pointing at the next thing on your list, “see? 1:00 to 2:00 - decorate the tree. 2:00 to 2:30 - hang the lights out on the balcony- and it’s already 1:30, yoon-”

“for the love of-” yoongi huffs, “okay, fine! fine, i’ll- i’ll decorate the damn tree alone.” yoongi snatches the box of baubles from you but the faintest of smiles twitches at his mouth when you lean in to squish an appreciative kiss to his cheek

the thought of completely burning the tree down while you’re gone briefly flits through his mind but he squashes that thought quickly

he’ll be good for you 

he can behave!

                                     »»————-　🎄   ————-««

“don’t eat the gum drops, i’ll be right-” you step out of the kitchen and your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see yoongi floating in mid-air, carefully wrapping the christmas lights around the tree, “yoongi!” you hiss quietly, hurrying over to him before reaching up and wrapping your fingers around his ankle, “yoongi, what the hell are you doing-?!”

“i’m wrapping the damn tree in these lights and we don’t have a ladder-” yoongi wobbles a little when you give him another harsh yank and he glances down to see you looking warily at the kitchen door

heh

you’re... anxious.

he can feel wafting it in the air and it smells so good

maybe he can have a little bit of fun with this…

“so use a chair or something! yoongi, i thought we agreed that if jungkook was here that you wouldn’t do anything non-humany-!” you jump when yoongi suddenly drops the pile of lights into your arms before lying back and folding his arms behind his head

oh god

he’s not going to get down anytime soon

also the only reason why you haven’t told jungkook about the fact that yoongi is most definitely not from this world is because he would pass out from complete and utter petrification

you don’t know how he’s going to be able to handle a spawn of satan when the man is scared of fruit flies!!!!

you’re planning to keep everything a secret until the day you die

(you’re also hoping that the day you pop one of yoongi’s babies out that it doesn’t come out with tiny red horns on its head because you feel like jungkook wouldn’t take that very lightly)

“down. now!” you snap, bending down to set the lights down on the ground so you can go and follow yoongi, “i’m serious, yoongi!” 

“oh, relax.” yoongi sighs, “he’s in the kitchen, we’re in the living room…” you frown disapprovingly when he tilts his head back so that his face is right in front of yours before flashing you a grin, “now, why don’t you wipe that frown off your face and give me a kiss?” he purses his lips obnoxiously and squawks when you shovE your face into his hand

hey!

rude!!

“i’m not going to give you anything until you get down-”

“aw, but decorating the apartment would be so much easier if you just let me do my thing!” yoongi pushes himself all the way up so that he’s next to the ceiling fan, “i can even do some much needed dusting while i’m up here!”

“min yoongi, if you don’t get down right now-” you hop up onto the couch and reach up to grab his foot onLY for yoongi to pull his legs up and cross them, “you know exactly what you’re doing, you sadistic freak-”

“ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me,” yoongi wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling to himself when you start hopping up and down to try to get closer to him, “it turns me on.”

“that means nothing to me because you get turned on by everything-” you grumble, your fingers barely brushing over his ankle as you keep trying to grab him, “like that one time you were watching me eat ice cream-”

“uhhhh, excuse me-” yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “there was white cream dripping down your chin. obviously i got turned on-”

“hey, if you come down now, i promise to do that thing that you said you wanted to do…” you offer, looking up at yoongi with wide eyes before clasping your hands together, “c’mon… isn’t that a good deal?”

yoongi shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at you, “nice try, you scammer. i’m not falling for that again-”

your shoulders immediately drop and you watch helplessly as he floats over so that he’s near the kitchen door

you really wished that inheriting some of yoongi’s aura gave you the power to float as well

all it gave you was the ability to sometimes make your eyes go black

suRE your stamina in bed has improved significantly and you can keep your engine running from sunset to sunrise but that’s not as cool as FLOATING in mid-air

“do not.” you shoot yoongi a glare when he makes a motion to open the kitchen door

“what if i…” yoongi grins, pretending to knock against the door, “oh, look at your face! you don’t like that, do you? you poor, helpless little thing...” he coos, rolling over onto his back with a laugh

oh god

you haTE THIS

“you know i-” your heart practically drops out of your ass when the door suddenly swinGs open and jungkook steps out with frosting all over his hands

“okay, i know you said not to touch anything, but one of the walls were starting to droop so i thought i’d reinforce it with a little more frosting, buT i squeezed too hard and the bag exploded-”

you swallow thickly when yoongi lowers himself a little all while maintaining strong eye contact with you, propping his chin up on his palm before the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin

you ball your hands into tight fists when yoongi blinks and his pupils turn into thin red slits

great! now his creepy demon eyes are out!

okay

you know what?

it’s fine

relax!

you know he’s taunting you on purpose but it’s not like he’s actually going to do anything-

“DON’T-!” you jump off the couch when yoongi wiggles his fingers directly above jungkook’s head, a couple tendrils of his hair starting to float upwards

“okay, jeez!” jungkook raises both hands in defence before scoffing lightly, “i said i’d offer to help clean up but since you obviously don’t want my help then maybe you can get yoongi to help-“ jungkook pauses, glancing over by the tree, “hey, where’d he go? i heard his voice like a second before i came out-”

“he’s dead!” you blurt out, jungkook’s eyes widening immediately

(improvisation has never been one of your strong suits)

yoongi lies down on his back before crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes, all while floating mere inches above jungkook’s head 

“i mean… he’s… dead-finitely in the washroom.” you correct yourself, trying to hide the complete and utter angeR on your face when yoongi peels open one eye before turning his head and blowing a silent kiss at you, “because he… had to pee. like any other normal human being does when their bladder is full.” 

“that was a very... non-human being way to answer a question.” jungkook snorts, “what’s wrong with you?”

“i just... don’t want you to get your grubby frosting hands anywhere!” you clear your throat, letting out a sheepish chuckle before rushing over to jungkook, “why don’t you start cleaning up and i’ll join you in a sec?”

“but my hands are still covered in frosting-”

“uh-huh, sounds good!” you slap your hands down on jungkook’s shoulders before spinning him around and practically shoVing him back into the kitchen

you close the door before looking up so you can grab yoongi by the collar and pull him-  

?

yoongi is… no longer there. 

the christmas lights on the tree flicker before buzzing out 

okay

so he wants to play games, does he?

“yoongi?” you spin around quickly before walking forwards cautiously, carefully inspecting every inch of the room for any sign of your nightmare of a boyfriend

you jump in surprise when a bauble suddenly falls off the tree and bounces on the floor before rolling over to your feet 

“you think you’re so funny, don’t you?” you mumble, bending down to pick it up before gently placing it down on the coffee table 

i’m fucking hilarious, baby. i like to think that’s part of the reason as to why you love me so much. 

“what the-!” you jolt at the sound of yoongi’s voice suddenly echoing in your head 

the last time he was in your head like this was when you summoned him for the first time which was definitely a while ago 

you forgot how weird it was to hear his voice inside your head

“i certainly don’t love you right now, i can say that for sure.” you grumble, “it’s safe to say that i actually hate you right now-” 

you look really sexy when you’re mad at me. why don’t you meet me in the bathroom for a quickie? jungkook will never know. i’ll even cover your mouth with my hand so he won’t hear anything.

you look over quickly when the door to the guest bathroom suddenly creaks open 

ahA 

“yeah, i’ll meet you in the bathroom... to kick your ass-” you storm over, kicking the door open only to see that there’s no one in there, “and then when i’m done kicking your ass, i’m gonna kick your ass again-”

ooh, are we finally experimenting with pain now? i can definitely get into that. i can use your bobby pins as makeshift nipple clamps. 

“you are infuriating!” you snap, placing your hands on your hips and looking up at the ceiling 

you know that being playful is just part of yoongi’s nature but good GOD 

sometimes you just want to strangle him

and not in the kinky way 

at this point it looks like you’re going to have to pull out what might be the most predictable trick in your book but you’re desperate here

you need to sort this out before jungkook comes out to see you talking to yourself like a crazy person 

yeah, that’s right. keep thinking about how annoying i am and how much that pisses you off. angry sex is super hot. 

“oh yeah?” you stroll towards the middle of the living room, taking your time to do so, “you think so?” 

hell yeah. i want you to be on top, too. i love the view.  

“i’ll do... whatever you want me to do...” you trail off, eyes flickering around the room for any sign of movement, “but if you don’t come out in the next five seconds, it’s just going to be you and your hand for the next five days- oh-!” 

it’s only a second later that you’re suddenly being pummelled into from behind

you definitely would’ve fallen face first onto the floor if it wasn’t for yoongi wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “finally! there you are-” 

“depriving me of sex during the holidays??” yoongi whines, digging his fingers into your waist, “now look who’s being the asshole-”

see??

oldest trick in the book but it still works like a charm :’) 

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

[remsmoonlight]

— title : theatre square

— word count : 2.2k words

— pairing : daigo dojima x reader

— summary : nothing but a nice day spent with Daigo in theatre square .. also Daigo still hates the fact he still sucks at the ufo catcher

— warnings : nothing but a few curses here and there

               ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

An unending chatter of noise that bleeds into each other from the various conversations of people going about their daily lives as they are captivated by their conversations through their mobile phones or the shopping trip they are using as a way to catch up with their friends to those just on their lunch breaks from their jobs — all do not take in that which surrounds them as you do, your eyes jumping from person to person. While you wait, you find yourself making a story up for each of them, using the game from your childhood to entertain yourself until your date arrives.

As the minutes pass your excitement by, the bright blue of Kamurocho dulls as does your enthusiasm. Time aches by every time you bring your wrist up to check the time on your watch, not a message to say they’d be late. Nothing. A heavy rush of air takes the plunge out of your lungs and into the air, with dejection and gloom the bricks that build its body. You wonder why a person would ask you out only to leave you without even a whisper to communicate their lack of interest despite being the one whose idea it was. People are confusing.

“ What are you doing here by yourself? “

Your view is interrupted as you turn to the recognisable voice behind your shoulder, a forced grin is plastered onto your features — hope courses through your veins that it’s not blindingly obvious that you’re drenched from the stormy clouds of misery above you.

“ Daigo? “ You ask as surprise lights up your eyes as you survey the man. “ It’s been a while. “

Your friendship with him had occurred by accident. There’s not a day that passes in the town where there’s not a poor soul being harassed on the street for some odd reason or another, it’s just you’d never thought that you would be in that very position. Often, you would walk the streets of the neon metropolis making yourself as small and as insignificant as possible.. However on that day your lone bubble had been burst completely. One moment you’d been blissfully content in your own comfort zone as you dipped and weaved in the crowded streets and the next you’d found yourself surrounded by a swarm of drunks.

Had the universe sensed your predicament, the unpleasant experience lasted no longer than a wore on fleetingly as your lips whispered its silent gratitude. They’d scattered once an order to cease had been uttered by Daigo, as if they’d never been there in the first place, not even a shadow in their place. Apologies had been issued and usually you’d not even stayed long enough to accept them but his words were as remorseful as his eyes were true.

“ Yeah, I had something to deal with. “ He responds, digging his hands into his pockets.

“ It didn’t happen to involve this town being under siege, did it? “ You question him, a brow lifts up knowingly as your expression shifts.

His past had been no secret, you made no move to judge — his actions spoke louder than any riotous melody should weave the ability to. As you stared down at the scene from your apartment high above the glowing lights of the town, all you could see was a maze of smoke littering various areas you know well, especially as you’d walked their path that very morning. Terror prevented you from leaving, the unknown of what could occur should you walk that path played into your fear with an unyielding grip on your body.

“ These past few weeks have been something. “ He swallows lightly, his circumstances have certainly altered in the passing days. “ You haven’t answered my question. “

“ I was waiting for someone.. “ You shrug with a mousy chuckle, preferring to not let on how disappointed you feel. “ I don’t think that’s happening now. “

“ Who would stand you up like that? “

It would be a falsehood to say that he’d never imagined a closer relationship between the two of you the more he laid eyes upon your form. Noting mentally how you would persistently shine brighter than venus yet everyone who interacts with you would gravitate towards you as if you took on the form of Jupiter and they became an additional moon to orbit your infectious laughter. No sooner than he’d met you, he fell under the spell that many who interacted with you had — becoming one.

“ Well, we’re not all too close. I’m not bothered about it really. “ You lie, your words to anyone else would have gone amiss, but he’d picked up the soft falter in your voice.

“ Let’s go. “

Your gaze follows his retreating form, your body still glued to the spot it has occupied on the bench. Had you anything to say your mouth would be opening and closing like a fish, it’s not long until you manage to snap yourself out of the stupor he’d led you into and you’re both now standing outside the Club Sega arcade. A mist of uncertainty begins to fog slowly as the wheels turn in your mind, you’d only ever seen him settled into establishments where alcohol was served. Just what has he been through recently?

Chords of a catalog of sources flow through your hearing as your sight scans the area, electronic notes from the games move in rhythm with the joy those emit from the entertainment they gain from the amusements to the despair others make vocal as they lose a battle or have run their turns out on the UFO catcher. Fingers slip into your as you feel yourself tugged into the direction of a game with large seats, already knowing the game you know you’re terrible.

“ Why not another game? I’m horrible at this. “ You complain as you stare at the intimidating structure of the game.

“ It makes it easier to beat you then. “ He chuckles, a spark softly swaying in his eyes as he turns his attention to you.

“ You’re not being fair, Daigo. “

“ The aim is to win, you’re just going to have to try harder to beat me. “

You do as he says. It takes a colossal effort to direct your mind to organise itself in order to give yourself a fighting chance at winning, and it does work — to an extent. A thread of tame curses tumble unceremoniously from your lips as your character is knocked out once more, and the distractions from the male finding humour in your disaster beside you does not help your cause. Your eyes roll as the game ends once more, with you failing to get a win over Daigo, there’s no need to turn to face him for the smugness radiates off of him in waves.

“ See? I’m awful! “ You whine as your shoulders slump in defeat.

“ Let me make it up to you.. “ Daigo speaks with a comforting tone, no longer relishing in his victory. “ I’ll get you one of those toys from the UFO catchers. What one do you want? “

Your lips twist and turn as your teeth sink into the flesh to bite on them in contemplation as you eye up the prizes from your position, the lengthy distance doing nothing to hinder you as the sight of a pillow pups toy stands out confined to its glass prison. The golden retriever is too irresistible to the childishness within you as your eyes narrow as you reluctantly share your desire for the toy with him.

“ Make sure it’s the golden retriever one. “

“ Yeah, I got it. “

“ I hope you do. “ You comment in a steady tone, a palm leaning on the pane.

The music begins and you scrutinise the scene before you with an eager eye as the metallic claw first moves left. Determination chisels itself into his features as his brows lower in a physical representation of his focus. To win the plush toy would be the most simplest effort in the world yet it would be the first step in treating you how he should have been treated at the start. Truthfully, he’d wanted nothing to do with forging bonds that could be so easily disintegrated, however he could never build up the strength to tear himself away from you. Instead of feeling drained from the human interaction, he’d leave your encounters revitalised.

A groan leaves the both of you as the first attempt leaves all of the toys still confined to their places, the one you specifically want at the back firmly in the middle. A tough spot, you remark.

“ Fuck. “

Giggling to yourself, your teeth shine brighter than any star as they are on full display from the action as the frustration of the man is surprisingly amusing to you. Again, the claw had found itself short of where it should be, and the last chance of retrieving the toy desired so much is shown clearly on the metallic panel.

“ Let me, Daigo. “ You comment, pushing him to the side with a weak force. Rolling your shoulders dramatically, you grab the controls of the game. A breath is held as the claw makes its way left, the toy stands out temptingly from its position. I have to get this, it’s so cute! You do not listen to the prompt to let it descend from Daigo just yet, allowing it to inch its way further back ever so lightly. Your eyes are transfixed as you watch the toy is clutched in a clumsy hold, your heart speeds up at the sight of the lessening grip with each jagged movement that leaves the toy released earlier than it should.

A relieved sigh is released as it falls through the empty space at the last minute, just managing to pass through with seconds to spare.

“ I’m still shit at this. “

“ So you know how it feels now? “ You ask him with a smirk, interlocking your arm with his as you reflect on the surprisingly good time you have had with him. “ Ooh, let’s go to Café Alps, I fancy something sweet. “

The proximity between you both is small, with both hands secured firmly in his pockets Daigo enjoys the basic experience. A buzz of energy bubbles between the two of you as you converse interactively, you can’t help but notice a level of tension has been removed from his shoulders, the man next to you appearing a little more relaxed. The walk is short to the café, you can’t help but continue to stare at the bright displays of the stores as you pass by as if you’re witnessing them for the first time. Life is certainly vivid and lively in Kamurocho.

You turn your attention away from Daigo ordering to the life outside from your spot on the cushioned wall couch. It doesn’t go unnoticed that darkness has overtaken the skyline completely, even with the glistening neon lights the stars fight to make themselves seen.

“ Thank you, Daigo. “ You begin, a leading inflection heavy on your words as you sip slowly on the hot liquid. “ I have to ask though, what’s this all for? “

“ Does there have to be a reason? “ He deflects as you cock your head to the side in response.

“ You’re you. There’s always a reason to everything you do, I know you that well at least. “ You respond, before placing a piece of the chocolate parfait. A short wiggle of your shoulders at the enjoyment of the sweet treat lends some amusement to Daigo before an air of sobriety returns to his outward expression.

“ I haven’t been the best to you. “

“ Dai — “

“ Please, let me finish. “ He interrupts suddenly, eye contact unwavering as he continues to study your form. “ I had you as a friend but even then I would hold you at arms length more often than not. I’m surprised you’ve put up with me. “

“ I’m not going to say you’ve not been difficult.. But you don’t see what I do. “ You comfort, there had been days where he’d been more insufferable than a child, but you know humans are more than one dimensional creatures.

A culture of existing in a positive bubble perpetually is no way to live, for it denies you the chance to feel the emotions that slash your soul deeply. Is it easier to think it would be easier to live if you only experience happiness? Perhaps. But never does the find feel clearer after releasing the negativity that darkens your walls.

“ Huh? “

“ You’ve been through a lot, it’s not excusable to be an ass but it’s understandable. “ You shrug with little effort, shaking your head nonchalantly. “ Besides, you haven’t been as bad as you think. You’re human, you have your off days. We all do. “

“ Still, I don’t want to be an ass to you. “ He confides, moving his hand to envelope yours. There’s a surging warmth that the pair of you notice simultaneously threads between fingertips more seamlessly than when ink glides onto paper with the grace of a bird that soars through the bright blue sky.

He’d lived long enough in a world built of paper, using it as a means to escape the reality the world so harshly has built into it.

“ Then don’t. “