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kingkatsuki · 3 years

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Deception | Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

This is a reupload from my other Tumblr account!

This is my contribution for The Sewers Cheese-on’s greetings collab. Thank you so much to @rat-suki for allowing me to be apart of it! Please check out all the other talented authors here.

The kink that I rolled in the wheel was Blackmail so of course I had to write some pervy Kirishima! I hope you guys enjoy it!

A special thank you to @phasmwrites, @burnedbyshoto, @katsukikitten and @queensynderella for hyping me up about this fic.

Please read the warnings and if it’s not for you, don’t read!💕

Summary: Kirishima knows you don’t want him, you want Bakugou. But he’s determined to take you anyway.

Warnings: 18+, blackmail, extortion, catfishing, dub-con/non-con.

Word Count: 9.3k.

Christmas was always your least favourite time of year, a constant reminder of just how alone you really were. Adverts on the television showing those cookie cutter families enjoying a Christmas around the dinner table, signs in shop windows advertising the perfect gifts to give to loved ones. Those embarrassingly cliche couples outfits and gifts that you looked at in disgust but secretly you wished you had someone to wear those with. Coming home to an empty apartment every night was lonely, but it felt even worse when the festive season rolled around.

You thought this would be the first time in years that you’d have someone to spend Christmas with, finally a decent boyfriend who seemed to dote on you. Someone who would wear those cheesy Christmas sweaters with you, take cute festive selfies and sit down to eat a huge dinner with, but even that wasn’t meant to be.

What kind of fucking asshole breaks up with someone at Christmas time?

You slammed a bottle of wine down on your kitchen counter, grabbing a glass from the cabinet as you filled it to the brim. There was probably no point decanting it as you could’ve just drank from the bottle with the amount swirling in the glass, but it made you feel better. Taking a large swig as you busied yourself by putting your shopping away, debating on wherher to open the tub of ice cream you’d purchased or not as you prepared for another lonely Yuletide.

Climbing under your large duvet you snuggled against your pillows, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone as you looked at the random photographs people had uploaded to Instagram. It was full of friends and family celebrating the holidays, photos of food and even pets dressed up in festive gear. You sighed as you liked some of your friends posts, more out of obligation than actual interest in them. You wanted what they had, and instead you were at home alone and bitter. Reaching up to grab your wine glass you noticed it was empty and rather than fill it back up you decided to swig from the bottle, staying in your reclined position as you held it to your lips. Your fingers stilling on your phone screen as you came across one new post from your favourite Pro-Hero Dynamight.

“@OfficialDynamight Happy Holidays!🎄”

The caption was basic but what surprised you the most wasn’t the fact that it seemed so nice compared to his other posts, it was the fact that he didn’t sign himself off with his usual explosion emoji. Your observation is soon forgotten as you took in the picture that he’d uploaded. A photograph of Dynamight in front of a huge, glistening Christmas tree. A black turtleneck sweater tucked into a grey pair of slacks, one of his hands inside his pocket as he gave a sultry smile towards the camera.

He looked so good. Your fingers already shakily double tapping the screen as you pinched the glass to try and zoom in, assessing his face first. The signature smirk visible as his vermilion eyes felt like they were staring directly at you. Your heart fluttering as you followed the curve of his neck, mapping out his muscular body, even through the tight sweater. Your heartbeat increased as your eyes met his crotch, trying to imagine exactly what it was he was hiding underneath his jeans. Liquid courage fuelling your bravery as you typed a comment underneath the image, telling him exactly what you thought of the picture as you added some suggestive emojis and a heart, pressing send. Immediately going back up to look at the picture again.

He really was perfect.

Unsure whether it was the fact that it was late at night, you felt lonely at Christmas or the half a bottle of wine you’d drank you found yourself clicking onto his profile, moving to send him a private message as you allowed your fingers to type quickly across the glass. Thankful for your phone picking up your spelling mistakes as you let Dynamight know just how attractive you found him in his most recent post.

Biting your lower lip as you tried to decide whether to send a selfie alongside the message or not. He must receive hundreds, if not thousands of messages a day from desperate fans trying to talk to him. Wondering if he’d ever actually replied to any of them before, the thought making you jealous even though there wasn’t really anything to be jealous over. Deciding that you’d send him a selfie in the hopes it might make your message stand out as you angled the phone above yourself, almost dropping it at first as you tried to get as much of you in as possible. Giving the camera a sultry smirk as you made sure the Dynamight shirt you were wearing was visible. His hero name proudly etched across your breasts as the hem stopped at your thighs, barely visible but just about in shot as you snapped the picture. Squinting to assess it before deciding to take a couple more, trying to look the best you could as you picked your favourite. Sending it in the private message to him as you immediately locked your phone. It was probably wishful thinking on your part that you believed he might actually reply, your courage slowly dissipated as the realisation dawned on you that you’d just sent your favourite Pro-Hero a drunken admission of your love. Covering your face in embarrassment as you wished you could delete it, even unlocking your phone to see if Instagram had that option.

What surprised you the most when you opened the direct message up was the three dots at the bottom of the screen showing him typing. The Dynamight was replying to your message. Your heart pounding in your chest as you grasped your phone tightly in your hands as you waited with baited breath for his response.

“Hey, beautiful. I didn’t expect to get a message like this tonight.”

You paused as you reread the reply. What did he mean by that? Was he judging you for sliding into his direct messages at such a late hour, trying your luck as you attached the selfie. Your fingers positioned against the screen to type out a response.

“I’m just a huge fan, Dynamight.”

You hit send, feeling giddy at the fact you’d gotten a response. The amount of direct messages he must receive daily and he replied to yours.

“I can tell. You look so good in my shirt, babe.”

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest at the words, fuelling your ego tenfold as you watched him continue to type, already eager to receive the next message from him.

“But I bet you’d look even better without it. Got any more pictures? You can’t be too careful these days”

You knew he probably had plenty of women soliciting him via direct messages who weren’t who they claimed to be, you couldn’t fault him for being cautious. His compliments fuelling you to send him another selfie. This time you tugged your shirt up to the swell of your breasts, stopping just below your nipples, your darkened aerolas barely visible in the photograph as you snapped another.

“Something like this, Dynamight? ;)” You watched as the message was read almost instantly, wondering whether he was sitting waiting for your replies as he began typing back to you once more.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” The compliment had you beaming, your heart thumping in your chest as you re-read his reply, squeezing your phone tightly as you noticed he kept typing.

“Are you trying to turn me on? Because it’s working.”

Did The Dynamight just compliment you like that? Pride swelling in your chest as you felt beautiful and powerful. His compliments boosted your confidence even more as you found yourself typing back to him.

“Do you have any pictures for me, Dynamight? ;)”

Hoping that he’d understand the implication as you waited with bated breath for his reply.

“Not enough pictures of me on my Instagram for you, Princess?”

“Please, just one?” You tried, hoping that he’d be willing to repay the favour. Suddenly your phone illuminated with a selfie that you hadn’t seen him post on his page before. His phone held up to a large gym mirror, equipment in the background as the flash partially concealed his face. You noticed the familiar hair of Red Riot in the background, held back with a black bandana as he grinned at his reflection, shirtless as his chest glistened in the light. Your eyes immediately moving to stare at your favourite Pro-Hero as you soon forget Red Riot was even in the photograph. Just about able to make out a smirk on his features as he posed for the camera. Grey sweatpants slung pow on his hips, the hem of his Calvin Klein boxer shorts visible as he showcased his impressive Adonis belt. A thin blond happy trail leading along his lower abdomen and dipping into the hem of his pants.

Your fingers instantly pressing down on the photograph to save it, feeling your clit throb at the sight of the man in front of you, he was just so perfect. But there was no way he’d taken that photograph right now for you, it was probably an old one he’d already saved in his phone. You appreciated it, a lot, but you wanted a special photograph. One that he’d taken just for you.

“Can’t you take a picture for me right now, Dynamight? Show me how you look now ;)”

You teased, eagerly awaiting his response. The message was once again read instantly but his response took longer this time. The three dots appeared that he was replying before they disappeared again. You wondered whether he would even send you one right now, not that you’d stop talking to him if he didn’t. You weren’t about to waste this opportunity.

It took him so long to reply that you’d started to doubt that he would, almost giving up hope that he would. Worried that you’d scared him off by asking too much of him and snuggling into your duvet to fall asleep and try and get over the embarrassment of your favourite Pro-Hero ghosting you. But when the picture finally came through, it was more than worth the wait.

“Is this what you wanted, naughty girl?”

The first thing you noticed from the picture that he sent you was it was dark. He was obviously laying in bed but all you could make out was the bulge in his sweats. The same grey colour that he’d been wearing in the gym shot he’d sent. Your eyes immediately gravitated to his crotch as you tried to work out just how big he was, already wishing you could see what was underneath.

“Is that all I get?”

You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, and you definitely didn’t want him to stop talking to you but you were desperate for more. How often would an opportunity like this come along? Your message went unanswered for a while again as you bit your lip nervously. Debating whether you should send another message telling him not to bother, you didn’t want him to stop talking to you.

“You gotta show me more first, Princess”

You could almost hear the teasing tone in his husky voice, your eyes fluttering shut as you imagined him above you uttering those same words down to you. Your thighs rubbing together to try and create some much needed friction as you thought about what to send him next. Taking a deep breath as you pulled your top up over the curve of your breasts, pushing your arms together to try and make them look more appealing as you angled your phone above you to try and get your face, chest and panties in shot. Giving a sultry smile into the camera as you snapped a few pictures. Instantly finding fault with every single one you took, you wanted to look perfect for him.

“You haven’t gone all shy on me now have you, babe?”

His message flashed as a banner on the top of your screen as you decided to just pick the best picture out of the ones you’d taken and sent it across to him.

“God, look at you. So fucking pretty aren’t you?”

His response made you keen as you felt your cheeks heat up, drinking in his praises as you tried to ignore the fact that you were now sending lewd photographs to a stranger. But he wasn’t a stranger was he? Not really. You knew so much about him, always following the news about your favourite Pro-Hero. Your room is adorned with many pieces of his merchandise. Hell, you were wearing one of his shirts right now. You couldn’t have imagined something like this happening in real life, it was something that you’d only fantasised about.

“Do I get another pic of you now, Dynamight?”

You hoped the picture you’d sent was enough to get another picture from him, he seemed to like it enough from the praise he’d given before.

“So greedy.”

Your jaw dropped open at the picture he sent, a large palm wrapped around a thick, veiny cock. Your eyes immediately moving towards the engorged reddened head as you noticed a bead of pre-cum oozing from the tip. Licking your lower lip at the sight as you saw how thick he was from how his hand looked wrapped around it. You were surprised to see a dark scar on his hand near his thumb, trying to think back to the various Dynamight promos you’d watched recently. You’d never noticed a scar on his hand there before, maybe it was new? It looked like he’d had it for quite some time though so it was unusual for you to see. Making a mental note of it so you knew for the future that he had a scar there. His legs were spread against the bed, almost invitingly as you imagined yourself between them, lapping at his cock as he held the back of your head, already feeling yourself flushed at the sight. Rubbing your thighs together to try and create some much needed friction as you saved the image.

“Was that good enough for you?”

You whimpered at his words, pressing your fingers down against your clit through your sheer panties, feeling just how wet you’d become from that image alone. Your slick dampening the material as you ground your hips against your touch.

“Forgetting about me already?”

He text again as you realised you’d forgotten to respond to him, your eyes still focused on the picture he’d sent you, imagining how he’d feel buried deep inside you.

“Bet you’re touching yourself aren’t you? Naughty girl.”

You bit back a moan as your fingers slipped underneath your panties, stroking your slick folds as you remained focused on his words, teasingly circling your tight entrance as you dipped the tip of your middle finger inside yourself.

“Yes.”

You typed out with your hand holding your phone, not bothering to elaborate as you pressed the palm of your hand against your clit, grinding yourself against it as you slide your finger deeper inside yourself with a gasp.

“Fuck baby, you have to let me see.”

You held your phone in shaking fingers as you angled it towards your cunt, your fingertips curling underneath the crotch to tug the fabric to the side, snapping a photograph of your glistening folds as you sent it to him.

“Fuck.”

“Bet you wish I was there so I could play with that pussy instead, yeah?”

You let out a shameless moan at the thought, finding it difficult to reply back to him as your hand clutched your phone. Circling your clit once more as you languidly worked yourself towards your climax.

“Such a pretty pussy.”

His praise made you keen as you felt your cunt clench, desperately wishing he was here right now.

“You better not cum, Baby.”

You mewled when you read his words, your body ached and you were so close to your release. Your toes curling in the telltale signs that you were about to come undone.

“Don’t you dare.”

He obviously noticed your lack of reply and correctly assumed the reason why.

“Why?”

You trembled, reluctantly pulling your fingers away from your sex, but the dominant tone to his messages made you even more eager.

“Gotta save that for when we meet, Princess.”

Wait. What?

“What?”

“You mean you don’t want to meet me? :(“

Your eyes immediately went to the sad face emoji. Dynamight never used emoticons, apart from his signature explosion emoji. You must be seeing a different, more personal side to him.

“I want to meet you more than anything, Dynamight.”

“So let’s do it?”

This was so unlike you, but you couldn’t believe your favourite Pro-Hero wanted to meet you. Excitement bubbling inside you as you couldn’t believe he was trying to arrange a meeting with you as another text from him came through.

“Tomorrow is probably no good because it’s Christmas-”

You didn’t want to make yourself seem so pathetic for having no plans at Christmas, but you couldn’t deny the fact that your schedule was empty. Fully intent on spending the day alone.

“I’m spending Christmas alone.”

You typed out.

“You’re spending Christmas alone?”

This was it; he’d probably judge you for having no friends or family available to spend the days with. Before you could reply he’d already typed another response.

“I can’t have such a pretty girl spending Christmas all alone. Spend it with me?”

“Christmas with you?”

Wait? He wants to meet up?

“That’s what I said, come to my place. We can spend it together.”

Your heartbeat increased, he wanted to spend Christmas with you? You’d barely started speaking to him, even if you had exchanged hundreds of messages since you began. It seemed like such a far fetched offer, he surely had much better things to do than spend his Christmas with you. But this was Dynamight, your favourite Pro-Hero. There was no way you could say no to him, and what did you have to lose? Another Christmas all alone?

“Okay.”

“I’ll text you the address.”

Your screen flashed with his address, putting it into google maps it looked like an average sized apartment. Not the life of luxury you assumed he was living. It just looked comfortable.

“Can I ask you a question, Dynamight?”

“Anything, Baby.”

“How many people have you done this with?”

You’d tried desperately to ignore the doubt in the back of your mind, the voice telling you that you weren’t special. You weren’t the only one. That he was saying the same things to other women, using them for the same thing he was doing to you currently. Trying not to think about the amount of pictures he may have stored in his phone at this moment from other naive people.

“What do you mean?”

“How many people have you spoken to like this in DMs? Are you talking to any now?”

“Why would I need to talk to anyone else when I have you, beautiful? You’re all I need”

Biting your lip you looked down at his contact inside your phone, working up the courage to press the green call button. Listening to it ring as your throat felt dry, waiting in anticipation but it rang out, your call rejected as his voicemail sounded in the background.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Princess”

He text instead, so it was clear he had just ignored your call.

“Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You were actually going to meet Dynamight.

Your smile faltered as you noticed it wasn’t Dynamight that answered the door, you’d been hoping that he would invite you in and scoop you into his arms but instead it was another famous hero you recognised.

“Red Riot?” You felt your cheeks heat up from how he looked at you, his crimson eyes assessing your body as he stepped to the side, his arm motioning to invite you inside as he closed the door behind you, “I was expecting-,”

“Bakugou. I mean, Dynamight.” He smiled at you warmly, watching as you shuffled nervously in the hall, “I know, he’s working late so he asked me to meet you here. He’s real sorry-”

You felt your heart drop at the realisation. Maybe he’d had second thoughts and had sent his friend to the door in his place to get rid of you. Ensuring he wouldn’t have to see you or deal with you, the thought making your stomach churn uncomfortably as you shuffled by the door.

“Are you okay?” Caring, red eyes glanced down at you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Y-yeah, ‘m okay.”

“Let’s get you a drink while we wait for Bakugou to get back, yeah?” You nodded in agreement gently as you followed him towards the kitchen, your eyes taking in the small, clean apartment. It was an open plan design, the kitchen and the living room all one big room as you took a seat on one of the island chairs on the side of the living area.

Kirishima opened the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water as he handed one to you. Grateful for the cool liquid to try and hydrate your dry throat as you held the bottle to your lips. Kirishima lounging against the table as his red eyes watched you intensely.

“So Red Riot-”

“Eijirou.” He stopped you, “Call me Eijirou.”

“Eijirou.” You corrected yourself, watching the way his nostrils flared at the sound of his name leaving your lips, “I saw your fight on TV yesterday. Saving all those people, you were amazing.”

Although you’d been expecting to see Bakugou when you knocked on the door, you couldn’t deny you were excited to see Red Riot.

“Aww, you saw that?” He gave you a sharp-toothed grin, his large palm coming to rest over yours against the table, “It was nothing.”

Kirishima subtly flexed his muscles in pride, hearing your praises had his cock throbbing underneath his grey sweatpants. You were even more radiant in the flesh than in the pictures you’d sent him.

“The way you used your quirk to stop that villain was incredible.”

“You liked that, yeah?” You had no idea how much you were fuelling his ego at this moment, his eyes focused on you as he leaned closer.

“Yeah, you were amazing.”

“I was amazing, huh?” He smiled with glee as he listened to you praise him, “I got offered the front page of Hero Weekly for that, you know.”

“Wow, that’s so cool Red- Eijirou. You’re gonna look so good!”

“I’m gonna look amazing?” He teased, wanting to hear you repeat yourself. The praise running through his veins and straight to his cock as he felt himself harden from your acclaim.

“Yeah for sure. I remember the last cover you did for them with Dynamight. You both looked so hot.” You swooned.

“I looked hot, did I?” Kirishima found himself leaning closer to you, his hand still on top of your own as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in surprise, immediately pulling away from him.

“R-Red- Eijirou- what are you doing?” You were confused, you were here for Bakugou, why was he coming onto you?

“Don’t be like that, Babe. S’okay.” He tightened his grip on your hands to prevent you from pulling back as he kissed your pursed lips.

“Stop. Is Dynamight going to be home soon?” You wriggled yourself away from his grip, standing up from the island, “Maybe I should call him.”

“I told you, he’ll be back soon, babe. Just sit down-,” Kirishima stepped around the table as you took your cell phone out, going to Bakugou’s contact as you pressed the dial. Holding the phone to your ear as you heard a ring in the room, your eyes widening as you saw Kirishima hold his cell phone up with your contact flashing against the screen.

“I guess you caught me, huh?”

“W-what?” You still didn’t want to believe what he was implying, you’d been talking to Dynamight. It was his Instagram profile, you’d checked multiple times. It was verified, it was him.

“You don’t think Dynamight uploads all his posts himself, do you?”

You’d stopped listening, your eyes catching sight of the scar on his hand, the exact same scar you’d recognised from the photograph you were sent the night before. It was true. You felt your entire body to numb, as though someone had thrown ice cold water over you.

“But now we’ve got that out of the way, we can finally have some fun, yeah?” Kirishima stepped towards you, his calloused fingers stroking against your cheek as you took a step back, trying to put some distance between you both.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” He gave you a toothy smile, closing the gap between you once more, “You weren’t so shy when you were sending me those dirty pictures, babe.”

You felt sick that you’d sent selfies of yourself in such a way to a random stranger on the internet, believing you’d been talking to Dynamight all this time. You couldn’t deny you found Red Riot attractive, he was gorgeous. But you didn’t want this, you weren’t here for him. Did Dynamight even know you existed? Did he see any of your messages at all? Did he know you were here?

“I’ve gotta go.” You felt suffocated, your chest tightening as you moved to pick up your overnight bag. You just needed to get out.

“Maybe you don’t mind other people seeing them?” Kirishima ignored your statement completely, unlocking his phone to bring up the selfies you’d send him the night before, “I’m sure my followers would love to see these-”

“No, please.” You whimpered. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position had bile rising in your throat. Your fingers tighten around your bag as you watch him come closer to you once more, gently pulling your bag out of your grip again as he dumped it back onto the floor. Your lower lip trembled as tears began to prick at your eyes, tumbling freely as you felt him come closer to you, “You wouldn’t-”

This was the Sturdy Hero Red Riot. He wouldn’t just share your leads to his followers, he was known as being such a nice guy.

“You really want to take that risk?” He angled his phone towards you so you could see him adding them to a new Twitter post, “What should I caption it?”

“Please don’t.” Looking at the pictures of yourself made your stomach lurch.

“You look so pretty though, babe. I’m sure the world would love to see-”

“You wouldn’t upload those pictures to your profile, you wouldn’t.” You repeated as though you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. Trying to call his bluff as you watched for his reaction.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Relief surged through you as you thought you were safe. Making your way towards the couch to pick up your overnight bag and to go home.

“But- my phone could get hacked and those photographs could appear on there.” You froze as you heard his cool, calm words, “There’s just so many bad people out there, Princess.”

You were in complete disbelief, he really would do it. And people would just blindly believe that he was hacked because who would believe Red Riot, the friendliest Pro-Hero, would do something so cold and vindictive.

“You can never be too careful these days, you know.” Kirishima sighed, shaking his head and you finally felt defeat. You had no other choice.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just please. Please, don’t post them.” You didn’t want anyone to see you at your most vulnerable. The thought of his million followers seeing made you feel sick.

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Kirishima said cheerily, locking his phone and slipping it into his sweatpants pocket. “I know we can come to a solution that’ll suit us both.”

You couldn’t believe you’d managed to get yourself into this situation and with the Pro-Hero Red Riot no less. You wanted to try and find help, to get as far away from this ordeal as possible, but how? And who would even believe you if you said anything? Dynamight maybe, but the Sturdy Hero, Red Riot? He would never do anything like this, he’s just too nice.

“Take your top off.” You were broken out of your thoughts by the direct command, your eyes widened in disbelief.

“What?” He wanted you to strip, just like that?

“You heard.” Kirishima made the motion to grab his cell phone back out of his pocket which made you tremble, your fingers instantly moving to the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. Standing awkwardly in the living room as his eyes roamed over your exposed skin, taking you all in.

“You look even better than the pictures,” He murmured, stepping closer to you. Your eyes not daring to look at him as you stared at the ground, “Please tell me your panties match.”

You weren’t sure how to answer as you stood motionless in front of him, watching as he walked out of the kitchen to join you.

“It’s okay, Princess.” He cooed, his large palms cupping your cheeks as he tilted your head towards him, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked along your skin.

His cologne invaded your senses as it mingled with his own natural scent, the smell almost comforting as you leaned into his touch. His smile widening as he felt you move closer, his hand catching your chin to angle your face up towards his.

“I know, everyone always wants Dynamight.” His crimson eyes focused on your pouty lips as he leaned forward to brush his lips against them, “But you did say you were a fan.” There was an underlying pride in his tone at this.

“You know I could treat you just as good as him.” He connected your lips in a kiss, making you gasp in surprise as he used this moment to invade your wet heat. His tongue brushing against your teeth as he moved his hands to cup your ass, pulling you against his firm body as you felt the bulge in his sweatpants press against your abdomen. His large palms crept underneath the skirt you were wearing, stroking along your inner thighs until the back of his knuckles brushed against your panties, feeling the lacy material as he ground his hips against you.

“Fuck.” He groaned, pressing his knuckle against your crotch as he felt you involuntarily grind yourself against his touch, “Are these for me?”

You’d worn them especially for Dynamight but here you were in front of Red Riot. You tried to ignore the throb between your thighs as he pressed against your clit. This was wrong. He’d lied to you, he’d tried to blackmail you. You hoped this would be over quick so you could just get home, hoping he’d delete the pictures when you did as he asked.

“I do this and you’ll delete those pictures?” Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused his touch against your clit.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making requests, baby.” He cooed, his lips pressing down against the pulse point in your neck as his teeth nipped against your skin, a dull ebb of pain flowing through your veins as your mouth slipped open in a sultry moan.

“Shit,” He growled against your neck, feeling a wetness between your thighs as it seeped against your panties, dampening the fabric as he moved his fingers towards your entrance. His hand pressing down on it as the thin lace prevented him from dipping inside you. Instead circling the hole as he watched you grind yourself against his touch, “I thought you didn’t want it.”

You couldn’t explain how you felt in this moment, your head swimming with so many thoughts and your body betrayed your repulsion. Your puffy clit throbbing as it ached to be touched, your slick coating his fingers even through your lace panties as he continued to tease you.

You couldn’t deny that Red Riot was an attractive man, any woman would be honoured to have him as their partner, but you’d come here for Dynamight. “I knew you wanted it really.”You whimpered when he pulled his hand back from under your skirt, tugging at the hem of your shirt as he slipped it up over your head, “After you sent me those lewd photos last night I knew you’d see it my way.”

His hand reached back to undo your bra, groaning at the sight of your naked breasts. His palms came up to hold your ribs, thumbing the underside of them as he teased your buds; watched your nipples harden against his touch.

“So sensitive.” He ground his desire against you, feeling it hard against you as he leaned down to tongue one of your nipples softly. Your hands flying to his shoulders for support as your head rolled back, your lips parted in a sultry moan as he palmed the other mound. A thick thigh slipping between your legs to press against your cunt as he watched you grind yourself against him.

“You give off those innocent, good girl vibes.” He whispered against your breast, his lips curving into a smirk, “But you’re such a fuckin’ slut, aren’tcha?”

“No.” You tried to bite back a moan as he continued to tease your chest, tugging at your perky nipple and watching the way your breast bounced when he let go. Copying the motion on the other one as he ground himself against you.

“God, your tits are perfect.” Both palms cupped your breasts, his hands so large they covered each mound perfectly, massaging them gently as he watched your blissful reaction, “You like that, yeah?”

You bit your lip, hard. You did, it felt so good. But you didn’t want to say it, you didn’t want him to know. He’d tricked you into this, he’d lied to you.

“Of course you do, slutty girls like having their tits played with.” You trembled at his crude words, your body betraying you as you let out a whine which seemed to please Kirishima a lot. A look of glee on his features as he pressed down on your shoulders, moving you to your knees. “You gonna show me how grateful you are that I didn’t share your slutty photos?”

Your knees pressing against the hardwood floor uncomfortably as you stared up at him with wide eyes.

“I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” He tugged his shirt up over his head and you were almost distracted from the situation you were in. You’d seen his chest before because of his Hero outfit but nothing prepared you for seeing it in the flesh. There wasn’t a hint of fat on him, his body made from bulging muscle. Your eyes scanning down to his prominent Adonis belt, a black trail of hair scattered down his abdomen and disappearing into his grey sweats. Dark scars littered his body, only adding to how strong and powerful he looked. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, an action that caused Kirishima to grin.

He dipped his thumbs into his sweats, tugging the fabric down below the curve of his ass as his cock sprang to attention, the swollen head leaking with pre-cum as he wrapped his hand around himself, giving himself a teasing pump as he brushed the tip against your lips. You felt his pre smear against your lips as he gave your cheek a light tap, pressing himself to your pursed lips as he held your head still. Watching as you slowly took him in, his length disappearing inside of you as he pushed his hips forward, feeling his head hit the back of your throat.

You began to gag around him as he pulled back, coughing at the intrusion as he gave you a second of respite before pushing forward again, your tongue tracing along the prominent veins as you began to bob your head along him.

“That’s it, Baby. Such a good girl,” A mixture of spit and cum began to dribble down your chin as you continued to gag around him, trying to breathe through your nose as he carded his fingers through your hair, holding your head still as he began to rut his hips into you. Your nose buried in his black pubes as he hit the back of your throat, fucking your face as you tried to focus on something, anything else, “Shit.”

Your throat burned from his ministrations, his pace unrelenting as he selfishly searched for his own pleasure, fresh tears pooling in your eyes as you tried to keep up with his pace. Relief flooded through you when he pulled back, his fist pumping his wet cock as he held his length against your face, using his grip on the back of your head to pull you towards his balls, your tongue innocently slipping out to lap at them, glancing up to see the blissful expression on his face as your knees ached against the wooden floor.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just like that.” You sucked one of them into your mouth, your tongue lashing against it as you watched his eyes flutter shut, obviously pleased with your actions.

“Gonna make me cum early if you’re not careful, Princess.” You hoped that when he finally came your ordeal would be over. The admission making you want to work harder to achieve the goal as your palm came up to stroke against his taint, making him moan in pleasure as he jerked his hips against you.

“Don’t you want to cum, Red Riot?” His hips stuttered at the use of his Hero name as he pulled back from you, grabbing your upper arms to help you off the ground.

“Oh, I do. But I wanna cum inside that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“No, please. Anything but that.” A look of fear covering your features.

“I bet you’d let Dynamight cum inside that pretty pussy.” His fingers already working on tugging your skirt down, grunting when he saw the sight of your skimpy, lace thong.

“You were looking to get fucked today, huh?” Kirishima twirled you, taking in the sight of your naked ass complimented by the lacy fabric, unable to resist lifting a palm up to spank one of your round cheeks, “Look at you.”

The motion made you squeal in surprise as he pressed you over the arm of his couch, your ass poised in the air as your legs hung over the edge. His rough palms already massaging the tender skin before landing another harsh smack on your ass. Leaving darkened marks in his wake as he alternated cheeks.

“You were acting like you didn’t want this, but look how fucking wet you are.” He dragged a thick finger along your crotch, watching the way you bucked your hips back against him, the tip of his finger pushing down on the fabric as it slipped between your slick folds, tugging at the material as it brushed against your clit causing a pleasurable sensation to flow through you. Whining as he gave your ass another smack.

“I don’t-” You tried to deny how good Kirishima was making you feel, desperate for his touch as you wiggled your hips, your body betraying your mind, “We shouldn’t.”

“You’re forgetting who’s in charge here, babe.” He gave your ass another smack, his palm rubbing soothing circles against the throbbing, darkened skin, “I’ll give you a clue. It isn’t you.”

Both hands massaged your ass now as he rut his hips against you, feeling his crotch grind against your clit as he watched you try and push back against him, your needy cunt desperate for any kind of relief.

“You have no idea how annoying it is when people always want Dynamight.” Kirishima curled his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your thighs as he watched strings of your slick connecting to the fabric break off. Gently lifting your legs as he made you step out of them, “No one ever picks Red Riot over him.”

He held your panties up for a moment, admiring just how wet the crotch was. The area was darker than the rest of the fabric as he slipped them into the pocket of his sweats. Finally taking in the sight of your naked sex. Your folds glistening with your slick as he leaned down to give you an experimental lick. The rough pad of his tongue dragging along your clit as he made his way towards your tight entrance, “God, you taste so good.”

“Ever had anything in here, Princess?” You squirmed as the pad of his tongue lapped at the rim of your ass, eyes widening in fear as you tried to push him back, his hand gripping your ass as he shushed you, rubbing soothing circles around your abused skin.

Kirishima pursed his lips as he spat down on your puckered hole, thumbing your entrance as he felt you flutter against him. The tip barely inside as you shifted beneath him, trying to get him to stop.

“Not there, please.” You begged, terrified that he would breach your entrance.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good.” You felt relief wash over you as he moved his hand back from your back hole. His lips groaning against your sex as his palms spread you apart. Slowly flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit as he watched your body react to his ministrations, sweet moans spilling from your lips as he worked your body with precision. You mewled as his tongue dipped inside your cunt, feeling him slurp at your essence as he palmed your ass cheek, pulling them apart to give himself more access.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have you cum on my face later.” He growled against your sex, sending pleasurable vibrations straight to your core. His fingers joined his tongue as he slipped two inside your heat, feeling the stretch of your cunt around him as he sucked your clit between his lips.

W-what? Later? Kirishima said you just had to do this and then you could go home, he didn’t mention anything about later. You began to panic as you placed your palms flat on the couch, trying to push yourself up but he was quick to push you back down.

“Stay there, beautiful. I think Dynamight would like seeing you like this.” You turned your head to the side to see Kirishima slipping his hand inside his sweats to grab his cell phone, holding it up to your wet cunt, his fingers still buried deep inside you.

“No, please don’t. Red Riot-” You broke off into a moan as he curled his digits to brush against the spongy spot inside you, “Please-”

“Aw, you want me to keep them for myself, is that it?” He locked his phone after taking some photos, dumping it onto the coffee table, “I knew you’d come around eventually, babe.”

He kept his pace consistent against your inner walls, dragging his calloused pads against the same spot over and over. Pleasure slowly building up inside you as you ground yourself back against his digits, whimpering against the plush cushions of the couch. Your body betraying your mind as your entire body felt warm, the coil inside you tightening as you felt yourself teetering over the edge.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” Kirishima began scissoring them inside you, a dull squelching sound filling the air as he watched you grind yourself back against his digits, “You wanna cum?”

“Yes,” You whispered, your voice muffled against the cushions as he moved his fingers back to press on the same spot inside you.

“What was that, Princess? I didn’t quite hear you.” You quivered as you felt him move his thumb to rub circles against your puffy clit.

“Please. I wanna cum.” You lay your cheek against the soft fabric as you felt close. So close. Your toes curl as you rocked your hips back into his touch.

“Who do you want to make you cum?” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice, his desperation to hear the answer and you knew exactly what he wanted to hear.

“You, Red Riot, you.” You couldn’t hold back any longer, the added stimulation to your clit making it hard for you to keep your restraint as you felt yourself coming undone.

“Yeah?” He began pumping his fingers into you even faster, gripping your hip tightly to stop you from writhing away from him, “Then do it.”

His words came out as more of a command as you felt the coil inside you snap, crying out in pleasure as you came hard. Your body convulsing as he held you tight. Not stopping his movements as he continued to finger your pulsing hole.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He slowly eased his soaked fingers from your tightness, watching the way your hole clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled, your body slack against the couch as your cheek pressed against the cushion. Your fingertips digging into the fabric. “You look so fucked and you haven’t even had my cock yet.”

A debauched grin on his face as he wrapped the hand that was covered in your essence around his cock, lubricating his length as he gave himself a tug, moving forward to stroke his cock along your wet folds, gathering your slick against his tip. When he nudged the swollen head against your clit you keened, the sensitive nub still overstimulated from your climax as he laughed from behind you. Repeating the motion to watch you tremble beneath him as you tried to move away from his touch. His arms coming underneath you to turn your body, your ass pressed against the arm or the couch as he watched your body go slack, dropping back onto the cushions as he stood above you.

“I wanna see that pretty face when I’m fucking you.” He fisted his cock and you shivered at the thought of him burying himself deep inside you. He was so thick, the swollen head already leaking with more pre as he moved closer.

“You’re so fucking sensitive, huh?” He began to press the thick tip of his cock into your heat, feeling the stretch of your inner walls around him as he slowly sank himself into your cunt, “You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

Your back arched painfully from the position when you felt him sheath himself inside you to the hilt, already tightened up from your release as you bit your bottom lip. Your inner walls clenching around him uncomfortably as he paused, giving you a second to adjust.

“Shit,” His eyes were looking between where your bodies were connected, looking at how his entire length disappeared inside your tight hole. Feeling your inner walls still quivering around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“How many times have you done this?” You murmured, instantly feeling stupid for asking the question when he was buried balls deep inside you, but you needed to know.

“Didn’t you ask me that last night, Princess?” Kirishima smiled down at you, his large palms rubbing soothing circles around your thighs as he gave an experimental thrust, watching your lips part in a low groan, “You’re the only one.”

“But why me?” You felt your throat tighten as you began to feel yourself becoming emotional. He could probably get any girl he wanted in his position, sitting comfortably in the Top Ten. Why you?

“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one, babe.” His crimson eyes glancing down at you, “You’re perfect.”

“I’m just as good as Dynamight. Let me show you.” He cooed, “Gonna treat you so right.”

You whimpered as he held onto your hips, his fingertips digging into your plush skin as he started a languid pace, each roll of his hips made you feel completely full. Kirishima’s crimson eyes watching the way your breasts bounced with each pronounced thrust.

“You’re even prettier than I thought you’d be, you know.” He smiled down at you sincerely, blunt nails digging into your skin as he kept his pace, “I mean. I knew you’d be pretty but damn-”

He grunted as he felt your walls clamp down around him from his words, you couldn’t prevent your body from accepting his praise, even if you had wanted to. Your body ached from how thick he was, your inner walls stretching to accommodate him as he pulled his hips back, his cock dragging against every ridge of your tight heat before just the tip was inside. Watching the way you keened for him, wanting to feel full again as he snapped his hips forward to burying himself deep inside you once more. Repeating the momentum as he watched your expression with pride, his ability to make you look so wanton with such little effort had him throbbing inside you.

“You like my cock inside you, don’t you Princess?” His hands sliding up your ribs to palm your breasts, feeling your back arch into his touch, “You feel so good.”

Kirishima began to pick up the pace, rutting his hips against yours with more velocity as he greedily used your body as his own personal cocksleeve. Your wetness helping him to ease himself in and out of you with minimal resistance. Velvety walls squeezing him deliciously with each pronounced thrust, sweat glistening on both your bodies as he searched for his own release.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He grunted, his palm stroking your sternum as he continued to feel you quiver around him, your inner walls still fluttering in the tremors of your last orgasm, “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum.”

“No, Red Riot. Please, not inside-” The suggestion making your eyes snap open in fear, he wouldn’t-

“Remember, you’re not the one in control here, baby girl.” He teased, leaning down to press his palm against your abdomen, groaning when he felt the bulge of his cock inside you, fucking into your tight cunt, “Would it be so bad if I fucked a baby into you?”

Your lower lip trembled at the realisation of what he was intending to do, your thighs involuntarily squeezing together to try and prevent the inevitable from happening but Kirishima’s thick hips prevented it. His large palms curling underneath your thighs to press your legs towards your chest with a smirk, “You’d look so pretty all pregnant with my kid,”

“Please.” You whispered meekly, his large body dwarfing your own as he towered over you, pressing your legs even further up as he changed the angle of his thrusts. Each hard rut of his hips had his cock dragging against your inner walls perfectly, his thick veins catching against the spongy spot inside you with each motion. His thick black pubes creating delicious friction against your clit as he fucked you senseless. No longer could you form any coherent words as he used your body for his own desire, drool spilling down your cheeks as sweet moans were pulled from your throat.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He grinned, red eyes staring down at your own glistening ones, his hand grabbing one of your bouncing breasts as he moved your leg onto his shoulder, basically folding you over yourself as you felt him even deeper than you thought possible. The tip of his cock bruising your cervix as he worked you towards another release.

“‘M close.” You murmured, your body already quivering in the telltale signs of your release, your legs becoming numb from the uncomfortable position, all you could feel was his cock slamming into your tight walls perfectly.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, Princess?” He smiled in glee when you nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“Who fucks you this good?” He tugged your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he felt you begin to clench around him.

“You do, Red Riot.” You cried, feeling yourself beginning to come undone, “You do.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“Fuck.” You squealed, the combination of stimulation helping you over the edge, your inner walls clamping down around him as you came. Your body convulsing beneath him as you cried out a garbled mixture of his name and his hero name in response.

“Fuck yeah, Princess. All. Fucking. Mine.” He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust, a possessive snarl in his tone as he used you for his own release. His pace became erratic as he felt his climax begin to flow through him, giving a few sloppy thrusts as he came undone, his cock buried inside you to the hilt as he emptied himself inside you. Thick, white ropes of cum coating your inner walls as he rode out his orgasm, treasuring the way your cunt continued to flutter around him. His warm breath fanning your already hot skin as he stilled inside you, savouring the moment for as long as he could.

Kirishima pulled out of your cunt slowly with a groan, keeping your legs held up as he glanced down at your stretched hole fluttering around nothing in the after effects of your orgasm. Feeling his softening cock twitch at the sight of his cum beginning to seep from your cunt as your body slowly pushed it out. His thick fingers moving down to press the mixture back inside your trembling pussy, cherishing the squeal you made when he toyed with your overstimulated sex. Unable to resist reaching up to nudge your puffy clit, just to see your reaction.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it Princess?” He murmured, placing a sloppy kiss against your ankle as he continued to hold your aching legs up, “You were such a good girl.”

“I really should go.” Your voice felt hoarse from overuse as he slowly lowered your legs back down. Alleviating the tension in them as they began to shake slightly, you felt so tired.

“Go? You can’t go yet, babe.” He rubbed soothing circles into your thighs before moving to tuck his softening cock back into his sweatpants, “It’s Christmas.”

“But-”

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your sweaty temple, leaning back to grab his cell phone off the table, “I’m gonna make sure this is the best Christmas you’ve ever had. If it isn’t already.”

“The pictures?” You asked hopefully, watching his eyes float up from his cell phone to you with a grin.

“Oh, don’t worry about those Princess.” He gave you a wink as he began typing across the screen, a teasing tone in his voice, “Although I’m sure Dynamight would love to see pictures of me fucking his biggest fan.”

#tw:noncon #tw:dubcon #trigger:noncon #trigger:dubcon #Yandere kirishima #Yandere kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #Yandere kirishima smut #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #Bnha smut #kirishima eijirou smut

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Two)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, oc is a bad friend:(, sexual tension (?), body image issues, oc is feeling a lil insecure, mentions of sex, sounds of sex, crying, male masturbation, fantasy includes: spanking and vaginal intercourse.

Notes: thanks for the love for the first part…heres part 2! I hope everyone enjoys:) get ready for drama to come hahaha. If you wanted to be added to the taglist just send me an ask or whatevs, and feel free to send one if you want to discuss the story!

Taglist: @monvieesdaebak @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i

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Gentleman: “A civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man.” Is how the dictionary defines the word but if you were to look up the term in your own dictionary it would just be a picture of Taehyung’s handsome as hell face.

Opening the car door, pulling your chair out, holding your hand, softly gripping your waist, making you feel like the only one in the room—Taehyung is doing everything right. Your mind should be overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung. He should be filling your every sense, he should be the only thing you can understand. He should be. But every time his perfect lips land on the skin of your cheek, your mind somehow finds Jungkook. That son of a bitch.

There’s a string of warm lights dangling on the restaurants brick walls, and it’s almost picture perfect but one of the bulbs is out and it’s making the scene less ideal. Your eyes keep going back to the one bulb that refuses to shine. You just want everything to be perfect.

“I know I already told you…” Taehyung is sitting across from you, his gentle smile making your heart flutter, “But you look so pretty tonight.”

You know you should be gazing into his chocolate eyes but you can’t keep your eyes from shifting towards that stupid ass bulb. All the other bulbs are lit up just fucking fine but this bulb wants to be difficult. It just hasto go against everyone else. Your eyes narrow at the string of lights and you scoff. This stupid bulb reminds you of someone.

Taehyung brought you to a decently fancy restaurant, the food is alright but he says the main attraction is the monster baked cookie with ice cream melting over the top. He is excited like a child at the mention of his favorite dessert, you can’t help but smile fondly towards him.

“So…” Taehyung slides the dessert closer to you, “I never asked but how did Jungkook take the whole not really talking in public thing?”

Your eyes shoot up to the stupid bulb and you blink at it a few times. “I…” Your gaze drifts back to him. “I didn’t tell him.”

Taehyung drops his napkin at the news, his eyes slightly widening as he processes your words.

“We just aren’t talking right now.”

You wince as the words leave your mouth, but it’s true. You are a coward who is just ignoring her best friend because you don’t have the balls to face him. You don’t have the balls to forgive him and you definitely don’t have the balls to inform him that he’s out of the picture for a month. Because you don’t have the balls to admit to yourself you chose a boy over your friend. Basically you’re just a bitch with no balls!

“Yeah, he isn’t really talking to me either.” Taehyung chuckles bitterly, “He’s really against this…I mean, I knew he was protective over you but—”

“Protective my ass.” You lean back in your chair, “He’s just being stupid.”

Taehyung looks at you and frowns. It makes you want to kiss his pouting lips.

“But thank you.”

Taehyung’s quizzical expression makes you snort,

“For the compliment. Thank you. You look really handsome as well.” You smile, your hand sliding across the table to hold his. You gently squeeze and pull back, letting go. Taehyung smiles at you but something strange settles in his eyes. He’s struck with an awkward expression as he forces another smile, his lips pulled together tightly.

“Thanks y/n” He opens his mouth then closes then opens, “For doing this. Seriously, thank you.”

“Well, you’re kind of supplying me with free coffee.” You laugh into your hand.

“Regardless,” Taehyung leans back in his chair, “You’re a good friend.”

Right. Friend... But you feel optimistic you will flee this place! The god forsaken friend zone! You smile at Taehyung, grabbing your fork and cutting into the cookie with it. You stare into Taehyung’s dark eyes as you bring the fork to your lips—okay yes, you are most definitely trying to make this sexy—you open your mouth wide and wrap you lips around the piece of cookie, you never break contact with Taehyung. You chew slowly and roll your eyes to the back of your head, like the dramatic ass bitch you are. You open an eye to see his reaction, you see him gulp and a small smile begins forming on his lips.

“mmm” you moan again.

“RIGHT?!”

~~~

“We got some pretty insta worthy photos!” Taehyung chuckles into your hair as he pulls back from the hug. “I would say tonight was a success!”

Right. A success. Because this is all for show. To get this Anna girl off his back. Not because he likes you or anything. You can’t help but feel disappointed in his words.

“That’s good Tae.” Your hands linger on his back, not wanting to let go completely. “I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

“And the next day and the next day,” he teases, “And don’t forget this weekend is the pool party at my friend Jin’s house.” Then Taehyung nibbles on his lips, “Jungkook is going…so you should probably talk to him.”

You probably should of figured Jungkook is going to go…but that doesn’t stop you from feeling shocked. You should tell him he needs to lay low in public for a month but you guys aren’t talking already so do you really have to have that discussion with him?

“We’ll see.”

Taehyung steps forward and grabs your hand, “y/n…I know I said no Jungkook but I really just meant that you two aren’t all over each other in public…you don’t have to ignore him at home too…I’m sure he isn’t feeling great about it. And honestly, it makes me feel guilty too.” He admits softly, his hand feels sweaty in yours.

“He’s an asshole.” You let go of his hand, you feel your chest tighten and you hate yourself.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I should get inside now.”

“Okay…” Taehyung leans in for another quick hug and places a kiss on your forehead. You wish you could enjoy it but on the other side of this forehead are thoughts of Jungkook. Once again, that son of a bitch.

~~~

The next few days pass quickly, you and Taehyung have gone on two more dates.

The second date felt like a movie—it was classic and dreamy. Taehyung picked you up and drove you over to the next town that was having a carnival. You walked around holding hands, eating cotton candy and laughing at his jokes. The night ended with the ferris wheel, where you two got some insta worthy pictures—one shot including his lips on yours.

It felt so surreal. He posted it on Instagram that night with the caption ‘Her’ with purple hearts and within a couple hours there were at least 50 comments congratulating the two of you.

Third date you two went to a drive in theater. You fed each other popcorn, talked over the radio’s audio and took snaps to prove your date to the world.

This week has been nothing short of amazing. Taehyung is absolutely perfect. You feel like the only girl in the world with him. Like you don’t have to compete with anyone. Unfortunately, the week may have felt amazing on the outside, on the inside it’s been…weird.

The weird part of this week is the lack of Jungkook. Your usual cereal at noon on Tuesdays didn’t happen, your usual weekly episode of My Hero didn’t happen, your usual chit chat and banter didn’t occur. Just silence and awkward passes.

It’s all your doing though…Jungkook has tried. He still sat at the breakfast table munching on Apple Jacks while you passed him by, walking out your front door to meet Taehyung. He saved this week’s episode to your list so you could watch it. He has sent you multiple texts saying he’s sorry and he misses you but you ignored them. You have purposely started putting a distance between the two of you and it makes you uncomfortable.

You remind yourself that, besides doing this because Taehyung requested it, it is also for the best.

~~~

You sit at the edge of your bed staring at the bouquet of flowers Taehyung had sent you this morning. You eye the flowers, taking in their gorgeous appearance. They’re open and full and colorful. But why do you look at them and feel disappointed?

They seem to be begging for water, so you stand to your feet and grab the bouquet. You head for the kitchen to find your mothers crystal vase so you can place the beautiful flowers in it.

Jungkook is sitting at the breakfast table, slurping on some noodles and playing on his phone. You completely ignore him as you walk into the kitchen.

You stand on your tip toes to try to reach the vase in the cupboard but it’s too high for you. God damn it, you think. There’s no way in hell you’re asking Jungkook for help, no way in hell!

*about 10 pathetic seconds later*

“Jungkook, will you help me?”

You don’t even turn around to face him, you just raise your voice so hears you. Yeah, you’re a coward. You hear the screech of the chair against the tiled floor and you shiver. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he walks up behind you, his chest coming flush against your back and you swear if he tried to pay attention he could probably feel your heartbeat through the contact. You stay frozen as he reaches his arms above you and grabs the vase. He must of just done laundry because his detergent fills your nostrils, its clean and refreshing. He sets the vase down on the counter and he continues to stand closely behind you, his scent now overwhelming your senses.

“These flowers are pretty.” He leans down to say in your ear. His hand coming down to hold on to your waist. “But you only like tulips.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “These are fine too.”

“Yeah, they are.” He admits. “But they’re not what you want.” He squeezes your waist, then he’s backing away from your body and a chill is left behind as he gets further away. It’s like the further he walks away from you the colder you become. As if Jungkook is the source of your warmth.

~~~

It’s Saturday afternoon and you are finally done getting ready. Taehyung is taking you out to a pool party today, hosted by one of his close friends—Jim? No, Jin. You know you’ve heard Jungkook talk about him before but haven’t gotten the chance to meet him since he’s a bit older and already graduated.

You look in the mirror as you tug your oversized shirt over your shorts. Underneath is a plain black bikini but unfortunately today is not a good day—you’re bloated as hell and it shows. At least you think it does. You continue to rate yourself in the mirror when Jungkook walks past your room.

“Didn’t know you were so self obsessed.” He pops in to say.

You turn to face him and as soon as he sees your frustrated expression he knows you’re on the verge of waterworks.

“Woah woah, whats wrong?” Jungkook is quick to rush to your side. You’ve been ignoring him for a week yet he still rushes to you when you need him. You’re a god damn bitch.

“I feel fat but I have a pool party to attend to and—”

“You’re going to that too…?” Jungkook eyes the ground under his feet. He sounds disappointed.

You try to steady your breathing but you feel a breakdown coming and Jungkook can sense it too.

“You’re not fat.” He states plainly.

“You wouldn’t know with these clothes I’m wearing.” You try to reason.

“Then take them off and show me.” He’s obviously aware of the bathing suit underneath but still, his words do something strange to you.

“No, I’m ugly.” Is all you respond with.

“y/n I don’t have time for this, either show me or like, don’t go.”

“Fine!”

You begin unbuttoning your shorts, painfully slow. He watches as you fumble with the zipper as you slide it down. You drag the shorts down your legs one by one and then you reach for the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. This leaves you half naked and feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Jungkook eyes you up and down quite shamelessly. His tongue darts out to lick his lip and he muffles a groan,

“You look fine.” He says so nonchalantly it makes you want to pull his hair out.

“Just fine?”

“You look good y/n” he says, his eyes sliding to the left. You don’t feel quite satisfied with his answer so you step towards him, getting so close he is forced to step back until his back is against the wall.

“How good?” you say, your voice dipping lower than usual, “So good you would—"

Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr bbrrrrr bbrrrr

Your phone.

“Hello? ….Hey Tae. No need, I’ll just meet you at your car. Okay, bye.” You click the phone off and throw it on your bed. You gather your clothes and put them back on as Jungkook stands there awkwardly. Once you have your things you turn to face Jungkook.

“Well Tae is here…” you motion towards the door. “Look, if you’re going to be at the party can you try to…respect my fake relationship? We wanna make it as real as poss—”

“I get it.” Jungkook snaps before walking out your bedroom. Fantastic.

~~~

“And this is y/n.” Taehyung pushes you forward by the shoulders as you stumble in front of all these new faces.

“Hi everyone.” You squeak out.

Everyone gives you a warm welcome, many handshakes and hugs later you feel well acquainted. You notice a familiar face. He’s laughing with Jin over some beers and you smile in their direction. Namjoon, a friend you met freshmen year. He notices you look in his direction and he waves you over. So you walk towards him and Jin, Namjoon handing you a drink as you get closer.

“Long time no see y/n!” his dimples light up the entire backyard. He glances between you and Taehyung, who is chatting with some others.

“You and our Taehyungie, huh?” He grins at you, “honestly, I thought you would end up with Jungkook.” You can’t help but blush at that. A real deep blush. Namjoon chuckles but his eyes hold pity.

“no no not Jungkook.” You laugh awkwardly.

“Well, Jungkook has always spoken really highly of you so I am sure Taehyung is a lucky guy.” Jin chimes in.

For some reason you feel sick at that. Jungkook speaks highly of you? Yet here you are ignoring him for another guy. You are avoiding your own best friend because of a boy. Fuck, you are the worst.

“thanks guys…well, I’m gonna go see Tae.”

You walk over to Taehyung, and when he spots you he absolutely lights up. His boxy grin taking over his entire face.

“There’s my girl,” he pulls you in for a hug and places a kiss to your head. You want to melt, you want to feel the lava of love drown you but instead you feel anxious as you notice Jungkook from across the yard. He’s got a beer to his lips and his eyes on you.

“Thanks for doing this y/n.” Taehyung also catches the pair of eyes watching the two of you. He meets Jungkook’s hard gaze and automatically Taehyung is filled with anxiety as well. Jungkook just shakes his head towards his friend and takes a generous sip of his drink.

“Everything okay?” you ask, squeezing his hand in yours.

“Everything is fine.” He says with a tight lip smile. “Just glad you’re here.” He says honestly.

A few hours pass, and the whole gang is crowded in the pool. Mostly everyone is drunk, but you are pretty sober. Not wanting a repeat of last weekend. Yikes, amirite ladies? Taehyung has his hands all over you, which you don’t really mind. The thought of him touching you was once something that might make you faint but you’ve grown comfortable. Your eyes scan the pool when you notice Jungkook is nowhere to be found. Did he go home already? Maybe he was feeling so down because you’ve been ignoring him…god, you hate yourself. You just need to talk to him. You’re a shitty friend, for sure.

“I’m gonna be right back,” you whisper to Taehyung. He only nods his head and continues chatting with his friends.

Jin’s house is beyond nice, and also huge. You are trying to find the bathroom but feel like you are opening every door but the one you’re looking for. There’s only one door left at the end of the main hall and you bet your entire ass it’s the bathroom. You reach for the door knob when you hear something muffled on the other side. Oh, it’s taken.

“Thanks for this.” It’s a woman’s voice.

“No problem.” Its Jungkook. You feel your stomach drop. What makes you feel worse is how detached Jungkook sounds. He sounds far away and broken. The doorknob begins to rattle and you try to make a run for it in time but are too late. The door is swinging open and one of Jin’s friends is walking out and in the background you see Jungkook zipping up his pants. His eyes meet yours and you want to run the fuck away.

“y/n?” Jungkook’s eyes expand twice their size as he spots you.

“I was…I was just looking for the bathroom.”

Jungkook’s face hardens, “Well, you found it.” He makes his way to pass you but you grab on to his arm to stop him.

“Wait,” you breathe in and out, trying to give yourself time to think of what you want to say.

“What is it?” his voice is somehow softer than he probably intended.

“I want to talk to you…explain to you why I’ve been ignoring you.”

“Yeah, you’re still pissed at me, I fucking get it.” He spits out bitterly.

“It’s…it’s more than that.”

“More than that? Did I do something more? What did I do? y/n just tell me…” He rocks back and forth on his heels, his eyes glued to the ground.

“You’re going to be so mad at me, maybe even hate me—”

“You know I could never hate you.” He whispers, sounding so sincere it crushes you.

You glance around your surroundings, making sure no one is around and drag him back into the bathroom for some privacy. You shut the door behind you, trying so hard to ignore the smell of sex.

“Tae thought—” you begin but Jungkook is already rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Of course Tae thought.” His tone almost scares you. “Let me guess? Taehyung doesn’t want me around while you guys are fake dating. That’s not fucking weird to you?” He grits between his teeth. He balls up his fists at his side, you see his knuckles turn white and it makes you feel uneasy.

“He made some good points…”

“Oh really?” Jungkook laughs bitterly, “Like what?”

You looked into Jungkook’s doe eyes and feel a sense of guilt, like you somehow made the wrong choice.

“He thinks we’re too close. And he’s right. It would be weird if I’m super closer to another guy while dating him.” you reason, but your face falls when you see Jungkook’s scrunched up expression.

“You think we’re too close?” he whispers.

Well, yes. But also, no. Of course not, but also yes. How do you tell Jungkook all of that?

“People always think we’re dating or fucking or—”

“Oh? And all the sudden we care what people think?” his voice wavers from the rollercoaster of emotions he is feeling.

“Jungkook wait, I’m wording this all wrong. It’s just for a month okay?”

“You wanna date him that badly? That you would throw me away?” he grits out.

“Hey! That’s not fucking fair.”

“So what? Say your little fantasy comes true and he decides he wants to date you for real? Am I still out of the picture?”

“No no, of course not…” you shake your head and reach for his hands but he pulls away.

“So then what’s the difference now?”

Jungkook has a good point but you’re at a loss for words. Too choked up to speak.

“And you know what y/n? Fuck you for choosing him over me in the first place.” And with that Jungkook breezes past you, swings open the bathroom door and is out of your view.

Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before, you stand there with your mouth hung open and tears forming in your eyes.

He’s right. You fucked up. You did a fucked up thing. You chose a boy who may not even actually like you over the one guy who has always had your back.

“y/n?” you snap your head in the direction of the door to see Taehyung standing there. A look of disappointment decorating his face.

“I was told you and Jungkook were in the bathroom…” he spits out.

“I had to talk to him, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but how does this look for me?” Taehyung speaks sternly. You did NOT need this right now.

“Tae—”

“You couldn’t even last more than a week y/n.” he scoffs.

“Listen could we just talk about this later?” you ask with pleading eyes.

“I’ll call an uber.” He motions towards the hallway, “we can talk tomorrow.”

You slump your shoulders and nod your head, tomorrow sounds like it’s for the best.

3 days have passed and neither Jungkook nor Taehyung have talked to you.

You hear Jungkook come in and out of the apartment but you’re too shy to make a move outside of your bedroom. He’s either coming from classes, the gym, Jimins, or some girls house and you’re dying to know which.

You have been hibernating in your room, taking comfort in your bed when you get a notification from Instagram.

@V tagged you in a post.

You scramble to unlock your phone so you can view the post. Once you are on the app you click on you notifs and click on the post.

It’s a picture of you eating cotton candy from when he took you to the fair on your date. With the caption:

“Missing my girl tonight”

And a bunch of heart emojis. Your own heart sinks. He misses you? You close the app and instead open your messages.

y/n 9:08pm

You miss me for the show or is there some truth behind that?

Taehyung 9:20pm

Maybe it’s both?

Taehyung 9:22pm

I am sorry for how I left things…I was just kinda embarrassed that my supposed girl was with another guy,,,in a bathroom.

y/n 9:24pm

trust me I know how it looks and im sorry…

y/n 9:26pm

If it makes you feel any better Jungkook isn’t talking to me either.

Taehyung 9:26pm

Of course that doesn’t make me feel better, he is your best friend…

y/n 9:28pm

tae, I hope we can continue this…I still want to help you…

Taehyung 9:34pm

Ill pick you up at 6 for a date tmrw: )

y/n 9:34pm

I cant wait: ) : )

You click your phone off and toss it on the other side of the bed, you squeal in excitement as the realization hits that Taehyung still wants to do this with you.

You hear Jungkook on the other side of the wall, yelling into what you assume is his headset. He’s gaming. You miss him so god damn much. He has no idea what his silence is doing to you. You try to focus your attention on tomorrows date with Taehyung but you can’t help the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Guilt. You were an awful friend and now thinking about it you are continuing to be an awful friend. If he even counts you as friends anymore.

“fuck you”

Those words ring loud and clear in your ears. You didn’t even know Jungkook was capable of speaking to you like that. It fucking hurts.

Jungkook is in his room pacing back and forth. He saw it. The insta post. And he feels like he’s losing you. Neither of you have made a move to speak to the other. He’s just too hurt and you continue to see Taehyung? You obviously don’t feel too bad about the whole ordeal. And 3 days is just too long. A week was too long, but somehow these 3 days are worse.

Jungkook grabs his phone and opens up tinder. He messages one of the girls that’s been teasing him lately. He figures now is the time to make more of a move.

Jungkook 10:00pm

Hey ;) what are you doing tonight?

Leslie 10:10pm

Gonna be thinking about you probably;)

Jungkook 10:12pm

Instead of thinking about me, come see me.

And that was it, that’s all it took. She was quick to agree and he is already sending her the address.

It’s after 11pm when you hear the front door open, you quietly get out of bed, curiosity getting the best of you. Was Jungkook leaving? But then you hear a girls voice and you immediately frown. Oh. She sounds pretty. Is that even a thing? Well, she does. And it has you feeling weird. You thought you were over this.

You hear the patter of their footsteps walking towards Jungkook’s room, the sound of his door opening and closing just like that.

You walk back to your bed feeling ashamed for spying, but now you know you won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Fanfuckingtastic.

“aaahhh…” the random girl whines out causing you to shift uncomfortably in your bed.

“More?” you can hear Jungkook’s muffled voice, he sounds strained. Probably because he’s fucking some girl a few feet away from you.

You reach over to your nightstand for your headphones when you hear Jungkook grunting as the beds headboard bangs against your wall, he groans and moans and you feel yourself getting hotter.

You try not to imagine Jungkook in these scenarios but he sounds…no, you won’t have those thoughts…you don’t want to remember. Your hand is still midair when you retreat it back to your bed.

“Fuck yeah baby.” You hear him gripe. And you squeeze your thighs together. No, this cannot be happening.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” Fuck, she sounds so fucked out.

“Feels so good, feels so good” he pants over and over and you feel the back of your eyes burn.

“gonna come” he groans out and your chest is heaving now, your breathing becoming a chore. You can’t cry, not over this. He hates you and he’s buried in some other girl. And you want to fucking crying about it. You hear him moaning on the other side of the wall and then—

“Fuuuuuuccckk” his orgasm is fucking apparent. He’s obviously coming and you’re lying in your bed all fucking pathetic with tears staining your cheeks.

Jungkook lays in bed totally fucked out of his mind. This girl is sleeping next to him, trying to her best to cuddle but he resists. He wishes he had time to himself to think properly. He just fucked another girl and thought of you the entire time. He is 100% fucked up. Wait, wait. He needs to explain himself…it’s not like he thought of you like, sexually. It’s just you’re all that’s on his mind. Even during fucking sex. And he hates himself for it.

He decides to sneak out of bed to have a shower. He creaks open his door for any sign of life and when there is none he tip toes to the bathroom. Jungkook stands in the shower letting the warm water cascade over his skin, he just stands there lifeless.

Images of you cross his mind and he sinks to his knees, pulling them into his chest and he quietly curses under his breath. He misses you so much and things have gotten so messed up he just doesn’t even know how to fix it.

He scrubs himself clean, ridding the scent of the random girl he brought over. He sniffles under the raining water hating himself.

Jungkook dries himself off with your towel, and puts on his shorts. His chest left bare.

He exits the bathroom when he notices a light coming from the kitchen and sees you sitting at the table with a glass of water.

“oh.” Jungkook slips up.

“oh?” you wonder.

“I thought you were fast asleep.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

“Just woke up.” You lie through your teeth with a strained smile. “Couldn’t sleep…”

“I know the feeling…” he admits, walking closer to you.

Jungkook makes his way to the table before pulling out a chair and sitting down next to you.

“Listen—”

“Jungkook—”

You both begin talking at the same time. Jungkook ushers you to go first.

“I…I’m still fake dating Tae.”

“I know.”

“But…” your eyes gloss over, getting choked up trying to continue. “But I am so sorry.” A few tears spill from your eyes.

“I know y/n.” he reaches his hand to squeeze your knee. You feel so much better with him touching you. “I’m sorry too…I was really harsh. And it pains me every day that I haven’t talked to you.”

“Trust me, I get it. I wanted to like, kill myself not talking to you.” Your eyes slam shut as more tears threaten to fall.

Jungkook’s face morphs into a deep frown, “You know I don’t like when you say that…”

“Right…sorry.”

“Honestly y/n…I don’t know when I will be okay with this, but I’ll respect your wishes for the month.”

“Jungkook…” Your hand flies down to his and you squeeze it but he’s quick to let it go.

“I’m mad at you right now.” He admits softly, his breathing is slow and steady. “So just give me some space.”

~~~

Like magical clockwork you hear light knocking on your front door. You scramble to find your phone and your purse to make it to the door in good time but you hear it being creaked open and the voices of two men. Shit, Jungkook got to the door first.

Ever since you started fake dating Taehyung it seems Jungkook has been keeping a distance from him. You aren’t sure why but they’ve been weird. So you want to avoid as much awkwardness as possible. You grab all your belongings and rush to the living room and find the two men sitting on the sofa quietly chatting.

“Can you keep your voice down dude?” Taehyung peers over his shoulder, looking in the direction of your room. “Would if she hears?”

“I wish she would fucking hear,” Jungkook grits through his teeth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Why don’t you just tell her?” he leans back on the back of the sofa, “She might be understanding, hm? Do it before it’s too late or I swear to god Taehyung I will tell her myself.”

“You swore you wouldn’t say shit. Just like how I swore not to say any—”

“Okay.”

“I’ll tell her dude. Just give me some time to—"

Jungkook’s eyes shoot up when he hears the light creak of your bedroom door open, he waits expectantly for you to walk through.

“Hey guys,” you announce your presence and both boys look up at you and smile. Taehyung with his boxy grin and Jungkook with a tightlipped smile.

“Hey y/n, you look nice,” Taehyung stands to his feet and walks towards you, “I mean, you always do.” He stops just in front of you and hands you a bag.

“What’s this?” you take the bag and jingle it around a bit.

“just something for our date.” He grins. “You can open it later.” Taehyung glances over at Jungkook, “Anyway, let’s get going. See you later man.” He nods toward the boy and faces you again. “shall we?”

You smile up at Taehyung and take his hand in your yours and lead him towards the front door but before you leave you and Jungkook make eye contact and he frowns.

Taehyung being the gentlemen he is runs to the car before you and opens your car door.

“Feet inside?” he asks and you’re nodding yes when he shuts the door for you. He runs around the other side and enters the car himself. Taehyung settles on an old 50’s station with the volume just right. He’s humming along with a dopey grin on his face, feeling satisfied with his choice.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Let’s get some dinner first then we can do our date activity I have planned” he chuckles to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

You drive around in comfortable silence when you decide to take your phone out and shoot Jungkook a text.

y/n 6:14pm

You okay?

Jungkook 6:16pm

Don’t worry about me while you’re out with another guy

“Everything okay?” Taehyung asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.” You reply quite honestly.

“About Jungkook?”

“What?? Why would you assume that?” your voice rises in panic.

“Well, we were all just together and I know you and him are fighting…I thought it was a safe assumption.” He laughs awkwardly.

“Oh…right. Actually, me and Jungkook sorted things out kind of but we’re still barely talking.”

“oh? Really?” Taehyungs grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“He said he will steer clear for the month, ya know, in public.”

“He—he agreed?” Taehyung coughs a few times, his head pushed back in disbelief.

“Something like that.” You don’t really know what to say, this is an awkward thing to be talking about and you wish the subject would change.

“Anyway,” you begin, “How did things with Anna escalate?”

Taehyung freezes. The color draining from his face as his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“Um.” Taehyung feels sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to come up with an answer.

“You know how it is,” his mouth feels dry as he tries to speak, “She just won’t leave me alone and I want to show her that I am taken so she will get the hint.” Then a sly smile spreads across his face “and I think it’s working.”

“You think so?” you raise a brow in question.

“Well, you are such a convincing girlfriend after all.” His right arm extends towards your knee and he squeezes it. “Thanks again y/n…” he almost sounds…guilty. But you push that thought away and smile at him. Your sweet smile making him feel even guiltier.

~~~

“Dinner was sooo good.” You raise your arms above your head, stretching your body, a satisfied moan leaving you as you lower your arms again.

“I knew you’d like it! Best pizza in town!” Taehyung sets his credit card in the bill holder on the table. “Ready for what I have planned next?”

“hmmm, yes.”

The two of you wait for the server to return so you can finish paying so you can leave. Once all finished up at the restaurant the two of you head back to the parking lot and get inside his car to go to your next destination.

“Your apartment?” you ask as you notice his building coming into view.

“Yes. But you’ll see.” He turns his head quickly to flash you his pearly whites.

The two of you walk to his front door as he unlocks the door. Taehyung has a two bedroom apartment but lives alone. You’ve only ever seen his kitchen and living room and you’re wondering if you’re lucky enough you’ll see his bedroom. Hehe but that’s wishful thinking.

“You have that bag?” Taehyung asks,

“yup,” you say lifting it up and showing him the precious goods.

“Great go put it on!”

You tilt your head in confusion but you see how excited he is so you walk to his bathroom and shut the door behind you. Would if it was lingerie? You giggle to yourself at the ridiculous idea.

You open the bag to find some type of clothing. First, you pull out a large white t shirt and next was an…apron? The apron was a light pink color with a pocket in the front with your initials embroidered on it. You gasp once you realize it, your heart beating out of your chest as you melt into a puddle on the floor. He got your initials on an apron? You hurry to change into the white t shirt and put the apron on.

“Cute.” You murmur to yourself in the mirror before you’re out the door and back into the living room.

“How do you like it?” Taehyung asks from behind you, surprising you with a glass of water. You take the water gratefully and gulp down a few sips before answering.

“love it, but what’s it for?”

Taehyung beams, grabbing your arm and leading you into one of the bedrooms. He stands in front of the door and bounces on his heels.

“Ready?”

“Yes?”

“Never showed anyone this room but I feel like you’re special” Taehyung giggles, “Plus I thought it was a cute date idea.”

“hmm, okay. I’m ready.” You are such a fool for this boy, his cuteness doing a million things to you.

Taehyung begins to slowly open the door revealing a room with tarp covering the ground and easels taking up space. There are buckets of paint, a variety of colors spread all across. And many, many art pieces.

“You…” you begin to say in awe, “You’re an artist, Tae?”

“Aspiring.” He chuckles a bit bitterly. “How would you like to paint together?”

“You feel comfortable enough with me?” you ask, surprised.

“Something about you….” He starts but leaves it hanging. “Let’s paint!”

You dip your paint brush in purple paint and stroke it across the canvas, the color joining a mess of other colors. That’s art, right? Fuck, you are not good at this. You sneak a glance over at Taehyung to see him painting a scenic art piece. There’s mountains and flowers but somehow in an abstract kind of way, you tilt your head to the side trying to eye it more carefully.

“Hey, no peeking!” his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest way. You just want to kiss it.

You stand from your stool and walk over to his, your eyes never leaving his art work.

“I’m trying to figure out what I am looking at. Don’t get me wrong, its super cool. But like there’s this beautiful tree with flowers but also shapes??”

“Its abstract, y/n.” his tone is light and makes you flutter. “I like it this way.” He says softly.

“me too.” You look at him, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze shifts to your lips.

“heh really?” Taehyung’s cheeks turn a wonderful shade of pink, like the flowers on his canvas.

“You really are amazing, aren’t you?”

“Me? Let’s see what you got!” He stands from his stool and begins walking over to your art work.

“No!” you stand in his way, your arms flailing above your head. “It’s not good!” You laugh and push his chest back with your hands, Taehyung wobbles in place as he laughs at your dramatics.

“It can’t be that bad.”

You finally let him walk past you, he stands in front of your canvas with his finger on his chin,

“Okay, it can be that bad.”

Taehyung bubbles with laughter and you hit his shoulder but end up laughing with him.

“I told you.” You pout. Taehyung stares at you, his eyes once again shifting towards your lips and you aren’t going to play dumb, of course you’ve noticed.

“What?” you jut your lip out even more, walking just a bit closer to him.

“Nothing, you’re just cute.” Taehyung admits. His long fingers brush against your cheek as he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like, really cute.”

Well, holy shit. Your heart and also your vagina cannot take this.

“How cute?” you breathe out.

“So cute I could kiss you.” Taehyung walks closer, his foot bumping into yours. “But…” He looks down at the ground, guilt beginning to surface, “y/n I have to tell—”

You tilt your head up and meet his lips for a peck on the lips taking him by surprise. Taehyung knits his brows together and is about to say something when he sighs out instead. One of his hands travel to cup the back of your head to bring you closer to him and he kisses you again. He deepens the kiss. Its slow and there’s no tongue, just lips moving tenderly against one another. You feel so light and airy like you could just float away until he abruptly pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” you panic, worry filling your eyes.

“We—we shouldn’t do that.” He finally says after a moment. Why? It was just some kissing between two people who possibly like each other? It’s not like you were delusional right? It’s not like you were making this up in your head. The flowers, the apron, the dinners, the car door, the ‘missing my girl’, the way he treats you can’t just be because of some fake dating bullshit. You know he is known for his kindness but to this extent?

“Why?” you finally say.

“Because,” Taehyung drags a hand across his face, “No one’s around. Let’s just take our pictures—”

BBrrrrrr bbbrrrr brrrrrr bbbrrrr

Taehyung’s phone is sitting on the table next to where the two of you are, it’s going off and you naturally glance over.

Incoming call: Anna

Taehyung races to turn it off, his face flushing and his hands have become sweaty.

“She…she just doesn’t give up.” He chuckles awkwardly, his phone in his grasp as you hear the buzzing of incoming messages.

“Is that her too?” you ask, feeling sorry for him.

“Uh, yeah…probably.” He says, his eyes looking all over the room but never on you.

“Well, let’s see what she’s saying.” You say nonchalantly, reaching for his phone but he yanks his hand back and barks a loud ‘No’. Startled, you step away from him.

“Sorry, I just…” he rubs his neck.

“No no, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have reached for your phone like that…” Something is off, You can feel it. But you want to push that feeling away.

“Let’s just take the pictures, I need to get home soon.”

“Yeah, okay.” Taehyung forces a smile.

~~~

Something is off with Taehyung. The way he wanted to kiss you but then pulled back. The way he got super weird after Anna called. Has she traumatized him that much? Is she like a real, legit stalker who is totally and completely obsessed with him? You feel bad for the guy, he seems like he probably has trust issues or something. Maybe he thinks you might turn out to be like her and he’s scared of that so that’s why he is pushing you away.

That’s gotta be it. You roll around in your bed about to finally get some sleep when you hear music blaring through the wall. Jungkook. You roll your eyes at his choice of timing. The clock reads after midnight, why the hell is he blasting music at this time?

You rise from your bed and storm into his room. Jungkook looks surprised to see you as he is in the middle of doing pushups—shirtless.

His muscles ripple with every movement and it has you practically drooling.

“Uh, can I help you?” Jungkook doesn’t look very annoyed, mostly amused.

“It’s late, Jungkook. Can you turn this shit down?”

“Can’t. Didn’t get a work out in today…so here I am.” He rises to his feet, shrugging.

The music is some horrible rock back that you can’t stand and Jungkook knows this. He fucking knows this. Wow, he really is mad at you still.

“Listen dude,” you put your hands on your hips, “I’ve had a weird day and I just want to relax.”

“Oh baby, I can think of a way for you to relax.” He winks. You want to puke, why is Jungkook so gross.

“Ew.”

“So…how was it?” Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground.

“What?”

“How—how was your date with Taehyung?” he doesn’t raise his eyes, they stay glued to the floor.

“It was…” you get flashbacks to the awkward date, “fine.” You finish, not wanting to give Jungkook any more reason to dislike you and Taehyung together. “Yeah, it was fine” you force a smile.

“You know I know better than anyone when you’re lying.” He says, finally looking at you again.

Fuck. He’s right, if anyone knows you and your lying habits its Jungkook. He can read you like his favorite book. And it’s like, a picture book. Super fucking easy.

“It was fine Jungkook.” You lie again.

“What happened?” his tone eases into something softer, something more comforting and it almost makes you break and tell him the truth. Almost. But not quite.

“Nothing happened. Keep the music down, I’m going to bed.”

Jungkook watches as you spin on your heels to exit his bedroom, his eyes caving and watching your ass the entire time. He has a love-hate relationship with your house shorts, they’re sexy as hell and that’s the problem.

Jungkook turns the volume down on his speakers and sits on the edge of his bed. His head falls into his hands as he thinks about your date with Taehyung. Something must have happened. He knows it. He feels it. But he can’t force you to tell him.

He lays back on his bed and his face hardens as he thinks more about your fake relationship. He wants to beat Taehyungs ass. He wish he could tell you but it’s not his place and he just wishes Taehyung will do the right thing.

While staying loyal to Taehyung is he betraying you?

~~~~

Best friend: “A person you value over other friends in your life, someone you have fun with, someone you trust and someone in whom you confide.” That’s how the dictionary would describe the word but in Jungkook’s dictionary it would just be your cute face. Everything about you is cute to him, the way you walk, talk, dress, sneeze, just everything.

Even when you look gross as hell in the mornings dealing with a nasty hangover he still viewed you as…cute.

When Jungkook first noticed you was in his Literature class that took place on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He knew you always sat in the back and took your notes without really paying him any attention. And not to sound like a cocky bastard but…why not? He obviously thought you were pretty and there was something about you…

The second time he noticed you was at some frat party where he caught you staring at him and he thought he finally might have a chance at talking to you. Or get in your pants at least. He could one and done this situation and move on with his life but much to his surprise you weren’t interested in getting dicked down by him. No, you were interested in just…hanging out. Which he wasn’t use to. Most girls just wanted to say the got with the Jeon Jungkook and don’t pay him any mind for something serious. Because apparently he isn’t the type of guy you could be “serious” with. It’s not like he doesn’t hear the rumors. He hated this honestly…but he guesses it’s his own fault.

He even playfully offered to take you upstairs that night but you refused him. Much too shy. So he got a better idea: the 24 hour diner down the road.

You ended up talking until 9 am the next morning, laughing and snorting, telling tons of stories that cracked the two of you up. He even shared deeply personal information with you that shocked the both of you. But it just felt right—talking to you. He felt like he could open his heart to you, like he was making a real friend.

Jungkook doesn’t have much of a dating history…he mostly just sleeps around and is okay with that—because he has to be. Like what was said earlier, Jungkook isn’t a guy you get “serious” with and all the girls knew that. It just started with one girl spreading the fact he isn’t the type to ‘do’ relationships. He thought this would cause girls to try harder and try to change him or whatever. But none cared enough. He guesses…he just isn’t worth it. Does Jungkook yearn for something more? You wouldn’t know because he has never voiced it. Even though he isn’t lucky in love, he did get super lucky in a friend. That’s you. He cherishes your friendship more than anything in the world and wouldn’t do anything to risk ruining it.

3 years ago

“What about you?” you smile at him with all your teeth, “What are your parents like?”

You didn’t know at the time but this question made Jungkook feel the very dread he avoids feeling.

He looked into your wide eyes and couldn’t help the sigh that escapes his lips.

“Dad cheated the whole time and moms not around anymore.” Jungkook picks at his cuticles.

You felt a pang of guilt for bringing it up…but you were too curious to stop.

“Where did she go?” you can’t seem to stop yourself from asking.

Jungkook pauses his bad habit, his fingers coming to a halt.

“Can we change the subject?” he finally says, a small smile spreading across his lips, “It’s like, uh…a touchy subject. Ya know?” he almost looks as if he feels bad that he can’t confide in you.

“I promise I will tell you about it someday.” He swears with his pinky joining your pinky. You felt content with his answer but somehow you knew he probably never would.

Jungkook lays in his bed with his head dangling off the edge. Its 10 at night and you’re still not back. You had another date with Taehyung today—he knows because he follows the both of you on Instagram and you posted a photo of Taehyung in front of a mural that’s located just downtown. He grabs his phone to check your location and unfortunately you are still in the same spot—Taehyungs apartment. He hates this. Why does he hate this? Because Taehyung doesn’t deserve you and what he’s doing is not right. But he can’t tell you that because none of this is his business. Instead all he does is piss you off and he hates himself for it.

He truly thinks the world of you, he truly wants nothing but the best for you and he truly loves you. You’re his best friend.

Jungkook starts to doze off when he hears the front door being unlocked. It’s you.

Quickly, Jungkook jumps to his feet and scurries to his bedroom door and places his ear over the wood. He hears you talking…then another voice. You’re not alone. Its muffled but he makes out what you’re saying.

“It was amazing T,” oh, you’re with Trina. “He got me flowers, took pictures of me and got all my best angles.” He hears you giggling then another voice joins you in your laughter.

“I told you! This was a great idea!” Trina says, Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“He was such a gentlemen the whole time and it…I know it’s not real but I don’t know man…it feels real sometimes.”

“Girl, he would be stupid not to have a thing for you.” For once, Trina and Jungkook agree on something.

“I would actually kill myself if he did!” you giggle.

Jungkook goes rigid at your words, his jaw clenching so hard it ticks. He hates when you say shit like that, it creates a suffocating bubble around him that’s too hard to pop.

Jungkook decides he’s eavesdropped enough and settles back on his bed. He lays back, his arms folded behind him. He feels beyond frustrated and doesn’t know what could cure this. Well, maybe sex? Maybe he should call up some girl…maybe that could make him feel better. But somehow that didn’t appeal to him so much in this moment when his brain is occupied of you. So he settles for himself. It’s been a while since Jungkook gave himself a handy but he’s not opposed of going for it.

The lights are off and Jungkook is deciding if he wants to watch porn or settle for his imagination. A girl he use to hook up with enters his mind and he decides to roll with it, he dips his hands underneath his boxers to feel up his hardening length. He reaches for his nightstand to squirt some lube in his hand, his cock is only half hard by the time he’s gently stroking himself. The skin on his cock is smooth with few veins decorating the length, he’s already leaking precum while his imagination starts up.

He thinks of this girl and her lips, how she looks with them wrapped around his greedy cock and he becomes even harder. Fuck, he can’t remember her name—a piece of shit move but he doesn’t care at this point. He’s stroking himself faster, gathering the precum at his tip and smearing it around. A light moan escapes his lips as he tugs on the head of his cock harder. His other hand drags his boxers down his legs as his continues to stroke himself and then reaches to fondle his balls. He groans at the sensation.

He then thinks of the girls ass in the air, her wiggling it around and begging him to fuck her. Her ass is round and plump, it jiggles slightly as she squirms below him. His hand moves quickly as his thoughts get dirtier. He doesn’t see her face just her ass and her voice sounds a lot like…yours. Fuck, he can’t be thinking of you right now. He’s pissed at you, his thoughts growing angry yet somehow his hand doesn’t stop. He’s so close it fucking hurts.

“Fuck…y/n..” he whimpers into his shoulder. He now sees your face, underneath him, your hair all splayed out. Your lips are swollen and you whine for him, begging for him to fuck into you faster. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut at that image, his hand stroking him impossibly fast as he is beginning to lose all composure. He shouldn’t be thinking of you right now, or ever—not like this. But he hears you beg for him, he imagines flipping you over, demanding you to raise your ass in the air. You beg to be punished, you beg for him to spank you, and he does. He pulls his hand back and slaps your needy ass and you whimper. He does it again and again.

He sees himself insert his cock into your pussy and he’s thrusting in and out like his life depends on it. Jungkook’s hand squeezes desperately around his throbbing member, he cries out quietly as he fucks you in his mind.

He imagines you reaching your own high, your moans and screams ringing in his ears and that’s what sets him over the edge. His cum spurts out of his swollen cock, spraying all over his hand as he begins to come to a stop on himself.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck” Jungkook is out of breath, his fantasy too much for him to handle. “What the fuck did I just….”

He sits in complete silence as his breathing comes down. Did he just? He is not supposed to do that.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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after-witch · 3 years

Text

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit.

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend?

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave. You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off.

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right?

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that�� you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful. He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #yandere ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #knives out #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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verai-marcel · 3 years

Text

Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

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"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car.

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car.

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind.

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you.

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up.

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western.

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful.

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner.

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him.

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion.

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep.

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it.

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex.

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck.

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching.

"Hey Mister!" you yelled.

He turned towards you.

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?"

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on.

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said.

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you.

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you.

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger.

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen.

You followed him willingly into his den.

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets.��

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name.

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life.

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped.

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly.

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him.

"You think you can take more, darlin'?"

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge.

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before.

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure.

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could.

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side.

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips.

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

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

End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #nsft #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #writing #lemon fanfic #fanfic

116 notes · View notes

sleepysnk · 3 years

Text

hey y'all! i decided to make a fic for our lovely Jean boy. i got this idea after Sunday's episode :(, he deserves so much love right now. this is the longest fic i've written, so i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Close the Gap

Pairings: Jean Kirstein x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: None just fluff

Long distances relationships were always something many people tended to avoid.

The idea of a long distance relationship made (Y/N) feel queasy, her stomach would always churn at the idea of dating somebody who was miles away from her. She heard the many scary stories from her friends about these people not being who they said they were, or the horror stories of girls going missing after meeting with these people.

Not to mention she always binged watched MTV'S Catfish the TV Show at 3 A.M. watching how people would get catfished. The show was another reason why she tended to avoid dating anyone who was pretty far away. Her worst fear was to find that the person she trusted wasn't who they said they were.

That all changed seven months ago when she met him.

More specifically, Jean Kirstein.

(Y/N) was feeling pretty lonely, she was desperate for a relationship at the time and her best friend Sasha told her about some dating apps she could use. She wasn't exactly down to set her up with one of her friends. (Y/N) took the offer on the dating app and set up a profile.

She met a few decent guys, but they always ended up sending the usual "send me some pics" or "u down to hook up?" texts. Most of the guys on the apps were idiots who were looking just for a quick fuck or something short term, which isn't something (Y/N) wanted.

She complained to Sasha about it and even considered just deleting the apps, but she told her to just give it one more shot.

She was glad she did.

(Y/N) was swiping through the different guys on the app. Some caught her eye or some made her face scrunch with disgust.

Her swiping stopped when her eyes landed on him. She was instantly attracted to him, his sharp jawline, shaggy light brown hair which was a bit long, his golden brown eyes, toned chest and that goddamn smile. He had a sly smile that made her feel butterflies.

After she looked at his profile she was hooked. He seemed like a really sweet guy based on his description. He knew how to cook, draw, he played sports, worked out, etc. He also seemed really sweet as well.

She was tempted to text him first, but she decided not to. The few times she did message a guy first it ended with the guy being dry, or sending some gross messages complimenting her body rather than her face.

She totally forgot that day that she added him until she got the notification.

Jean: hey! i saw your profile and let me just say you are gorgeous ❤

From that day forward the two talked every night, they spent many nights texting until they both felt tired, exchanging social media as well. She learned a lot about him, Jean was a fitness major at his university and he wanted to be a personal trainer. They connected on a lot of things, they had a lot of the same likes and dislikes which made the conversations they had even greater.

She told Jean about the many shitty experiences she had with guys and how she was very hesitant to even give him a chance. Jean shared a lot of the same stories, he had gotten cheated on about a year prior before getting the app. (Y/N) felt bad for him, why cheat on a nice guy like Jean?

Facetiming him was definitely one of her favorite things to do, she told him about how freaked out she was about trying online dating due to how easy it was to fake an online personality. Jean assured her that was not the case and he wasn't a fake person at all.

Seeing his face on facetime made her heart swell, he was 10x more attractive on facetime than his photos. He had this amazing smile that made her feel weak, and whenever he laughed she found herself having butterflies. Jean thought the same about (Y/N), he thought she was absolutely gorgeous and he wanted to see her face a lot more.

He always threw a flirt her way whenever he could, Jean was smooth like that. He told her if she was ever unsure of an outfit that she was to send him a picture, and when she did, he was absolutely speechless. Sending the usual heart eyes and telling her how beautiful she was. His words always made her smile.

While things were perfect for them, there was one small issue.

They both lived very far from each other.

Opposite coasts to be exact.

Jean lived on the East coast while (Y/N) lived on the west. They lived miles away from each other, and although it wasn't a huge bother, it always made her feel lonely.

Jean felt the same way, he felt lonely being so far away from her. Parts of him wished he lived closer so he could just drive and see her, but with how far it is, he knew it would probably be a very long drive and he just didn't have the time for that. Nor did (Y/N).

They spent many nights talking about dates they'd go on, things they'd do, etc. Jean told her how he would so make a meal for her and he'd take her to meet his mom. All those things sounded so nice, she wanted it to happen so bad.

But they just lived too far from one another.

Plus they both had very busy schedules, both were too caught up with assignments and their own personal lives that flying out wouldn't be exactly a good idea.

It was unfortunate, but that was the reality of the situation.

Even with all of that, they still held onto one another. For some reason, Jean didn't want to let her slip by. For the first time, she made him genuinely happy. (Y/N) felt the same way towards Jean, she always found herself being excited to see his name pop up in her phone or when he asked to facetime. There was just something about this boy she didn't want to let go of. He was the only guy who saw her for who she was, and not just her body.

Neither of them wanted to let this opportunity slip by.

Here they were, seven months later. They still kept up with each other every day, though having not met yet, the feelings they both had never changed.

They weren't dating, but they only talked to each other. Neither had wandering eyes.

It was a usual night for the two of them, (Y/N) and Jean were on facetime while she did homework and Jean sat playing video games. She didn't mind the gaming, it was something he liked to do so why dislike it?

She was copying notes when her eyes averted upwards towards her phone screen which was propped up. Jean was shirtless sitting in his chair, he had his headset on his head with one of the earmuffs behind his ear. He was focused on the game, his brows pinching together a few times as he played.

A giggle escaped her lips, making Jean look down at his phone with a smile.

"What are you giggling about?" he asked, bringing his face close to the camera.

She smiled. "Oh nothin' you just look really cute playing your game," she replied and set her pen down on the desk.

He licked his lips and leaned back against his chair, eyeing the screen. "I'd say you look pretty damn fine doing homework," he replied, raising his brows.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, rolling her eyes in the process. "Ugh shush! I look like a total mess," she said and looked away from the screen.

Jean chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nah.. you look like the girl who's gonna have my last name," he replied, smirking.

Her jaw dropped from his comment, a smile grew onto her lips as her cheeks felt hot. He was smooth like that.

"You are quite smooth," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Another chuckle escaped his throat. "Yeah I'm smooth.. only for you though," he said, winking at the camera.

"You're adorable.. I wish you were here so I could squeeze your cheeks," she said and played with her pen.

Jean nodded. "I wish I was there with you too.." he said, looking down at the ground. "I'd like my cheeks squeezed but I'd want to squeeze yours.. if you know what I mean," he added.

She started laughing a bit. "Ugh Jean I never get tired of you," she replied, looking at her phone screen. "Will you ever be here?" she asked.

Jean fell silent and leaned back against the chair. A sigh escaping his lips. "I have no idea (Y/N).. my schedule has been busy lately, plus I don't really have the funds to fly out anytime soon." he replied, his voice filled with disappointment.

She felt a slight tug at her heart, she knew they probably wouldn't meet for a long time. Many of her friends told her that Jean wasn't worth her time at all and that she needed someone who could come see her. Her friends also said it's not worth it at all and that he'd probably end up hooking up with some girl, and totally forgetting about her. That's something she absolutely didn't want to think about.

"(Y/N)? You alright?" Jean asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head, blinking a few times. "Y-Yeah! Sorry, I zoned out.." she replied and smiled a bit.

He put his controller on his desk, he stared at the screen for a few moments. "You know (Y/N) I really want to meet you, trust me I do. I know how much it bothers you that we can't at the moment, but I promise you, we will meet some day." he said with a serious expression.

She felt her heart swell at his words, Jean always knew what to say to make her feel like a princess. Jean always said from day one that they would meet, it was a promise he had yet to fulfill, but he told her to never worry and that he'll make it happen. She just has to believe him.

"I trust your words Jean," she said, smiling a bit.

A grin grew onto his face. "Ugh.. this is why I want to meet you so bad. I wanna see that pretty smile in person," he said and leaned against his desk.

Her cheeks felt hot from his words. "You're too sweet," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

Jean chuckled. "Sweet enough for you,"

Suddenly, (Y/N) heard her bedroom door fly open.

"Hey (Y/N)!- Oh crap.. did I interrupt something?"

Her head snapped back to see her best friend Sasha standing in the doorway.

"Oh not at all Sash, I was just talking to Jean." (Y/N) replied, looking back at the camera.

Sasha grinned widely, she knew who he was ever since they started talking. Jean was cool with her, he felt like first impressions with friends are always important.

"Hey Jean!" Sasha yelled, coming down to her phone. "Ooo.. (Y/N) he's shirtless for you," she teased, elbowing her side.

Her jaw dropped as her cheeks grew hot again. "Can you not! Why are you even here anyway?" she asked, looking up at her friend.

"Uh duh, I'm here to discuss Valentine's Day plans! You know.. Connie and stuff," she replied in a whisper.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh fine! Hey Jean, is it cool if I call you back later? Sash here needs boy advice," she asked, grabbing her phone.

Jean smiled. "Yeah totally.. text me okay? Be safe." he replied.

She felt a wide smile grow onto her cheeks. "I most definitely will!" she said, hanging up the call.

Sasha leaned against the wall with a giant smirk on her face. (Y/N) looked up, her head nodding as she was confused as to why she was acting like that.

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

A giggle escaped Sasha's lips. "Oh nothing! Ugh (Y/N)! When are you finally going to meet Jean? Have you guys even made it official yet?" she asked.

She looked down. "No.. we haven't made it official. We aren't dating Sasha, we're just talking and stuff." she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe it's time you do it! You've been talking for months, and I feel like it's a good time. Especially with Valentine's Day and all," she said.

(Y/N) wasn't sure if what Sasha was saying was a good idea. How the hell would she even ask out Jean? Over a facetime call? That sounded boring. It also sounded too cliche and not special at all.

"I would Sash but asking him out over a phone just sounds so.. middle school," she replied and stood up. "It's not like I can fly out and ask him out or whatever," she added.

A grin was displayed onto Sasha's face. "I guess you're right," she said and shrugged her shoulders.

"Now come on… let's go discuss things for Connie," (Y/N) said, pushing past her.

Sasha grinned again, following her friend.

(Y/N) spent most of the week helping Sasha with her Valentine's Day gift for Connie. Sasha had some odd ideas, but eventually they came to an agreement on a decent idea.

For some reason, things felt off with Jean.

The past few days she noticed a change in his behavior, he became a little less interested in their conversations and his replies were a bit dry. Of course she blamed it on him maybe being tired from classes or working out, but she wasn't exactly sure if that was the reason. She questioned it a few times, but Jean usually replied with a 'wym?'.

"(Y/N)!? Hello? Come on help me finish this,"

Sasha's voice broke her out of the thoughts she was having. "Sorry! What's up?" she asked, blinking a bit.

Sasha put the bag of snacks down. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting weird all day," she said and crossed her arms.

(Y/N) sighed. "Yes I'm fine Sasha," she replied and leaned back in her chair.

She nodded her head and sat back down in front of her. "Alright.. can you just organize this for me?" she asked, tossing the bag towards her.

(Y/N) grabbed the stuff and began to sort through the items Sasha bought Connie. She wasn't exactly alright, she was feeling lonely the past few days. She saw all of her friends getting ready for Valentine's Day with their significant others, while she didn't have anybody. The pink and red boxes of chocolates, the teddy bears, roses, everything! It made her feel lonely and with Jean's behavior… it didn't exactly make it better.

She looked at her phone which displayed no messages from Jean. For some reason he hasn't been messaging her a lot lately.

2:31 P.M.<- (Y/N): hey :))

4:23 P.M.<- (Y/N): i hope your day is going well! ♡

She sighed and went back to the gift for Connie.

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day, (Y/N)?" Sasha asked and looked up at her.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably just watching Netflix movies," she replied with disappointment in her voice.

She nodded her head. "What!? No! You're not gonna do that on my watch. Why don't you come hangout with Connie and I?" she asked.

A laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah I so wanna do that. Watching you two make out and eat is so much fun," she replied in a teasing voice.

Sasha blushed. "Oh shut up! Come on.. I know you won't have anyone to hang with," she said and pouted a bit.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I can always call up Eren or something," she said and laughed a bit.

Sasha hit her arm. "No! You're hanging with me and that's final! Plus why would you wanna hangout with Eren? He'd probably take you to some party," she said.

"Yeah you're probably right," (Y/N) replied, chewing her lip.

She threw her a smile. "Exactly!" she said and went to go look at her phone.

(Y/N) looked on her own phone as she felt disappointed seeing no messages from Jean. She hated double texting him, she felt like she was a bother and that she was annoying him. Maybe he just didn't have his phone on him.

A sudden squeal came from Sasha, which made (Y/N) look up in surprise.

"Uh.. are you okay?" she asked and blinked a bit.

Sasha looked at her, composing herself. "Oh- u-um! Yeah totally, Connie was just telling me something. That's all," she replied and looked down at her phone.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh Connie.." she said, shaking her head.

The next two days were kind of difficult for (Y/N). Jean had totally changed his behavior, he was more dry, took longer to respond, and even on their facetime call he didn't seem very interested. If she did want to facetime, he would claim he was busy or he didn't exactly seem to pay attention.

Her mind raced with different thoughts about the situation. What if Jean was getting tired of her? What if this was the situation all of her friends told her about? How guys who live far end up leaving you for someone who lives near them. It hurt to think about.

"I don't know his behavior just changed!"

She was currently ranting to Sasha who came over for a bit. "He's been dry? I mean.. Connie can be dry," she replied, playing with her pillow.

"No like overly dry, Jean is never dry! He always keeps the conversation going, he doesn't even send me good morning texts anymore either!" she said and sat up.

Sasha nodded as she listened to her words. "Have you tried asking at all?" she asked.

(Y/N) sighed. "I did on facetime and he sort of dodged the question," she replied.

"I dunno (Y/N).. maybe just see what happens? Maybe he's got some personal stuff going on" Sasha said.

(Y/N) shrugged. "Couldn't say.."

A sudden ping from Sasha's phone made her ears chirp, she reached over and looked at her phone. She started jumping around excitedly.

"What? What happened?" (Y/N) asked, furrowing her brows.

Sasha looked at her. "I gotta go! Connie texted me about something.. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said, shoving her phone in her pocket.

She felt confused as to why Sasha was leaving. "Uh.. yeah, okay. See you later," she replied and watched as Sasha exited her room and out the front door.

She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling as her mind clouded with thoughts about Jean. Her mind was playing scenarios she didn't want to see, Jean finding someone else would absolutely crush her. In a way, it would be for the best, considering they haven't even met, but she was in too deep with feelings. She didn't want anybody else.

She grabbed her phone, she opened their messages and scrolled to see if there was anything she could have said to make him upset. Jean was always one to communicate with her, he'd always tell her if he was having a bad day or someone pissed him off. Why wasn't he doing that now? Her eyes scanned over the most recent message she sent.

7:21 P.M.<- (Y/N): did you go working out? i bet you're getting those gains! <3 lol.

Another sigh escaped her lips reading the words 'delivered'. What was going with him?

It was Valentine's Day.

(Y/N) wasn't exactly in the best mood today, that feeling of loneliness lingered in her mind as she scrolled through different couples getting gifts and going on special dates. All the things she yearned for.

She sent Jean a message that morning and of course, he didn't respond. He read her messages from the previous night, but he never sent a genuine response. It made her heart feel heavy, maybe this was it. Maybe Jean just got tired of waiting around for her and found someone better.

She shoved her phone into her pocket as she knocked on the door of Sasha's apartment. She looked around as many people exited their apartments.

"Hey! You made it! We have all kinds of snacks!" Sasha yelled, opening the door so she could come inside.

(Y/N) smiled and stepped in. The aroma of food filled her nose. "Wow Sasha.. this smells great," she said, taking off her shoes.

Connie came in from the living room holding a plate. "Hey (Y/N)! Good to see you," he said and waved at her.

She smiled as she plopped down at the kitchen table, she grabbed a few pieces of candy and tossed them into her mouth. She tried to forget the upsetting thoughts for the night.

"You want something to eat?" Sasha asked as she came over with a plate of food.

(Y/N) shook her head. "I'm fine.. thank you Sasha," she replied, looking down at the table.

Connie came over and set a cup of soda in front of her. "Have something to drink at least," he said and sat next to Sasha.

She swirled around the soda that bubbled towards the top. "Thanks.." she replied and took a sip of the lemon flavored soda.

The two started eating and (Y/N) sat there looking at her phone, she silently hoped that Jean would message her back. It had been a few hours since she sent her last message, she felt disappointment going through her veins. She guessed that Jean was ghosting her, it hurt a ton, but there wasn't much she could do.

"(Y/N)! Connie loved the gift!" Sasha said and wiped her mouth with the napkin.

She nodded and gave a small smile. "Oh that's cool! I'm glad you liked it," she replied and looked towards Connie.

He smiled. "Yeah it was dope! It had all my favorite snacks," he said, looking at Sasha with a grin.

(Y/N) felt the heaviness in her heart, she wished someone would look at her the way Connie looked at Sasha.

"Hey what about that Jean guy you were talking to? I meant to ask," Connie asked and looked at her.

She laughed a bit. "Uh.. well I don't know what's going on with that. He's been kind of distant lately so I guess he's getting tired of me. It's understandable I guess.." she replied, looking down at the floor.

They could hear the sorrow in her voice. "I'm sorry (Y/N).. you'll find someone, I know you will." Sasha said.

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know guys.. I feel like after this I just wanna focus on me," she said, taking out her phone.

Connie looked over at her. "Don't say that now.. come on, have some hope." he said and gave a playful smile.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll try," she replied.

Sasha and Connie finished up their food and cleaned the dishes, (Y/N) sat on the couch as the movie played on the tv. It was some romantic movie which she didn't even bother to pay attention to, she didn't exactly want to watch one at the moment.

Sasha appeared in the living room, she had her phone in her hand. "Hey whatcha doing?" she asked, leaning over to look at her phone.

"Oh nothing, just scrolling through Instagram," (Y/N) replied and clicked her phone off.

A ping went off as Sasha got a notification, she looked at her phone as a grin displayed on her features making (Y/N) curious.

"Did Connie send you nudes in the bathroom or something?" she asked and began to laugh.

A blush crept onto Sasha's cheeks. "What!? Absolutely not! You're so gross (Y/N)!" she yelled, hitting her arm. "Let's play a game, I'm bored." she added and stood up.

(Y/N) nodded. "A game? Sasha I'm not twelve.." she said and leaned against the couch.

Sasha came in with what seemed to be a blindfold. "Come on! It's fun okay? You just have to feel something and guess what it is," she said, crossing her arms.

"A blindfold? Jeez Sash.. didn't know you and Connie were into blindfolds," she said, starting to laugh.

Sasha hit her arm playfully. "Shut up! No I'm not into blindfolds.. you're gross! Just come here," she said and waved her over.

(Y/N) stood up and tossed her phone onto the couch. She walked over to Sasha who seemed excited to play, she hoped that this game wouldn't be weird.

"Alright.. let's get started," Sasha said, going behind her to tie the blindfold over her eyes.

She faintly heard the sound of the front door opening, she was confused as to who came in. Then she remembered Connie went to go throw out the garbage, so she figured it was Connie coming back in.

"Okay first thing!" Sasha said and held out the item for her to touch.

(Y/N)'s fingers brushed over the item, it felt cold. It felt like plastic too, was it a box? It felt smooth.

"Is this like.. a box or something?" she asked, looking around with the blindfold on.

She heard giggles and laughs coming from Connie and Sasha. "Yeah it's a box! Here's the next item," Sasha said.

Her fingers brushed over the soft material, it felt velvety and smooth. It felt like petals from a flower.

"Are these flowers?" she asked.

"Damn (Y/N)! You're good at this! Here's the last thing," Connie said, his voice sounding faded.

She furrowed her brows as she heard whispering and shuffling, she was tempted to remove the blindfold to see if they were playing a prank.

"Okay here," Sasha said.

She reached out feeling something hard, it felt like.. a chest? Her brows furrowed again as she ran her fingers along it.

"Sasha is this your chest? Connie is definitely not this muscular," (Y/N) asked, looking around for their voices.

Sasha giggled. "No it's not me! You can take your blindfold off in a sec," she said, taking out her phone.

(Y/N) felt nervous as she kept her hands on the person's chest, they felt warm and she could feel their heart racing against her skin.

"Okay now!" Sasha yelled.

(Y/N) removed her blindfold, letting her eyes adjust. When she looked up she was faced with the honey eyes of the person she least expected.

It was Jean.

Her jaw dropped as her hands slapped over her mouth, she couldn't believe it. He held in his hands flowers and a box of chocolate, the flowers being her favorite. Roses. He stood there smiling at her reaction, she looked back seeing Sasha recording and Connie laughing.

"You're real.." (Y/N) said, looking at Jean with wide eyes.

He smiled. "I'm real," he replied, opening his arms for her.

She tackled him with a bone crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her waist surrounding her in his embrace. She inhaled his scent and let his warmth engulf her.

Tears welled in her hues as she put her hands onto his face. "Pinch me please.." she said and laughed a bit.

Jean chuckled, cupping her cheek. "I don't think you're dreaming," he replied, pulling her closer.

"This is so cute I feel like a proud mom," Sasha said as she kept recording.

(Y/N) looked back. "H-How? How did you get him here?" she asked and nodded.

Connie rubbed the back of his neck. "We actually were both in on it, we paid for his ticket and everything. He's staying at my place actually," he said, smiling at her.

"Sasha planned the game too," Jean added and looked towards the brunette.

(Y/N) pulled Sasha into a tight hug. "I literally love you right now," she said as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.

"Uh (Y/N)! I think you should be the one telling him that," Sasha said, pointing at Jean.

She came back over to Jean who handed her the flowers. "Someone as beautiful as you are deserves these in person. Happy Valentine's Day beautiful," he said, smiling down at her.

She laughed as she took the flowers, her heart swelling. "Thank you really.." she replied, pulling him into another hug.

He put his arms around her, he felt his heart flutter as he felt her touch. "Do you want to..?"

"Get out of here?" she asked, nodding.

The two looked back at Sasha and Connie. "Knock yourselves out! Don't have too much fun (Y/N).." Connie said and smirked devilishly.

Heat rushed onto her cheeks. "I'd like to say the same to you both," Jean said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

Connie and Sasha both turned red. "Okay! Bye Jean and (Y/N)! Have fun!" Sasha said and ran out of the room.

They both turned to one another, laughs escaping both of their lips. "Let's go," she said, fishing around her pockets for her car keys.

Jean followed her out of Sasha's apartment building to her car, his hands brushing over her fingers a few times making her cheeks hot.

Once in the car, she began the drive back to her apartment. She couldn't keep her eyes off Jean, he looked so much better in person. All of his features stood out, his jawline, his hair, and his amazing eyes.

"You know.. you're 100x more beautiful in person," Jean said, breaking the silence between them.

She smiled. "Thank you… you're 100x more handsome," she replied and looked over at the passenger side.

Jean felt his cheeks grow red from her words. "I never thought in a million years I'd meet you this soon," he said and leaned back in his seat.

She laughed a bit. "I could say the same.. Sasha told me nothing about this," she replied, turning the steering wheel.

A chuckle erupted in his throat. "It was meant to be kept secret. Connie and Sasha both messaged me about it and I was in," he said.

"I thought you were ghosting me at first.. I was so bummed at her house,"

Jean looked over at her. "Oh never.. I'd never ghost you. Connie told me to just put distance so it wouldn't seem weird," he said, brushing his fingers over her arm.

Tingles ran around her body as he touched her. "I should have known something was up," she said and shook her head. "Anyway, we're here." she added, taking off her seatbelt.

Jean exited the car with her. He followed her up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and removed her shoes, Jean stepped in and eyed the room. She kept it clean and organized.

"Nice place," Jean said and smiled at her.

She looked back at him. "Oh thank you.. it means a lot," she replied, placing his gifts on the counter.

The two stood there for a moment just taking in their appearances. She felt her heart racing as Jean stood there eyeing her.

"So um.. what do you wanna do?" Jean asked, looking down at her.

She leaned against the wall. "I dunno.. maybe we can watch a movie in bed?" she asked, nodding.

"Sounds like a plan.. I gotta call Connie. He needs to drop my shit off in the morning if I'm sleeping here," he said and took out his phone.

(Y/N) rocked on her heels. "Sounds good! Um.. I'll be right back, I'm gonna change." she replied and made her way to her room.

Jean texted Connie and within seconds he responded with an 'ok'. He walked towards the room where (Y/N) was, her room was decorated nicely. She knew how to keep it clean. He noticed the familiar sights he used to see on facetime.

She came from the bathroom wearing shorts and a t-shirt. "Come sit," she said and hopped on her bed.

Jean felt stiff, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable or make any moves that were too quick.

"So uh… what kind of movie do you wanna watch?" he asked, looking at her nervously.

"Hmm.. horror?" she replied, looking back at him as she turned on the tv.

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said and leaned back against the pillows on her bed.

She put on one of the horror movies and lied down next to him, her hands brushed over his arm veins. She traced lines where his muscles were. Goosebumps littered onto his skin feeling her touch.

"Don't be so stiff.. you aren't going to hurt me," (Y/N) said leaning up a bit.

He felt his nerves loosen up at her words. "Sorry.. I just don't wanna come off as a creep," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

She giggled, moving his arm so it was now around her waist. "You aren't a creep to me at all," she said, laying her head on his chest.

Jean's grip on her waist tightened as he brought her body closer to his. He imagined nights like these for so long, his arms around her holding her close so she never slips away.

She felt so warm next to him.

As the night went on, (Y/N) felt her eyes become droopy. She started to snooze against his chest, Jean smiled hearing her small snores and the way she twitched. He turned off the lamp and pulled the covers over the two of them.

The next morning Jean was awoken by (Y/N) moving out of his embrace. Her eyes trying to get used to the light that shone into her room, she grabbed her phone, the time reading 10:12 A.M.

She turned over to look at Jean who was awake. A giggle escaped her lips as she cuddled back into him.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said and traced his muscles with her fingers.

He squeezed the flesh of her waist. "Don't worry about it," he replied and lied his chin onto her head. "What do you wanna do today, beautiful?" he asked.

She sighed. "Do you wanna just relax and chill? We don't have to go anywhere," she replied, looking up at him.

"Sounds fine by me," Jean said, staring up at the ceiling.

The two lied there for a few minutes before deciding to get dressed and ready for the day, Jean noticed his suitcases were at the front door. (Y/N) told him that Sasha had a spare key so she most likely stopped by while they were asleep. It made him laugh but also a little weirded out.

They both changed and lied around (Y/N)'s place, they took many photos together and goofed off. She never felt happier than she did in those moments, Jean didn't want to stop touching her. He loved feeling her smooth skin against his, he held her hand or brushed against her arm. Not in a creepy way of course.

It was around 6:30 in the afternoon, Jean and (Y/N) messed around in her apartment for most of the day. Watching movies, ordering food, taking photos, etc. It had been an amazing day.

"Hey Jean.." (Y/N) said, reaching up to play with the strands of his hair.

He looked down at her. "What's up?" he asked.

She smiled. "Do you wanna go to the pier near my house? We can watch the sunset," she asked, nodding her head.

His face lit up with excitement. "Hell yes! Let's go right now," he replied.

The two rushed out of the apartment and went to her car, the sun was going to set pretty soon, so they wanted to get to the pier at a decent time to see it all.

The car ride was fun, the two blasted music and sang along with the words.

Eventually, the two arrived at the pier. Many people walked along the sidewalks with each other, the summer air felt nice. Jean held her hand as they made their way up to the dock, some people leaned along the sides talking with one another.

The sun shined onto their faces, Jean's honey eyes looked like pure gold as the sun passed through them.

The tide from the waves crashed below them the seagulls flew in the sky or onto the ground.

"It's so pretty.." (Y/N) said, smiling as she leaned against the railing staring at the setting sun.

Jean admired the sky as it was painted with purples and oranges. "Yeah.. but not as pretty as you are," he said and held her hand in his.

She looked absolutely stunning to him. The way the sun shined over her skin and the way the wind lightly blew along her hair made his heart swell.

She was truly the most beautiful girl he ever laid his eyes on.

"I always imagined coming here with you.. it was my dream date," she said and smiled.

Jean took her hand into his. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Of course Jean," she replied and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face.

He let out a shaky breath. "(Y/N)... I never thought I'd ever get to meet you, but now that I have I realized how amazing you are. You're so beautiful.. don't even get me started on your smile either. You've made today so great and I've been meaning to ask you this question for so long. My feelings for you are strong and I can't imagine my life without you by my side," he said. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

She felt her heart burst at his words, she couldn't deny what she felt for Jean. "Yes! Yes!" she replied, putting her arms around his neck.

He smiled as he put his arms around her waist. "I love you.." he whispered.

Her eyes went wide. "I love you too.." she said, leaning into his face and pressing her lips onto his.

The kiss was passionate, his lips felt smooth and soft. It took her breath away.

"I promise I'll make you feel like a princess," Jean said and cupped her cheek. "I'll never let you go," he added.

She felt small tears form into her eyes. "I'll never let you go either," she said and smiled at him.

They stood there for awhile watching as the sun slowly disappeared behind the clouds, the sky painted in bright oranges and dark blues.

Arriving back home they both rushed up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked it and pulled him into a heated kiss, the kiss feeling hot.

Jean made his way to the couch, his hands on her hips. "I didn't know you were this good of a kisser.." he whispered, smirking as he kissed her.

"I guess we're both full of surprises," she replied and put her arms around his neck.

He sat down on the couch, her thighs on either side of his legs. "Wait.." Jean said, breaking the kiss between them. "I need to mention one more thing," he added, looking up at her.

She nodded. "What's up?" she asked.

He felt a smile grow onto his lips. "I know I leave in two days but.. I wanted to let you know that I was pricing apartments around here as well as schooling.. and I found out I got accepted," he said.

Her jaw dropped hearing the news. "What!? No way! You're lying! Does that mean.." she said.

"I won't be far away anymore my love," he replied, cupping her cheek. "It's gonna take awhile for me to move in, but I should be here by the end of next month."

She felt excitement coursing through her. "That's great!" she said.

"I mean it when I say it that I do love you (Y/N).. it's not me saying that to impress you, I truly do." he said, smiling at her. "I can't imagine myself with anyone else. I want a future with you," he added.

She felt a smile grow onto her cheeks. "I love you too Jean… I want you with me forever," she said, running her fingers along his face.

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. "Your wish is granted baby," he said and pressed his lips against hers.

She giggled, leaning down towards him. "What do you say we celebrate?" she asked, smirking.

He eyed her hungrily. "Oh you wanna be like that huh? Consider it your special Valentine's Day treat," he replied, bringing her body close to his.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #Jean Kirschstein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #ugh i loved this

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celestialrry · 3 years

Text

bunny

6.3k

summary: Harry's shy and you need a tutor.

warnings: like none, cursing?, severe fluff

You rushed into class, and scrambled over to sit in your chair, huffing as the clock struck 9:00 a.m. the moment you touched the seat. Why you signed up for a morning class you knew you would never want to wake up for is beyond you. Why the class you were taking was about English literature, a genre you had only read less than 3 books in was also beyond you. Being undecided in your major didn’t have many perks, you had come to find.

“Alright class, first things first, you’ll be having a test in this class next week about what we studied this past month.”

As your professor droned on, your heartbeat started to pick up. A month into your second year of university and you already had a test? This was absolute torture. You were psyching yourself out at this point, almost positive you would fail, until you zoned back into class to hear a deep voice speaking.

The boy with the curls almost reaching his shoulders in the back of the class, Harry, you thought. He was terrifying and intimidating, but he raised his hand almost every other question and got it right. Always. He was the answer to all of your problems. The one who always wore those tattered brown Chelsea boots and long coats. You had even seen a peek of tattoos on his hand once.

The rest of class was spent thinking of ways to ask him to tutor you. So far, you would suggest to pay him for his time, do it only when he’s available (you would switch your schedule around for him, you were already going to ask a lot of him), and just try to be really nice. You always tried not to judge on looks, but Harry seemed quite scary, and you were afraid he’d turn you down immediately.

Soon class was dismissed and you grabbed your trusty bag (it had survived multiple sleepovers at Niall’s and that boy could destroy anything by just touching it) and slung it over your shoulder, looking to see Harry walking out of the classroom. You hurried over to him out of the doors and caught up to him. “Hi, um, Harry?” You asked, and he stopped in his tracks.

He looked back at you and his eyes widened. He had to look back down for a moment so you couldn’t see him flush out of surprise. He looked back up at you and smiled softly. “Hello.” Harry mumbled, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. No one really ever spoke to Harry all that much. People just never approached him and he had no idea why (his friends had tried to clue him in that he did seem a bit intimidating with his brows furrowed almost all the time, his body littered with tattoos, and the fact that he’s quite a buff guy, but you couldn’t really tell from his oversized sweaters that he seems to wear every single day, but that’s besides the point) and it confused him a bit. It also made him a bit shy around anyone he didn’t already know, because he didn't want to come off too strong at first and scare anyone away.

You smiled at him and introduced yourself before you continued to ask him what you had been dreading out of pure nerves. “Um, I know this is weird, but we’re in the same English lit class and I notice you know like, all the answers to what Mr. Reeves asks, n’I just really wanna pass this test so I was maybe wondering if you could tutor me or something? I would pay you of course-”

“You don’t-you don’t have to pay me.” He interrupted you from rambling on for too long because you tended to do that a lot, and Harry had no idea but he had just saved himself about ten minutes of time. If you were his chance at a new friend, he wouldn’t want it to start off on money, because helping a friend wouldn't be a job. “Oh!” Your mouth formed an “o” shape and your eyebrows raised at him. “Are you sure? I mean that's fucking awesome if you really don’t want money, but I would just feel so bad taking up your time without giving you anything in return.”

You prayed that he would say that you really didn’t need to pay him anything. If he meant it, it means this boy was a godsend and you would be happy spending time with this bloke if he is really that sweet all the time. You wouldn’t expect it just because he rarely ever speaks to other people. The most words you had ever heard him speak was when he was answering a question from Mr. Reeves-

“S’fine, really. If I tutor you, um, it's basically like studying m’self so...” He trailed off scratching the back of his neck, and bringing you back to Earth. You broke out into a grin and bounced a bit on your toes, because he was going to help you pass the final and you didn’t have to pay him. “Perfect! Wow, Harry, you’re an angel. Thank you so much,” You complimented him as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket and as your eyes darted away from his face for a few moments, he attempted to bite back his smile, because you were talking to him, and calling him an angel.

You pulled your pink-case covered cell and unlocked it, handing it to Harry and saying, “Here, put your contact in so I can text you about meeting up, s’that cool?” To which he nodded and took your phone gently and began typing his name and number in, and biting back his tongue when he was about to tell you he had the same phone case as you, because you probably wouldn’t care (you actually would care a very great deal, but Harry had been so used to being ignored he figured he wouldn’t muck up his one chance at a new friend). he handed your phone back to you and you just shoved it back in your pocket, the smile never leaving your face.

“Thanks again Harry, it really means a lot. I’ll text you later, yeah?” You said, slowly beginning to walk to your next class. He just offered you a small smile before continuing the way he was before you had asked him to tutor you. Why he didn’t want money was still itching at the back of your brain, mostly because when you told your best friend, Niall, about it later that night he had said “What kinda college student turns down money?” before going off into a rant about how he wished he actually knew what he was learning so he could tutor someone and get some extra cash. You reminded him he already had a job, but it seemed tutoring was “so much easier than dealing with kids whose parents didn’t give a rats-ass if they yell in the restaurant.”

｡:°ஐ

You and Harry had arranged to meet on Wednesday, because you only had one morning class as did he, and would meet in the library at 12 p.m. You don’t think you had ever been so anxious walking into a library before, but here you were, opening the double doors and swiping your student I.D. (which had a horrid picture on it, they really never tell you when they take the photo) before your eyes scanned the front part of the library you could see. It was safe to say you weren’t in the library very often, if seeing your frazzled face as you zig-zagged through the rows of bookshelves was enough to go by.

You made your way to the back, where you assumed the tables for studying and reading would be, and as you turned the corner of one of the oddly tall bookshelves, you thanked your instincts for the first time, and scanned the area until you found a certain flop of messy brown curls hunched over at a table.

“Hi Harry,” You chittered, flopping down in the seat across from him and immediately pulling out your notes and the book you had been reading for class, Pride and Prejudice. “How are you?”

For the first time, you noticed he wore glasses, when he looked up at you and pushed the clear tan frames up the bridge of his nose, a bit startled by your arrival. “M’good, you?” He asked, no emotion or tone behind his voice really. It sounded like he just wanted you to stop talking almost, but you settled on the fact that it was your nerves telling you he hated you.

“’Bout as good as I can be with teachers up my ass all week.” You said, and a small smile struck his face. You wondered what it would be like to make him laugh. Shaking your head from your thoughts, you cleared your throat and looked at your notes before back up at him. “Alright, so m’a bit confused on why Charlotte marries Collins? I mean, ignoring the fact that they’re all related, I’ve re-read it so many times but the old English they use is so confusing.”

After your question, Harry delves into the answer, not going on an extraordinarily long tangent, but a decently long one, explaining the relationship between them, and why they married when he wanted Elizabeth first, and so on. What was even better was that he explained it all so easily you understood it all (and his voice was sweeter than honey), you just kept wanting to ask more questions, so you did.

Harry was talkative when you kept asking him questions, and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, but whenever the conversation swerved into personal life, Harry shut off and became more quiet. It wasn’t like you were asking him about his family drama, the conversation had smoothly sailed into something about high school.

“I wish I read this book in high school when they gave us the chance.” You sighed, flipping through the pages to where you had put a sticky note to write down your confusion. You truly regretted not being one of those reading types, but you preferred to hear things more (like Harry’s voice), and listening to music became your ‘hobby’ instead.

“Yeah, reading it earlier makes it pretty easy now.” He shrugged, going through his own notes. “I just wasn’t much of a reader, did you read a lot in high school?” It's an innocent enough question, and after spending about 2 hours with Harry, you already knew you would want to get to know him more, but it seemed he didn’t feel the same. “A bit.” He said, tensing up. While you were mildly confused by his body language, Harry just didn’t want to talk about highschool. He read a lot, and was so in his own world he found it hard to really have many friends. He had a few loyal ones, but books would always be there, as cheesy as that was. High school wasn’t fun for anyone, he was sure of it.

“You seem like you’d read a lot, you just give off that vibe, y’know?” You said, looking at him. He lifted his gaze from his notes and you truly could not tell what he was thinking. He gave a small “hmph” in response to your question that wasn’t really a question and looked back down at his notes, gathering them all quite fast. “I think we’re good for the day, just text me if you want anymore help.” He mumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder and rushing out of the library. You sat there with your mouth slightly open in shock at the way he left so abruptly. After a few moments you packed up your own things and practically ran after him, bursting through the double doors and trying to find him, to-you actually didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even know what happened. That’s why you found yourself on your couch with Niall as he ate all your snack food, deep in a long-winded advice session from him.

“He just ran out Niall, I don’t even know what happened, like did I say something?” You asked, picking your nails in distress, your eyes following the chip that disappeared in his mouth seconds later. “What’s this bloke’s name, again?” He asked, after chewing (Niall could be vulgar, but he wasn’t an animal). “Um, Harry. Longish brown curls, pretty green eyes, y’know? I-I don’t even know his last name.”

The blonde’s icy blue eyes widened in recognition after a moment of thinking, and he slapped your bicep gently. “Harry Styles! I’ve heard o’him. Apparently he has like two friends and never speaks, s’not hard to believe you have a thing for him, bug.” Your brow raised incredulously, and you were quick to defend yourself, and Harry. “I do not have a thing for him, and just because he doesn’t have many friends doesn’t mean he’s a-wait what do you mean it's not hard to believe?”

Niall rolled his eyes and sat up a bit more, turning to actually face you. “You like the quiet types, s’why we aren’t dating, obviously, n’I never said he was a dud, love, just tellin’ you what I heard.” You just nodded, deciding to not worry about it so much. “There’s many reasons we aren’t dating Ni.” You gave him a compassionate smile and pat his knee. The two of you then burst out into laughter and your worries about Harry faded away.

Until the next morning that is.

You had been going over the study guide Mr. Reeves had emailed everyone that morning and realized you weren’t sure about quite a few of the things you were supposed to know. Sighing, you opened your phone and clicked on Harry’s contact typing out a text.

Hey Harry! Wondering if you could meet up sometime again this weekend just to go over the study guide?

You hit send and prayed that he wouldn’t just ignore it, especially after running out last time. After looking back at the email, you heard your notification bell go off just a few minutes later.

I can do Friday at 8pm, and Sunday around 3.

A smile of relief graced your face at his quick response, no matter how short his texts were, he was still willing to help you, and you were extremely grateful. After texting him back and agreeing to meet back at the library, you went back to working on another assignment, happy that you were able to get more studying in, not about the fact that you got to see the quiet and unusually attractive Harry Styles again. That was not the reason.

｡:°ஐ

Eventually it was Friday night. Your friday nights usually consisted of Niall dragging you somewhere you did not want to be, like a frat party (he always made sure you got home safe though), or you sitting at home, watching a movie and binging on cookies that you had baked just 30 minutes prior. Tonight was different however, and you were attempting to open the doors of the library, because it was locked, but you were positive the library wasn’t closed.

A soft voice said your name, and you turned around to see Harry standing a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets and his bag on his shoulder. “Harry,” you exhaled in relief. “I was about to text you, but it’s locked and I know for a fact it shouldn’t be closed because the hours say 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. every weekday.” You stated matter of factly, pointing to the hours painted on the door. He walked a bit closer to the door and adjusted his glasses a bit, pursing his pink lips as he read the hours. “You’re right.” he said simply, his sage eyes darting to the handle. You wordlessly stepped back and he went to the handle, pulling the door a bit, and pushing it. It moved a bit for him, but it was obvious it was locked.

Your mind raced for solutions, the only ones you were able to find was going to your flat, or wherever he lived, and you were almost positive he wouldn't want you in his house. You heard a little sigh leave his lips as he let go of the handle, and stuck his hands back in his pockets, rolling on the balls of his feet adorned with black boots today. “We could go to my place? If you’re comfortable with that of course, I won’t force you, but it’s like the only place I can think of and my roommate won’t be home tonight to distract us, something about staying the weekend at her boyfriends, but-”

“Sure.”

Your eyes fell back onto his face at his words and you gave a small smile, happy that he had agreed. “Alright, c’mon then.” You said, walking towards the direction of your flat. Only a few moments after you began taking steps he stopped you with his voice. “Wait, you walked here?” He asked, his face twisted up with something you couldn’t tell. “Yeah, m’only fifteen minutes away.” You shrugged. “It’s pitch black-um, come with me, I drove here and you can just direct me to yours.”

You just agreed and followed him to his car, which was an awfully nice black one, you weren’t sure of the brand, but as you got in, you could tell he took really good care of it (not that that was attractive to you or anything). Your words during the drive consisted of you telling him the four turns to take before directing him the best place to park in your lot. You ignored his gaze on you as you led him up the two flights of stairs to your hall, because “The elevator has been down for ages, and I’ve sent about four letters to the landlord, but all I’ve gotten in return is just unnecessary exercise for two months.”

He chuckled a bit at that and you swore your heart grew two sizes as you led him down the hall to your door. You unlocked it, and let him in, quickly walking in front to scan and make sure it wasn’t messy. You were never one to leave the house while it was dirty, but Niall had come over earlier to convince you to come to a party, and you were scared you hadn’t picked up his mess. He truly was like your child in a sense. Taking a sigh of relief at your clean flat, you turned around to see Harry closing your door and you brushed against him to lock it, you never kept your door unlocked at night.

You led him to the living room and dropped your bag on the floor next to the couch, and he did the same, pulling out your books and notes, as well as your laptop. Harry followed your actions and you could tell he was a bit uncomfortable in your flat, or at least that’s what it seemed like. “Do y’want some water or anything? I’m not sure what other drinks I have because I’m pretty sure Niall drank everything in here, and ate it probably as well.”

He looked up at your words and hesitated, bringing his bottom lip between his fingers. “Erm, I’ll have a water, please.” Now was not the time to ask about Niall or who he was to you, he told himself, because it didn’t matter. You nodded and stood up, hurrying over to your kitchen and grabbing two glasses of water for the both of you before handing one to Harry and sitting down on the couch again.

It was a bit weird at first, but soon enough the two of you slid into an easy conversation about the study guide, it was mostly you asking and Harry answering, but occasionally he would ask you something (that you were sure he already knew), and you would answer. It was a good back and forth, and you found yourself thinking about how it would be nice to talk to Harry like this about himself. You wanted to know everything, his favorite color down to the weird little quirks he has (you’ve already picked up on one, like when he itches the bottom of his nose with a curled index finger and slides it to the button of his nose before scrunching it).

“We’ve been studying for about two hours,” You noticed, looking at the time on your computer screen reading 10:03 PM. “I’ve just about filled my brain with enough information about fictional characters for today.”

You looked over at Harry to see him grinning a bit at your joke, and for the first time you noticed he had dimples. You were positive there was nothing wrong with him, other than the fact that he didn’t seem to want to be your friend (it wasn’t his fault, you could be a bit too much for people sometimes). “Okay, I should probably get back home to Luna anyways.” He said, his offhand comment filling your brain. Luna? You prayed you haven’t been taking his time away from a girlfriend, and before your brain could catch up your mouth was already moving. “Oh, who’s Luna?”

Harry looked at you like he forgot he mentioned her and his eyes widened a bit. “Oh, um, she’s m’kitten.” A wave of relief rushed over you, as well as another reason to want to get to know him more. A man so intimidating people didn’t approach him, had a kitten? Harry was flushing out of embarrassment of telling you this little fact, and looking down as he put his things in his bag to avoid eye contact with you, you did not care about his kitten, and you were indirectly telling him to leave, he didn't think he ever hated speaking more.

“That’s such a cute name!”You exclaimed. “Do you have any photos of her? It’s okay if you don’t want to show but I love cats, always wanted t’get my own.”

Nevermind.

30 minutes later, and he was sitting next to you awfully close on the couch, showing you his photo album of Luna. Some of the photos had Harry in them, one in particular, a mirror picture, where he was wearing sweats and had chosen to go without a shirt, holding Luna in one hand by his side. He swiped off of that one with lighting speed, and although you were telling yourself he obviously was embarrassed by you seeing his bare torso, which he shouldn’t be because wow, you couldn’t help your curiosity. “How many tattoos do y’have?”

He moved his head to face you, and only then did he realize how close the two of you were sitting. “Uh, I don’t know, fifty-something? I lost count a while ago.” Your eyes lit up at his words and a grin spread across your face. “Wow, that's so cool. Did it hurt a lot? I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but I have no idea what, and where. I thought a small little butterfly on my ribs or something would be cute for a good year, but I don’t have much connection to butterflies really, and I feel like if I get something tattooed on your body for forever I would want something that really sticks with me.”

He couldn’t help it.

As you watched Harry while you were rambling on about tattoos you could see him smile. Truly smile, one where his teeth showed and everything. You tried not to get too giddy about it, but it was just so beautiful. “It started hurting less the more I got, and tattoos don’t have t’be something y’really connect with, I have a bunch jus’ because I thought they looked cool and had a decent meaning,” He said, and you were positive that’s the most he’s ever spoken to you. “I actually have a butterfly on m’tummy.”

“What other one’s do you have?” You asked, attempting to get him to talk as much as he could.

It worked, because soon the 30 minutes became an hour, and the hour became two, and he was in your flat at midnight. It seemed the two of you had no idea how much time had passed, because when you checked your phone it said it was five past midnight, and you reluctantly told Harry.

“Shit!” He muttered, and that was the first time you’ve heard him curse before. He looked at you, concern taking over his features. “M’so sorry for staying so long, I didn’t want to impose, I-”

“Harry, it’s okay, I promise. If I didn’t want you here, I would've told you to leave.” You said, and that seemed to calm him down a bit. “I’ll walk you down.”

You slipped on your coat and grabbed your keys, while Harry grabbed his tote and the two of you made your way down the stairs, this time a comfortable silence overtaking the stairwell. You reached his car and smiled at him as he unlocked it. “Thank you Harry, for everything, m’sure after Sunday I’ll be aces at analyzing characters.”

He smiled at you and fiddled with his sleeve before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. You were surprised to say the least, but your arms found their way around him as well and you reveled in his warmth. He stepped back after a moment and let his hands slide down your arms before bringing them back to his sides. “M’sorry, I should’ve-I just-you’re so nice n’I just-thank you.”

You couldn’t help but watch him try to stay afloat as he struggled to explain the hug. He really felt like he did though, because you were just so sweet, possibly the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you wanted to know about him, and his tattoos, and his kitten, and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to be with anyone for a hours on end, but he’s already decided that he’d want to be trapped in a room with you for days.

“No need to thank me, get home safe okay?” You smiled at him, reaching out and squeezing his arm and holy shit he’s fit. He looked down at your hand for a moment before smiling big and nodding, parting with a “G’night, I’ll see you Sunday.” before hopping into his car and insisting you walk up first. Rolling your eyes you smirked a bit and started walking up your stairs, turning around and waving at him before he sped off. That was quite possibly the best Friday night you’ve ever had.

｡:°ஐ

Harry was reeling, in the best way possible, but still reeling. After you got together to study on Sunday (and after you both aced the test, which you had given him the largest hug and a kiss on the cheek for), the two of you had hung out almost everyday after.

You met Luna during that following week, and he was expecting her to stay in his bedroom, because Luna didn’t really like new guests all that much, but she had immediately scurried up to you and walked in figure-eights around your feet. Your giggle of excitement was the best thing Harry had ever heard, and he had to take a moment not to squeal out of adoration.

He had opened up to you about, well, a lot. Told you how people just didn’t approach him, which was why he was so off-put when you did, and that he just didn’t want to scare anyone away. You shook your head and sat closer to him on the couch, lifting your hands to pinch his cheeks and pout as you said that he was “the sweetest person” you knew and you had “no idea how anyone could be scared of such a softie.” It was safe to say his face was flushed the entire conversation.

You had also commented on his sweater collection once, and everytime you would shiver, he’d pull off his own sweater and give it to you to wear, even in the courtyard when the weather was reaching 30 degrees. You had refused due to the fact that he would be cold, and eventually he just gave you a sweater you had expressed your liking for. He had handed it to you and you frowned in confusion and said, “Did you bring that just for me?”, because he was already wearing his own, and he had nodded and once you put it on he mumbled, “Keep it.” You did.

It got to the point where the two of you had spent so much time together you introduced him to Niall, to which Niall had commented, “So this is the Harry bloke you’ve been talking about all the time. Nice to meet ya, mate. So, how did you grow your hair out so long?” You had hit his shoulder for embarrassing you, but it seemed Harry didn’t even skip a beat when he started talking about how he had decided to grow his hair out. It was a story you’d heard before, but with Harry speaking, you would listen to the same words over and over again.

When you each went home for winter break, Harry had hugged you tightly and kissed your cheek, telling you that it was only 2 weeks, and the both of you would be back before you knew it. When the two of you weren’t texting, you were calling each other, and he was right, because you had both gotten back yesterday, a day full of hugs of goodbye’s from families, and full of cheek and forehead kisses, along with hugs and cuddles from Harry. You teased him about the gift, a book you had told him was the only one you wanted to read, he mailed you, and he teased you about his gift, a sweater with a hand-stitched (by you) small little moon where the left breast was, for Luna, and posters of his favorite artists, because he didn’t have anything on his walls.

Today was a day of “movies and cookies, it rhymes” as Harry had put it, and you had just knocked on his door, adorned with the sweater he gave you and some sweats. He opened the door almost immediately, a large smile on his face as he brought you in and gave you a large hug, to which you returned. “Missed you.” He mumbled into your shoulder. “I saw you yesterday, dimples.” You said, squeezing him before letting go and poking the indent in his cheek that just got deeper. “I told you I hate that nickname, bunny.” He smirked. “Oh, shove off.” You smiled, making your way to his living room where Luna was curled up on the couch on the right side, close enough to the end that no one could sit there, but close enough to the middle that practically half of his couch was taken.

“Don’t move her,” He said, walking up beside you. “She’s been crazy all day and she's finally relaxing, little devil.” You just shrugged and looked at the cookies he had already set out. “As long as I get these, I don’t mind where she is.”

The two of you settled next to each other on the couch as he chose an old horror movie that you begged not to watch but according to Harry, “S’not even scary, pet. Nothing is realistic, swear.” You just grumbled in defeat as he started to play it and just stuffed cookies into your mouth as you fell against the back of the couch.

Half an hour later, and your head was tucked in Harry’s chest, while your legs fell over his own. His hand was splayed across your back, rubbing up and down gently and mumbled “It’s okay”’s and “I’ve got you”’s while you peeked out to see the giant ant’s taking over. He really couldn’t believe it, you of all people were in his arms at night. He wished it could be every night, and when he heard your breathing slow down he suddenly took it back.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

You hadn’t planned on sleeping over, but just the other day were you complaining about not getting enough sleep because of your “stupid Philosophy professor”, and there was no way in hell Harry was going to wake you up. He hesitated for a moment, before turning off the T.V. because in the time he was deciding on what to do the movie had long stopped playing, and wrapped his other arm under your knees, gently picking you up and taking you to his bed.

He laid you down and tucked you under the covers, grabbing a pillow for himself before making his way to the couch for the night. He made sure to set an alarm to wake up before you did, and make you breakfast.

When you opened your eyes, the last thing you were expected to be met with was a white ceiling with a sleek silver fan nailed in. You sat up groggily, looking around the room to recognize it as Harry’s room. You had only been in here a few times, mostly to scavenge his closet, but you knew his room when you saw it. You swung your legs out of bed, and slowly made your way to the living room, where you were met with a sleeping Harry, spread out on the couch in his sweats, without a shirt. You tried not to linger your gaze on all his tattoos and abs as you walked by him to check the time on your phone. Almost 9 a.m., and by the vibrating phone next to yours, with the same case, you could tell he meant to set an alarm but forgot to turn his ringer on.

He had an alarm set for something, and he never told you what he was doing this morning, so you decided you would wake him up, just in case. You grabbed his shoulder gently, and tried not to think about how warm he was, shaking him gently and calling his name. “Harry…” You said in a sing-songy voice a few times. He pouted in his sleep and grunted a bit, before scrunching his eyes open. He practically jumped back when he saw you and his head fell back against the arm of the couch. Of course he wouldn’t wake up before you. “Morning.” You grinned. “G’morning. M’sorry if you were confused when y’woke up. I just brought y’to my bed cause you fell asleep, n’I was gonna wake up before you but obviously that didn’t work out.”

You just shook your head and smiled, trying not to think about his morning voice. There were a lot of things you had to try not to think about with Harry. “No worries, wanna go grab breakfast at the diner down the street? Heard they have killer hashbrowns.”

And all thanks to you, Harry wonders what he had to worry about in the first place.

After breakfast, you went back to your place, Harry in your living room while you got dressed for the day, changing your sweats to jeans and slipping back out of your room. “Alright, what’s the plan?” You asked, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to make paws. It wasn’t like Harry hadn’t seen you with his sweater on, but it seemed to make him more flustered everytime you did wear it. He shrugged and looked you up and down quickly. “I like your sweater, where’d y’get it?” He joked, in an attempt to mask his blush.

“From this really cute guy, he just gave it to me one day.” You shrugged, and watched as he bit his bottom lip in an attempt not to smile too much. “Really cute?” He asked as you stepped closer to him. “Mhm, his name is Harry.”

“Please stop.” He said, and you stepped back, confused by his sudden change in emotion. “I’m just joking, Harry.” You said, attempting to save the moment. His bottom lip trembled and he sat down on your couch, his head falling in his hands. “I know, n’I don’t want you t’be.” He mumbled as you sat next to him. He pulled his head out of his hands and looked at you, his heart beating faster than it ever has.

“I really like you, bunny. And I don’t wanna ruin our friendship because you’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time, but I cant- I can’t listen to you joke about how you think I’m cute if y’don’t feel the same.”

You swear your heart bursted at his confession. A smile overtook your face and you moved so you were right next to him. You placed your hands on the sides on his face and kissed his nose. “You think I don’t feel the same? For someone so smart, m’surprised you haven’t realized it before,” you said softly, as he looked at you in wonder and shock. “I really like you too.” You leaned in and placed your lips on his, about to pull back when he didn’t respond. He then began to kiss you back and his hands found a home on your hips. When the two of you pulled away, he smiled like a fool and pecked your lips once more.

There was never anything to worry about with you, he was sure of it.

#would you believe me if I told you this took 4 days to write #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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peachysamu · 3 years

Text

A/n: alcohol consumption; here is its companion piece

“Aran is dependable this. Aran is reliable that.” You mock quietly under your breath while you repeatedly rip at the bread between your fingers. “Aran was the backbone of my high school team.”

So why the hell have you been sitting at this table picking at bread all by yourself for the last twenty minutes?!

You angrily gnaw on the carb, stale and bland, but it gives you something to do while you ignore the stares that come your way. This is ridiculous. You knew you shouldn’t have said yes to this set up, but Atsumu was so damn insistent. Pestering you left and right, telling you that the two of you would work well together, sending you pictures of Aran in the middle of the night with a winky face, he’s like a damn fly on a hot summer day. Swat him away and he comes right back.

Granted, scrolling through your phone wistfully, (you blame this on the wine you’ve also unintentionally been guzzling just to pass the time) the last couple days of frequent texting has proven Aran a decent man. He remembers small details, wishes you a good day, and pesters you to drink more water. A different kind of pestering, less of a menace like Atsumu and more of a gentle care for your being.

But then you reach the end of your messages. The one that asks where he is. The one that has no response. And you’re back to gnawing on bread and guzzling white wine.

Stupid Atsumu. This is all his fault. Who is he to meddle into your love life? Good intentions or not, Atsumu is the poorest wingman there is. Even he hasn’t tried to save face with whiny excuses after texting him a barrage of curses and blame.

“I’m going to kill him,” you vow, butter knife clenched between your fist as you spread the fat across the bread to make it just a bit more satisfying. “I’m going straight to the konbini and I’m going to buy the thickest fly swatter I can find. Then he’s going to get it.”

“You’ll kill a man before he even has a chance to explain himself?”

A quick glance up proves that the man before you looks exactly like the photos that Atsumu sends you. Actually, no camera can quite capture the confidence and charm that he exudes. And his kind eyes. Effortlessly handsome, he does bear an awkward smile until your eyes catch his gaze. You look over to your right hand, and appalled at the sight, you throw the knife onto the table.

“Not you.” You explain and you watch Aran breathe a small sigh of relief before taking a seat. “Atsumu. I’m going to kill Atsumu.”

Just the name gives the man before you a muted look of displeasure. His jaw clenches in a mightily fine way but ignore that for now. “I’ll kill him too.”

You motion for him to go first but a look of confusion arises when Aran reaches for his glass of wine but snags nothing but air. He gives you a glance, and in these couple of moments, you’ve found that Aran is very expressive. His head tilts like an owl and his right brow raises from its perch, eyeing the two glasses before you.

“You were late.” Is your remark and a petty sip for yourself. “And I needed more wine.”

Aran gives a bemused chuckle at your confidence, “That’s understandable.” Then he taps the rim of your glass of water, still full. “But you should drink more water.”

You roll your eyes but take a drink anyways and he looks satisfied at how easy you relent. Is it the wine talking because that soft, half smile could basically kill you.

No.

Be strong! Straightening your back, you remind yourself not to give in so easily. He was late! “Well go on then. Explain why you want to kill Atsumu and why you’re late.”

And it’s like the name triggers something inside Aran because the tenderness is no longer there. An expression only made by lifelong torment makes its way across his face. Irritated but a little dead inside, Aran begins. “Atsumu! Atsumu’s the reason why I’m late. Took his damn time doing his hair but kept on insisting to drive me since ‘us kiddos’ will be out all night drinking. Rushed me out the door I forgot my phone.”

You laugh at the way he quotes and mocks your shared menace’s tenor.

“I’m a grown man.” Aran places a palm to his chest and you cannot help but vehemently agree. Yes, yes he is. “I can drive myself. Can ride the train myself. Don’t know why he’s treatin’ me like a kid when I’m older than him!”

Aran shuffles through his pockets before pulling out a black card. “Even gave me his card with a slimy grin and said ‘Date’s on me.’”

So you’re not the only one that’s been on the receiving end of Atsumu’s pesky ways. “He sure is invested in your life.”

And Aran gives a weary sigh, “Always have been.”

You reach over and pluck the card from his fingers. “Well, let’s make sure his investment pays off then.”

Aran catches on, raising a hand up for another bottle of wine as you give him back his glass. The two of you meet eyes before clinking the glasses together in a mischievous solidarity.

“Can we stop by the konbini store and buy a fly swatter after this?” You ask after the sip.

“Of course, baby. Anything you want. Date’s on me.”

Atsumu’s right. You and Aran do work well together.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #ojiro aran #aran x reader #aran x you #aran x y/n #ojiro aran fluff #ojiro aran drabble #ojiro aran scenario #ojiro aran imagine

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mentally-unavailable · 3 years

Text

How To Court A Cryptid: 101 Chapter: 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER or NEXT CHAPTER

T/W: cursing, smoking, sex jokes/inuendos, jokes of murder

I sat on our lawn chair in our backyard staring at the sky, the sun had set and the stars were out. It was nice, Baby our fat tabby cat sat on the table in front of me purring.

“You’re thick as fuck bitch” I said petting Baby, he meowed in return leaning into my pets.

“Not as thick as me” Ana said as she sat down in the chair in front of me. She pulled out her cigarettes' box grabbing one the holding it out towards me. I smiled before grabbing a cig and getting out my lighter. I light the cig then handed the lighter to her. She nodded before putting up the box, lighting her cigarette and handing me back my lighter. I took in a deep breathe of the smoke before holding and letting out.

“Yo, I saw your tweet. That’s cool you wanna stream, you know where?” Ana asked letting out the smoke and leaning back in her chair.

“Yeah, probably twitch since I can do more things or what not. I have to set up stuff for it. I’ll ask Thomas for help if I need it” I replied petting Baby. Ana hummed in acknowledgement while looking up at the sky.

Ana is my older sister, she’s the second oldest to James, older brother. She has a buzz cut and a nose piercing on her left nostril. She has blue eyes and eyes shaved into circles, she was the first kid mom and dad adopted. She’s from Norway; she was adopted at five years old. After Ana was James, he was adopted from here in England when he was ten. He lives with his girlfriend near dads work. I was the final kid to be adopted, I was adopted a eight from (State) America.

“You know, I’ve been seeing your pictures around on Twitter, apparently one of Tommy’s friends posted it and you’ve been spreading like wild fire. All of their followers have labeled you the Dream SMP discord cryptid.” Ana said with a chuckle. I rolled my eyes, my name on social media is ‘Cryptid_Bastard’.

“How ironic” I said smiling. Ana laughed while breathing in her cigarette before blowing out.

“You know, me and the boys are recording our new song tomorrow. I’m pretty excited myself” Ana said looking over at me, I nodded. Ana is in a band called ‘No Rest for The Bastards; as the lead singer and bass.

“Cool, I think your going to do great” I said finishing my cig before putting it out and putting it into the empty flower pot in the middle of the table.

My phone started to ring from my pocket, quickly I fished it out and answered.

“Ass and Ass Emporium, are you clapping or slapping today?” I said with a serious tone.

“Jesus Christ (y/n) that is quite inappropriate for a child to hear” Tommy said with a laugh on the other side. I chuckled, looking over at Ana who was laughing her ass off at my answering message.

“Yeah, yeah Thomas. Don’t act like you haven’t worse on the internet” I said leaning on the table.

“Yeah, well I was wondering. Do you wanna stream with me? Or well be in one of my streams? I know you’ve said no in the past but, you see one of my friends leaked some photos of you on his alt and everyone is raving about it. Some say your fake or whatever, anyway! Would you be down?” He asked, I could here him typing away at his computer.

“Uh, sure. I think that would be fun. I know I said no in the past, but I think it would be fun” I said “Cause, you see. I also need to learn how to be a streamer since my fans want me to stream”

“Oh! That’s cool! Yeah, I can teach you the ways of the stream life style! Don’t worry I am a big man who knows things!” He said giggling, I chuckled in response.

“Cool, we can set up a time then cause I’m free whenever” I said picking at my nails.

“Cool, cool. Just wanted to talk to you about that. I got to go, have a good night!” Tommy yelled to me

“Good night Thomas” I said back before hanging up.

Over the next few days, me and Tommy got together planning for our stream. He would now post cryptic pictures of me on his twitter as a teaser. Finally the day came where we would stream, I walked over to his about 30 minutes before. I said hello to his parents before making my way to his room. Today I wore my patch jacket, with a sleeveless shirt under, ripped baggy pants, platform boots and a bunch of accessories. I also did my hair and made myself look presentable, when I got to Tommy’s door I quickly knocked.

“Oi, you decent Thomas?” I asked keeping my hand on the door knob

“Yeah, come on in!” He yelled from the other side of the door, I then opened the door and let myself in. I had my bags strap in hand as I shut the door and looked over at Tommy. He was sitting at his desk getting everything ready, I smiled with a sense of pride seeing him doing what he loves.

“You have horrible posture you know?” I say as I go and sit on his bed, he turned to look at me offended

“Wow, your mean you know that?” He says crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, I laugh

“Guess, you won’t get any brownies my mama made” I said with a smirk. He imminently sat up straight and looked amazed

“The Mrs. (l/n) famous brownies! What let me have one!” he said holding out his hand. I shook my head at his enthusiasm before reaching into my bag a pulling out a small container of brownies. I popped off the lid and grabbed out a brownie, I made my hand towards his open palm before pulling back my hand and stuffing the sweet into my mouth.

“HEY! Give me one!” He yelled before trying to reach for the container, I quickly leaned back keeping it out of his reach.

“Say it” I said looking at him. He looked confused before sighing

“No, I am not saying it” He said pouting

“Then no brownie” I said grabbing another and eating it.

“FINE! You’re the alpha friend” he said with a pout, I smiled before grabbing a brownie and handing it to him.

“Good, here you go bubbs. So, whatcha up to?” I ask setting the container on his desk and leaning back on my hands.

“I’m just setting up my stream stuff and making sure everything will come out smooth, speaking of which we are gonna go live in five minutes.” He said looking back at the computer monitor. I nodded before grabbing the extra chair and sitting off away from the camera’s view.

“How do we wanna start the stream? Or introduce me?” I ask leaning back in the chair

“I can make it seem very scary, with the lights off and then you wheel yourself into view of the camera and you introduce yourself or whatever” He said pulling up his twitch and hovering the go live button.

(A/n: I have no idea how streaming works, so if I’m wrong let me know!)

“Cool” I say walking over to the light switch and turning it off before returning to my chair.

“Alright, we go live in one minute, you ready?” Tommy asked looking over at me, I smiled.

“Ready as I’ll ever be”

(A/N: Here is chapter 2 done! I hope y’all liked it! The next chapter will be about the stream and meeting everyone! If you wish to be apart of my taglist, check out my taglist link and comment there so I can keep track of all of you. Hope y’all have a great day/afternoon/night in your little corner of the world. Stay hydrated! :P)

TAGLIST:

@teenage0jealousy

@smolgreenybeany

#MCYT x reader #dream smp x reader #tommyinnit #xreader #xgn!reader #xpunk!reader #xalt!reader #How To Court A Cryptid: 101

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tefilovesreading · 3 years

Text

It’s a match! Part. 1

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: +1,7k

Warnings: language, mention of alcohol.

A/N: This is a mini series, I’m not sure how many parts it’s gonna have and there’s gonna be some texts in between. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED.

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland

MASTERLIST // PART 2 // PART 3

She felt her hands start sweating as she saw the small circle slowly filling up, letting her know that the app was being downloaded. She knew what a dating app was, how it worked and what was its purpose, but never created her account, not that she needed it before because she had a boyfriend. Her roommate, on the other hand, was well acquainted with dating apps, and they’d spent nights swiping through the profiles together.

Now that she was single for the first time since she graduated from high school, her roommate and best friend had convinced her to download Tinder and have fun.

“You don’t even have to go and meet the guy, Y/N,” Jo had said with a beaming smile to encourage her when they met for coffee earlier that day, “just have a look and see if you find someone you’d want to talk to.”

She nibbled on her lip when the circle filled up entirely and the icon appeared on her screen, bright and inviting. Putting her phone down, she decided she’d create her account later, for now, downloading it was more than enough.

In her sophomore year, she broke up with her boyfriend because they couldn’t find time to be together, too busy with classes, exams, and part-time jobs. But that didn’t last long, ‘cause they got back together after three weeks.

Those three weeks ignited a spark in her, suddenly things were more exciting to her, and she didn’t feel like she was acting how others expected her to. Y/N felt a kind of freedom that made her go on a date with her co-worker, sure they just went for a coffee together once and decided that they were better off as friends, but that small rejection made her want to make that spark disappear.

Being with Lance made things easier, they knew each other since they were little, and that meant she didn’t have to open up to let him know her flaws and fears, because he knew her like the palm of his hand. Being with him made her feel safe, even when they were apart during his first year of college since she was a year younger than him and was still in high school when he left for college, but that safety net vanished when Lance decided he wanted to spend time overseas after he graduated from college. And it was useless to wait for him if he wasn’t even sure he wanted to come back.

Eight months later, Y/N felt that spark reigniting again, making her feel like she was missing something. Ever since Lance left, she spent too much time afraid to put herself out there. How can you let someone into your life and trust them to not hurt you? After all, she trusted Lance for so long just to get hurt because they didn’t want the same things, and their paths went in different ways. But Y/N knew she couldn’t hide much longer, she wanted to go out, have fun, go on dates and meet new people, she just didn’t know how to start.

Her phone vibrated with a new notification from her best friend, and she snorted at her text.

Jo: Any matches yet heartbreaker???

If only Jo knew she still wasn’t able to bring herself into making an account. Maybe she could choose the pictures first, plan her bio, and then create it. Planning that out was definitely better than staring at the app icon.

Y/N: Not yet, but I’ll let you know ;)

After an hour of scrolling through her photos, Y/N chose five pictures where she looked decent. Hell, she looked really hot in one or two of those, and she wasn’t going to act as if that wasn’t true.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself after her account was finally set up.

It was a strange feeling swiping through the profiles, reading their bios, and rolling her eyes at some of them. But after a few minutes, she started enjoying it, not even feeling bad if she didn’t match with a guy.

She smiled at the simple bio on her screen and swiped right, not even bothering to go through his other photos. He was cute, he seemed like he liked to have fun, and even though he was cute, he was also hot. A dangerous mix, but a really nice one.

It’s a match!

“Honey I’m home!” her best friend sang, entering the living room.

“Shit Jo!” Y/N scolded the girl, “you scared me.”

“Why?” Jo faked an offended look, “were you sending dirty messages or something?”

“Oh shut up,” Y/N said, handing her phone over to her friend with a sheepish smile on her face, “check out my last match.”

“Okay, so he likes outdoor activities, he plays the guitar, and he has a cute smile,” her friend listed, swiping through his photos, “what are you waiting for, Y/N? Send him a message!”

“I was actually waiting for him to send one first,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks heat up, “you know I suck with conversations over chat.”

“But what if he’s waiting for you to talk to him, and you don’t do it,” Y/N looked at her friend and knew she was already making up a whole movie in her head, about how they could be soulmates, but they would never know if she didn’t send him a text.

“Fine!” She huffed and took her phone from her friend’s hands, “Do I send him a hello or what?”

“No, that’s too dry,” Jo replied, “you should ask him about where he took that picture, the one where he’s in the snow.”

She bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the fact that she felt as if her stomach was tied up in knots. He was really cute, and she had a good feeling about him, almost as if the universe was telling her to go for it, meet up with him and have fun.

Hesitating at first, she let her finger hover over the little “send” button for a few seconds, before pressing the screen and sending the text.

Y/N: Hey! Where did you take the first pic? The place looks great

“What now?” Jo looked at her with one of her eyebrows arched.

“We wait, you idiot.”

“I need to do something,” Y/N locked her phone and got up, “if I stay on that couch waiting for a reply I’m gonna end up with no nails.”

“I did your nails last night, Y/N, don’t ruin my work,” Jo complained, “why don’t you cook dinner today?, and I’ll wash the dishes, so you can text with that guy if he replies to you by the time we’re done eating.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that it was your turn, Jo” she pointed out but made her way to the kitchen anyway, “and you better wash, dry, and put the dishes back in the cabinets.”

Cooking was the perfect distraction, and the glass of wine she drank while they were eating helped her loosen up just enough to check her phone without feeling like she was getting back some important results.

Charlie: It’s in Canada Charlie: Sulphur Mountain Trail! Charlie: I like your smile btw

She smiled with excitement when she opened the app and saw those three messages, and just as she was about to respond, Charlie sent another one.

Charlie: How was your day?? Y/N: It was good, pretty relaxing actually Y/N: Yours?? Charlie: Great! I went hiking with a friend, so now I’m just chilling at home Y/N: I’m assuming you’re into hiking, don’t you??? Charlie: Hahaha yeah you’re right Charlie: I guess I enjoy being outside, it keeps my mind occupied

Y/N: I get it, I’m not really into outdoor activities Y/N: I mean Y/N: I don’t mind going on a hike once in a while, but I prefer reading, painting, or playing some music Y/N: To keep my mind occupied

Five texts in a row. Was that too much? She didn’t want to appear intense, but she also didn’t want to send just one massive text and type it for way too long.

Charlie: You play an instrument?? Charlie: I love music Y/N: Yeah I play the piano Y/N: I just don’t have one with me now, so I haven’t played in a while Charlie: Oh! That sucks! Charlie: When I moved here I think I packed my guitars first and then the rest of my stuff

Y/N let out a soft laugh at his text, he did seem like the kind of guy to pack random stuff before things that he might actually need. She should’ve done the same, she missed playing the piano, and now that she was miles away from her parents’ house it wasn’t like she could just go and play. Especially because she didn’t even know how to drive a car.

Y/N: Should’ve done the same if I’m honest Y/N: Where are you from? You said you moved here

After reading his answer to her last question, she groaned in embarrassment because it was the most obvious answer, and yet she didn’t notice it.

Charlie: I’m Canadian

She lost track of time talking to him about things they both enjoyed doing, what was their favorite movie, favorite musician, and to her surprise it was so easy to talk to him about small things like that could help you a lot to get to know another person. Y/N got startled when Jo touched her shoulder to get her attention.

“I’m off to bed, babe,” Y/N dodged when her friend tried to ruffle her hair as if she was a little kid, “don’t go to bed too late.”

“I won’t mom,” she replied jokingly, “sweet dreams, Jo.”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N typed a message, telling him that she needed to get some rest and that she was hoping they could keep talking the next day.

Charlie: Do you mind if I ask you for your number?? Charlie: I’d love to call you or FaceTime with you if you’re okay with that

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, wishing her best friend hadn’t gone to bed already. Of course, she wanted to give him her number, but was she supposed to give her number to the first guy she talked to on Tinder? “fuck it, I’m doing it.”

Y/N sent him her number and after telling him goodnight, she closed the app and got ready for bed. She really had a good feeling about this whole thing, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, because the feeling started even before they even matched.

Maybe it was just fate doing its work.

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fluff #jatp cast imagine #charlie gillespie

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

“Karl.”

“Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

“Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

“You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

“Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

“You sure about that?” You quip back.

“You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

“Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

“Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

“No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

“You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

“Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

“Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

“Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

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