#came across as that in a few flashback moments

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 5 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: the morning after

a/n: i love making people cry so some pretty angsty stuff up ahead 😁 forgive me for turning paige into a slight asshole

word count: 1.8k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO

The green LED light on Paige’s alarm clock blinked 3:07 AM. Paige had been up for the past two hours. Tossing and turning seemed like the right phrase, but she didn’t want to wake you, so all the turmoil stayed inside her head.

A burst of warmth ran through her body and flooded her senses whenever she looked at you. You were curled up against her side, lightly snoring. You looked so soft in the moonlight, and Paige wanted to take a photo of you like this and ingrain it inside her brain. But her mind’s been running non stop for the past 120 minutes, overcome with regret over what you two had just done.

Paige had always known of her tendencies. She wouldn’t call herself a player, because she never intentionally led girls on. She always made it clear to her one night stands what they were - a hookup, with no strings attached. But some girls never seemed to get it. Every so often there would be someone who got attached to Paige after just one night together and ended up leaving her apartment in tears, cursing her name. She hated when that happened, hated seeing them cry.

So she vowed to herself never to sleep with you. Not because she didn’t want you, because God knows how many sleepless nights she spent in this very bed, dreaming about the pink of your lips and the curve of your hips. But because she knew how complicated things would get. Your friendship was the one thing that had remained stable in Paige’s life the past few years. There mere thought of losing you made her heart pound and head throb.

So Paige had stayed strong. Never mind all those moments where her hands had lingered on your waist a little too long, or the fact that the wallpaper of her lock screen and home screen were both pictures with you, or the fact that you were the only person pinned on her messages app besides her family. She knew she couldn’t have you.

Paige brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, letting the pad of her thumb trail down your cheek. You stirred in your sleep, a smile drifting faintly across your lips, and shifted closer to her, burying your face in her abdomen. And in that moment, Paige realized two things.

#1. She was in love with you. Yeah, she’d always loved you as a friend. You were thoughtful and supportive, a best friend a person could ask for. But beyond that, you made her feel seen. To you, Paige wasn’t just a basketball player or a pretty face. You had broken through her barriers and made the effort to know her on every level, and that was what Paige in love with you.

#2. She didn’t deserve you. Paige thought back to all those times she’d canceled on movie nights because somehow she’d ended up again at the bar with her teammates, flirting with pretty girls while the prettiest girl sat alone in her room. Or when she’d briefly dated Anna, who had apparently been cold to you for their entire relationship, always making snide comments when Paige wasn’t around. But you had saw how happy Paige was (but not as happy as she was whenever she was with you), and had kept silent, not wanting to ruin Paige’s relationship. And even though Paige had broken up with Anna as soon as she’d found out about her behavior, she couldn’t quiet the voices in her head blaming her for letting someone treat you like that. You were the best person in the world, Paige thought. And you deserve someone who can give you all of that. Not me.

So after having come to those two conclusions, Paige knew what she had to do.

——————————-

You woke up in a daze. Checking your phone, you realized it was only 8 AM. Tired, you slumped back into the pilllow. The events of last night only came back to you when you moved the sheets of Paige’s bed and saw your bra.

You couldn’t help but smile as memories of fisted sheets, shaking legs, and hands intertwined in each other’s hairs came flooding back. You pressed your fingers to your lips, the lips that Paige had kissed over and over again just hours before. You and Paige had slept together, and everything had felt so right. And god, that was the best head you’d ever gotten.

Getting up, you heard clattering in the kitchen and footsteps outside. Assuming it was Paige, you didn’t bother to cover up when the door swung open, but your mouth fell open when you came face to face with Azzi.

“Oh my god!” Azzi shrieked. Both of you stared at each other for a second before you grabbed the comforter off Paige’s bed to cover your body. “Get out, get out, get out!” you yelled.

Azzi slammed the door. Heart beating fast, you rushed to find your clothes. “Did I just see what I thought I saw?” Azzi yelled from the other side of the door.

“Azzi Fudd, I will smack you,” you yelled back as you started to pull on your jeans.

“Did you and Paige sleep together?” She screamed. “Oh my god, she’ll kill me if she finds out I walked in on you like this.”

You fiddled with the buttons on your jeans. “That’s why we’re gonna keep this a secret. You’re not gonna tell anyone we slept together.”

“What?! But now Aaliyah and Nika owe me twenty dollars,” she complained.

You tugged on your shirt. “I’m gonna pretend that you didn’t just tell me that three of our closest friends made a bet on us sleeping together.” You opened the door and glared at a sheepish Azzi. “Now where the hell is Paige?”

“I dunno. I heard her leaving an hour ago. I thought I was home alone. You scared the shit out of me,” Azzi side eyed your sex and bed hair, and you ran your hand through it, trying to make it look less messy. “So, how was it?” Azzi leaned towards you with a sly smirk on her face. “Was it good?”

“Oh my god, Azzi.” You pushed her out of the way and grabbed your purse from the couch. “I’m leaving. You better keep your mouth shut.”

“No promises!” Azzi called after you, cackling as you left the apartment.

—————————

5 DAYS LATER

“Open the fucking door, Bueckers.” You rapped on the door of Paige’s apartment, impatiently tapping your foot as you waited.

After you heard noises from inside but she still refused to open the door, you knocked even harder. “I know you’re in there, asshole. Azzi told me you’ve been in here the entire day.”

Finally the door swung open, and I laid eyes on Paige for the first time since we’d slept together 5 days ago. Her hair was in a messy low bun, and she was wearing her grey UConn sweatpants and a sports bra. You ignored the blush that rose from your neck from seeing her bare abdomen, all sculpted and taut, and instead glared at her.

“What the fuck, Paige? You haven’t responded to any of my texts and calls in the last week. Are you seriously ghosting me?” You pushed past her into the apartment.

Paige stared at you, still not saying anything. The last five days had been hell. You knew that sleeping with your best friend would change things. It would be awkward, and unsure, but you and Paige have always been able to figure everything out. So you didn’t expect for her to drop all communication with you, leaving you alone in bed the morning after and then ignoring all your attempts to talk to her after.

Paige smirked at you, but it wasn’t tantalizing and seductive like the last time you saw her. It was sharp, calculated, like she knew something that you didn’t. “Damn, I was that good, wasn’t I?”

“Paige, I need you to be serious right now.” Your voice was rising in pitch, your frustration showing. “We need to talk about us.”

Paige folded her arms, and she had never looked so distant. “What is there to talk about?”

You pushed her, not hard, but enough for her to stumble back. “Okay, so you fucked your best friend, and now you don’t even wanna talk about it?”

Paige swallowed, and she looked away. “We lost in the Final Four that night.”

“Yeah, so?” Your face was flushed red with anger, and you felt hot all over. “What’s that gotta do with anything?”

She turned back to look at you. Her face was impassive now, and you wondered at who this girl in front of you was. It seemed like you didn’t even know her, this version of Paige. “It was a tough game,” she said curtly. “I needed to blow off some steam, and you were there.”

I needed to blow off some steam, and you were there.

You physically recoiled. Those words resounded in your mind, ricocheting from every corner, repeating itself until you went numb. You tasted something bitter in your mouth, a confirmation of what you had been worrying yourself sick about 24/7 for the past several days. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Paige regarded you coolly. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you thought that night was a declaration of love or something. I mean yeah, you weren’t bad for your first time, but it was just sex.”

A jumble of something terrible and bitter began brewing in your stomach. It was a mixture of anger, and horror, and shock and pain, threatening to spill over. You didn’t know whether you wanted to sob or throw up. That night you had basically admitted to Paige that you had wanted her for so long but…had you been so foolish to believe that she actually liked you back?

“You’re really nothing but a slut, huh,” you scoffed. You felt like a dagger was stabbing you, brutally piercing you in the heart as those words were spit from your mouth, but you were so angry, so furious, you couldn’t stop. “You don’t care about anything but getting laid. You’re so fucking shallow.”

For a moment, you thought you saw hurt flash through Paige’s eyes. But she quickly recovered, and her face turned stony again. “I’m not the one who was like a little fan girl, so desperate that you jumped on me as soon as I gave you the chance.” Her lip curled.

We, whatever we were, were over, and we both knew it. We were throwing out insults, maiming each other in an attempt to mollify our own hurt. We were drowning, and you knew it, god you knew it, your lungs felt on fire and you felt like you were losing everything in my life all at once. And you were too weak to stop it. Too cowardly to apologize, to take all your words back, to tell her you loved her so much, that you would be willing to stay friends and only friends and ignore the fact that you were heads over heels for her, just so she would stay in your life and you could go back to what you were before you made the most stupid decision of your lives.

But none of that came out. Instead, you said words that you didn’t mean.

“Don’t talk to me ever again, Bueckers. I fucking hate you.”

“Gladly.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #wbb #wcbb

[annwrites]

you send me

— pairing: negan smith x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: negan comes to see his "favorite" girl in alexandria, only to find out she's incredibly sick and that denise has absolutely nothing to help her as she slowly slips away

— tags: negan pining, negan worrying, negan trying to annoy you bc like a little boy he can't just admit he has feelings for you, there is a flashback of the two of you dancing bc i'm a sap

— tw: rocky mountain spotted fever is mentioned, vomiting, medication being forcefully administered

— word count: 2,602

— a/n: in my canon, denise never dies | my twd masterlist | sam cooke song that's mentioned

The house is silent, as usual, when Negan comes through the front door. "Where is my favorite girl?" He asks with a chuckle, but the words float into thin air, no response coming back to greet him.

The only reason he even bothers coming to your domain anymore is simply to annoy you. Maybe get under your skin by making the offer for you to join his harem of wives...again.

In hopes of pissing you off a few weeks ago, he'd taken a batch of cookies you'd just boxed up fresh from the oven with a wink, saying it was 'property of the saviors now' and 'hope they taste just as sweet as you are'. He'd even rummaged through your fridge, stealing a Tupperware container of leftover pasta, before whistling to himself as he walked out the door, not bothering to close it behind him, Lucille slung over his shoulder.

You'd been none-too-pleased the afternoon you came home to find him napping on your couch. You knew the saviors were once again 'visiting', but hadn't been aware that Negan had come with them.

He'd been rudely awaken by you vacuuming the rug directly in front of him.

Not that he hadn't then made some comment about 'going upstairs and getting cuddly under the covers'. You'd yelled that you couldn't hear him before deciding you wanted to try the vacuum against your hardwood floors next.

He never bothered taking anything of true use to you anymore, though. For one, it was due to the fact that his men had all but wiped out the whole of Alexandria the first time they'd come. But the most significant reason? The real one? The first time he'd met you, you'd been the only person to call him out on his bullshit straight-away. And with no fear, at that. Well, none that you clearly showed to him, at least.

He'd entered your neat and tidy little home, you emerging from the hall, doing your utmost to hide just how afraid you were as he looked you over for a moment.

"S'cuse me, doll, but," he leaned in toward you, despite being halfway across the room. "Your husband home?"

You crossed your arms over your chest out of a desperate attempt to hide your shaking hands. "I don't have one."

His brows raised then. He set himself on a barstool, setting Lucille atop your recently-cleaned countertop. "Really?" He asked with interest.

You hadn't replied. You'd simply opted for standing there instead, and staring. Afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Not much for talking, huh? I like that in a woman," he said with a brilliant smile.

You briefly thought that perhaps he was just a male chauvinist. But that didn't seem...quite right to you. No. This behavior—it wasn't real. It was a defense. Just a façade. Right?

You walked over to the sink, starting on the dishes you'd left soaking overnight. You had a dishwasher, but pods for them were rationed. And, while Eugene had even taken a shot at it, he hadn't quite perfected the formula for them to not create kitchens full of suds just yet.

Negan watched you, taken aback by your lack of attention toward him. "Well, guess I'll just take myself on a trip upstairs and start lookin' through your-"

"Are you always like this?' You asked quietly, scrubbing a pan.

"Pardon me?" He asked, pretending to be curious as to what you meant.

"It's an act, right? Just a persona you've created to make yourself seem like someone other men might want to follow. To make yourself feel powerful."

A muscle in his jaw feathered. "Maybe this is just my natural form, darlin'."

You'd set the pan aside to dry on your dishrack, then you glanced at him over your shoulder. "I hardly believe you were...whoever this is before."

You felt tempted to start making guesses as to what, exactly, he did before the outbreak, but knew that was not a good idea.

"Think you know me?" He'd asked, voice a tad more serious.

The pot in your grip nearly slipped from it. Afraid of him hearing your voice shake, you'd instead merely shrugged.

He got down from the barstool, sliding Lucille off of the counter—you knew he'd just covered it in scratches—before coming to stand beside you. So close you could feel his body heat.

"Go ahead, take a guess. Try and read me."

You look up at him and he's looking down at you with an amused smirk.

Your next question catches him completely off-guard. "What happened to you?" You'd asked it barely above a whisper, brows furrowed.

His features shifted, his smile disappeared at the look of pity in your eyes when you gazed up at him. He leaned in close and it took everything in you not to step back and away from him. "You're on thin fuckin' ice, girl."

The two of you had stayed like that for awhile, him staring you down—you could swear he'd glanced at your lips, but it'd happened so quickly that you weren't sure—you doing your utmost to understand what the hell was wrong with him, until he'd finally turned his back to you, slamming your front door behind himself.

You felt lucky the small glass windows on it hadn't shattered from the force.

As Negan heads down the hall, he hears voices drifting down from upstairs. He tells himself that, if it turns out you're busy hosting male company, he won't care. But his hand still tightens around Lucille's grip, imagines of beating someone's face to a bloody pulp in his mind.

Heavy boots thump against the stairs, until he's reached the top step and sees Denise and Rosita standing on either side of the doorway to your bedroom. He nearly makes an inappropriate joke, until Tara leaves, walking past without even acknowledging him, as she wipes a tear from her cheek, going downstairs.

A heavy feeling settles into the pit of his stomach.

As he gets closer, Rosita blocks the doorway. She may be half his size, but she won't just let him in. Won't let him near you. Not while you're barely hanging on as it is.

"Get. Out." She spits at him.

He merely pushes her out of the way, not turning back as she shouts "Hey!".

Everything moves in slow-motion as he takes you in. Your emaciated form, the pallor of your skin which is covered in a rash, the sheen of sweat on your face, the shallow breaths escaping your lips, the rapid rise-and-fall of your chest, and your eyes as they keep opening and closing every few moments, your pupils seemingly dilated.

Denise walks over, checking your pulse, then glancing to the doorway—to Rosita—shaking her head.

"What's wrong with her?" Negan's voice—his tone as serious as anyone in Alexandria has ever heard it— breaks the silence.

"She's sick, pendejo," Rosita replies with vehmence.

He lets the insults slide. He has more pressing matters at-hand.

He shouldn't have waited so damn long to come visit you again.

Why had he waited so long?

He sits on the edge of your bed, gently, as if he'd afraid any sudden movement may harm you. He looks at Denise, waiting for an answer.

"She went on a run a few days ago. She said she just...wanted to get outside...for whatever reason. Didn't seem like herself. And not long after coming back...she developed a rash, a fever, headache-"

She's interrupted by you doubling over the side of the bed and Negan quickly picks up the empty trash can you're aiming for, but all you manage to do is dry-heave.

Denise continues, arms crossed. "Vomiting—but because she can't keep anything down now, she refuses to eat. Hasn't done so in two days"

He sets the trash can back on the floor, smoothing hair away from where it's now stuck to your damp forehead.

"She has Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. She must've gotten bit by a tick. Something so small..." She trails off. "She doesn't have long left without medication."

Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Rosita, Abe, along with a few others, had torn apart what local pharmacies they could find, but the drug was scarce—nowhere to be found.

Negan turns back toward her. "What does she need?" He asks, tone harsh.

"Doxycycline. We used to keep it in-stock here."

"Why the hell don't you anymore?"

Rosita replies with a sneer. "Because your people took all of it!" She shouts, unable to hide her contempt for the man.

A pained look flashes across his features. He then turns back to you.

This was his fault.

If you died...your blood would be on his hands.

He won't let that happen.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, not caring if they see. As he pulls away, he sees that your eyes are now closed. "Just get some rest, sweetheart. I'll be back soon."

As he exits your room, he grabs Denise by the elbow. "Tell me what you need and I'll make sure you get it." He looks at her. "No strings attached."

Not that you'd ever know, but as you slowly recovered, Negan had been on a damn tear at the Sanctuary. Once he'd had the medication you so desperately needed delivered to Denise—along with anything else she asked after for you—he demanded to know, from his men, why they had taken so damn much, leaving you all with nothing to help yourselves with.

They'd told him it's what he had wanted—what he'd ordered. He really just wanted someone else to blame for you nearly losing your life over needing a damn antibiotic.

He'd gotten a lot of use out of Lucille against some walkers near the back fences for a couple of days.

He had delivered the medications himself, and watched as she began to administer treatment to you, even if you fought her at first, thinking she was trying to feed you again.

He'd had to—reluctantly—help hold you down as she practically forced the pills down your throat.

You'd stared at him wide-eyed and terrified, no sense of recognition in your gaze as you looked up at him. Something about that—you having no idea who he was—broke something small inside of him.

He'd merely muttered that he was trying to help. That you'd get better soon and this would all make sense. That it would all be okay soon.

He hadn't left until you'd fallen asleep once it was dark. Had nearly told Rosita to shove it when she'd come to check on you and saw him there at your bedside, watching over you.

After that night, Negan had to be away for a few days, tending to business elsewhere, even if he'd been chomping at the bit to get back to you.

When he finally came through Alexandria's gate, however, he'd pulled up right outside of your house, practically bounding up the steps to get up to your bedroom.

And when he did, his knees nearly gave out from the sense of utter relief that washed over him.

You were sitting up in bed, eating—a tray in your lap with vegetable soup and crackers on it, a glass full of juice next to it—your free hand holding a novel open as you read.

A natural flush now graced your cheeks, your rash all but gone, and you looked well-rested.

You set your book down, looking at him leaning in the doorway, a small smirk on his lips.

"See you're all better."

"I hear I have you to thank for it."

He'd merely shrugged, pulling the chair that'd been returned to its rightful spot across the room in front of your desk, around to the side of the bed once more.

He rested an ankle over a knee. "Just a bottle of pills."

"And food, water, juice, and anti-nausea-"

"Going to list off your whole damn inventory here?"

"All of that came from yours," you replied, taking a sip of your soup, licking your lips.

He tells himself seeing you do that does nothing for him.

He doesn't reply to that statement. Merely looks at the window across the room, then back to you. "Just glad you're recovering."

"Are you?" You take another sip.

His brows furrow. "Why would you ever think otherwise?"

You shrug. "You like to pretend you don't care about anything—not individuals, at least—so-"

"Maybe you're the exception," he states, completely serious.

You'd only ever seen him so deadpan one other time.

He'd come over late, the sun just beginning to set.

You'd been sitting at your dining room table, pushing food around your plate, lost inside your head. You hadn't even noticed he was inside your house until he sat down across from you. "Not gonna make me a plate?" He asked, leaning back.

You hadn't even looked at him.

Instead, your features had darkened, and you'd retreated further inside yourself.

He'd known by the look in your eyes that something was deeply wrong.

He'd leaned toward you then, forearms resting upon the table. "Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?"

"Go away," you'd said quietly, but firmly.

Leaving you alone like that was the last thing he intended to do.

"And leave to brood all on your lonesome? Not likely."

A tear slipped from your eye and you'd quickly wiped it away in irritation. "I don't want you here."

His lip had twitched. "Join the club."

The both of you had been quiet for a moment until he'd spoken again. "Listen, I don't know if it's something that happened today, or a long time ago, but I'll listen if you-"

You'd picked up your plate then, stood—your chair scraping against the floor—before smashing it on the ground.

You sat back down, slumping forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, burying your face in your hands as you began to cry.

He'd stood after a moment, walking over to the record player in your living room, browsing your selection of music until he settled on a particular song.

He'd walked back over, shrugging off his leather jacket before holding out his hand toward you. "Dance with me."

You'd quieted, looking up at him, giving him a look like he was insane. "What?"

"Give me your hand."

Instead of waiting for an answer, he'd reached down, sliding his palm against yours, pulling you up from your seat.

Just as he'd gotten you halfway to the living room, you'd pulled your hand free from his.

He'd turned back to you, but you'd merely began beating your fists against his chest. And he let you. Let you push him, slap and punch. He could take it. Wanted to if it made you feel better—by any extent.

Until, finally, you'd calmed enough that he pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you swayed back and forth.

You'd cried against his chest, small sobs wracking through your body as Sam Cooke sang about wanting to marry and take someone home.

Finally, you reply to Negan's comment about you being an exception to him.

"I bet you tell that to all your girls."

"No. Because none of them are."

The two of you sit in silence as you finish eating, him taking your tray as you lie back down to rest.

You swear you hear him say something quietly about missing you as he stands in the doorway—about to head back downstairs—but you don't catch it as you fall off to sleep.

#fic: twd (negan smith x reader) #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x y/n #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd x reader

[vote2]

oh my god.......

#finished migrations. the last few chapters of that book... oh my god... #revoking calling franny an epic divorce woman because well yknow. #oh my god..... #just a rush. insanity. #the novel was cometely not what i thought it was going to be btw i was expecting a woman following the birds and it being p much #just introspection and retrospective not like. plot and rush of stuff yknow #i do reccomend it though mwah miss mcconaghey youve done it #very impressed w how she handled the constant jumping between flashbacks and now and the rate at which stuff was revealed to the #reader it never felt like it was interrupting anything or that i felt impatient like 'just get on w it' genuinly the most impressive part #wow just like.... yeah #not a fan in general ever of 'humans are a plague' that was a constant thing But i dont think thats what she meant plus #niall did explicitly mention like 'corporations have chosen profit over the planet' etc but just on the scale of the novel sometimes jt #came across as that in a few flashback moments #but so nice. again charming isnt the right word. just a nice nove yknow

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.

↳ pairings: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.

↳ author's note: if you tilt your head, step back a couple feet, and squint your eyes you’ll see it’s based if you are in love by taylor swift.

THIRD PERSON POV

if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.

the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.

and boy did he make some memories.

FLASHBACK

"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.

"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.

the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.

matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.

"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.

"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.

"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.

"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.

a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.

when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.

however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.

however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.

he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.

FLASHBACK OVER

in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.

they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.

however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.

matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.

"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.

"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.

"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.

"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."

"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.

as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.

as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.

matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.

"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.

"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.

"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.

"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.

as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.

sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come  looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.

the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.

"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.

"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.

"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.

"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.

as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.

as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.

"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.

"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.

"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."

"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.

"that's what this is about?"

"y/n, drop it please."

"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."

"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.

"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.

"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,

"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"

"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.

the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.

"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.

"a kiss, dumbass."

"yeah but is this the first time or?"

"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.

"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.

falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.

and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.

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[withwritersblock]

I Was In Love

~I Was In Love by Born Without Bones~

Author's Note: I think this may actually be my favorite song and one shot I've done so far :) oh also italics as always are flashbacks Summary: Luke and Y/N have a complicated history: Quinn is stuck in the middle of it Warnings: implied smut, swearing, some other things I probably should add but I'm not sure Word Count: 5,485 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

He was only supposed to walk her back to her dorm building, but then it started raining. There was no way she was going to let him walk back to his dorm building with the pouring rain. So he stepped inside, it was innocent until it wasn’t. 

She wasn’t sure how it happened but his lips were sucking the skin right above her collarbone as his hands were massaging her breast through the lace of her bra. She panted hard as she pulled her fingers through the thickness of his curls. 

He lifted his head and looked down towards her, a smile on his lips as he kissed her urgently. “Is this okay?” he asked as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“Very,” she muttered before she sealed her lips over his once more. She tugged at the hem of his black button up. He stood up as he began unbuttoning it, a wide toothy grin on his lips as he looked over her gorgeous frame. She bit her lip excitedly as he leaned towards her again, the shirt completely unbuttoned, his muscles in full view. He kissed her lips briefly before he flung the shirt away from his body.

Her hands wrapped around the base of his neck, running her fingers through his curls as he kept one hand beside her head as he was holding himself up and his other hand was gripping her hip.  He slowly pulled his lips from hers, meeting her gaze for a brief second as he began to trail wet kisses from her jawline and lower and lower on her body. He wanted to taste every part of her and she wanted to feel his tongue on every single part of her body. 

The rest of the night went by in a blurr. She never thought that her longest friend, her best friend, would be in her bed doing things she could only allow her mind to go. But he did and it was the best sex she ever had.

She woke up to see him already awake and staring towards the ceiling. She smiled softly as she looked towards him, but the frown on his lips slipped the smile off of hers instantly.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she rubbed her hand across her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he stood up searching the room for his shirt and pants that he came into her room wearing. His boxers the only thing covering his frame, “We were drunk, we shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” 

“Well yeah but what if we could be-”

He pulled his jeans up his frame, quickly buttoning them as he avoided her gaze. “You’re the last person I wanted to have a drunken hookup with, I’m sorry.” he said while shaking his head. He picked his shirt up from the floor as he covered his frame, “Can we talk about this later? I’m running late for practice,” he offered as he quickly slipped on his shoes and left the dorm room.

She sat up straight, feeling her eyes well up in tears. It was as if her heart completely shattered at that moment. All she has ever wanted was to be something more with Luke. She was madly in love with him and maybe that was her turning point, last night. She thought maybe that meant he was in love with her too.

That was five months ago. They never spoke about it again, rarely saw each other again. Luke had moved to New Jersey to pursue his dream of playing in the NHL. They only briefly saw each other during passing at school before he left. She avoided him the entire time and it felt like he was avoiding her too.

Except today was the first day that she was going to see him again. A few years ago, the older Hughes brother’s bought the lakehouse that was directly next to their longest family friends growing up. Y/N and her family. She was driving her own car towards her lakehouse, like she’s done since she was sixteen. Except the entire time she was filled with dread as her boyfriend, Kyle, was sitting in the passenger seat beside her. 

They had only been together for three months but her parents agreed to let him join and she was excited to spend the time with Kyle but also hating the idea that she would have to see Luke and Kyle in the same room.

She nervously tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as they pulled into her spot in the garage as it was big enough to hold two spots. 

“So these guys that own the place next door, are we going to be seeing them a lot?” Kyle asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Y/N widened her eyes slightly as she forced a smile.

“They should be inside right now actually,” Y/N mumbled as she reluctantly unbuckled her seatbelt. She didn’t want to see Luke again, except every part of her body felt weak knowing he was only a few doors away. 

“Good, I mean it’s good to meet them now,” he muttered as he pushed the passenger door open and climbed out of the car. She followed in pursuit. He waited for her at the door to enter her house with a kind smile. She returned it as she wrapped her arms around his chest giving him a quick hug.

“I’m excited to spend the next few weeks with you,” she mumbled against her chest. He kissed the side of her head before he pulled away. They stepped inside the house, “Can you actually put our suitcases and stuff in my room, right over there?” she asked, suddenly wanting to see the brothers by herself first. 

Kyle nodded excitedly before he stepped out of the door towards the car again. Y/N took a deep breath as she walked through the hallway leading towards her kitchen. 

The three boys were hanging out around the kitchen island. Quinn was sitting on a barstool chair holding a seltzer against his lips. Jack was sitting on the countertop staring at his phone. Luke was leaning against the countertop as he was snacking on some of the chips her mother probably set up for them.

“You guys do realize your house is next door right?” she said as she walked towards the kitchen.

Quinn turned around and smiled widely when he saw her walking towards the three of them. Jack hopped off of the counter as he chuckled. Luke turned his gaze towards her and looked as if he saw a ghost. He stayed frozen as he watched her walk towards them.

“Your mom buys the best snacks,” Quinn said excitedly as he engulfed her in a tight hug. “How’ve you been?” he asked as he rested his hand onto her upper arm, surveying her features. Jack jogged towards her hugging her tightly, she laughed as she rocked back and forth with him.

“I’ve been doing good, how are you guys?” she said as Jack pulled away. She glanced towards Luke, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she stepped inside the house.

“Off season started a bit early but otherwise we’re great, ready for some sun,” Quinn muttered as he pulled Y/N to his side again, Quinn looked towards Luke for a few seconds, “Lukey, are you going to say hi?” Quinn offered tilting his head to the side.

Luke shook his head slightly as he stood up from his leaning position and he took a deep breath as he began walking towards her and Quinn slowly.

“Well, actually I should go check on Kyle. Make sure he didn’t get lost,” she slipped from Quinn’s grasp as she started walking away from them.

“Kyle?” Luke let out. Y/N spun around to meet Luke’s gaze. She widened her eyes as she nodded.

“My boyfriend? Did my mom not tell you guys he was joining us for a few weeks out here?” she offered.

“Y/N?” Kyle called out from the back hallway. She forced a smile as she searched down the hall for him.

“Hey baby,” she said as she stepped into her bedroom, her voice echoing into the kitchen.

“Kyle?” Jack let out barely above a whisper, his face scrunched up in disgust. “Did you know she had a boyfriend?” Jack pointed his question to Luke. Luke crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head. Jack stared towards him furrowing his eyebrows harshly, “Why are you acting weird?” 

“I’m not,” he mumbled before he started shoving more chips in his mouth. Quinn and Jack shared a look before they decided to drop it. 

Y/N and Kyle walked from the hallway together side by side. Hearing his heavy footsteps, Luke kept his gaze on the sour cream and onion chips in front of him as he continued to snack. Y/N nervously wrapped her arm around Kyle as she walked towards the kitchen.

“Kyle, these are the boys,” she muttered motioning towards them, “That’s Quinn, Jack, and that’s L-Luke,” she pointed out each of the guys individually. Quinn and Jack walked towards the pair, each of them forcing a smile. 

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn offered his hand and Kyle gladly took it. Kyle offered his hand towards Jack and he reluctantly took the handshake. 

Luke leaned upward from his leaning position as he slowly walked towards the small group. Y/N looked towards him, their eyes meeting for the first time in months. Her breath caught in her throat as she forced her gaze to meet Kyle. 

Kyle offers his hand to Luke and Luke shakes his hand with a polite smile. “You go to UMich?” Luke asked as he rested his hands on his hips. 

Kyle nodded, “Yeah, I’m on the wrestling team,” he smiled as he spoke. 

“That’s sick,” Quinn offered as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

The small group continued to talk to one another beside Luke. He kept watching Y/N, his longest friend, his best friend. The woman he loved, in a relationship with someone else. The last time they hung out crossed his mind, like it did a thousand times a day. 

He freaked out. He freaked out when he woke up with her back pressed against his chest and their legs entangled together. His heart swelled with so much happiness as he looked at her sleeping beside him that morning, except every other part of his body resorted to panic. 

His eyes meet Y/N’s gaze, scanning her features for any sign that she thinks about that night too. She clenched her jaw before she turned her gaze back to Quinn. Luke pulled his lips between his teeth as he dropped his gaze to the floor. 

“I’m going to go unpack my stuff,” Luke let out as his gaze met each person in the small room. Quinn pulled his head back as he let out a breathy chuckle. 

“You never unpack when we come here,” Quinn offered.

“Feel like using my dresser for once,” he said with a simple shrug before glancing towards Y/N one more time before he started walking out of the kitchen. 

“We should probably unpack too,” Kyle said as he rested his hand on her hip as he held her possessively to his side. Y/N nodded as the pair walked back towards her room, she spun her gaze around towards the back door that Luke walked out of.

Quinn and Jack looked towards each other awkwardly as they both started walking out of the back door. “They’re acting weird, right?” Jack asked.

“Very,” Quinn shot back as they walked out of the house back towards their own.

After another twenty minutes Quinn and Jack both barged into Luke’s room to see him actually unpacking his clothes and putting them into his dresser and closet. He had soft country music playing as he was pacing around the room putting things in random spots.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked as he watched his younger brother. Luke only hummed as a reply as he added his hoodies to a coat hanger. “Are you sure? You and Y/N never shut up when you two are together.” Jack observed. 

“We haven’t really talked these past few months,” he said as he walked towards his closet with the six hoodies he brought with him. 

“You guys used to never go a day without at least calling each other,” Quinn mumbled. 

Luke shrugged, “Things change,” he said keeping his gaze low and away from his brothers bombarding him with questions.

“What things?” Jack muttered. Luke shrugged his shoulders again.

Quinn furrowed his eyebrows harshly, “What, you guys hook up or something?” he asked teasingly, chuckling nervously.

Luke froze, his entire body stuck as he slowly met Quinn’s gaze for a few seconds before he shook his head. “No,” he let out barely above a whisper. He dropped his gaze again as his cheeks turned bright red. 

Jack’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped open as he shoved Quinn to the side. “When?!” Jack asked as he jumped up excitedly. 

“I said we didn’t,” Luke said as he nervously ran his hand across his chin. 

Quinn smiled widely, “Yeah but you're a horrible liar, Lukey. What happened? Was it bad or something?” 

It was the opposite. It was probably the best sex he’s ever had. It made him realize how much love he actually had for her as they didn’t just hook up. It felt like the start of something, a new chapter. A chapter where they were madly in love with one another.

“What? No,” he defended as he rolled his eyes.

“Then what happened?” Jack pressed.

Luke sighed as he shook his head, “I don’t know, I asked if we could talk about it later and we never did,” he took another deep breath.

“When did you guys-?” Quinn trailed off.

Luke threw his hands to the side, not wanting to talk about it any longer, “February, her sorority had some Valentine’s Day event we went to together. I walked her back to her dorm and we hooked up. Are you guys done asking questions?”

“No, dude, why didn’t you guys talk again?”

Luke clenched his jaw as he shook his head. His brothers were right, he was an awful liar. “I freaked out, okay?” he took a deep breath, “She’s my best friend and instead of telling her how I felt, I had sex with her while we were drunk. That’s a dickhead move. I just didn’t know what to say,”

“What’d you freak out about?” Jack asked.

“Everything was going to be different with her,” he let out while shaking his head, “I didn’t want to lose her, if I fucked things up and I fucked things up anyway. Can we please stop talking about it? I don’t want to be thinking about it while we all on the boat later,”

~~~

It was nine at night and the sun was already down but they were still hanging out on the boat. The music was loud to the point where you could only hear the person next to each other talk. Her parents were sitting and talking with Quinn and Jack as Ellen and Jim were talking with Luke. Y/N and Kyle were in their own world. 

Except every time Luke spoke, Y/N felt her heart flutter. She missed him, she missed him so much that it was physically painful. Her chest would ache hard at the idea of not talking with him.

Y/N kept her gaze on Luke, discreetly. “You okay?” Kyle whispered into her ear, pulling her gaze towards him. She nodded as she leaned towards him, kissing him briefly.

Luke was tuning out whatever his mom and dad were talking about as he saw Y/N kissing Kyle. He felt as though his heart shattered. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his gaze towards his lap. Quinn glanced towards Y/N briefly before he looked towards his youngest brother. He clenched his jaw as he shook his head. 

“You know,” her mother leaned towards Quinn, “I always thought Y/N and Luke would’ve ended up together.” Quinn's eyes widened as he looked towards her, “It just seems like they are growing apart. Breaks my heart,” she said as she tilted her head to the side.

“You don’t like Kyle?” Quinn asked, and she shrugged.

“He’s a sweet boy. He’s just not our Luke,” 

“I think we all thought they were going to end up together,” Quinn whispered towards her and she nodded. 

~~~

The next day, Y/N and Kyle stayed in bed for a few extra hours just basking in each other's company. “You know, I thought you and Luke were the closest? I mean being the same age at least,”

She was thrown off by the sudden subject change as her face scrunched up slightly. She cleared her throat as she nodded, “We were,” she started as she saw Kyle take in a sharp breath. “He was my best friend, but we had a falling out a few months ago,” she mumbled. 

Memories of the night in question flashed in her mind. His lips against her own as they were breathing heavily and grinding against each other's bodies. She recalled feeling her body fill with butterflies as he kissed her in the most dream-like way.

“What happened?” he asked. She looked into his dark brown eyes as she tried to figure out if she should tell the truth. Kyle nodded slightly as he took in a deep breath, “Let me guess,” he mumbled, “You guys had sex?” 

She clenched her jaw as she nodded slightly. “How’d you know?” she muttered as she met his gaze.

“I don’t know, it’s the way he looks at you; like he’s seen you naked or something,” he mumbled, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. She smiled softly as she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“It just made things awkward between us, we haven’t spoken since it happened,” she let out. He remained silent as he processed, “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” she asked.

“No, I mean as long as it was just sex. Like you didn’t have feelings for him, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, no-no feelings,” she mumbled.

~~~

She sat on the bathroom counter, his legs between her own. She adjusted the red heart around his neck that had her name written in cursive across it. “I never thought you would join a sorority,” he let out as he rested one of his hands on her thigh. She smiled as a chuckle fell from her lips. 

“It looks good on a resume,” she mumbled as she took a hold of a spray bottle and started spraying it onto his curls. His face scrunched up together as some of the mist hit his face. 

“This is tacky,” he continued, holding up the heart around his neck. She smirked as she took a hold of some of her own hair product and ran her fingers through his hair. “Do we have to wear these the whole night?” 

“Yes, Lukey,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side as she admired the work she did on his hair. “And until I get a boyfriend, you have to be my date to these things,” she said as she pushed him backwards slightly so she could hop off the bathroom counter. 

She adjusted the short black dress on her frame as she looked towards the mirror. She straightened out the red heart with Luke’s name. “What are we even going to do there?” he asked as he ran his fingers through his own hair. 

“Drink, dance, and take lots of photos,” she mumbled as she applied lip gloss to her lips. Luke eyed her lips as she added the clear gloss. “It’ll be fun,” she mumbled as she turned to meet his gaze. 

He huffed as he smiled, “You and I have different definitions of fun,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a hold of her phone and pulled out her camera. “Oh awesome, fun’s starting now,” he said sarcastically.

“You can be unbearable sometimes, you know that?” she let out teasingly as she wrapped her arm around the center of his back as he draped his arm around her lowerback. He pulled her tightly towards him. 

“Yeah, you too,” he shot back as he turned his head towards her with a teasing smile. She rolled her eyes as she snapped the photo of them at that moment.

“Smile,” she mumbled as she turned her gaze towards the mirror and snapped a few photos of them. Most of them are Luke glancing towards her the entire time. 

~~~

Later that night, Y/N stepped foot inside her own lakehouse, getting another drink from the fridge inside when she saw Luke sitting on the barstool beside her kitchen island. He lifted his gaze as he tossed a few chips into his mouth. His eyes scanned her body. Taking note of every single curve of her frame and how the two piece swimsuit showed every perfect part of her body. 

“Hi,” she let out as she smiled softly. He returned the soft smile as he sat up straight as she walked past the kitchen island.

“Hey,” he mumbled as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. They remained silent as she took a Truly from the fridge and cracked it open. She spun around and met his gaze. “Kyle seems nice,” he mumbled. She smiled.

“Yeah, he is,” she muttered as she brought the can to her lips. 

Their eyes remained connected as they remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes were soft and welcoming; he looked like he knew what she was thinking. All of things that have been left unsaid between them, it was as if their eyes were doing all the talking. Her heart went into overdrive.

Her eyes tried not to admire his body. His abs were prominent as well as the strong arm muscles. She took a deep breath as she rested her hands onto the counter. 

“How’s the NHL?” she asked. His eyes widened as he smiled softly.

“It’s amazing,” he mumbled, his eyes squinting slightly.

“You were fun to watch,” she let out as she met his gaze. He tilted his head to the side, a toothy grin on his lips.

“You watched the games?” he asked, genuinely shocked. She nodded dramatically. 

“You are still my best friend, Luke, Of course I was going to watch,” she mumbled as she met his gaze as she walked closer to him. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he looked away from her. 

“You seem happy,” he mumbled, unable to maintain eye contact with her. 

“Yeah, yeah.” she let out while shaking her head, “You too. I mean you’re living the dream, right?”

All he could do was hum as a reply as she was only a foot away from him and his chest was aching as he felt a magnet pulling her towards him but he tried to refuse the feeling and the desperation. 

“Why are you all alone inside? We’ve got an amazing bonfire going,” she asked as she leaned against the countertop. 

He couldn’t tell her the real answer. The real answer was that he had spent twenty-four hours watching Y/N and Kyle snuggle together and he was getting tired of it. He couldn’t breathe watching them because he wanted to kiss her cheek. He wanted to be the one holding her tightly. He wanted to be the one who loved her. He had to walk away and collect his thoughts.

While outside, Quinn was laughing at something Jack said when Kyle walked up to him. “Hey man, can I talk to you about something?” Kyle asked. Quinn’s smile slowly faded as he glanced towards Jack before he stood up and followed Kyle towards a secluded part of the backyard. Quinn nervously crossed his arms over his chest as he met Kyle’s gaze. “I’m gonna ask you a question and you’re going to not sugar coat anything,” Kyle asked. Quinn nodded.

“I’m not blind, alright? I know that your little brother has feelings for Y/N. She told me about what happened between them a few months back but she said that she didn’t have feelings for him. Is she telling the truth?” Kyle asked. 

Quinn took a deep breath as he licked his lips nervously. “We’re all close with Y/N. Jack and I have always treated her like she’s our little sister. Luke-” 

Quinn took in a sharp breath, “Luke’s been in love with her since he was eleven. He never wanted to act on it because he was terrified of losing her. Y/N was harder to see if she felt the same. Well, until they were like fifteen and they started cuddling all of the time. It was as if they constantly had to be near each other or the other one would implode. She dragged him to all of the school dances and sorority events.” he explained as Kyle was getting impatient.

“Look, they're avoiding each other because they are afraid of getting hurt. Which is causing them to get hurt anyway. You seem like a great guy, who would’ve been perfect for her. But there’s a lot of history between them that can’t be ignored,” 

Kyle remained silent as he took a deep breath. If he was being honest, he knew she wasn’t all in. He wasn’t even all in on the relationship either, it didn’t hurt to hear as much as he thought it was going to be. 

“I appreciate it, man.” Kyle mumbled as his gaze looked past Quinn to see Luke and Y/N walking out of the house together. Kyle let out a dry chuckle, “Can you tell her why I left? I’m going to pack my stuff and call an Uber.” Kyle mumbled. 

“What? You sure?” Quinn asked.

“Like you said, they’ve got history. I’m not stepping between that,” he said as he looked towards Y/N and Luke again. “Make sure they end up together, alright?” he said before he walked towards the house discreetly. 

Quinn stood still, his gaze on the dirt beneath his feet. “What the fuck just happened?” he asked himself as he walked back towards the bonfire. 

After another hour, Kyle was long gone and Y/N still had no idea. “Alright, you guys we’re going to go to bed, see you guys in the morning,” Her father expressed to everyone, the parents all went to their own lakehouse leaving the boys and Y/N alone. 

“Where’d Kyle go? Have you guys seen him?” she asked the three of them as she was starting to get a little worried. 

Quinn’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat, “He left,” is all he said. Luke perked upward at the mention. 

“What?” she let out.

“He-uh-he’s not as comfortable as he thought with you and Luke’s history. So he left,” Quinn said as his voice progressively got quieter. Luke kept shifting his gaze between Quinn and Y/N. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as she leaned forward. 

“Did he tell you this history exactly?” she questioned, glancing at Luke for a second. 

“He might’ve,” he mumbled, glancing towards Luke, “Kinda already knew about it, though.” 

Y/N eyes flashed red as she turned her gaze towards Luke. “Can I talk to you?” she asked, standing up and walking towards Hughes's lakehouse. Luke’s room was on the second floor and his parents room was on the first. In her lakehouse her room was directly next to her parents. 

Luke slowly stood up from his seat, “Thanks,” he said sarcastically as he followed Y/N. Jack and Quinn shared a glance before they looked back towards the dying flame. 

Once Luke stepped into the house, he saw her already storming up the stairs towards his room. He took a deep breath as he skipped several steps to follow her faster. She walked into his room and began to pace back and forth. Luke shut the door behind him.

“You told Quinn!?” she called out. 

“An-and Jack, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to! You know I’m a bad liar,”

“What did you tell them exactly?!” she questioned.

He stayed quiet for a second as his heart was loud in his ear, “Quinn made a joke about us hooking up and I-I didn’t deny it that good so they found out. I told them that we just didn’t talk afterwards, we were just avoiding each other,” he explained.

Her mouth fell open as she nodded slowly. Her tongue pushed to the side of her mouth as she spun around to look away from him for a brief second. 

“Do you remember what you told me the next morning?” she asked, her voice quieter.

He met her gaze and squinted his eyes slightly, “That I was running late to practice and if we could talk about it later?” 

“Before that,”

He thought about it for a second, he replayed every second of that morning in his mind but the words were not coming to his mind. She took a deep breath as she clenched her fist and unclenched it. “You said that I was the last person you’d ever want to have a hookup with. Like-like it was embarrassing to have sex with me,” 

His eyes widened as he felt like punching himself in the chest. “Oh my god-no that’s not-”

“You hurt me, Luke!” she shouted towards him, her eyes welling up in tears.

 “I thought-I thought,” she shook her head again, “I don’t know what I thought but that was horrible to hear. Especially from you! You were supposed to be my best friend.” she shouted towards him. 

“That’s not what I meant!” he said loudly, “That not what I meant,” he let out softer as he stepped towards her, almost reaching out to touch her. 

“You know, I cared a lot about Kyle! We could’ve been something great. He was sweet and charming and he would’ve never said that to me but you-you ruined that!” she shouted as she stared deeply into his eyes. The tension was rising between them as they were only a foot apart.

“Well, if you care about the guy so much why aren’t you going after him?! Huh? Why are you standing here, shouting at me?!” he countered, getting closer to her face. She clenched her jaw as her heart was beating hard against her chest. Her skin felt hot as if steam was leaving her body. 

“I don’t know!” she shouted back as her eyes looked deeply into his eyes. His eyes were staring hard back towards her. 

“You didn’t deserve our first time together to be a drunken hook up,” he expressed, taking another step towards her. “You deserved roses and candles and all that sappy romantic shit not some dorm bed we barely fit on,” he continued as he scanned her softening features.

“Luke-”

“I couldn’t tell you I loved you, I couldn’t tell you because I was scared I was going to lose my best friend. And then I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he explained as they were mere inches apart now. “You deserved better than that and I couldn’t face it,” he mumbled. 

She leaned towards him, urgently kissing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt her body jump against him. 

He quickly took a hold of her lower back pulling her towards him. The tension between them only increased as their lips remained connected sloppily.

She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her bare thighs against his body rushed goosebumps against her skin. 

He delicately laid her down onto his bed as his lips pulled away from hers briefly, admiring her features from the very short distance.

“I love you too,” she mumbled as she ran her fingers through the ends of his curls. He pecked her lips briefly before he leaned fully away from her. “Where are you going?” she asked barely above a whisper.

“We’re not doing this now,” he muttered as shook his head. He stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet to give her some clothes to sleep in. Instead of the swimwear still covering her frame.

“Why not?” she asked, pouting slightly. He smiled widely as he tossed her one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts she left at his dorm several months back. 

“Candles and roses,” he mumbled as he covered his frame in one of his hoodies. She smiled widely as she began to put on the clothes he handed her.

#luke hughes #luke hughes series #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils #nj devils

[cjjohansson]

from across the room, to between the sheets.

natasha romanoff x reader. - for months you have been longing for her. tonight it finally changes. -

reader has a penis. fluff? SMUT! oblivious reader? who knows. i don't.

18+!!!!!

It first happened at a party Tony hosted. You thought it was innocent at first. The way she kept staring at you while she stood with her boyfriend's arm around her shoulders. But everytime she looked at you, you couldn't help but stare back. Your eyes continuously move slowly down her body, drinking her in. She has always been beautiful. Sexy even. And anyone who ever told you that THE Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, wasn't beautiful or sexy…were simply blind or idiots. 

You could talk about her for hours. Well at the start it was mainly about her body. But after that one party conversations flowed through you both. They came naturally. The connection instantly there as you spoke about everything and nothing at the same time. 

You both bonded over your traumatic childhoods at 3am when you were both plagued by nightmares. Which you always found amusing at how you both found each other even when you both lived at 2 different ends of the Avengers compound. 

You were a SHIELD agent and one of the best so to say. You weren't originally based there, you had only recently been moved a few weeks before the party.  

But it was like as soon as you both laid eyes on eachother you were both hooked. Like it was a secret connection that no one could know about. Her boyfriend was on the team. It would cause problems at work and it wasn't worth it. But she WAS worth it. 

The times she held you in her arms when you couldn't shake off a bad flashback after a nightmare. Her hand carding through your hair, her body pressed tightly against hers. You would be dead if her boyfriend had seen. 

You were friends. Good friends. But nobody knew. Nobody could ever know. She was technically your superior. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! 

Tony practically hosted parties every month. 

The same thing happening over and over. You would feel her eyes on your back and when you turned you were always met with her low smirk and longing eyes. But again he was always next to her. 

It happened for months, secret meet ups whenever one of you had a nightmare, your phone flashing up filling your dark room. A text from her. Always a simple text. ‘The garden.’ You would be out of bed in seconds. You had even gone as far to change the ringtone of her text, even when sleep filled you the sound of your phone recognising her text tone brought you straight out of sleep. 

It was difficult. Being friends with her was difficult, even though it felt like the easiest thing in the world. You started to think about her more often. She would plague your thoughts, the need to be next to her filled your bones. All you could think about was her, every second of every day she was in your head. There was no doubt that by this point you had fallen in love with her. She wasn't just beautiful or sexy. She was caring, strong minded, and intelligent. She was no longer just a body you could admire from far away. She was now a real human who your heart couldn't not fall for. It was stupid. 

God of course it was stupid. The whole time, from the moment you met her, she belonged to someone else. Her body laid with another. But your brain couldn't stop telling you maybe she liked you too. Why else would she seek comfort in another when she has someone already?

You always wanted to ask, but part of you also never wanted to know the truth. So you never asked. 

You thought a secret was better than nothing. So if that was the only way you could have her then that is how you would take it. 

But that all seemed to change when Tony hosted another party 8 months after you had first laid eyes on her. 

Your body shook in the elevator as you made your way to the party floor. The frill of finally seeing her again consumed you. You hadn't seen her for a week, she had been away on a mission and when she had come back you had them left for one too. You had only gotten home that morning. You couldn't wait to see her across the room, couldn't wait to see her smirk fill her face as your own eyes took her whole self in. 

You heard her before you saw her. Her infectious laugh had your head instantly turning to the bar where she stood with no other than Clint Barton. You knew he was her best friend. Maybe now after 8 months you could finally approach her in public but your whole body froze when you saw Bucky Barnes, her boyfriend, walk up behind her and throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. You turned in the other direction after that. But if you hadn’t maybe you would have seen the way she pushed him off of her and punched his shoulder calling him an idiot. 

You once again stood far away from her, but never once letting her out of your sight. You wondered if she could feel your eyes on her. And your question was answered when she turned away from the bar and her eyes instantly met yours. You had to hold the blush that threatened to creep up your throat over her finding you. But that wasn't what shocked you. What shocked you was her turning back to the bar and grabbing another beer, her feet moving her in your direction and before you knew it she stood in front of you. 

It was like you could feel everyone's eyes on you. People were definitely wondering why Natasha was approaching you of all people. Especially Bucky Barnes. 

“I missed you this week.” Natasha sheepishly muttered as she handed you the beer from her hand. Your blush came at full force then. “I missed you too.” You couldn't help but take a nervous sip of your drink as she chuckled at you. 

“Stop thinking about everyone staring at us.” Nat said louder this time, her eyes staring intensely into yours. “Well it is very hard to not think about it when your boyfriend looks like he wants to come over here and rip my head off.” You chuckle back at her taking another sip on your drink, but quickly shut yourself up when you notice her confused expression on her face. “And who is my boyfriend?” You choked on the drink in your mouth. Was she being serious? “Er? Bucky?” You reply, nerves filing your body once again. She laughed loudly at your reply, jokingly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. You had never felt so confused. “Bucky? My boyfriend. No, definitely not.” Okay, definitely confused.

“Wait, what? He isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Have I ever said he was?”

“Well no, I just, whenever we are at parties he always has his arm around you and whispers things in your ear…I just assumed…”

“Ohh you assumed? Well you’re very wrong.” Her smirk back on her face as she now takes a sip from her drink. Her eyes flutter over your face, then they lower, following your whole body as she takes in your suit. “You look really, really nice tonight.” Natasha’s voice turns husky as she takes a step closer towards you. Your body is heating up over just her voice, your head feeling dizzy at how perfect this woman is. You manage to swallow the breath you were holding and find the courage to reply, “And you Tasha, are looking as beautiful as ever.” Her cheeks flood red, she lowers her head in embarrassment, you already knew how much she hated being complimented. 

You feel your arm move before your brain can actually catch up, your arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. Part of you expected her to back away. But instead she willingly moves closer herself, her right hand coming up and laying on your chest. 

You can feel everyone's eyes on you even more than you did a moment ago. The movement is so intimate and vulnerable. And she, the big bad Black Widow, was letting it happen. You feel as she takes a breath, her head finally lifting. Her eyes meet yours. And it feels as though everyone who was staring is no longer in the room. It is just you and her. 

“I don't know if it is just liquid courage, and I promise I’m definitely not drunk but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while…” Natasha breaths out, nerves filling her body, an action you feel is so rare from the woman in front of you. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I…I have liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you 8 months ago in this very room. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you…I just, I didn't want to lose whatever we had but I spoke to Clint and…”

“You spoke to Clint about me?” A teasing grin falls on your face, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy over her admission. “Is that all you have to say about what I just told you? Come on Y/n…I like you, and I like you a lot, like you consume…” Your hand touches her cheek first, your fingers play with some hair that has fallen onto her face. “Can you stop talking for 2 seconds and let me kiss you Tasha.” 

“Yes, yeah. I would very much like…” Your lips touch hers before she can finish her sentence. Your hand on her cheek holds her securely on your lips. Both of you move together, you move as one. Her hand curls around the edge of your suit jacket, pulling you impossibly closer to her. She can most likely feel your heart beating out of your chest as her tongue swipes against your lower lip begging for entrance and you want to allow it but the people in the room come back to your mind as well as your trousers tightening around you. You smile against her lips, her own curling up after yours as you both pull away from one another.

“I wish we could leave right now but people would definitely talk more about us than they are already going too.” She whispers between you both, her lips red and slightly swollen. 

“Yeah well they better not look down then.” You awkwardly murmur to her. Her eyes fly down and then back up again as your cheeks burn red again. “I don’t think I can stay here knowing you have a problem that I am very capable of sorting out.” Natasha huskily replies, her eyes darkening, she looks up at you through her eyelashes and you swear you feel yourself get even harder. You groan in annoyance. Your head leaning down to press into her forehead. “You're killing me right now red…” Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Her head then moves so she can whisper in your ear, “Please, lets just leave…” She practically begs. You nod your head, your body winning over. She turns in your arms. Her ass pressing into you and you have to swallow the moan that comes over you. Your beers are long forgotten on the table you were standing next to. Your heavy arms are now around her waist and you bring her even closer to you. You both walk through the room attached to one another. People stare and all Natasha can do is chuckle at their faces. 

As soon as the elevator doors close, she turns in your arms. Her body once again leaning against yours as she chases your lips. A whimper leaves her mouth as you grip her ass and press her into you, your lips finally meeting hers. Her hand moves down to grip you through your trousers, a moan leaving your mouth at the sudden action. You manage to move your leg between her legs, her body shuddering as you take a hold of her hips. You grind her hips hard into you, her body shaking as she feels your muscles through your trousers. Your own body shudders when you feel how wet she is. 

“Fuckk, baby…” she moans as you start to move her faster against you, her body tensing up, your instinct telling you she is already close to cumming has you moving one of your hand to your trousers and opening them, your trousers becoming painfully tight over the sinful sounds falling from her. Natasha moves her lips down your neck, she bites and sucks all over your neck until you are moaning loudly, her face pulling into a smirk when she realises she has found one of your spots. She chuckles lowly against you but gets cut off as you pull her down even harder onto your leg, her hips moving faster as she suddenly cums. Her body tenses and her head falls against your shoulder. Her breathing fast, while she slows her grinding and then comes to a stop. 

Her hand instantly moves to your boxers but before she can touch you the doors to the elevator open and she is pulling you along to her bed room. 

You're not given the chance to even acknowledge her room as she pushes you up against the wall and her lips are instantly latched back onto yours. Her hand now successfully wraps around your hardened length as she jerks you teasingly. Your hands come up to her back, fingers finding the zip of her dress and pulling it down. She removes herself from you and steps out of her dress, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you take note of her bare body. It somehow makes you feel hotter knowing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. You kick off your own shoes, pull down your own trousers and boxers, kicking them off somewhere in the room as Natasha starts to undo your shirt buttons. But they seem to annoy her as she chooses to rip your shirt instead. 

The showing of her strength has your breathing deepen. She looks up at you innocently, moving to leave a kiss on your lips, you go to chase them but stop when you notice her lowering herself onto the floor. Your eyes follow hers and take note on how she keeps eye contact while she teasingly licks the tip of your dick, your hips buck, impatience filling you, she notices the change in your face, desperation overtaking you and she finally wraps her lips around you. She takes you slowly, her head bobbing up and down until her nose finally touches your stomach. You try to stop yourself from thrusting but the sound of her gagging has you gripping the back on her head and start to fuck her mouth. 

You groan at the muffled sounds coming from her, your abs tightening as you pull her on and off of yourself. “Gon cum if you keep doing that baby girl.” Natasha’s eyes go hazy at your words, her body falling into submission as you bring her back to your tip. “You wanna make me cum?” Your cocky tone turns her on as she nods her head with you in her mouth, she brings one of her hands up to grip onto the base of your cock. Her hand and head falling into a rhythm. “Sh-shittt, gonna, I’m gonna cum.” You husk out, you half expect her to pull away but are met with her eyes connecting to yours once again and her head moving faster, you instantly understand, your hand pulling her hair into a ponytail, and fucking her mouth again, both of your groans fill the room and your body flinches as you finally release your cum into her mouth. She keeps sucking you dry as your body slumps against the door. She eases off of you slowly, getting back up to her feet. Her face comes into view and you feel yourself start to get hard again over the dopey expression on her face and the cum that is glistening on her lips. 

You don't stop yourself when you lean to kiss her, pulling her body closer to you once again. You never want to experience her body never being this close to you ever again. Her stomach presses against your already hard again dick and you pull her over to the bed. You sit comfortably against the headboard while she climbs onto your lap, leaving hot wet kisses over your neck as she grinds her hips over your dick. 

Your hands fall to her hips to lift her up, her hand flies down and moves your head to her opening. You slowly lower her, letting her get used to your size before you even attempt to move. "Fuckkk, baby you're so big." She breathes into your mouth as she starts to move her hips up and down at a slow pace. 

Your brain instantly falls into how you want the rest of this night to go. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah.." You reply as you slowly flip her over, with yourself still inside of her. "Fuck detka..." Natasha pants as you grind into her steadily. The russian falling from her lips turning you on even more. Her face contorts as you hit the perfect spot inside of her, her legs coming to move around your waist holding you tight, her hands falling tightly onto your back as she digs her nails into you.

"Fucking me so good..." Natasha breathlessly moans into the room, her body moving to meet your thrusts halfway. She grinds her hips into yours, her hands stretching down your back, mostly likely leaving blood in their movements, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as you pull out to the tip and slam back into her. 

You pull her hands from your back, not letting up your thrusting as you lay her hands above her head, your hands grip onto hers as you thrust even harder into her, you watch as your hands drain with colour with how tight she is holding you, “Wanna hear you scream for me, baby girl. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You pant out into her ear, her head nods as she moans sinfully. You repeat your action from earlier, you pull out so only the tip is still in her and roughly fill her up again, her moans getting even louder. You don't stop that action, loving the way her eyes close and pornagraphic moans leave her as you fill her up. You fill her up fast, your head moaning down to rest on her shoulder as you groan against her hot skin. Her head flies back at your rough thrusting. 

The whole room feels hot, her skin against yours feels hot. Your deep panting mixing with her moans.

You feel yourself coming closer to the edge, but you want her to cum with you. Your hands release hers and one moves to support yourself on the headboard, her hands moving back to grip your back, your other hand snakes between your bodies reaching her clit. "FUCK, Y/N! Don't stop, don't stop!" Natasha finally screams so loud you fear people at the party will hear her but you don't stop, your dick continues to move inside of her at a fast pace, your thumb speeding up the circles on her clit.

"Want you to cum inside, together." She says before she moves her lips between your neck and collarbone, her teeth biting into the area, she instantly tightens around you, her walls squeezing you to the point you have to change to deeper short thrusts. Your body is on hyperdrive at the thought of painting her walls with your cum. “You feel so fucking good, shittt. I’m gonna cum” Natasha moans.

"Okay baby, okay....cum- cum for me" You stutter out as you feel her gush around you, her cum hitting your stomach as you pull back more, your body tensing as you release inside of her, her body shaking as feels you cum inside. Your thumb slows down along with your hips, silently not wanting this to end. You look down not wanting to miss the way both of your cums mix together and squirt out between your thrusts.

Your moments eventually stop, her hands coming up to play with your hair, your body collapsing onto hers. Your body keeps shuddering as you feel her clench and unclench around you. Your dick already starting to get hard again. She brings your face out of her neck and kisses you slowly. It soon moves to passion as your hips slowly start to move inside of her again. Already wanting to take her all over again. She is like a drug, and you already know you're addicted.

“Fuckk baby, you're perfect, you're mine okay? You're mine…” You moan possessively against her lips, her own lips pulling into a smirk as she whispers back into your lips, “I was yours from the moment we laid eyes on each other.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha x y/n #kinktober #marvel smut #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha x you

[nightingalescall]

Weight of the World

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1(you are here)|part 2

"You really do look like God."

Zephyr caressed your cheek with his thumb as he smiled lovingly at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours before raising his other hand to cup your face.

He stared into your eyes, awestruck before signing blissfully, "You look just like him....". You remained silent at his blatant display of affection. Zephyr continued, nuzzling his nose against yours as he closed his eyes and let out a content chuckle. In an effort to ease the awkwardness you felt from having the saint be so close to you, you adverted your gaze to the side, landing on your and Zephyr's reflection in the standing mirror situated in a corner of your room.

Zephyr was dressed in his usual white robe but today, he had put extra care into his hair and tied it in a low ponytail using a black ribbon. As for you, you had long since changed out of your old blouse and shorts. In fact, the temple gave you a makeover and threw out your old clothes the moment you stepped foot inside the building, saying your current attire was "unsuited for their beloved Messiah". It had been a few days since your "fall from heaven" as the devotees liked to call it but you still clearly remember the absolute bewilderment you felt when the nuns handed you your new clothes. Holding a golden dress with black beads as embellishments around the collar, skirt and hem of the long sleeves, the nuns grinned brightly at you, expectantly waiting for you to try it on. It looked more expensive than your total salary as the guards' errand girl(which wasn't a lot but you still could never imagined spending all that money on one piece of clothing). You declined at first, unable to accept such a gift but the dejected expressions and teary eyes that immediately came onto the faces of the nuns made you reconsider. Reluctantly, you took the dress from their hands. You stepped inside an empty room nearby and changed into the dress. Oddly enough, the dress fitted perfectly. Not too big, not too small. It was a wonder how they matched your measurements so well.

You slowly creaked opened the door, feeling bashful and self-conscious for wearing something so....Different from your usual attire. Your body felt foreign to you as you struggled to walk normally, thinking you should change the way you carry yourself in order to better match the sophisticated aura the dress brings. Feelings of doubt crept into your mind as you began to regret being so gullible to the nuns.

But what's done has been done. The door opened and dozens of eyes snapped towards you as you reappeared from within the room. The staring made you feel even more awkward.

"Does it look weird?" You asked, hoping to divert their attention and save yourself from the uncomfortable silence. Zephyr was the first to move. He immediately came forward and grasped your hands in his. His smile was wide as he answered. "You look wonderful, Messiah." He seemed a bit breathless.

Thud!

You heard something heavy hit the ground and some frantic voices come from behind Zephyr. You peered over his shoulder and saw that a few devotees had fainted.

"Messiah? Are you alright?" Zephyr's voice rang in your ear, cutting your flashback short. As you came back to reality, you saw Zephyr's reflection in the mirror staring back at you, a concerned frown clear on his face.

"Yes. Sorry, I was, um...." You tried to come up with an excuse as you turned your gaze back at him. Your eyes flickered towards his ponytail and a lightbulb lit up in your mind. "I was admiring your new hairstyle."

A bashful smile spread across Zephyr's face the moment you finished your sentence. "Do you like it? I'll tie it up more often if you like." He blushed slightly. Before you could reply, a knock came from the door.

You saw Zephyr's smile drop before he turned away and excused himself to go answer the door. Now with the saint out of your personal space, you could finally breathe again. Even if Zephyr wasn't cruel or strict in any way, his position as saint was still quite daunting. You felt like you needed to be on your best behaviour whenever he's around.

Sighing in relief, you took a seat on the edge of your bed, the soft mattress sinking lightly with the addition of your weight. You stretched and heard your joints pop softly before you reached for the cup of water placed on the bedside table. Bringing the beautifully decorated porcelain cup to your lips, you took a sip.

You held the almost empty cup in the palm of your hands as you stared down at your reflection in the water after you had your fill. Your face came into view and you were once again reminded of how familiar and yet foreign your face was now.

In the water, a pair of golden eyes looked back at you. This was the mark of Calerus. This was what the temple used to determine you were their Messiah. Calerus had given you the same golden eyes he had when he declared you his lamb that day. You are the one and only human in Ebreauan history to ever possess golden eyes. You're the first person to ever resemble their God. Such was the infatuation the devotees held towards your gaze, fawning whenever you even looked in their direction. So far, Zephyr is the only one who could somewhat keep his composure around you.

You stayed seated on your bed, waiting for Zephyr to finished attending to the person who came knocking. It was taking longer than anticipated.

"...me help the Messiah put them on, Saint Zephyr." Your ears perked up at the mention of your name(or your title to be exact) from the doorway. You glanced over at Zephyr and saw he was conversing with a young monk. You leaned back a on your bed, trying to get a better look at him from your position.

The monk seemed to notice movement within his vision and moved his gaze from Zephyr to the inside of your room. You both make eye contact and you finally notice the brown box he was holding in his hand.

A package?

The young monk's voice suddenly echoed through your room, drawing your attention from the box back to him. "M-miss Messiah. H-hello!", he waved enthusiastically at you, a toothy grin plastered on his flushed face. "Please allow me the honor of-" "Thank you, Brother Esten. I'll take it from here." Zephyr suddenly cut him off, snatching the box from the young monk's hand before slamming the door in his face. You jumped, startled as the door closed with a loud bang.

Zephyr walked over to you, holding the box the young monk had delivered, his usual kind smile back on his face. "Sorry that took so long, Messiah. Brother Esten can be a bit stubborn but he is a good soul." He smiled and handed you the box. You took it from his hands as you nodded. "Did he want something?" You asked, shaking the box gently as you tried to guess what was inside based on its weight.

Zephyr shook his head before reaching for the lid of the box. He lifted the lid and revealed the contents inside. A pair of black ballet flats. You raised an eyebrow in confusion.

You didn't order any shoes.

Zephyr simply chuckled at your expression before taking the flats out of the box. "These are a gift from the temple, Miss Messiah. We thought they would go well with your dress." He said as he went down on one knee in front of you. Placing the flats on the floor beside him, he gestured towards your feet.

"May I?"

You hiked up your dress, revealing the old brown boots you've worn even before becoming the guards' errand girl. They've been with you through thick and thin, through stormy and sunny weather so it pained you a bit having to say goodbye to them. Zephyr slowly undid your shoelaces and slipped the boots off your feet. “Brother Esten had asked to help you put on your new shoes but I informed him that I could do it. He was persistent though, insisting that he should be the one to do it.” He began to recall, taking one of the black flats and slipping it onto your foot.

“In his words and I quote, “A lowly task like this shouldn’t be handled by the saint. Let this humble servant of god do it instead.” I, of course, refused.” Zephyr relayed what transpired at the door just now as he slipped on the other shoe and checked if they fitted you.

You nodded, unfazed by his confession. Zephyr had been constantly at your beck and call ever since you became Messiah, lending his aid even when unnecessary. He goes out of his way to serve you and make your new life as comfortable as possible. In addition, you've also noticed that he had taken over the other nuns and monks' jobs of serving you, such as delivering meals, giving you fresh clothes and other menial tasks after a few days of observation. Sometimes it truly feels like he's your servant rather than your colleague.

You take a look at your new flats too, admiring its design. They fitted perfectly just like every other clothing the temple has given to you. "They're very comfortable. Thank you." You thanked Zephyr for helping you put on the shoes despite not needing the assistance. He smiled tenderly at you before reaching out to hold your right foot in his hand. "You're welcome, my Messiah." He pressed a kiss on your foot.

!

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action. You blushed and adverted your eyes to the side, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. No matter how much time you spend with him, you don't think you could ever get used to his odd affection towards you.

"Miss Messiah..."

You heard Zephyr's voice call for you before feeling some weight on you lap. You looked down and saw he had placed his hands on your lap before resting his chin there. He gazed up at you, a look of concern plastered on his face. "You seem distracted today." He frowned. "I noticed you staring at your cup in a daze just now when I was talking to Brother Esten." Zephyr said as he moved one of his hand from your lap and reached for your hand. He gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb as he continued, "Is something bothering you?".

"Oh..." You let out, not expecting him to point out your habit of daydreaming. They've become more frequent after you came to the temple as Messiah. You just had a lot to think about. Your duties, your future, your new role and now the future of Ebreau as well as the well-being of its citizens. The role of Messiah required you to stand with the people and lead them towards a better life. The sudden drop of weight on your shoulders of being Messiah was a heavy one indeed.

"I'm fine. Just a lot to think about especially with how Ebreau is right now." You confessed and sighed, sharing your concerns about the country's current state. Zephyr reached up and cupped your face, making you look at him. "You have a heart of gold, my dear Messiah. I understand that with the way things are presently, you have much to worry about but please remember to not overwork yourself. Too much stress will do no one any good." He stated firmly, his eyes clear and free of doubt, wholeheartedly believing in what he said just now.

You were shaken by his conviction as you fell silent, processing his words. You nodded after a while. "You're right. I'll try my best to manage my anxiety. Thank you, Saint Zephyr." You thanked him, grateful he helped you snap out of it.

Zephyr smiled before leaning in to kiss your cheek. "You're welcome, Messiah. Also, please just call me Zephyr." He pulled back as he looked into your eyes, his gaze soft and warm. "Thank you, Zephyr. You may call me (y/n) too." You smiled back.

For a brief moment, you saw the corner of Zephyr's lips twitched. He suddenly looked down at your lap, avoiding your eyes before taking a deep breath. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his behavior.

Did you say something wrong?

"One would suggest thee to not push the saint's self control too much."

A familiar voice rang inside your head. It was Calerus. You perked up at his sudden presence. "Oh, hello." You thought in your mind. The God of prosperity had a tendency to randomly pop up and speak to you directly through your mind ever since you became his lamb. Sometimes it was advice on what to do as Messiah and sometimes it was just to give one-off comments about the situation at hand. It was the latter this time.

Zephyr suddenly sprang onto his feet, pulling you off the bed by your hands as he did so. Not expecting the sudden pull, you stumbled and fell into his chest. You heard him chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly against him. You looked up from his chest and stared at him, perplexed. Zephyr simply laughed, "Let's take a walk in the garden, Lady (y/n)."

~✟~

The temple's garden was big and well kept. The flowers here bloomed splendidly, attracting little bees and butterflies to come play on their petals. The soft breeze of the afternoon blew gently, weaving through the yellow leaves of the aurum trees lining the walkway through the garden and shaking them lightly. The soft rustling of leaves paired with the running of water from the nearby fountain was a pleasant change in atmosphere that you desperately needed at the moment.

Zephyr walked beside you quietly as he let you bask in the warm afternoon sun and relax yourself. You sauntered through the garden, going off the pathway and inched closer to the various flower beds. You admired the flowers and couldn't help but smile at the sight of them.

It was a welcomed change of pace. You never found yourself to be a flower lover but here you were. Perhaps it was just a lack of exposure to them in the past.

"This is nice." You mumbled, crouching down and observing a butterfly on a purple flower. "What's this flower called?" You pointed at the flower as you turned your gaze up at Zephyr.

Zephyr smiled and joined you, crouching down beside you. "These are meripurlets."He started as he tucked a loose hair of yours behind your ear. "Their flower language is devotion." He smiled.

You raised your eyebrows at his words. "You know flower language?" You tilted your head. Zephyr chuckled, "Just the few that are commonly used around the temple."

You nodded with a brief "I see." and went back to the flowers before you. Their colours were vibrant and its leaves were evergreen, signifying that they are well taken care of. The shade of purple was nearly identical to that of Zephyr' eyes. You stared as you wondered who's in charge of taking care of the garden, awed by their dedication to these flora.

...

"...siah!"

?

A voice too soft and distant suddenly caught your attention. You couldn't make it what the voice said but it sounded frantic. You looked around the garden as you searched for the source of the voice, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Beside you, Zephyr did the same except instaed of being confused, he seemed more cautious and alert.

"Messiah!"

The voice got louder and closer as you heard it call for you. You turned and looked towards the entrance of the garden. A man waved at you as he ran over, tripping on his feet as he did so. Behind him, you see two guards tailing him closely, screaming at him to stop.

"Sir, stop this at once!"

"This is an act of trespassing and will have you arrested!"

The man ignored their demands as he continued to sprint towards you. As he inched closer, you noticed he looked familiar.

Mr. Citris?

Before you could confirm your suspicion, someone blocked your view, shielding you behind them. It was Zephyr. He kept you behind him, his hand holding onto yours in a tight grip as he watched the man approach.

You heard a thud come from in front of him. You tried to peer over his shoulders to see what was going on but unfortunately, he was too tall even when you went onto your toes.

A familiar voice rang and you confirmed who the man was.

"Saint Zephyr! Please let me see the Messiah!"

Mr. Citris pleaded but Zephyr didn't budge.

"My brother, while the temple is open to all followers of his Lord, Calerus, the garden, however can only be accessed by the devotees of this temple." His voice was deadly cold, unbefitting of his usual warm manner.

"I know, my saint, I know! But please! I'm at my wit's end. Please just let me talk to the Messiah!" Mr. Cirtris begged. He really did sound panicked. What got him so worked up? In your mind, nothing could ever shake Mr. Citris.

Mr. Citris is a farmer who sold fresh produce at the central market. You remembered passing by his stall when you were shopping there a few times. He scared you at first. His tough appearance paired with the ever present scowl on his face, it wasn't just you who felt reluctant to approach him. It was only until after you heard more about him from the guards that you changed your opinion on him.

Mr. Citris lives near the northeast outskirts of Ebreau. There, he has a plot of land where he use to plant his vegetables and fruits. His wife passed from complications of childbirth many years ago so it's just him and his daughter at his home.

However, life seemed to be particularly unfair to him as his one and only daughter suffers from a degenerative muscle disease that causes her to have difficulty moving. She still tries her best to help out her dad in his field but she can only work for so long before the pain kicks in. She's been prescribed some medicine to help slow down the degeneration and ease the pain but from what you heard, the medicine is quite expensive and is an extra burden on them when they can only make enough money to put food on the table each day. However, Mr. Citris somehow made it work by selling his products at the market and doing odd job around the city. Tiring as it is, he was able to make enough to afford the medicine and food for his daughter.

From then on, you invested in his small business when you could and even spread the word of his predicament around so people would consider buying from him more. You're not sure if it helped but at least you've seen an increase in customers at his stall ever since then.

In short, Mr. Citris was a big guy with an even bigger heart. Family was everything to him and you admired the lengths he went to for his daughter.

"My brother, the garden is a private resting place for the devotees and workers of the temple. You're intruding on the Messiah's personal time." From your angle, you could see the frown on Zephyr's face as he looked at the man.

Mr. Citris sounded like he was on the verge of crying as he called for you, hoping you would listen to him from behind Zephyr's back. "Messiah, please give me some of your time! It's about my sick daugther!" That immediately caught your attention. Zephyr continued to shield you behind him.

"Brother, you need to leave."

This time, Mr. Citris was silent and you felt a chill run down your spine at Zephyr's demand.

Zephyr stared him down and once he made sure Mr. Citris had nothing more to say, he ordered. "Guards, please escort this man out." Footsteps sounded as the guards approached Mr. Citris.

"On your feet, sir." One of the guards demanded when Mr. Citris remained unmoving on the ground. "I..." Mr. Citris breathed shakily. The guard who had previously ordered Mr. Citrus to move leaned down and grabbed onto his arm, ready to pull him up. Just as his hand touched Mr. Citris, another appeared, its touch soft but firm in stopping any further action.

You stepped forward, coming out from behind Zephyr's back. Pressing your hand onto the guard's, you stopped him from taking Mr. Citris away.

"Lady (y/n)?" "Messiah?" Zephyr and the guards let out in astonishment.

You kneeled down onto the ground as the guard withdrew his hand from Mr. Citris. Mr. Citris kept his head down, his eyes fixated on the ground. Now on the same eye level as him, you could see the redness at the corner of his eyes.

He was holding back tears.

"..."

Something big must have happened for Mr. Citris to be this desperate.

"Mr. Citris, what happened to your daughter?" You finally asked. Mr. Citris' head suddenly snapped up and stared into your eyes, his own wide in shock, seemingly only noticing your presence after you called for him.

"My Lord..?" Mr. Citris whispered in disbelief, his body trembling. "Sorry?" You asked back, caught of guard by his question.

"C-calerus." A invisible question mark appeared above your head.

"I'm (y/n), Mr. Citris. The Messiah. You asked to see me, no?" You attempted to correct.

"Mes...Messiah?" He repeated as if he was unsure of your dentity even after you told him

"Yes." You nodded and smiled at him, wanting him to believe you. Mr. Citris' mouth stayed shut as he blinked, staring at you as he seemed to ponder something profound.

You lightly coughed and asked again, ignoring his stare. "So, tell me, Mr. Citris, what happened to your daughter?" You wanted to get to the bottom of Mr. Citris sudden visit.

At your question, he snapped out of it, shaking his head as he took a breath. "Y-yes, Messiah....Of course..." He mumbled under his breath before meeting your gaze once more.

"I...It's..." Mr. Citris stuttered, his voice shaking and you saw tears well up again in his eyes. "Take a breath. Slowly now." You patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Mr. Citris breathed in deeply and calmed himself. "My daughter....She has a degenerative muscle disease ever since birth but she has been prescribed some medicine to help with the sickness. They are expensive but I am able to pull together enough money each month to buy them by selling vegetables I've planted on my land at the outskirts of the kingdom." He began to tell and you nodded. Nothing you didn't know of.

He suddenly paused, swallowing as he seemed contemplate something. You raised an eyebrow and ushered for him to continue.

"No need to be hesitant, Mr. Citris. Let me hear it."

Mr. Citris nodded and continued. What you heard next stunned you.

"Recently, my house got attacked. By...by the Casvians." Your eyes went wide at his words. Behind you, you felt Zephyr stiffen.

"Casvians?" You repeated, not believing your ears.

Mr. Citris nodded. "They attacked my house, burned my land and my crops with it. I managed to save my daughter and myself before they got to us." He said mournfully. You listened attentively, nodding each time he looked at you for conformation to carry on.

"We've been living at an inn in the capital for the past 2 weeks but with my land gone, I've lost my main source of income from selling vegetables and fruits on the market. I...I can barely afford food for us both now, let alone...." He trailed off but even with no words spoken, you knew what he was going to say.

He can't buy medicine for his daughter.

You bit the inside of your cheeks. This was a tight spot for Mr. Citris. Food, medicine and now accommodation? Even if he did still have his land, you doubt that'd be enough to afford all three of them.

He said Casvians attacked him but how? You knew Mr. Citris' house was near the boarders between Ebreau and its neighbouring country, Casviren but it couldn't be that close to where he would get caught in the crossfire.

Then, assuming he isn't lying, for the Casvians to attack Mr. Citris' house would only mean either the Casvians are getting bolder or...

Ebreau's defenses are falling.

You clenched your fists as your expression hardened.

The situation may be more dire than you thought.

This kingdom is falling apart. Fast.

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself. The state of the kingdom needed to wait for now. First, you need to help Mr. Citris.

You turned back and looked up at Zephyr. "Does the temple have spare money to buy the medicine for his daughter?" You asked, standing back up and facing him. Zephyr was silent as he stared at you, his face unreadable. You felt uneasy at his silence. You glanced downward briefly and saw his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Was he angry?

The thought crossed your mind for a second but you quickly brushed it off. Why would he be? You're helping someone. There was nothing wrong in that.

Right?

Zephyr noticed that you have spotted his curled up fists and quickly release them. He cleared his throat before answering. "While the temple does not lack in terms of money, the Royal family specified that the funds given to us should be spent on strictly temple related matters and nothing more." Zephyr said, his lips turning down into a small frown and his eyes softening in concern.

"Them, is there anyone in the temple with medical training that can help Mr. Citris' daughter?" You refused to give up, searching for another way to help the man.

To your dismay, Zephyr shook his head, a look of sorrow on his soft features. "There are some nuns and monks that have basic medical knowledge but I am not aware of any that are experienced enough to able to take care of someone with this sort of disease."

You bit your lip, your eyebrows knitted together in worry. This was bad. How were you going to solve this...

Just as you were going to begin panicking, Zephyr gave you something that lessened your anxiety. "However, if Mr. Citris likes, he may collect meals from the temple." You tilted your head at his suggestion. Zephyr smiled at you and elaborated. "The temple prepares food for all devotees everyday and most of the time, there will be leftovers. If Mr. Citris doesn't mind, him and his daugther may have the leftovers." Zephyr looked at Mr. Citris behind you. "I know it's not what you wanted but hopefully, it will at least decrease your financial burden." Zephyr added, bowing his head apologetically at Mr. Citris.

You turned and looked back at Mr. Citris. He was staring at you and Zephyr, unmoving and silent.

"I...Thank you, saint. I am grateful. Any help is appreciated." Mr. Citris lowered his head. He sounded... Disappointed.

Everyone fell silent. The light breeze that tickled your face had stopped blowing and the sun that shone brightly had dipped behind the horizon, leaving behind only streaks of its rays as the afternoon turned into evening and soon night. You sighed silently and hung your head like Mr. Citris. You felt so ashamed at your incompetence. As Messiah, the people expected you to lead, to guide, to help but today's encounter showed you that you were still far from fulfilling any of those requirements.

You were Messiah in name.

Power and will?

You can only pray Calerus will give them to you in the future.

Mr. Citris sniffled and the boulder weighing on your heart became heavier. You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You're trying your best, Lady (y/n). Don't blame yourself." Zephyr whispered into your ear. At that, you loosened your fists which you didn't know you were gripping.

Yes, calm down, (y/n). Nothing can be accomplished by moping around.

You inhaled deeply before kneeling back down. Mr. Citris kept his head low, unwilling to meet your gaze. On the ground beneath him, you saw small splotches.

He was crying.

And he didn't want you to see his tears.

Your heart ached at his predicament but what else could you do?

Carefully, you reached for his hands. You clasped them in yours as you pulled them close to you and shut your eyes.

There was nothing left to do but pray.

You mumbled your prayer, loud enough only for you and Mr. Citris to hear.

"Calerus, our lord high above."

Your grip on Mr. Citris' hands tightened.

"A problem arises that cannot be solved by our mortal hands."

I'm sorry, Mr. Citris.

"Please grace us with your mercy and benevolence in this time of need."

I wish I could do more for you.

"Spare the daughter of this follower of yours. Let her pain be subsided. Let her agony be gone."

But, alas, I am a fraud.

"Give the daughter the strength to overcome that which plagues her body. Give the father the strength to overcome that which plagues his mind."

I am only a pawn in Calerus' hands.

"Let your power be seen through this pair of parent and child."

I am at Calerus' mercy.

"Earnestly, we pray."

Clink!

Your eyes snapped opened at the sudden sound.

Clink! Clink!

?

You looked around, confused at what's making that noise. It sounds like....Coins dropping?

Clink! Clink! Clink!

You gazed down. On the ground between you and Mr. Citris, a few gold coins laid there, some still spinning in place.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink!

More appeared, seemingly falling from thin air. They fell rapidly, like they were overflowing from their source. You were perplexed at where they were coming from until you looked at your hands.

Gold coins seeped out from within your sleeves and onto the ground. They flowed like water, their speed and frequency of appearance increasing rampantly.

"What in the..." You gasped as you looked in disbelief. Gold coins were basically pouring out of your sleeves right now.

"Messiah...!" Mr. Critris gasped as he finally lifted his head and saw the scene before him. "I, um," you struggled to find words to say in this situation.

Mr. Citris suddenly bowed down to you, his forehead pressing on the ground. " Thank you, Messiah! Thank you! Thank you! This will be more than enough!" He thanked you before raising his head, a wide smile plastered on his tears stained face. He wiped away his tears, drying his eyes as he continued to thank you. "Messiah! Truly, my Messiah!" He cried, tears of joy (you assume them to be at least) continued to roll down his cheeks despite just wiping them.

The pour of coins slowly calmed down into a drizzle before finally stopping. In front of you, a small pile of gold coins sat on the ground, reflecting the last bits of sunlight and shimmering softly.

You stared in shock at what just happened with a still emotional Mr. Citris kneeling before you, muttering incoherent thank-you's while scooping up the gold coins. Your brain was melting from having to process the weird occurrence. Was that Calerus' answer to your prayers? Or was that your power all along and it was just a matter of you not knowing? Your head was spinning.

A hand suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you onto your feet. You looked back and Zephyr glared at Mr. Citris over your shoulder, a frown tugging on his lips. He pulled you back behind him, pressing you to him so you couldn't do something he didn't expect again.

"Mr. Citris, it seems our gracious Lord has answered your prayers." His tone was cold despite the miraculous event that called for a joyous celebration. "Now that your problems have been solved, I think it's time for you to go back to your daughter, yes?" He questioned, his voice holding a certain persuasiveness and firmness in it, like he wasn't asking but ordering.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you, my Messiah...My saviour...m-my God!" Mr. Citris smiled, looking up at you. His smile grew into a grin as he began to mumble to himself. You grew concerned at his mumbling.

Mr. Citris isn't usually like this...

Before you could ask if he was alright,. Zephyr tugged at your arm and pulled you away from the scene. "Help Mr. Citris collect his money and escort him out of the temple." He ordered the two guards before quickening his place and pulling you away with him.

You were still in a daze, astonished by what just transpired. You barely even noticed Zephyr had dragged you towards one of the entrance to the temple that connected with the garden. Only when you both stepped back inside the temple did he let go.

You finally snapped back to reality as the familiar white marble walls and well lit halls came into your view. You raised your hands and stared at them. They seemed fine. Nothing looked different from before....Then, what on earth happened back there?

Another pair of hands came into your peripheral before intertwining your hands in theirs. You looked up and saw Zephyr staring at your hands in his.

"Zephyr?" You raised an eyebrow. He's been acting weird since Mr. Citris came.

You felt him tighten his hold as he breathed shakily. "Lady (y/n)..." He whispered, eyes still glued to your hands.

"Are you alright?" You made no move to pull away from his grasp.

Zephyr was quiet.

"..."

"Zephyr? You're worrying me." You voiced your concerns. Zephyr was really out of it today.

At your words, he raised his head and met your eyes. His signature smile still absent from his face.

"Did you know, Lady (y/n)?" He began.

"Know what?" Zephyr was beginning to confuse you. You thought you had a decent understanding of him now after living together for the past few weeks but...

Maybe there was still more to him than what meets the eye.

"Meripurlets and aurum trees have a symbiotic relationship." He rubbed your hands.

"Meripurlets have short roots which causes them to have a hard time finding water especially during dry seasons. To battle this, they grow near aurum trees which have long roots and can easily absorb water deep within the soil. A meripurlet will penetrate its roots into an aurum tree's to take its water. As such, meripurlets are categorized as a parasitic plant." Zephyr glanced outside towards an aurum tree.

"However, if you look in books, they will say that the relationship between meripurlets and aurum trees is mutualism. Fascinating, no?" A small smile finally crawled onto his face. You couldn't help but feel relieved when you saw it. At least he looked like he was back to normal. Wish the same would apply to his voice though.

"That is because meripurlets only take a small amount of water from aurum trees. Just enough to sustain itself. In return, they give nitrogen they absorbed from the soil to aurum trees to let them grow taller and stronger. Research also found that each meripurlet plant only ever get water from one aurum tree. It doesn't matter if another one is planted beside it, once it chooses one, it will depend on that aurum tree for the rest of its life. A very...devoted flower, don't you agree?" This was interesting and all but you couldn't wrap your head around why Zephyr was telling you all this. He continued on with his rambling.

"Despite all the good they do for each other, did you notice that the meripurlets and aurum trees in the garden are not planted together, Lady (y/n)?" This time, Zephyr tilted his head.

You recalled back to your walk. Indeed, the flowers and trees were separated from each other. You nodded, unsure where this was going to lead.

Zephyr smiled wider. "Well, another fascinating thing about meripurlets is they don't like to share."

"What?" You blurted out.

"When another parasitic plant comes and lives off the aurum tree they had chosen, the meripurlets will suck all the water from the aurum tree and will stop giving the tree its nitrogen supply. Slowly, the aurum tree will wilt and die just like any other host plants in parasitic relationships." Zephyr explained as he stepped closer, brushing his lips against the back of your fingers.

"As for the meripurlet, the excessive water will cause it to rot from within until it eventually dies." His gaze darkened and you unconsciously swallowed nervously.

"The meripurlet would rather kill the aurum tree it tethered itself to than share it with another plant. It would rather die than choose another aurum tree to depend on." Zephyr looked back down, his bangs tickling your hands.

"To this, botanists like to say..."

He leaned in and whispered into your ear.

"Devotion can kill."

~✟~

Done! Another chapter in the bag. Thank you all for the immense support you've shown for the prologue. I didn't expect it to blow up like that especially since it's the first thing I've ever posted here. Thank you again for the support and for waiting for the next chapter!(I'm a slow writer so please bear with me!(´-﹏-`；))

Same thing applies, if you find any problems, please tell me so I can make corrections in order to give everyone the best reading experience!

~

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan (you wrote master list but I'm gonna assume you meant tag list. Sorry if I'm wrong(T_T)) @avyannasstuff

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere stories #transmigration #fantasy #isekai #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere original character #yandere obsession #female reader #yancore #yandere fic #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere saint

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 9

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ mdni no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nightmares, comfort, relationship issues and dynamics, established throuple. Emotional distress. Mention of medication. Angst. Darling is her/your own warning/tag. Eating related issues. Flashback heavy. Simon and Darling heavy. Simon struggles with the aftermath of his words.

Simon is having trouble keeping his eyes on the road.

He keeps looking in the rear-view mirror, holding his breath, hoping you’ll say something, answer one of Johnny’s questions, or look back at him for a second, even though the seconds tick away, and none of that happens. You keep your face pointed away from them, streetlights and headlights reflecting across your face, illuminating your grief filled gaze that’s transfixed on the world outside the window.

You’re far out of his reach now. Farther then when they came home and discovered you had left, farther then when he saw you in the doorway of your hotel room, exhausted, confused, free falling.

He had a good grip in those moments. Had a firm hand on the situation, could still read you, anticipate you, understand what was needed.

Now, he can feel that grip, that control, slipping away.

He clears his throat.

“Darling? Are you hungry, do you want to stop for something?” You don’t answer, still facing out the window, mind somewhere else, and Johnny shifts uneasily in the passenger seat, the spot you refused even though it’s your preference.

His phone vibrates in the center console, pulling his focus to where the screen is lit with a text from Price.

Let me know what you’re going to do. You’ve got more than enough leave saved. 

His stomach twists.

Simon jolts, trying to piece together where he is, where Johnny is, what’s happening, muscles instinctively tensing, legs and arms shifting his body into a weapon, something that can be used to defend, to fight-

He’s in his own bed. He’s in his own bed, at home, with Johnny...

and you. 

You’re shaking in your sleep, practically rattling between their bodies, face scrunched up in terror, panicked whimpers breaking from your throat. He recognizes it immediately, similar symptoms of the same affliction that sometimes plagues both himself and Johnny. 

You’re having a nightmare. 

His eyes adjust, taking in the dark of the room, the leak of light from the hall just barely illuminating the curve of your hip, Johnny’s chest and messy mohawk. 

Johnny had wanted you to stay the night so badly. Simon did too, but he didn’t want to push you as hard as Johnny was willing to, more agreeable to let you lead, let you decide what you did or did not want to do. 

But Johnny was so sweet on you, with you, convincing you to stay over even though in the past, you had been adamantly against it. 

Is this why? 

He scrounges in the dark for his mask, the black cotton one that he’s been wearing around you, sliding it over his face, loops behind his ears, before he hesitantly reaches towards your shivering form. 

“Darling.” He murmurs, bringing himself closer, boxing you in with his chest. If you have a bad reaction when you wake, he needs to be able to grab you, hold onto you. Keep you from hurting Johnny. “Shhh, hey, you’re alright.” He rubs your upper arm, firm pressure enough to keep you mostly still, leaning closer to say your name a few times, gently trying to rouse you without making it worse. He knows how it feels to come abruptly out of a nightmare, how it feels to wake up confused, frightened, unsure if you’re still dreaming, or still trapped in your own mind’s torment. 

He shakes you carefully, holding your shoulders firm, listening to your gasps turn into stronger breaths, your eyes flickering behind closed lids until they’re slowly peeling open, half clouded with sleep.   

“Ngh-“ you groan, blinking up at him, disorientated. You instantly tense, flinching away, and he keeps himself still, letting you come to consciousness slowly. 

“Shhh. You’re safe. It’s alright.” Your brow furrows, like you’re trying to piece together what’s happening, and he keeps his voice low, soothing. “You’re with us, at our flat. You stayed the night, remember?” He’s still rubbing your arm, working the contact, the connection, into your skin, trying to jog your hazy memories, keep you present. 

Realization snaps across your face, fear melting away into something else, something he knows well. 

Shame, and panic. 

“Oh my god.” You whisper, turning to look at Johnny. 

“Don’t worry, he’s a heavy sleeper, he-“ 

“I’m so sorry.” You blurt, sitting up, slipping yourself out from under his arm. “Did I- did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re no strangers to nightmares either.” He tries to calm you, ease you with the lighthearted comment. You shake your head, pausing, and then manage to slide down the bed, swinging your legs over the side to sit up. 

“I shouldn’t have… I- I shouldn’t be here.” You take short breaths, and he reaches for you, hand hovering over your shoulder. Johnny taught him that touch can be comfort after a nightmare, a lesson learned over too many nights spent waking in terror, choking on the feeling of dirt clogging his windpipe.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I-“ you trail off as you stand, stepping away from the bed, hands gripping each other, clenched together. 

“Darling, hey.” He follows, stepping closer into your space, your eyes wild and darting all over the room. Johnny mumbles behind him, and you wince, your mind working in overdrive, guilt and worry and fear trying to take over, drown you, work you up until it convinces you to run out the door. 

Something tugs at Simon. Something strong, heavy with emotion, with feeling, pulls at him, dragging him towards an inevitability, one that he’s been able to see coming since the first night they took you home, and he’s not going to let whatever is going on in your head right now take you away from them. Not when they've just found you. Not when he knows there could be so much more. 

“Look at me.” He drops his tone, sinking into the authoritative edge, the one you’ve responded so well to during sex. He’s pushing boundaries, pushing into unexplored territory, but he needs to control this situation before it destabilizes you, and he knows, instinctively, that he can reach you. If he tries. “Everything’s alright now, you’re okay.” He pulls your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your knuckles, your head tipped back to stare at him, vulnerable as he’s ever seen. “There’s nothing to apologize for, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“What’s goin’ on-“ Johnny grunts, twisting in the bed to find where Simon is standing with you in the dark. He immediately goes on alert, back straightening, scanning the room for what’s happened, if there’s danger, if there’s a problem.

“It’s okay, she just had a nightmare.” Simon doesn’t take his eyes off you, your hands squeezing his like you’re afraid he might disappear. “She’s a bit rattled, is all.” There’s movement, Johnny getting up, stretching, before lumbering over to where you’re frozen to the floor. Simon releases one of your hands, motioning for his partner to stop. The gesture speaks volumes. 

I’ve got it. 

“Johnny, I think, some tea-“ 

“Rog.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s shoulder before heading for the kitchen, and you force a deep breath, still holding on tight, fingers gripped to his like iron. 

“Let’s lay down while we wait, yeah?” Simon instructs, turning your body back towards the bed, keeping his hands on you as he directs you between the sheets. The stiffness in your limbs starts to dissipate as he rubs your back, your neck, arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to his body. You fit there, right in the crook of his torso, his shoulder, and he presses you closer, mask covered mouth above your ear. “You’re safe with us. I’ve got you.”  

“What do ye mean, it’s not the right thing?” Johnny hisses, voice low. He casts a glance at the sunroom door, lips pressed together, jaw tight with disbelief.

“I was telling Price that the relationship is difficult, at times, that it can be hard on all of us, that it doesn’t feel fair, to her. It was a casual conversation, he was talkin' about his wife too. I said…” He trails off, frowning. “I said, I worry about it being the right thing.” Johnny shakes his head, incredulous.

“Well, that’s… that’s just bloody-“

“I was talking to Price as a friend. I didn’t know she was outside.”

“Ye shouldnae’ve been sayin’ anything to Price! Ye get on her for communicating poorly, but then ye go and do somethin’ like this.”

“I know.” Johnny’s still shaking his head, but there’s a note of fear to his voice now, panic, and Simon knows they’re thinking the same thing.

They could lose you. You could run. They just got you back. Just got you settled down. 

The consequences of his mistake loom on the horizon.

You’re going to shut down. 

“Ye need to fix this. Now.”

“Hey.” You whisper, peeking out from the blanket and Johnny’s arm, soft and hazy in the early sun’s light. He bends forward instantly, brushing his lips against your forehead, palm cradling your cheek, thumb stroking across your skin gently. Johnny’s snoring, oblivious, and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, leaning over to kiss his cheek too, running a few fingers through some unruly strands of mohawk. “How was the gym?” 

“Fine. How’d you two end up out here?” He motions to the couch, slipping off his trainers. 

“Couldn’t sleep after you left. Johnny said we should watch a movie, but he nodded off pretty quick.” The Black Cauldron is playing across the screen, one of your favorites, and you shrug your shoulders “He said I could pick.” 

“I said we were goin’ to sleep.” Johnny grunts awake, burying his face into your neck, blinking up over the mound of blankets and your hair at Simon. “C’mere.” 

“Gotta shower.” 

“No come on.” You whine. “Please?” You look so hopeful, and Johnny looks so sweet, he can't say no. He’s weak for it, for both of you, settling himself between Johnny and the couch, shifting your weight so that you’re laying across the two of them, still curled up in the blankets. Johnny’s face is blissfully slack, still half asleep, and he wonders if he can get you back to sleep too. 

“Feel like closin’ your eyes?” He whispers, and you shrug. “We went to bed pretty late last night darling, and you hardly slept the night before.” You make a face, and then try to burrow deeper into the blankets, hiding your eyes from his. 

“’m not really tired.” 

“Did you take your meds this morning?” Johnny cracks an eye open, watching where you squirm under the scrutiny. 

“No…” you pout. Simon looks to Johnny, who gives him a swift nod of acknowledgment. Neither of them have to speak. 

“Alright.” The blankets move, Johnny arranging you so you’re completely in Simon’s arms. “I’ll get them for ye, okay? How about some toast?” He’s the one leaning over now, looking down at you, hand gently cupping your face. You nod reluctantly, and he rewards you with a proud kiss, short and sweet, before turning away for the kitchen.

 “We don’t shut each other out.” Simon implores, listening to the sound of you moving around behind the locked door. “You know that. We need to talk about what you heard, I need-“

“I don’t want to talk.” You yell, and Johnny winces, Simon thunking his forehead against the wood, defeated, worry tying his stomach in another knot.

“Darling, please. Talk tae us. Let Si explain-“ The door swings wide with a jolt, surprising both of them, nearly sending Simon careening forward until he catches himself.

“I don’t want to talk.” You repeat, slowly. Your face is blank, concerningly so, hands already holding two paintbrushes. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. I’m fine, I just… I want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”

“You’re not fine. It’s okay to be upset, to be angry, you have every right to be. But I can’t let-“

“You can’t let what?” You’re eerily composed, nearly void of the storm that he was expecting, and it’s absence makes him worry even more.

“Let you shut down and ignore us when we need to talk.”

“Why don’t you two talk to each other instead? Since you have so many opinions about what the right thing is. And we all know, what Simon says goes so-“

“No, darling. Stop.” Your mouth snaps shut, outraged, but it fizzles out quickly, and your shoulders slump.

“I’m not doing this.” You rebuff him, swinging the door shut to the sunroom, the art room, and locking it. Johnny covers his face with his hands, and Simon bristles, the overwhelming guilt practically jeering at him, blaming him, reassuring him that this is all his fault.

“’m go get started on dinner.” Johnny grinds out, glum, shooting him a pleading glance before he turns away. Do something, it says. Please.

“She hasn’t answered.” Simon glances at the clock. 

“She has a life, Johnny, and a job. Do you expect her to drop everything, every time we text her in the middle of night? It’s not like she can plan for it.” 

“Ah know but… it’s been all day. She usually at least responds.” He can’t argue there. You do always text them back, even if it takes a little while. If they get home in the early hours of the morning, you’ll usually respond when you wake. 

That didn’t happen this time. 

“Maybe we should call.” Johnny hedges, restless, pacing, overanalyzing the last time they saw you, and the text message they sent earlier. Simon takes a breath, stepping forward to pull him into his arms. 

“I know you miss her.” He doesn’t say it out loud, but he misses you too, and you’re not even theirs yet. “I don’t want us to be too overbearing. We can’t… we’re trying to treat it like a relationship, but we haven’t even had the conversation yet.” He only just showed you his face, before this last op, and that was almost two weeks ago, at this point. 

“But we will. We are. We said we are.” Johnny protests, half panicked. 

“We are.” Simon agrees, soothing him. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to call, I just don’t want you to be disappointed, if she doesn’t answer.” He tries to temper the younger man’s expectation, hoping that they won’t be left heartbroken if there’s still silence on your end. He wants to see you as much as Johnny does, but he’s cautious about encroaching on your boundaries, upsetting your equilibrium. Too much, too fast, could do more harm than good. 

The phone starts to ring, on speaker, and Johnny chews on his bottom lip, hand rubbing through his mohawk anxiously as it goes to two, then three rings. Simon sighs on the fourth, about to tell Johnny not to stress, when the line clicks open. 

“Hello?” It’s you, but you sound… different. Your voice is scratchy, and thin, almost watery. 

“Hey, darling.” Johnny coos. “Just wanted to give ye a call, see what’s goin’ on?” 

“Hi, I- uh. Sorry, I meant to text you back I just… fell asleep.” Simon frowns, and a warning bell goes off in the back of his head. 

“Are you sick?” He asks, and you take a breath, blowing it out sharply. 

“No, um… well, maybe. I’m out sick from work today. I’ve just been really low energy, not feeling great.” 

“Do ye need us to come over? Have ye eaten?” 

“I’m not that hungry, I’ve just been in bed.” 

“Can we come by? Check in on you?” Simon keeps his voice light and controlled, but worry is crawling up his spine now, pieces clicking together in his mind, painting a picture that’s been all too glaringly obvious. 

“Um, if you want? I’m not really doing anything. I don’t really feel up for… you know. I won’t be much fun for you guys.” You try to joke, and Johnny grimaces. 

“We just want to see ye, darling. We dinnae care about that.” He assures you sweetly, and Simon is already shrugging on his hoodie, looking for his shoes, calling out to the phone from across the room. 

“We’re on our way.” 

“I can’t fix it if you won’t let me in.” He says through the door. He doesn’t know for sure if you’re listening, but he has a good feeling that every time he opens his mouth, you probably pause, head inclined to where he sits outside the room. He can see it, paintbrush in your fingers, mouth slightly ajar as you consider his words.

And then go right back to ignoring him.

Occasionally, over the last hour, he’s heard things here and there, soft murmurs to yourself, the opening of moving boxes, bunching of the tape that had been holding them together. You even came out for water, filling your pitcher in the kitchen in silence, ignoring Johnny’s honeyed and gentle attempts to get you to talk to him. You refused to acknowledge him until he was pressing your water bottle into your free hand, which you accepted with a sigh, shoulders slumped and face completely morose.

You didn’t even look at Simon on your way out, or in, opting to ignore his presence entirely.

His back is a little sore from sitting straight up against the door, and he stretches, bringing his arms over his head to work his neck out. He’s trying to resist the urge to pull the key down from the top of the frame and open the door, something he could easily do, if he had the gall. He’ll let this go on, for a while, until he can’t stand it anymore, until he starts to become too worried. Until the sick feeling in his stomach becomes too much, and he’s forcing you to talk to him. To give him a chance to at least explain.

“Dinner’s ready.” Johnny interrupts his thoughts, holding out his hand to pull him to his feet. “Darling, do you want something to eat? I made chicken soup.” He offers, but there’s no response, and Simon tries to knock for good measure.

“You have to eat.” He murmurs, hand flat against the wood grain. “You know that.”

“’m not hungry.” You’re just on the other side, so close that he can see the shadow of your feet, can practically the feel the vibration of your voice through the door.

“Please, open the door. I need-“ His knees suddenly feel weak, and he’s desperate to just lay eyes on you, to prove to himself that you’re alright, that you’re here, with them. He pleads softly, tidal wave of emotion rising through his body, Johnny’s warm hand on his back between his shoulder blades. “I need to see you.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader

[selfishdoll]

❛ a lesson...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

humans & vampires weren’t all that different huh? sukuna taking it upon himself to ghost you after the intense and quite addictive night he gave you. with a month of radio silence you decided to move on, you had no loyalty to him after all. except, the moment sukuna saw you in the lap of a vampire that wasn’t him.. he was beyond pissed off.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

sukuna ghosting (rockstar life fr) | jealous! sukuna | possessiveness | biting as a way of marking | rough sex | oral sex (f. receiving) | degradation (use of the word slut) | praise | ooc sukuna ofc i’m not gege | multiple orgasms | dumbification | sukuna having conflicted feelings | ‘fwb’ to lovers | blood drinking ofc | mean dom! sukuna | he mocks your moans | etc. if i forgot something please inform me.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

i guess vampire sukuna is plaguing my mind much more then i thought. this is a continuation of the “favorite groupie” fic. enjoy & as always, please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

Were you obsessed? Maybe delusional? How exactly could sex have such an impact on you? When left unintended your mind would drift, flashbacks of Sukuna absolutely ruining you plaguing your mind. How he effortlessly pulled orgasms out of your tiring body, the dirty words that bordered on mean, and yet giving you the sweetest kisses as if he wasn’t plowing you into the cushions. That night changed the trajectory of your life— as dramatic as it sounded.

You struggled letting him go, wanting nothing more than to lock your hand around his wrist and tug him back to you. But, that would be far too greedy. Besides the vampire promised to visit your city, visit you after the last few days of the tour. You had no reason to disbelieve him, waiting so patiently for his return.

However, one week turned into two, and then so on until an entire month passed with no sign of him. He had your number, your social media— yet any message you sent was never read.

Sukuna’s attempt to prove that him and any human man were different was disproved rather quickly given his ghosting. You were upset, embarrassed and frankly pissed off. You felt as if some special thing to you was snatched away without care or your say. Granted you aren’t obligated to sex, but still. You were allowed to be mad, right?

Mad enough that you decided to seek someone else out— another vampire. Sukuna wasn’t totally special, it just had to be his species, you tried to convince yourself while aggressively gliding the tube of gloss across your lips. You smacked them together, assuring the delicate colors look perfect upon your two-toned lips. For attire you wore something simple; a black pleated mini skirt, a white top, black fishnets, and nice boots.

You hummed along to the music surrounding the bedroom as you delicately pulled the gold plated necklace of your name around your neck. Assuring it was in perfect place, you took one last look at yourself in the vanity before nodding.

Perfection.

Your attention was directed elsewhere the moment a honk came from outside, your hands moving quickly to grab your phone and purse. You rushed out of your bedroom, down the stairs, and out your house— locking the door on the way out. You grinned at your best friend rolling down her window, cat calling you like some pervert.

“Stop..” You hissed softly, opening the passenger seat door and entering the vehicle. Closing the door, you reached for your seatbelt. The other woman pulled the car out of park the moment the seatbelt clicked, pulling out of your driveway and down the road.

“Can’t believe you had one taste and now you’re a verified fang-banger.” Your friend spoke, grinning the moment she heard you suck your teeth. “Yet you were the one to always make fun of me.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door with your palm holding your cheek. “Whatever.. just be happy I tried it.” You spoke, smiling at the chuckle that escaped your friend.

The rest of the car ride was filled with music flowing from the radio and conversation from your lips; anticipating how the night would end. You needed this, deserved this you continually told yourself. Sukuna had his chance, and he fucked up. You weren’t gonna wait for some drummer that probably had multiple women a day.

No matter how much the thought stung.

The two of you reached the bar rather quickly, a new one— different from where Malevolence played that faithful night. You breathed, pulling the mirror down and staring at your reflection; flurrying the chest length boho braids. A hum escaped you the moment you were satisfied, closing up the mirror and turning to exit the car.

Your friend was right behind you, shutting your doors at the same time and waltzing over to the bar interest; arms locked. Reaching the door, you flashed your cards to the vampire occupying the threshold— him giving the information a quick once over before nodding with a toothy smile.

“Welcome, ladies.” With a wink he sent you to off, stepping to allow you inside. You entered the bar, smiling and looking around. It was simple, similar to the first one you went to. But different— given Sukuna wasn’t here.

The two of you made a beeline for the barstools, sliding on top of them and ordering two shots each. You turned in your seat, looking around the area. “Hm..” You hummed softly, leaning to rest your cheek into your hand. “How do you tell which vampires want to fuck you and which ones want to eat you?”

You friend snorted, sliding the shots closer to your forms the moment they were placed down. “That’s what makes it so fun, (Y/N).” She replied, lifting a shot.

You rolled your eyes at her claim, reaching for your own and clinking the glasses together. You threw back the shot easily, smoothing a finger across your lip to catch any droplet of alcohol. You resumed your scanning, searching for someone that popped out within the sea of vampires and humans. Your eyes finally landed on someone. He was handsome, decently so; adoring a shaved haircut and dressed in black.

Your gazes locked, you giving a small smile before turning back to the bar, grasping your second shot. You downed it, pulling back and hissing as the alcohol burned your throat. A good burn, one you felt was melting your restraints away slowly. You gently pressed your lips together, savoring the taste of the alcohol.

Which was interrupted the moment another glass was placed infront of you, your eyes switching over to the bartender; question clear on your features. He flashed you a simple smile in return, hands focused on cleaning a glass. “The gentleman over there.”

You turned to where the worker had motioned, eyes landing on the man you were just staring down. He lifted his glass to you, lips curled to showcase pearly white fangs. You smiled back, turning to your best friend. “Free drinks?” You spoke in a low tone, fingers curling around the shot glass.

Your friend snickered, coming close. “Better get your ass over there before he finds someone else to spoil.” She drawled, gently shouldering you.

Ignoring the nagging feeling, the anxiety; you stood, pressing the bottom of your skirt down and grabbing your shot. You moved towards the man, careful not to step on toes or bump into someone. Finally you approached him, stepping so you were just two feet away.

An acrylic tapped against the glass, smiling down at him. “Thanks for the drink.” You mused sweetly, lifting it to your lips and taking a sip. The man sat up a bit, legs spreading and rocking slightly.

“Anything for you.” He spoke, head tilting as his eyes not so secretly danced down your form. Satisfaction was clear in his face, placing his cup down on the table beside him. “Need a seat?” He questioned, smoothing his hand down his thigh, eyebrows rose.

Your lidded eyes followed his large hand, a coy smile plastered on your features. With a lean you were placing your empty glass to the side, stepping between his legs and sitting down on his thigh. His arm snaked around your waist, securing his hand there so you didn’t slide off. “So sweet.. are vampires always so polite?”

He chuckled at your words, “I can’t speak for all of us, but I— am a gentleman.”

“Clearly.” You spoke, leaning closer. Conversation between you and this stranger, filling the air endlessly. Your eyes would follow the way his tongue glided across those pointed fangs, clearly desperate to bite you.. maybe more. The thought caused excitement to brew, though wondering why he was hesitating. Was there a clear reason?

There was. Or rather, his hesitation came from a person currently staring the two of you down.

Red eyes were fixated on the scene, various emotions swirling in its gaze. Sukuna couldn’t believe the disgusting sight before him, rather he didn’t want to. The moment you entered the bar he was staring, watching the way your plump ass would peek out under that poor excuse of a skirt, your lips against the glass, and so much more. The glass of alcohol infront of him was long forgotten, completely focused on you and nothing else.

The vampire wondered whether to approach you, or rather how to. You were bound to be upset given his month’s absence, probably even ignore his presence. So for now he sat glued to his seat, running through his mind for the perfect words. During his little dilemma you had risen from your seat, switching over to someone.

Some vampire. Some vampire that wasn’t him.

If he knew any better Sukuna would think you were doing this to get back at him. But you hadn’t even noticed him, despite the way his eyes were basically burning holes into the back of your head. You were so focused on him, on that poor excuse of a replacement. The man could feel his annoyance grow, eyebrows pushed close with his hand closed tight.

Why was Sukuna so pissed? It wasn’t hard for him to get his dick wet; just previously being interrupted by some random groupie — which he declined rather harshly. So why, why exactly did seeing you cozied up to some random piss him off so bad?

Sukuna didn’t know the answer to that question, which annoyed him even further.

Your hands trailed down the man’s chest, humming a little to his words. You had long tuned him out, trying to figure out how to get him in a secluded place. Whilst thinking over your little plan the man suddenly stopped talking, stiffening. You blinked, pulling back to glance at his eyes; spotting them glued on something behind him. “You ok—“ You yelped the moment a tight grip wrapped around your wrist, easily being lifted from the man’s lap.

A cool arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar body. Your heart pounded against your chest, gaze trailing from a black shirt up to Sukuna’s hardened features, knees going weak the moment you noticed the harsh glare he was giving you. You looked for snarky words, maybe even an annoyed comment; but nothing came out. With just one look the anger you felt had washed away, replaced with anticipation and want.

Sukuna took one look to the man sitting down, releasing an amused scoff. “Didn’t take you for a desperate slut, (Y/N).” He spoke freely, ignoring the way you lightly hit his chest. The vampire turned, leading you away. You tripped up a bit, quickly following, trying to keep up with his speed.

“I’m not a sl—“

“Shut up.” He murmured harshly, watching your pretty glossed lips clamp up quickly. The man lead you to the back of the bar, approaching a door. With ease he opened it, entering and releasing you to turn to lock.

You realized he lead you into some random private room, similar to the one before. Except a bed laid in the middle of it, a lamp, and a dresser. You decided not to question it, especially when his form brushed your back, hands reaching over to grip your front. Before he could speak you were turning quickly, pressing your hands against his chest.

“No, you don’t get to ghost for a month and then snatch me away from some guy you’re jealous of.”

Sukuna snarled, hands falling to the back of your thighs and tugging you flush against him. “If you think I’m jealous of him, I must not have done a good enough job at teaching you the difference between me and some other man you lay with.” He pressed forward, leading you backwards.

You scoffed a bit, ignoring the soft blankets hitting the back of your knees. “You said that for humans, he was a vampire.” You countered, flashing a small smirk. You regretted your words the moment you felt a hand leave your thigh, a small gasp escaping you as strong fingers gripped your cheeks.

“Oh, you’re right..” Sukuna mused, hand trailing to cup your chin, thumb pushing against your lips and intruding your mouth. “Guess I’ll have to drill the fucking lesson into your head then; you’ll never meet someone that can fuck you as good as I do.” His last words came out harsher, pushing to lay you out on the bed.

You attempted to press your legs closed but he was quicker, large form stepping between them all while pushing his thumb farther down your mouth; listening to the music of your gags.

“Keep your legs open, don’t even think about closing them.” Sukuna spoke, pushing at a thigh to spread you even wider. Thumb and hand still occupying your face, his other hand moved to flip your skirt up, eyes zoned in on your cunt covered by the thin fabric of your panties and fishnets. The man shook his head a little, a subtle grin taking over his face. “Such a needy thing, walking around a vamp bar with barely anything on.”

The small whine of embarrassment you released went unnoticed, Sukuna instead focusing on tugging the fishnets you wore and in one swift motion; tearing them right at the crotch. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his thumb from your mouth to let out an annoyed; “Sukuna! Don’t ruin my clothes!”

“What, you gonna do something about it?” The man dared, tugging on the thong you wore for a moment before ripping that too. He grinned at the whine that escaped you, pulling the ruined garments off your body. “Thought so. Just lay there like a good slut and take what I’m giving you.”

Two fingers glided up and down your slit, your essence slowly escaping from the gentle touches. So delicately, barely even grazing you. The vampire was fucking teasing you, spreading you open slowly before slipping his fingers away before you could even think of moving your hips. You hissed as his thumb brushed your clit, attempting to chase the feeling but him moving away far too quickly.

Your hands clung to the small shirt you wore, glossy eyes staring at the man. “Sukuna— come on..” You drawled out, a gasp of frustration escaping you the moment he pushed a finger in before removing it. Your eyes widened however the moment his palm slammed against your pussy, your back arching off the bed as the pain and pleasure mingled into a single feeling. “Fuck.. please, please—“

“Wasting all that breath begging.” Sukuna spoke lowly, hand rising to slap your pussy again. Your legs shook as his fingers caught your clit, walls fluttering around nothing as your arousal continued to trickle down. Your whines were music to his ears, pushing your thigh once again before you could close your legs. “Needy fucking pussy..” The man murmured, fingers creeping down— plunging inside without warning.

Your walls clung to his thick digits, groaning the moment he began to scissor them inside. They rubbed against your gummy walls, pressing against a spongy spot inside you. Your eyes were pinched close at this point, hips moving to chase your orgasm. Some nagging feeling told you he would deny it, so you did the best you could; riding and maneuvering to feel his fingers deeper.

The man just let you, watching you completely ruin yourself on his digits; lips curled into the sickest smile. Your walls were clenching tight now, the intensity of your hips increasing to meet each thrust of his fingers. A mantra of swears escaped you, the band inside ready to burst at any moment.

“Already gonna cum aren’t you?” Sukuna questioned despite already knowing the answer, the wet squelches of your pussy following his words. You whined out pleas to come, hand falling to his wrist to keep it there. His lips spread even wider, fangs on display as not so surprisingly; removed his fingers.

You released a dramatic whine, tears pricking at your eyes as you gripped his wrist. “Fuc—fuck.. why’d y— mm!” You raised body met the bed the moment he slapped your messy pussy, knees knocking as the tears trickled down your cheeks. Sukuna cooed softly, grabbing the inside of your thighs and pushing them wide once again.

“Such a fucking crybaby..” The man teased, pushing your legs up, allowing your thighs to brush your chest. Wordlessly he leaned down, tongue poking out to glide across your slit. His grip tightened the moment you flinched, nails digging into your skin and simply keeping you there. The thick muscle glided up and down, tasting your arousal as if the finest wine. Sukuna adjusted you so your heat as flush against his face, nose bumping into your clit while his tongue spread and toyed with you.

Your hands gripped the blankets underneath, legs trembling in his hands as bellows of pleasure escaped you. It began to hurt so good the moment his tongue furiously flicked against your sensitive body, the pleasure racking through you. Your hand traveled down gripping fluffy pink tresses for leverage. Your hips rose into his face, grinding so languidly the man chuckled; the vibrations hitting your pussy in all the right places.

Sukuna released a thigh allowing his arm to press both legs up before his hand traveled, knuckle circling your fluttering hole. With zero effort he was pushing two inside, curling the digits whilst taking your swollen bud between his lips.

The thought of his fangs sinking into your most sensitive area entered your mind, completely washed away the moment he began to suck. Your back arched, gripping his hair hard as all fear left you completely. His name came out in strangled gasps and moans, legs withering above you.

His pace quickened the moment he felt your walls tighten even more, pressing his fingers deeper inside you. You begged to come, shameless pleas that you would surely be embarrassed of later. But for now, you didn’t care; desperate to paint his face with your arousal.

Luckily, Sukuna was just as desperate— smirking as he continued his movements. All too quickly you came, messily grinding on the man’s face as you rode the high. Your pussy spasmed, come tainting his palm as his fingers slowed down before pulling out completely.

Sukuna lapped up your arousal, ignoring your sensitive whines before releasing you over the torture. He moved his arm to allow your legs to land on the bed, rising and crawling over your body. The vampire grinned down at you, watching your eyes struggle to stay on him. “Look at that,” He mocked slowly, hand gliding to grip your cheeks. “— all that talk and you’re already tired. What a joke..” His face moved to neck, tongue dragging across your heated skin. The way you shivered had the man reeling, mouth opening even wider as his fangs easily broke the skin.

You gasped out, clinging to his shirt as the pain flooded your body. “Su—sukuna..” You whined, feeling his lips press against your skin; slowly delving on your blood. The pain slowly withdrew, pleasure replacing the moment his hand trailed back between your legs, thumb pressing against your clit. The sensations fought for dominance, your lip trembling and caught between your teeth. Your hips rose into his hand, stopping the moment he punched your swollen bud, however.

After minutes of his drinking Sukuna was satisfied, dragging his tongue along the indents of his fangs to seal the wound. He licked your blood from his lips, eyes closing for just a moment. The man refused to admit how much he missed not only you, but your blood— and how fucking good it tasted.

Finally his eyes opened, red gaze focusing on your face. Your eyes were closed, soft breaths escaping your glossy lips whilst gripping him so harshly. Sukuna was well aware he fucked up waiting a complete month before seeing you, but was beyond happy you were so pliable for him.

You craved him just as much as he craved you. A fact neither of you could ignore.

Sukuna carried his hand away from you, traveling to grab your neck gently. He rose your head from the bed, snatching your lips in a deep kiss. The faint taste of your blood had you returning the liplock with equal intensity— hand moving away from his back to instead wrap around his wrist. “Missed me so bad, didn’t you (Y/N)?”

You moaned softly against his lips in response, groaning the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, threatening to pierce the skin. Except he didn’t, continuing the intense kiss; tongue curling around your own and sucking.

With one hand occupied his other lowered to his pants, flicking the button open and slowly pushing them down. His boxers followed, garments hanging on his nicely shaped thighs as he crowded in close, dick resting against your lower stomach.

A soft whine entered his mouth the moment he pulled back, gliding his shaft between your folds. The man gave another thrust, brushing your aching bud so nicely. But not perfectly. Your hips rose to somehow alert him you needed more. Sukuna grinned against your lips, pulling back whilst releasing your neck. His hands carried down, pressing your hips against the bed all while fucking himself between your folds.

With each grind your stomach was caving, desperately searching for friction he was withholding. His name exited your lips in a pathetic gasp, hands moving to his arm. You pleaded silently, glossy gaze staring at his own amused one.

“Mm.. use your words.”

You breathed deeply, skin hot and completely needy— slightly fed up with his teasing. But you knew better then to test him, knowing the man would have no problem pulling his pants back on and leave you stranded there. Your teeth bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to ignoring the buzz of pleasure you felt from his shallow thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, please..”

“Hm?” The vampire questioned, heading tilting as he leaned to hover over your body. His hand gripped your chin, turning to force eye contact. “Speak up, (Y/N).”

You struggled to keep your eyes focused on him, a pathetic whimper of; please Sukuna, fuck me! escaping you. A toothy grin was sent your way in response, Sukuna resting on his hunches.

“That’s it.. such a good little slut for me.” He spoke on bated breath, grasping your thighs. Placing your legs onto his shoulders the man nudged forward, cockhead pressing against your entrance before entering with minimal effort— given what a complete you already were.

The stretch hit you just like before, the pressure building in your stomach as your walls clung to his fat length. Your toes curled, head leaning back as strangled gasps escaped you. You were slightly grateful, given the man was pushing in slowly— but you were sure this was done to tease you, and nothing more.

“Taking me like you were made for me, sweetheart. Fu..fuck, did you seriously clench from that?” Sukuna groaned, lips still curled into that shit-eating grin. Soon enough he was all the way in, eyes focused on you split around him.

You were only given a moment to relax, a single one— before the vampire was pulling his hips back, plunging them forward far too quickly. The pace started out relentless, unforgiving; hands gripping your legs as he shoved you deeper into the soiled sheets. Your hands gripped them tightly, continuous strings of moans escaping your bruised lips. Something that Sukuna ate up completely.

“Such a mess, so fucking ru— ruined for…—” Sukuna hissed between groans, gritting his teeth at the way your walls fluttered around him; squeezing his length perfectly. “— anyone but me. No one else could fuck you like this, could they?”

You shook your head quickly, voice far too focused on moaning to even respond. But that wasn’t enough for Sukuna— no, he needed to hear the words spill from your mouth no matter how shaky they were. So he leaned down, forcing your legs up; ankles tainted in your strawberry cheesecake perfume brushing against your ears.

“Use your fucking words, (Y/N). You’re mine aren’t you?” His thrusts became even rougher, drilling you into the mattress and watching you completely lose yourself.

The babbles of confirmation began, stumbling over your words and repeating them. The most distinct being a high-pitched; “Ye—yes, fuck-! Only yo..yours!”

Sukuna’s grin only deepened, face falling to your collarbone. “Mm.. all fucking mine.” He rasped against your sweltering skin, sinking his teeth in without a single warning.

That was enough to push you over the edge, coming all over his length, essence trickling down his balls. Despite how much you panted, how your tired body ached— you knew you were far from done.

Pulling back, Sukuna licked up the drop of crimson that escaped the bite mark. His eyes trailed down your form, enjoying the way your chest rose and fell from the heavy breaths that escaped you, your glossy eyes focused on him, and so much more. Perfect. You embodied every single aspect of the word.

And Sukuna just adored ruining such perfection.

“Not done..” He muttered more to himself than anything, slowly pulling out of you— ignoring the whine you released. With a single hand he was turning you onto your stomach, walking off the bed to stand at the edge of it. There, he gripped your ankle to drag you down. “On your knees sweetheart.. that’s a good girl, so obedient.” A cool hand grasped your warm cheek the moment your knees were pressed against the sheets.

To your surprise Sukuna grasped your wrists, pulling your arms back to fold behind you. Your body rested above the bed, looking back at the man who was still grinning.

“Sukun—!” Your words were interrupted the moment he sunk into you, resuming the previous pace as if never leaving in the first place. His hands kept a tight hold on your wrists, leaving you with no place to move or run from his thrusts. Each one shook your entire body, the impact causing your ass to shake. Your head went slack between your shoulders, crying out as he angled his hips just right; plunging against the sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hah…—“ You gasped for air, trembling as his hips never faltered. You felt another orgasm brewing, eyes squeezing shut as your hands moved uselessly in his hold. “Gonna come, gonna come!” You managed to squeal out, eyes widening the moment he released a wrist to reach around and rub quick circles on your clit.

“Go on, don’t hold back; make a fucking mess.”

With his permission you were creaming all on his dick, entire body going limp and hitting the bed the moment he released your arm. Your legs shook from the aftershocks, reaching back blindly as tired moans escaped you. Sukuna snickered, swatting your hand away as he leaned over your body; front flush against your back.

Right in your ear the man mocked your moans, fangs tracing the shell of it. “Can barely keep your eyes open, huh? You got such a big mouth for someone that can barely last a single round— ha..” Sukuna groaned cruelly, pinching you with his teeth just to hear you whine.

His arms slid around your middle, bullying your insides as he chased his release. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder hard, relishing in the hoarse cry that escaped your raw throat.

The vampire was so close now, thrust uncoordinated with his gaze getting hazy. His lips were still attached to your shoulder, sucking you while continuing to ruin you. As if you weren’t ruining him, too.

A drawn out moan escaped you, coming around his cock for the final time that night— gasping the moment warmth flooded into your pussy; his thick seed painting your walls white.

Heavy pants escaped you, completely fucked out and simply resting against the bed. It took a moment to gently swat the man that was still sucking your blood, whining about you getting dizzy. Sukuna finally let up, pulling back and licking the wound.

He removed his arms from around you, watching your tired body slump against the bed. Rolling off you, he laid on his back, reaching over to pull you to lay on his chest.

A comfortable silence entered the room, your face placed in his neck whilst his hand was on your waist; groping every once in a while.

“How am I gonna walk out without panties, Sukuna?” You questioned after a while, lifting from his neck to glance down at him. Sukuna turned to face you, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t know what to tell you..”

“Sukuna!”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

#mani writes ━━ ★ #black!reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x fem!reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x fem reader #sukuna jjk smut #sukuna smut #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna #anime x black!reader #anime smut #anime x reader #anime x female reader #vampire au #vampire sukuna #vamp sukuna x reader #vampire sukuna x black!reader #black reader #x black reader

[feyascorner]

8 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You try to swat him away, but his thumb swipes the droplets of blood to the side of your face, staring down at you with eyes that resemble rubies. You’ve always loved them, describing them as the gems you��ve stumbled across in such dire times, but now all you want to do is look away. They’re too harsh. They’re too cold. They’re too him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as he licks your blood off the pad of his thumb.

“It would’ve been better if one of us died that day.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. a little peek at what this guy is thinking before i move onto act 2 of this fic!! <3 also this specific flashback is not the usual pre breakup flashback it's right after the blushing mermaid incident !!

His nightmares have long stopped making him sick.

The same dreams where Cazador would have shackles around his neck and wrists, laughing maniacally while he carves runes into Astarion’s flesh, no longer bring him the same dread the morning after. Instead, he feels a kind of numbness that spreads past his physical being into the mindless stare he bores into the ceiling. Even before the birds awaken outside the city, it's quiet in the morning. This eerie sense of stillness used to be his favorite time of day.

Because when there’s nobody outside, there’s nobody to bring to Cazador.

Now, it feels too empty. Too alone. As if he’s the only person left in Faerun.

With nobody but his own mind, he begins to replay the events of the last few months. No matter how many times he does it, it doesn’t seem quite real. The nautiloid, the grove, the underdark—all of it. From the second he first bathed in the sun’s glory to the second he lost it all anyway, it doesn’t seem real.

It doesn’t seem real that he once had someone to care for him.

But he supposes he’s mistaken. He’s had plenty of affection throughout his centuries lurking on the city's streets, albeit rare for something genuine. Regardless, it did happen. Like Sebastian or other fleeting victims of Cazador who weren’t as crude as his usual prey. Genuine people whose biggest crime was falling for Astarion’s charms at the wrong time and place.

He doesn’t remember most of their faces anymore. He’s given up on trying to.

And like clockwork, his mind fades to the moment he first tasted humanoid blood as he begins to zone out from a particular part of the ceiling. A proper meal, rather than those disgusting rats on cellar floors he’s been allowed for most of his vampiric life. He remembers the liquid gold sliding down his throat and the sheer energy that came with it—some of which he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls the heavenly metallic taste of your lifeline. How, despite all the blood, all he could smell was your soap. How hot you’d felt against his own cold and unforgiving husk of a body.

Astarion swallows, forcing himself to focus on the chipped wood on one part of the ceiling.

While on any other occasion, he’d remind himself that he’d never have a taste of you again, you had given it to him. Even though he swore all the gods above were against his odds, you’d offered him your blood as he lay pathetically against the walls of the Blushing Mermaid.

But it had been different this time. Instead of that soft smile you’d give him when he’d drink from you in the past, all that remained was a stern frown. You hadn’t run your fingers through his curls and instead chose to grit your teeth, forcing your eyes away from where he bit into your wrist. Your generosity hadn’t been one stemming from affection but one of necessity.

You had flinched away from his touch.

He’s not surprised. In fact, he should’ve expected you to shove him away the second his mouth neared your skin, and he did expect it. But instead, all you’d done was brace yourself—as if you hated his touch—and forced yourself to stay still for his sake. It was akin to watching himself endure the skin of so many strangers in hopes of convincing them into Cazador’s dungeon all those years ago. He knows it’s not the same. He knows this, but hells, did he hate how dry his throat felt after, despite feeling satiated.

He would’ve preferred if you’d just left him there to bleed.

He hates that you hadn’t done so.

He hates that you hadn’t let him ascend.

He hates that he’s forced to live alongside you.

He hates you.

Before he can tell what he’s doing, he’s standing in front of your bed. How he got here is a blur, but he has a dagger in one hand and a fist in the other. You lie blissfully asleep, unaware of the blood-red eyes that stare down at you in a daze, illuminated by nothing but the moonlight peering through the windows. He takes a moment to take in the state of your room–and though he’s not shocked at the mess scattered around the ground and desks, he’s not pleased by it either.

“Gods, how do you even live like this?” he asks, as if you can hear him.

He glances at the glint of his blade and then at your sleeping face. The same face once peppered at least a hundred kisses against his cheek, laughing loudly when he’d feign annoyance at the marks left behind. You’d only snickered then, tackling him into an embrace and allowing him to return the sentiments. Those same lips of yours are now chewed raw, almost a bloody red.

“I could finish this endless fight right now,” he whispers, his grip tightening around the handle of your blade. “I could wake you with this knife at your throat, and you’d have no choice but to kill me. I’d return the violence, of course, but only one of us would live. There would be no use fighting any longer.”

Your chest only rises and falls steadily, and he notices he hasn’t seen you at such peace since he last slept beside you all those months ago. He doesn’t see the same expression anymore because when you look at him now, it’s always accompanied by furrowed brows or a downward quirk of your lips.

He wishes you would respond.

“Ha,” he scoffs pitifully, dropping his hand. He places the blade in its rightful place on your bedside table again and sighs. “This is much too pathetic of a death for either of us. If we were to kill one another, it should be done properly—not in this mess of a room.”

With one last pathetic scan at the details of your face, he turns to leave. But before he can even reach the door, he hears a soft gasp from your bed.

For a moment, he thinks he’s been caught.

When he whips around, all he sees is your clearly asleep form, yet this time, there is no peace in your expression. Instead, it’s scrunched up into a painful grimace as your fingers grasp at your sheets and your mouth falls open to take in breaths of air that don’t come to you. He thinks you might be choking on god knows what until one of your hands flies to your throat. Your nails claw at a collar he can’t see.

He glances at his own hands.

Oh.

Astarion slowly paces back to his spot beside your bed, watching as you writhe against nothing but the air. He realizes you’re not suffocating, but it sure looks that way. He doesn’t know what to do besides watch blankly with wide eyes, but fortunately for him, the moment doesn’t last long. In seconds, your hand falls from your throat, and you continue to grimace painfully. Still, you’re no longer choking.

The bruises have faded, but only physically.

The vampire feels his hand inching toward you but freezes, unable to bring himself within a foot of your restless body without doing something he’d regret. His mind flashes back to how you’d flinched away from his touch, and it’s enough to make him drop your hand again. And being unable to decipher what he’s supposed to feel, he just stares at the wetness of your lashes, his jaw tight.

His voice is rough as he speaks.

“You foolish bard.”

“You’re one of the Gur children.”

“So what if I am,” the small child, too frail for her age despite the fangs protruding from her gums, crosses her arms, huffing. It’s been mere minutes since you managed to sit her down on the forest grounds, bent down on one knee to reach her eye level, but she remains positively stubborn, glaring at the other vampire spawn who stands idly by your side while twirling a comb in his fingers. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s important. You were turned recently, then, weren’t you?” you frown, and a flicker of recognition passes her before it vanishes again. “Why are you alone? Where are the other kids?”

“That’s what you want to ask?” Astarion hisses from your side, his hands stopping. “Stop indulging such trivial questions and demand to know whether the little brat was the one to kill that poor husband. The clock is ticking, and I still have to hunt.”

You snap in his direction. “Will you stop it? She’s a child.”

“A spawn—she’s a spawn. Get it right, darling, she’s no child.”

“You’re acting like a nine-year-old yourself.”

“Ha! As cute as it is that you’re attempting to insult me, let’s leave the lines to me, hm? Your delivery couldn’t be less enthusiastic if you tried.”

“This isn’t a joke, Astarion.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

You glare at him, and he glares straight back. The smallest of snorts, stifled by a hand, comes from Berry, and you both turn to look at her in an instant. By the time you do, she’s already back to huffing, her brows furrowed.

With an exhausted sigh, your shoulders slump. “So, did you kill Roger Highberry? Was everything an act?”

She hesitates, and though you dare to believe that what you see is sorrow, she wipes it away with a blink of an eye, gaze glued to the ground before her. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t lie.”

“Do you think we’re idiots?” You nearly roll your eyes at his voice. “You’re telling me a spawn—one that’s been newly turned, might I add—wouldn’t go ballistic at the sight of fresh blood sleeping soundly just a room over each night?”

“I didn’t!” she spits, baring her teeth. “And I’m not talking to you! I don’t want to talk to you, you—you—asshat!”

It’s apparent that it’s her first time using the word, but you don’t bother mentioning it.

“You wretched little–!”

“Berry,” you sigh for the umpteenth time, ignoring the fuming elf behind you. “I want to believe you, but I need you to be honest. And when I say honest, I mean absolutely everything. Including why you followed me out here and tried to attack me earlier.”

She falters. And almost shamefully, she looks down at her hands again. “...I ran away from the other spawns. I didn’t want to be with them anymore, and I pretended to be an orphan to stay with Cora and Roger.”

“What?” you blink. “Why would you do that?”

“Ulma taught us vampires are evil for the blood they take from people,” she mumbles. “I didn’t want to be evil too. Even if it means leaving my friends.”

As she speaks, her face dawns with a wave of solemnness–one too familiar to yourself.

“If you’re not with the others, why did you send me to the Blushing Mermaid knowing that there’d be an ambush?” you finally ask, gentler than you should be with how Astarion impatiently taps his foot behind you, but you couldn’t care less. “It could’ve killed us.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” she blurts, searing eyes darting to your silver-haired companion. “I was trying to kill him. He tried to perform a ritual and kill the rest of us with the power he’d get…I might not be with my friends, but I don’t want them to die either. I don’t want to die.”

You feel your breath still. Astarion does the same, now unmoving from his spot. However, his shock stems more from offense. “Cazador would have rid of you anyway. You were doomed from the start.”

You glare at him, still maintaining a soft tone toward the girl. “He can’t harm you anymore, Berry. Nobody can.”

She points a finger at Astarion. “I can’t be sure until he’s gone!”

“Berry–” You reach toward her hand.

“I let you see Dalyria so you’d turn him in! Not to keep him!” she hisses, slapping you away with a snarl. “And the worst of all, you let him drink from you! You let someone who wants to kill the rest of us drink from you while the rest of us have to pay greatly just to survive! If you’re his friend, then I have to hate you too!”

Eyes going wide, you find yourself standing again, cheeks tinging red. “I—that was just–”

Astarion’s attention still seems elsewhere. “I don’t want to kill you, as appealing as it sounds at the moment. Even I don’t indulge in harming children, despite how annoying I find brats like you.”

“Stop lying!” she shrieks. “Petras said you’d kill us all! That the second you finish the ritual, you’d kill the rest of us to make sure you have no competitors. That there isn’t another person like you who’d go against the will of their very master—”

“Though it sounds positively delightful, I wouldn’t be the one doing all that bloodshed,” he snaps in return, fangs visible through the grit of his teeth. “It seems my dear brother has misinformed you. The ritual itself would’ve wiped you all—which would’ve been far better for the city, clearly—but I would only be making a choice. A sacrifice.”

While the two are too caught up in the wrath of their distaste for one another, realization quickly flashes across your eyes. Suddenly, you’re standing between the two, one hand inches from Astarion’s chest as a warning, while you keep Berry shielded behind your free arm. The act catches him off guard, and you think the downward curl of his lips should scare you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Go hunt—or whatever it is that you do,” you demand, fingers inching closer to your weapon. It feels too dramatic, but you decide you can never be too safe. “I need to talk to her without you here to bicker and argue with a child.”

He scoffs. “Talk about what exactly? What more is there to know? You do realize that if I were to leave now, the brat would take another attempt at your life.”

“She’s a kid. I can take care of myself.”

“When you cowered behind me just minutes ago over a damn squirrel?”

Hells. You should drive a stake through his heart just for that.

Your eyes narrow. You might’ve entertained this quip on another occasion, but that moment is not now. “Go.”

His gaze flits from you back to the child, his expression indecipherable. You want to look away from his harsh stare, but your pride doesn’t dare allow you. And you’re thankful for it. “20 minutes then. 20 minutes only, and then I shall return.”

You nod.

With one last fleeting glance and a hesitant footstep, he turns on his heel, stalking to disappear into the darkness of the woods. It doesn’t take long because, after only a few dark strides and the rustling of leaves, he’s gone, leaving only you and the blazing vampire spawn behind you.

“Is that what Petras told you?” your brows furrow at Berry. “Is that what he told everyone else? That Astarion would’ve killed you once, he became an ascendant?”

She stares up at you, gaze blazing with rage. But there’s more to it. Loneliness, longing, and the most prominent: grief. Grief for the life that’s been taken away from her and reciprocated her payment in the form of fangs. She adjusts uncomfortably in her cloak, her tiny fists clenched at either of her sides.

Her silence is the answer you need.

This must be why the other spawn isn’t against the ascension. They can’t be against it because they don’t know how it works in the first place. Just as Astarion’s siblings believed the ascension would’ve rebirthed them alongside Cazador, the remaining 7000 spawns believe the same—almost ironic, in an endless cycle that repeats itself no matter what. They aren’t even aware of the ticking clock attached to their lifelines.

“Astarion wasn’t lying,” you say softly. “He wouldn’t have killed you after becoming an ascendant. He would’ve killed you becoming the ascendant. It’s the price of the ritual.”

She releases a frustrated grasp of her nails digging into her palm. “No, you’re just saying that because you’re his friend!”

“I’m not his friend,” you admit.

And despite expecting a pang of regret pulling at the strings of your heart as you say the words. No tightness in your chest, no dryness in your throat, and no shame for the lies pouring so effortlessly out of your lips. It makes you think that perhaps it’s not a lie. You dearly hope that’s the case.

“Then what are you?”

"I'm like you,” you say. "He tried to kill me too."

She frowns. “You let him drink from you. Nobody does that. Not for something like us.”

Your heart cracks a bit at her words, but you shake your head. “It was to keep him alive. To save him, as I intend to do for you.”

“You? You’ll save us?” she scoffs, clearly unconvinced, as she picks at the makeshift bandages wrapped around the wound on her arm. It’s a flimsy piece of cloth you tore from your cloak, but it’s better than risking it against whatever natural elements the forest offers. You gently pry her fingers away, preventing her from agitating the split skin.

“I did last time,” you remind her. “I’m the one that stopped Astarion from ascending—did Petras tell you that too?”

She falters. And while there’s an apparent hesitance in her eyes, there’s something behind all the rough exterior she’s built up from an undeniably traumatic experience of becoming a spawn. She looks up at you when you squeeze her tiny hand, almost hopeful. Because despite what irreparable damage the past few months have done to her, she remains a child. An innocent caught in a war of bloodshed. And what more can you gather from a child but hope?

“You want to stay with Cora, right?”

She nods sheepishly.

“Then you’ll stay with her,” you smile. “I’ll lend you my trust if you lend me yours, and you don’t run off anyway.”

“Promise?” You hold out a pinkie. She stares at it, but when she meets your eyes, she lifts her own hand to interlink with yours. For a moment, she almost looks like she's forgotten about the reality of her situation. That even if she were to live, she wouldn't be able to stay with Cora for long, given her inevitable nature.

How childish. Innocent. And you’d do anything to keep it from becoming more sinister.

“You let the girl go?” After ensuring Berry returns to her room, Astarion repeats the question for the third time as you turn away from the Highberry household in utter disbelief. The cold night air sends chills down your skin, and you wrap your torn cloak tightly around yourself, walking straight past him. Despite your apparent intentions of ignoring him, he trails after you urgently, following no matter how quickly your steps take you through the dead stillness of the city. “And what if she decides to kill the wife?”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he hisses. “What makes you so sure she can go against her very nature to kill just so she can stay in a bedroom she shares with four other kids? All of which are very appetizing meals to her, by the way.”

You shoot him a glare. “I’m sure you would know.”

“I do. Which is all the more reason for me to step in so we don’t have to deal with yet another dead body on our hands.”

“I don’t need advice from someone who wouldn’t hesitate to use a comb as a weapon.” You rub the side of your head to soothe your headache.

“Seeing as you set a spawn free into the city, I’d argue differently.”

“Will you just shut up?”

“I didn’t accompany you to be a pretty toy piece at your side, darling. With the foolish choices you’re making, I have no other choice but to nag,” he rolls his eyes. The snarkiness in his voice is enough to snap what remains of your already worn patience.

“And you think you’re allowed to give me advice?” you spin around to face him, stopping dead in your tracks. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re basically a hostage! You don’t get to make decisions on what we do!”

“Well, who else will you get advice from now that all your little friends seem to have lost all respect for you?” 

Your jaw unhinges. He stands firm, arms crossed, and it’s enough to make your blood boil. “Gods, you’re—you’re such an asshole.”

Astarion laughs bitterly. “Care to tell me anything new?”

“About your personality? We’d be here all night. You’re also forgetting that I fought with the others for your sake, you bastard,” You step closer, teeth gnashing together. “I saved your life.”

“I would’ve survived with or without your help, darling.”

“You only got this far because our friends helped you!”

“Would you like me to be grateful?” he guffaws, and your chest tightens at how condescending it sounds. “Because must I remind you that you also stole the only chance of me escaping this filthy life where I rot away on the streets and feed on lowly criminals? You’ve forced me to be what I am, and now you think I’m indebted to you?”

Why does he keep saying that? You fight the urge to just punch him.

“I’m not saying you owe me anything, you fool!” your eyes meet his in a blaze of fire. Your heart beats rapidly, and you sincerely hope it’s gone unnoticed. “How many times do I have to tell you that I never forced you to do anything—I was stopping you from becoming like Cazador!”

He’s suddenly looming over you, his gaze sharper than before in a frenzied manner. Just mentioning his old master’s name is enough to push him on the offensive. “I never would’ve become like him…not after what that bastard did to me. I would’ve become stronger and been able to help you. Us. So why in the bloody hells you ever stopped me–”

The words pour out like a mountain of sand held by a twig, and you reach to grab the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t need help! Neither of us did, Astarion. It would’ve been hard, but we would’ve made it out like we always do if we just tried!”

You’re unsure you’ll make it out this time, but does it matter anymore?

His frown creases as if none of your pleas are getting through his thick skull. And while you have half a heart to keep blurting out whatever comes to your mind, his sudden silence and the smallest of steps he takes away from you make you seal your mouth shut. Like he’s closing the door again. Like he’s leaving you all alone again.

Your voice drops, and you bring your hand back to your side.

“You’re not being fair, Astarion.”

“Darling, I’ve followed all your stupid rules and remained on my best behavior till now, even when I could’ve caused more than a few casualties. Hells, I even watched that girl go back to the orphanage alive,” he says, quieter. “I’ve been more than fair.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What is it, then?”

“It feels like you know everything I’m constantly thinking of, whether it be you or something else,” you mumble. “But you won’t let me know what you’re thinking. I’m not asking you to tell me your deepest secret…I just need to know what I’ve done to deserve the bullshit I have to put up with. I took away the ascension from you; I get that, but is that really it? Is that really why you hate me this much? What’s worse, is that very time it feels like we can finally talk, you just—you tell me that you hate me again and then leave it there to fester even more anger on both sides.”

Astarion stares at you, his expression impossible to read. Horrified but unrelenting of the mountain of unsaid words, you continue. “Just talk to me.”

Why, you want to ask. He knows you only did what you thought was best at the time, so what have you done to deserve such cruelty?

Why do you hate me so much?

He gives you a long, hard look. It was surely only a few split seconds, but it seems like hours as you don’t even dare to breathe, rooted in place as you await his answer. It’s infuriating that you can’t tell what he’s thinking even now. He’s always been far too good at masking his feelings, and while he’d used it against you once, you never thought he’d have to again. And finally, when he moves, he doesn’t move to speak.

He shuts his eyes, and when they open again, he’s grinning. That fake, beautiful grin that brings you so much anguish and conflict simultaneously that it makes the sides of your head pound with the beating of your heart. “Fine, darling. Let’s talk if you want to so badly.”

It's so artificial that it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You wish he’d just tell you he hates you again.

He’s blocking you out again. Again and again, no matter how many times you take a step forward, he takes a few back, and the distance between the two of you grows larger. It’s just so exhausting and repetitive. You’re sick of it. 

“Why do I hate you? Where should I start?” he hums. “Ah, perhaps when you took it upon yourself to be the one to stab a knife through Cazador’s heart. I’m rather curious myself, darling, how did it feel? Could you feel his screams through your dagger, or were you too occupied watching the life drain from his face? Was it hard to reach his heart? Did he struggle? Oh, do tell, I’d love to know how that bastard suffered.”

The words feel like a knife to your own chest.

“To think that could have been me if I hadn’t seduced you when we met…You could’ve pierced a stake through my heart when you first caught me longing for your blood. Can you believe it? If you’d just killed me then, you wouldn’t be standing here now. You wouldn’t have let me bed you in that dirty forest clearing, and you would have never felt my lips upon yours. I could have chosen anyone else---anyone in the camp---and we wouldn't be standing here, but Gods was it easy to seduce you."

He stops, and his next words make the blood drain from your face.

"Just like the thousand other victims I brought to Cazador. You're no different from them...all you want from me are my weaknesses. You kept me this way to keep me fragile, and pathetic."

Has listening to someone's voice always been so difficult?

“I didn't—”

“But I suppose you’re the victor in another sense, my dear,” he sneers, his face impossibly close to yours, but he’s never felt so far away. “You should count yourself lucky. Few can say they’ve managed to bed me and survive to tell the tale. You even managed to make me fall for you! You, a simple naive bard, managed to seduce me! And Gods, did you put up a glorious show, darling, betraying me like you did. It was an ingenious move on your part, preventing me from reaching my full potential—the hero of Baldur’s Gate wouldn’t want anything tainting their beloved city with blood, after all–”

No, this is all wrong. This does nothing but make things worse. You wish he'd just stop.

In the blink of an eye, Astarion stops speaking. With expecting eyes, his attention flickers to the knife now pointed at his pale throat. You practically gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you inch the knife just a few centimeters from breaking skin. “Shut up.”

Astarion’s glare narrows on your hand. “Enough talking for you?”

You see that whatever man you fell in love with in what feels like another lifetime was a mask. Deep down, you’ve known that the face he wears is nothing but a facade ever since this entire fiasco started and he’d situated himself into your home. Yet, the cruelty still hurts. It hurts how much he detests you with the very same face that once worshipped your very breath. Gods, you’d been so foolish, thinking a damn vampire spawn could feel anything other than hunger….much less love.

He’d likely prefer to eat out your heart than hold it in his cold, dead hands. He’d watch you with those sultry eyes as he sinks his teeth into what remains of your heart and feels nothing but his own thirst being satiated.

So you won’t give him the opportunity. You won’t give him your heart again, even as the sky falls and the ground dissipates.

You’ve done it once, and you’ve never regretted anything more.

“You’re turn, my dear,” he says. “If you wish to say something, feel free to do so.”

He steps closer, and the tip of your blade draws a small bead of blood. He doesn’t seem to care.

Red, red, red. Your vision is growing blurry.

You inhale sharply. Breathe. You can still breathe. Words that had been bottled up inside dissipate the longer you watch him, as you understand that no matter what you say or do, he will remain as he is. While you want to tell yourself it’s because time itself has ceased for him, you know he doesn’t want to change in the first place.

“I should kill once this is over,” you mutter calmly. His blood now falls down the side of your knife. “But I’m not like you. I’m not as pathetic or petty as you are, even though I’ve been through less than you probably have. I don’t attempt murder just because things don’t go my way.”

His smile twitches.

“If you like being alone so much, then I won’t stop you. Once this is all over, I never want to see you again. I don’t care what you do, but I just want you to disappear. I want you gone, forever, in whatever shadows you hide in during the day.”

It only seems like yesterday when you begged the moon to see him one last time.

Even though he’s speaking through his teeth, he nods as you bring your knife back to your side. “I’m glad we have something to agree on.”

You want to laugh, but you fear it’ll come out as cracked.

“And you’re right,” you wipe his blood off the dagger on your sleeve, not bothering to spare him a glance. “I should have let the others behead you when we met.”

If he wants to sabotage the little good left in his life, let him. If he wants to be miserable for the rest of his undying days over what’s already been done, let him. You don’t care anymore.

Amusement drips from his voice. “A shame.”

His finger tilts your chin upward, his thumb rubbing at the side of your cheek. It’s then that you realize there’s a whiff of blood coming from a wound on your skin—a result of the forest, you’d guess. You try to swat him away, but his thumb swipes the droplets of blood to the side of your face, staring down at you with eyes that resemble rubies. You’ve always loved them, describing them as the gems you’ve stumbled across in such dire times, but now all you want to do is look away. They’re too harsh. They’re too cold. They’re too him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as he licks your blood off the pad of his thumb.

“It would’ve been better if one of us died that day.”

He takes his time to respond. 

“I know.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@bitterrenegade@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom@iamlowkeycrying@deezus-roy@spiritraves@mariposakitten@dinobae-replyacc@whisperingwillowxox@bdudette@misscrissfemmefatale@atropapurpurea@cosywinterevenings@phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @deezus-roy @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm@divineknightmare@bangtanbecks@carolinelec@bitterbeanren @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added! I needed to redo the entire taglist because it wasn't functioning, so please let me know if I missed you :)

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff #astarion x oc #baldurs gate 3 x reader

[norrizzandpia]

She Doesn’t Know Who I Am (LN4)

Summary: Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.

Warnings: nothing really, the vaguest inference to alcohol consumption? If that, man, but lmk if i missed any ofc

Lando was always weary of the United States. From the intrusive people to the crazed, horrific politics, he always tried to stay away. However, once a year, or season, he had an obligation to make an appearance in one of the fifty maniacal states. This year, the region in which would be graced with his chaotic presence was that of New York.

Y/n was the typical college student, ruthless and stupid as she went through her days at NYU. Crazy parties and a lack of sleep filled her days as she struggled to get through her second to last year in school. While part of her hated the way New York operated and how unsafe she felt, there was nothing like the beauty of the city. Her whole life had been spent in a small town where she felt trapped and alone, but in the big city, she felt a part of something, almost as if she was finally contributing to something. What she was contributing to, she didn’t know, but, in her mind, that didn’t really matter.

What did matter, however, was her friends dragging her out of bed and forcing her to go out with them whilst on two hours of sleep.

“I can get bagels literally any day. Please,” She put her hands in prayer as she pleaded with her best friend, “Paige, let me go back to bed.”

Paige looked back at her as if she had grown three heads, “No way. You go back to bed now, you’ll sleep all day and then be screwed up tomorrow. Then, you’ll complain about your sleep schedule being off and get mad at me for not waking you up. This is a much easier Y/n to deal with, thank you very much.”

Her response seemed to shut Y/n up as she hung her head low and trotted behind her brunette friend.

—

The walk to the bagel place had been longer than usual as they ran into George, a homeless man who lived at the end of their street and they had come to love. He had been there since the moment they moved in, coming and going as he moved to different places to sleep. After a few years of becoming friends with him, they learned he was a veteran who came back with severe PTSD, and, in turn, had to deal with tumultuous debts for his tries to stop the depressing spiral. While he had successfully gotten over the painful flashbacks, he never came back from the money he owned, the main reason why he ended up on the streets. The girls had found sympathy for the man and whenever he was there, sitting at the end of their block, they gave him fifty dollars each, whether they were struggling with their own financial burdens or not.

His smile had sent them into the rest of their breakfast with happier attitudes as Y/n’s annoyance for being conscious disappeared. However, they returned for the entire duration they spent waiting in the long line in the cramped, stuffy deli. Nonetheless, once she had scarfed down her bagel sandwich and chugged some water, she found life to be much lighter.

—

Lando, on the other hand, had been wandering around Central Park aimlessly with Max and a few other McLaren PR employees. The group had been out shooting content for both the racing company and his own company, Quadrant. Checking out different sights and throwing middle fingers up when they crossed the Trump building, the two boys found themselves having lots of fun in the country they thought so little of.

“Maybe this shit isn’t that bad?” Max chuckled as they stared at the lake that stretched across the park, a piano sounding lightly behind them from a street performer.

Lando nodded, liking the way no one was recognizing him and he could just be, “Yeah, maybe it’s just the politics that dampens the whole thing.”

—

“I’ll seriously never get over how stunning it is in here,” Y/n whispered as she and Paige strolled through a particularly secluded area of Central Park.

“Mhm, me neither.” Paige smiled as the two girls cherished the moment together.

Y/n turned her head to catch the brunette’s brown eyes, “Ever think about what would have happened if we never met?”

Paige pulled a look, “Absolutely not. That sounds like hell.”

“You’re not wrong.” Y/n laughed, “But, seriously, like, how would we even be surviving right n-”

Her abrupt stop to her sentence had Paige turning to look at the girl. With Y/n’s jaw dropped and cheeks ablaze, she followed her best friend’s eyeline, stumbling upon two boys who looked about the same age as them.

“Wow.” Y/n said aloud as she stared, mesmerized, at the man.

“Which one are you looking at?” Paige tried to decipher.

“Brown curls,” Y/n responded immediately, allowing her best friend to finally hone in on the boy of her friend’s choosing.

Paige smiled softly as she pictured Y/n with the boy standing in front of them, a cute couple they would be.

“He’s cute. Go ask for his number!” Paige said excitedly as she pushed Y/n in the direction of the particularly striking young man.

Y/n instantly paled, “What?! No way! Absolutely not!”

“Why?! Y/n, you literally haven’t dated anyone since freshman year. Come on, you’ll never even see him again if he rejects you. Please? For me, at least?” Paige pleaded, giving her best friend a look that she couldn’t turn away.

Huffing, Y/n began walking away, muttering, “The things I do for you.”

—

Y/n first caught Lando’s eye in his peripheral. The quick flash of y/h/c had him turning around to quickly glance at the newfound presence.

He almost lost his footing at the sight of her.

Black leggings and a sweatshirt never looked so good on someone as she approached him. His eyes were followed by Max, the boy laughing at a Lando who was clearly very taken by the girl coming up to them.

“If she asks to take a picture, I’m going to be so devastated,” Lando whispered as she smiled at them, the sight making him want to melt to the ground and beg her to go out with him.

It dawned on him that he didn’t even know her name yet, but that was a passing thought as she came to stop in front of him.

“Hi,” She stared up at him, clearly nervous, “My friend is forcing me to do this, so don’t think I’m doing this willingly.”

Her next few words Lando was already preparing himself for. Either her sentence could send him into a euphoric orbit or she could crush his dreams by being a fan.

She took a deep breath, Lando smiling at her cute demeanor, before she continued, “I just thought you were really cute and thought that, maybe, I could get your number? My name’s Y/n, by the way.”

Max was quick to jump infront of his lovestruck friend, not trusting the girl’s intentions.

“Sorry, he doesn’t give out his number.” He shot out, Y/n grimacing as she took in the embarrassment.

“Is he a celebrity or something?” She tried to recover with jokes, but it just made the faces of the two boys pale more.

The one that she liked, the one with the soft curls, stepped in front of his friend as he shook his head, “No, no. He’s just overprotective,” He sent his friend a threatening gaze, “I’m Lando and I would love to give you my number.”

Y/n was too caught up in the meaning behind Lando’s look to catch the way he was staring down at her, brown eyes big and round as he shot her a toothy grin. Their eyes met, and she flushed under his stare.

Tucking some hair behind her ear, she quickly got out her phone, “Oh, cool! Here you go.”

Lando’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed in his work phone number, not his personal. While he wanted to trust in her cluelessness, he couldn’t be that reckless.

Sliding her phone back to her in a way that allowed for their fingers to brush against each other, Y/n beamed triumphantly, something Lando knew he was going to grow to love.

She stood there for a few moments before nodding her head and beginning her walk back to her friend, “I’ll call you soon. We’ll figure something out.”

Lando nodded eagerly at her, a sign that he liked her just as much as she liked him. When her figure was a dot in the distance, Max turned to him and smacked him on the chest, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!? You can’t just shovel out your number like that! That was way too dangerous, Lando.”

His stern lecture had Lando rolling his eyes, “Max, two things. 1) I gave her my work phone, and 2) I’m willing to bet my seat in McLaren that she has no clue who I am.”

His best friend shifted on his feet as he looked at him, “You really think so?”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen fans try to play it cool, and even then, when they outwardly say they know my favorite flavor of ice cream, I can tell they’re freaking out on the inside. Her nerves seemed more to be the type of just asking a random stranger out rather than meeting her idolized driver.”

Max shook his head, “If you insist.”

—

Paige smiled proudly at her best friend as they began making their way out of the park, “So, what was his name anyway?”

Y/n thought hard for a moment before guessing, “Land? Lanyard? Something like that. I can’t remember. I was too caught up in his biceps to comprehend anything he was saying to me. I just hope he isn’t a murderer.”

NOTE: lmk if you guys want me to make a part 2 to this where they go out on a few dates and a month in or so she finds out or he tells her (something roughly like that)

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #max fewtrell #new york #big apple #the big city #i love that city

[urfavlarry]

Hi, I love your Husk work as an overlord. Could I please request a husker x reader when he lost the game to Alastor. Short time after Reader becomes the Cashio Overlord that runs on the cashios that once owned by Husker. One day, the reader came by to see Husk at the hotel. Please and thank you

A/N: im not sure if i understood this well but i hope i wrote it well enough for you to enjoy! also sorry it took so long for me to write i was a bit busy but here it is<33 (and also reader doesn’t know about Husk at first :3 )

warnings: swearing,alcohol,bad grammar,mentions of death and bl00d

genre: angst??? and some fluff

——————————Flashback ——————————

You walk to your local bar, you and some guy you met online through a dating app were supposed to meet up there and get to know each other more. You liked the guy, he was nice and showed genuine interest in you, something guys didn’t really do that often. You put effort in dressing up today, wearing your best pair of clothes you had and fixing up your hair and just make yourself over all look presentable. “This guy better not ditch me.” You tell yourself as you look at the time; 7:02pm. You were supposed to meet up at 7 and he was late. “Not the best first impression.” You sigh when you suddenly hear someone yelling your name.

“Y/N! Hey it’s me the guy you have been talking to for the past few months? I’m so sorry I was stuck in traffic and I would’ve called but I just didn’t really think about it in that moment.” He says rubbing his neck nervously and smiles awkwardly. You smile at him and chuckle; “Don’t worry about it! Now let’s go have some fun!” You say excitedly and pull him to the bar.

The bar was fairly crowded, something you were expecting since it’s a pretty popular one at that. You order some drinks and take a seat in the corner of a bar. It was loud but you still managed to talk and drink the night away! You drank a bit too much that night and your head started to pound and the last thing you remembered was getting pulled into an alley by the guy and a sharp pain in your chest and blood on your hands.

————————End of Flashback ————————

After you fell down to hell you quickly realized your situation and tried your best to not get in anyones way. You kept a low profile and kept your guard up just in case. You come across a casino, an abandoned one at that. You go inside and look at yourself in one of the broken mirrors on the floor. You had poker card symbols under your eyes and on your fingers. Your eyes widen at the sight, you were still wearing the same thing from last night it’s just that you have a big X on your chest. “That motherfucker killed me.” You say in disbelief, anger slowly bubbling up in you.

That day you went on a rampage. Finding an abandoned angelic spear somewhere in the bar and went fucking nuts. You swore you killed at least a good 250 demons and you kinda discovered some powers. “Cool.” You said and smirked. People had been recording you and posting about you online, calling you the “Soul gambler”, whatever that means. You slowly learned you killed 2 overlords during your little rampage and they weren’t even some random overlords, they were “heavy hitters” as people liked to call them. People started to fear you, making out the events that happened into something 10x worse. People didn’t bother looking your way anymore, wanting to light themselves on fire rather than to look at you.

You renewed the casinos around hell and gained massive amount of territory. People would visit the casinos frequently, it sort of reminded you of the casino from back when you were alive. Many people applied for the job since almost all of the jobs were taken because of hells overpopulation problem. Some old workers that worked at the casino before you renewed them and claimed them as your own started coming in, you hiring them of course since they had experience. You quickly learned there was an Overlord similar to you a few years ago. Unfortunately he lost his power and you learned from a commercial that he is now working at a hotel, Hazbin Hotel to be exact.

You decided to go and visit the hotel one day, wanting to have a chat with the old Overlord. You make yourself look presentable, wanting to look your best since you have a reputation to uphold. You walk to the hotel, people walking by screaming or just run into near by building, “Charming.” You think sarcastically and keep walking to the hotel.

You get to the hotel and look up at it, taking in its looks. It didn’t look half bad but it could use some renovation. You walk up the hill and brush yourself off one last time and knock on the big doors. There was silence for a few minutes then you heard commotion and a quiet “coming” from behind the closed doors. You wait patiently and hear the door open, seeing the one and only princess of hell. You go to speak but the door shuts right in your face; “Well that was.. something?” You think to yourself raising a brow in the process. The door opens once again, but this time by the radio demon himself, a fellow Overlord you quite liked. He didn’t try bothering you at all since you arrived in hell a few years ago and you appreciated that. “Salutations dear! It’s a pleasure finally meeting you! Quite a pleasure! Come on now, don’t just stand there. Come in!” He says stepping aside to let you in. You smile softly at him and thank him, walking into the lobby of the hotel when you suddenly stop dead in your tracks because a spear is suddenly pointed in your face. You smile, summoning your own spear and point it to the girls neck; “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’m not an Overlord for nothing.” The girl mumbles something in spanish and walks away, putting her spear away. You sigh and look at the princess of hell. “Well if you guys finished trying to assassinate me, let me introduce myself.” You say and look at everyone’s expressions. You smirk and continue; “My name is Y/N, maybe you know me by “Soul gambler” ,I mean uh whatever that means.” You shrug and hear a slight chuckle from Alastor and a pink spider demon, you believe his name was Angel Dust, a porn star from Valentinos studio. Poor guy was probably tricked into signing a contract with him.

“Well, I came here to ask about an Overlord that was similair to me. He owned the casinos I now own and I heard he was residing here now?” You say calmly, hoping you can to the right place. You hear slight radio static increase but choose to ignore it. Charlie shrugs, saying she doesn’t know of any Overlord being here other than Alastor, but that she hopes you will stay for a bit to see what the hotel is like. You nod in agreement and walk to the spider fellow since he was the only one that looked approachable. You talk for a bit when he suddenly says; “So um I kinda know something about the Overlord you’re looking for.” He says grabbing your full attention.

“The Overlord you’re talking about, it’s that bartender over there. You can try talking to him but I won’t guarantee that he won’t push you away.” He says lowering his tone and grabs you back the shoulder to bring you closer. You nod looking over to the bar where a grumpy cat demon sat, drinking some cheap booze. Angel pushes you towards him, giving you a thumbs up before walking away. You glare slightly but take a deep breath and walk towards the bar. His ears perk up at the sudden footsteps and looks your way, sending you slight glare; “If you’re here to make deals with me you can turn right back around and leave me the hell alone.” He says in an annoyed tone and turns around, his back facing you. You look at him and glare slightly; “What is it with you people and interrupting me all of the time? Like jeez let me fucking speak!” You say rolling your eyes and continue; “I don’t know what shit you hears about me but I can assure you that I didn’t come here to make a deal with you. I just want to talk.” You say sighing, hoping for an answer from the cat demon.

“Whatever let’s just get this over with, what is it?” He says rolling his eyes. You look around and say in a hushed tone; “Do you happen to know anything about the old Overlord that used to own the casinos I own now?” You say and hope you get the truth out of the grumpy ass cat. He looks back at you and curses Angel under his breath, an angered look on his face; “Cut the shit I know you know it was me. What do you want?” He says going closer to the counter where you were sitting opposite to him. You sigh; “I don’t want to cause any harm, really just a friendly chat. Share experiences you know? Since we’re both kind of similar..?” He looks back at you in disbelief and contemplates what to say. He sighs and pulls out two shot glasses, pouring you one and nods for you to continue. “Sooo..” “Husk. The name is Husk.” You smile, asking away and share your experience as on overlord with him. He asks some questions himself, wondering how the casino is doing or if anyone decided to come back there to work. You chat for the rest of the day, others looking at you in awe as they’ve never seen Husk open up to anyone.

After a while you get a bit drunk, talking the poor cat’s ear off. He smiles, listening to your stories, commenting on them here and there. After a bit you decide you had enough for the day and that you should get home. Charlie quickly offered you a room for the night, free of charge so you gladly accepted. “Husk go ahead and show them to their room please? I have something important to do!” Charlie yells before running off to who knows where.

Husk sighs but links your arms and walks you to your room. “Don’t forget to drink some water.. You know so you don’t throw up in the morning.” He says and walks off to his own room. You look at his figure disappearing in the dark of the hallway and enter your room. It was spacious and really nice for a hotel in hell.

You lay down in the bed, kicking your shoes off and hum in satisfaction, falling asleep just after a few seconds of resting on the comfortable bed. The next day you wake up, a slight headache but nothing pain killers couldn’t fix. You stretch and go to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and take a quick shower. You saw a new pair of clothes in the bathroom and a little note left by Charlie. You smile and take the clothes, putting them on. It wasn’t anything fancy but you liked it. You put on your shoes and fold your dirty clothes neatly on the bed and decide to head down to the lobby. It was around 9:30 ish when you went out so you hoped someone was awake. You head down and to your surprise see that everyone is awake. “Good morning sleepy head! You sure slept for quite some time!” Alastor chirped and grins at you, waving for you to come over.

You sit down next to Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie making breakfast. “So I saw you talking to Husk last night~” He smirks slightly. You roll your eyes knowing Alastor and Rosie like to gossip, usually during the meeting Carmilla holds once in a while. “Yeah? It was just a friendly chat. Sinner to sinner.” You shrug and sip on the coffe Charlie brought with the breakfast. Alastor raises a brow but shrugs and walks off.

You see the car demon from afar. Already sitting at the counter and drinking booze. You smirk and walk over with your coffee in hand and sit down at the bar; “Ain’t it a bit too soon for you to be drinking?” You tease and eye him and the booze in his hand. He chuckles lowly and smirks; “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic darling, it’s just the way it is.” He says and shrugs his shoulders, taking another swing of his booze. “Sleep well? You seemed pretty drunk last night.” He says and eyes your figure. You smile and say; “I’m fine, I handle my alcohol pretty well just a slight headache.” You take the last sip of your coffee and place the mug down.

You look at Husk who seems to be thinking about something before he suddenly speak up; “Maybe we could repeat last night another time? Maybe you could show me what you did with my poor casino?” He teases and smirks. You fake gasp and hold your chest where your sadly dead heart is. “Oh I would bet my soul that my version of the casino is so much better than yours was.”

“We’ll see about that Doll~”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #overlord!husk #overlord husk #overlord #overlords #alastor hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin charlie #husker x you #husk x reader #gn reader #reader insert #husk x y/n

[mimicha-arts]

I have not written fandom theories for a long time, but LInkClick fuels my interest and search for meaning too much. Recently, I reviewed all the available series, and came across details that I had not connected before. For the most part, this post is speculations about Cheng Xiaoshi, as well as ... timeline.

Spoilers! Please be careful.

Considering so many details about Cheng Xiaoshi, it seems that there has always been something strange about his "symbolism". In fact, I'm really into the theory that the moment in episode 1 of season 2 (when Lu Guang gets stabbed) is the vision & flashback of the past about Cheng Xiaoshi's death. In fact, it amazes and delights me how many details in OverThink support these thoughts. At least because once a frame flashes, which somewhat resembles a scene from Lu Guang's flashbacks.

But there is more. We have 3 main points: clock, сlockwork and camera. 1. Clock - possible time of death Very specific time appear several times. The clock hands look very strange, still not 6, so probably the time is 5:20 (thus, given the symbolism of 520, I have even more questions). They show the same time in any frame.

But the most interesting thing is that at the very end, when we see Cheng Xiaoshi (with the design from the first season), for a few seconds, in addition to the patterns of gears, a very faded inverted dial of this clock appears on him, where inverted 4 is the most visible part. No need to say that 4 is a symbol of death.

This can only be seen in 1s1s ED. Because, in fact, there are 2 versions of the ED, and it's different (without these details) for the remaining 10 episodes.

Even the very first intro with characters contains very similar clock placed in the background of Cheng Xiaoshi. So, at this point, I'm guessing that this strange 5:20 was the key node and the death of Cheng Xiaoshi.

2. Clockwork - сhanging a key event Gears are shown both literally and in pattern. For a long time, I thought that Lu Guang's shadow was just a shadow, or an indistinct noise, but if you look closely, it becomes obvious that Lu Guang is covering a pattern of gears - probably as a sign of changes with clock mechanism and time. Details such as water drops and film strips are also interesting, as both OP (Dive Back in Time and Vortex) connect these elements to Cheng Xiaoshi.

One of the moments shows how the silhouette of hands (overlapping the trees, which may coincide with the background of the forest in the vision in s2s1) touches the inverted clock, after which the second hand of the clock begins to move back.

And the most beautiful thing .. The fact that the hands belong to Lu Guang, as well as the context of this action, confirms that the animation literally coincides with the scene from the end of 4th (and the beginning of 5th) episodes, when Lu Guang explains to Cheng Xiaoshi how key events (nodes) and changes in the past work. But inverted. What a coincidence, right?

Honestly, I think that all these details can further support the theories about Lu Guang, which already have enough speculation. Given all the hints, it is possible that due to Cheng Xiaoshi's death, he changed something in time, thus erasing the "future in that present" and created a new present as an alternate reality. Just a thought.

3. Camera - another timeline Let's go back to the very end again. Here Cheng Xiaoshi is holding a camera in his hands.

Remember this diamond-shaped mark. This camera is very specific, as it has appeared several times, but not in the main series (yet). There is an easter egg in the mini-series, Lu Guang has a rather similar model, only with a round (clock-like) mark.

It's importance becomes even more obvious, especially now that we have a poster for the second season.

So. What's wrong with this camera? Because there are actually two of them. The one on the table has a rounded clock mark. But the camera in reflection is the one that Cheng Xiaoshi holds in the ED, with a diamond mark.

For me... Seems like it is probably one of the main connecting elements or "anchor" between the timelines / alternate realities, at least conveys this idea. All this makes me feel excited and inspired, how it was possible to place all this so neatly. And which of these can really confirm conjectures and theories … Thanks to the scriptwriters and animators, it's nice to be a part of this game.

Or maybe I'm just overthinking… Anyway, thanks for reading to the end. Perhaps someone has their own thoughts, feel free to discuss ~

#link click #link click s2 #shiguang dailiren #shiguang #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #link click spoilers #i'm about to lose my mind

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your track record with trying to survive is a checkered one. This is a red spot among the black and white.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, forced murder? Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.0k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Chapter 66: Go for the Throat

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner. 

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; this one is white with red splotch on the cheeks, not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. Like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is black and a generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. Hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things. Rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet, you take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away- before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill, it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill, emotionless and analytic. it being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it perfectly or cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Only now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweet worship. How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, you know how to use it. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps light as a butterfly’s wings. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

Coming Saturday February 3rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

#bts fanfic #bts mafia au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts werewolf fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #omega! reader #bts a/b/o au #bts a/b/o #bts gang au #bts au #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg

[hxltic]

i had no idea this was sent in so this could be super late but hi ofc!! Also tysm i love you <33 also i’m sorry i didn’t know how rough you wanted it👩🏾‍🦯👩🏾‍🦯

𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒. 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑨 𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑹Ō

part one | part two

Genre: smut

Warning: heavy degradation, handjob, blowjob, facefuck, public bathroom sex, spit kink, brother’s best friend

He’s one of your brother’s dumb friends (the actual dumbest—in your opinion), and no matter how much you locked yourself in your room to be excluded from whatever activities prolonged out there, the inevitable feeling of hunger is sadly inescapable.

Following a creak from your door, right before another from the stairs, you cascaded down into the living room. Openly, the kitchen stood nice and bright, accompanied by snacks aligned on the island that held several filled lanyards with attached keys.

Arriving down the stairs in your red pajama set was the same thing as yelling and notifying everyone you were there. Heads turned. You didn’t take the time to count, frankly because it felt like crawling into the lion’s den and now needing an escape. You should’ve known there were people coming by the way everything was taken out of the pantry and neatly placed anyway. Your hair was frazzled from rolling around trying to get comfortable; your reddened face was visual proof of the relentless makeup you scrubbed off; the several necklaces you wore and forgot to remove were now entangled in each other—it would be just your luck for a bunch of boys to be over. Not ones you were trying to impress, persay, but the last ones that needed to see you in your tired hobo fit.

“Whatever you’re about to say—don’t. don’t be a dickhead,” you call out. You were getting this snack and going back upstairs, negating anything that could be said to you from here and then with your course voice.

“You think so horribly of me, what’d I do?”

Suna’s sly tone carried across the room to bring you to a stop. It was obvious was him; when was it ever not him? The only other people were Kita and the twins, but they were preoccupied.

“Exist, essentially,” you rebut, and after selecting a bag of skittles and a cosmic brownie, you reach over and grab the keys farthest to the left before your leave; staring him dead in the low, mustard, dumb eyes.

The keys were his. You recall because a few years back, you plucked off a single tag or attachment every time he came over. It took a bit for him to notice how weightless it had become and demand for all of them back, so you made him beg after assigning him as your personal chef for the day.

Which you weren’t a horrible person, so you kept them tucked away in a box on your dresser.

He examined the action to be reminded of this, but let you go nonetheless. He’d be damned if he let you see his smugness falter.

“Your hair looks great,” he taunted, with his long arms spread across the couch lazily. Your brother giggled from afar. To the back of your head, slim eyes scanned you in a judgmental manner—the same one you usually glanced at him with. The steps you took became bouncy and joyous.

Then you remembered how your hair actually looked, so you trudged up the stairs and grumbled, “jump off a cliff.”

You hadn’t completely decided what you’d do with the keys, but you’d most likely hold them hostage in your room somewhere. The plan was just to be a minor inconvenience.

And this was effective for the moment being—rattling Suna with the flashbacks—but sleep weighed your eyelids and, obviously, the door was locked.

. .

3:48 A.M.

A continuous knock drives you out of your slumber. Grumbling, your sleeping feet swing over the side of the bed and you rip the comforter from your body. The pitter-patter of steps notify the dark-haired man of his disturbances, guiding one side of his lip to lift and his toned arms to cross as he patiently awaits you.

Your tongue swipes at your dehydrated lips and your fingers correct your messy braided hair before opening the door. Suna languidly leans on the parallel hallway wall, sending you a look that it is too damn early in the morning to acknowledge. With the little strength in your freshly awaken arm, you throw the door closed to turn your back and close your eyes for the journey back to bed.

Suna’s sneaker sat where the door should’ve connected to the wall. He already knew the best of your unkind tendencies. The corner of the door swept into his large hand following its ricochet and he pulled you by the forearm, twisting your body to him. Your face slammed into his chest due to your lack of stabilization. You got a whiff of his faint cologne.

He didn’t even apologize. Fuckface.

“Jesus. No need to be so rough,” you croaked.

“It can get a lot worse than that,” a genuine smiley grin spread onto his features as he tilted his head and inspected down the hall for anyone that could hear him. Of course you hadn’t caught this in your state, not even processing the implied indecencies. “Maybe you shouldn’t close the door on me.”

He pressed the pad of his finger to your forehead and presses you back off him.

“Why are you here? Like for real.” Nothing was funny and you need to go to sleep. You have work in the morning. If you were awake enough, you would’ve taken the forehead poke as disrespect.

He treads the hand not on the door through his dark hair (which somehow returned to the exact same position it held before) and shrugged, “I can’t get home.”

“So?”

“You have my keys.”

Oh shit. You did bring this upon yourself though.

You sigh and rub the side of your face drowsily, “I’ll get them in the morning. I literally don’t even remember where I put them to be honest.”

As bad as he wants to be irritated, he can’t. The silhouette of your figure in front of him was something else. This was the day that he learned you don’t wear bottoms to sleep, but wear them just to keep some dignity whenever you show your face downstairs. In other words, you only put them on to eventually come back into your natural habitat and kick them off.

Your half naked body stood swaying in the doorway, reflecting into Suna’s yellowish eyes. Had he forgotten to respond? His gaze flickers before focusing strictly on yours. “Let me come look.”

“No, I’ll get them in the morning.”

“I’m coming in.”

Not very carefully, he shuffles past you, then your bed, unaffected by your futile efforts to groan and push him away. He had a sleeper build, unfortunately. As he rummaged through your drawers, he comments, “This would be a lot easier on the both of us if you just told me where they were.”

“Never. Get out! I just cleaned up!” You whisper yell into the morning. It seemed to be a sight you could only watch with the weight difference, but you had to try. Your fingertips connect around his small waist so you could push backwards off your heels. Whatever you could muster has done nothing but prove your weakness to him; he continued side-stepping drawer to drawer and smirking at your actions. That stupid expression only made your blood boil. You retreat.

Inevitably, he found your underwear drawer. Nobody wishes for that on themselves, although the way he held aside one of your thongs on a single finger as if it were a hanger, just to re-fold it before neatly placing it back where it once was; even the darkness couldn’t hide your tightening chest and darting eyes trailing everywhere but him.

The crickets were wide awake, and now so were you.

Your spread fingers modify into fists, you plant your feet. You come back full force to grab him. His head dips back in pure laughter while he attempts to be mindful of the time of night, even when his fair hands creep to yours and slowly pry you away from how you were linked around his stomach. Finger after finger.

The carpet floor, however, was not on your side, and your heels suddenly slide under you, between his feet. It also didn’t help that with Suna’s build there wasn’t much to grab onto: his torso is smooth, slim, but hard. Anytime you reached for grip, you just felt the curve of his muscles under the dark blue cotton t-shirt.

The last finger came undone, and you hadn’t realized why he’d swiftly attached himself to your wrists until you immediately saw yourself tumbling backwards, landing with a hard thump loud enough to wake up everybody in the house. The tightness of his grip confuzzled you.

It was one of protection and instinct rather than anything else. He didn’t seem concerned (as foretold by the small hints of laughter emitting from somewhere upwards), so you wondered why he still held your wrists with his arms backwards and you flat on your ass. He gathers himself, lets go, and turns to face you.

Trying to soothe the pounding muscles, you roll on your right and rub the area cautiously. It was most likely redder than your cheeks.

“You know, to be holding me so tight, you didn’t really lessen the fall,” you scowl.

“No, but you also didn’t crack your head open,” he retorts. You just glance at him and that villainous expression once more, one that was plastered on his tilting head in fake pity. You grunt and roll your eyes.

After declining help from your literal downfall, you push off your right hand to get up. Your nose meets a structure. Wood.

It was the wooden footing of your bed, so close that had your head tilted back any further with the force of the fall—it would be a concussion, no doubt.

You pause and return your focus to him. He smirks down at you.

. .

The next dull morning, you groan obnoxiously as you walk in so the shirtless man currently in your kitchen would take the hint and leave. His keys landed with a mix of a thump and a clink on the soft couch from your toss. He curls the island corner holding a bowl of cereal, sweats hanging loose on his hips; however, he just leans and eats, watching your moves silently.

Your uniform was definitely one to strike a customer: leather shorts and short sleeve top perfect for showing off cleavage. You slipped a jacket on and headed out the door. Before you left, it was necessary to shout “When I get back, you better be gone!”

He just rolled his eyes. You weren’t there to watch it, but you knew.

. .

“Of course, I’ll get that right out for you,” you shoot the fakest smile to the middle-aged man leaning probably too close just to be giving an order. Your sneakers spin on the hardwood floors of the food bar and your hand slips the ticket order into the side pocket of your waitress pouch. Audiences of whatever sport on the tvs and bellowing men ring through your ears until you get called by a coworker of yours. The day had been long, and quite frankly, you were just tired and couldn’t give a damn what she had to say.

“Hey, can you take over that table for me?” Dammit.

She curves her soft hands over one of yours she harshly tugged from your side. With pleading eyes so heavy it looked as if she would cry, she continues, “But I also would like you to give this to one of them. The one with the dark hair.”

She retrieves a small, crumpled paper from her unbuckled pouch lying folded on the waitress stand. You peek at it as she forces it into your hand. You glance at her again.

“A lot of people have dark hair, which is it?”

Her head shakes frantically in reassurance, “You’ll just know. Table 17, corner booth. Just please slip it in the check or something like that.”

An unintentional sigh hinting at your annoyance hangs in the air, but it isn’t like you can stop her from leaving, whether you were just about to clock out or not. Apology is displayed on her face nonetheless, so you grant a soft smile and make your way there after her continuous stream of thank you’s.

You wish you hadn’t.

You walk up to the booth occupied by faces that couldn’t get any more familiar, one being the someone you couldn’t stand, the other that was even more intolerable, and Aran. You liked Aran. He was cool.

Suna has nothing but innocent deceit on his face. After looking around for any employees, or rather managers, you drop next to him on the left side.

“What are you doing here!?” You mainly scolded him, but you looked around at the other two as well. Once again, not really Aran; he was never informed of your workplace and it was most likely your brother’s idea.

“We just came to eat. Yknow, like regular customers.” Your head snapped to your own blood, feeding into the torment of what you were experiencing right now. Was this what bullying felt like?

“Now you can eat with us though, it’s the end of your shift anyway.” Suna adds. That wasn’t the case due to circumstances. As long as you have this uniform on and as long as they were a table in the restaurant with no waitress, you weren’t off duty.

“That’s not how that works.”

“Sit here for a bit. Customer’s request.” The ravenette mouths. You doubt that would work either because interaction with customers were limited. Honestly, with how you were dressed, you loved the rule. Suna’s back lifts when his arms reach out around you, creating as much space as possible to remove his jacket. The man lays it out over your lap, covering the pouch and any signification you were on duty with the exception of the shirt, but you leave and walk in with it on so it didn’t matter.

All things aside, you give in, everything goes well. Catching up with Aran was a joy. Ascertaining that Suna took a shower in your home, just to put on another pair of sweats your brother leant him and the same t-shirt he’d just washed overnight, he did not listen to you and did not leave. You wonder if he ran through your room again just for fun.

You ignored the other two most of the time. Having to see your brother every day; there was no reason to converse with him, but the other took this personally. Extremely personal.

He kept doing things to get your attention. When the person taking your shift came as waiter, he ordered for you just as the words began to spill from your mouth. Only having four people in a wall booth, he had more than enough room to manspread—so he left you nothing but a sliver of space. You tried to scoot him over manually, but of course, it didn’t work. You place both hands on his thigh in an attempt once more.

Having not learned your lesson previously, you’re going to try again. Your fingernails dig into his skin so it would hurt (but he didn’t flinch); you push with all your might and he continued casual conversation. Shoving again, you watch as his eyes flicker in shock, frantically glance to you, and revert as if nothing happened, even though a stern hand held the top of your left still. He fake laughs it off to the rest of the table. So fake, you hadn’t realized it was.

A large, pale hand squeezes yours in its spot, prohibiting movement. Was he ticklish? You force your hand back and forth against his thigh, your hands being unable to lift but having no choice but to move with his flesh, and he squeezes even harder. This hand was closest to his torso, located on the inside of the very top thigh area. So high it was basically his hip.

You hadn’t realized your nails curled right into his groin. Unaware of what was actually happening, you continued for the sole reason it was bothering him in some type of way, resulting in warning looks being shot to you with his tired eyes. Ones you ignored. It hurt because of the coffin shape, Suna had to admit, but it didn’t deflect the blood rushing there.

Finally, his leg closed, but he took a tight hold of your guilty hand and pulled you roughly. He mumbles sternly with his mouth to your ear, “Sit still, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You just laughed in his face and put both hands to your chin, elbows stationed on the rectangular table. You’d do it again when he wasn’t looking.

He’d caught you less than halfway there the second time, but third is the charm. His guard was let down.

The air was thin and light with loose conversation. Aran’s sister was fine and your brother was thinking of applying for another scholarship. When everything seemed to have died down, french tips clanked against the counter impatiently and your left hand dove under the table once more.

In your peripheral the male visibly stuttered, hips lifting for adjustment and eyes darting to you nervously. This time they hadn’t left and it took everything in you not to acknowledge the mustard gaze. To make it worse, the squeeze of your hand allowed an audible grunt to fall from his lips. His eyes fell as well so your friends noticed, questioned it, but the false voice you’ve fabricated over years of customer service was just too believable.

You squeeze again, the muscle unknowingly growing under your hand. He became fidgety and his breath slightly irregular. Turning your head to glance at him, he locates your eyes immediately—the eyes usually low and apathetic—were yelling to stop. A mischievous giggle worsens the situation, causing his eyes to slim down angrily. He’d prove to you why.

He takes a hold of your wrist and stretches your fingers using his own, sliding them between. He adjusts in his seat again before flattening your hand around his print, using his other hand to cover his mouth casually as he leaned forward on the table. His digits wrap around yours, causing you to wrap around him.

He gave you a preview. With no underwear to hide any inch of it under the fabric, you (he) basically caressed from the base all the way to the tip, the outline becoming more prominent and his body shifting under your touch. You look at him in disbelief at: what he did, what you unconsciously did, or in all his, what—a solid 8 inches at least? If you had to guess?

The idea was to scare you off, but it did quite the opposite. Whenever your hand was released, much to his surprise, it just returned with the same motion tenfold. Luckily, nobody else could hear the sudden deep groan over the laughing people, and the way his back landed with a puff on the soft booth seat only looked somewhat out of the norm. His face was flooding cherry red no matter how bad he didn’t want it to. Both his hands came up to run over his eyes, forehead, and cheeks. Now he braces himself on the seat, gazing down at the sight of your pretty fingers and nails dragging up and down the entirety of him through his pants. The friction was indescribable.

He held watch as you dipped past them.

You knew you’d do anything to get under his skin, but not like this. Of course people found Suna attractive, light athletic build with killer thighs and small eyes, only to be complimented by his dark brown locks and good style (when he cared). So when Nali passed the note to you to give to someone, you could assume it was her number. It’s somewhere lost on the table now. Primarily because if something did happen, coming downstairs to more than two people you can’t stand would send you over the edge and he doesn’t need anyone boosting his ego more than it already is.

But now as you’re stroking him slowly, only the movement of cloth from your hand’s action could describe what was going on. Apart from the man’s darkening gaze too. He was beaming fire into your neck, just as you were chatting away.

“Are you okay?” Your brother is worried for his friend who was flashing a sickly face hinted with anger. The plump of your lip met white teeth, a reddened spot building up as you tried your best to prevent any unwanted facial expression or laughter. Aran became intrigued as well.

Sunarin comes forward to statue both elbows on the table, but without saying a word. Consequently, the question hung low in the air, creating palpable tension at the silence and his direct, unmoving eyes. You ignore it.

Instead, you ring two fingers and ride over the heightened band right where the tip begins. You tighten your hand. Your fingers close around it and meet at the peak, collecting pre-cum and the last of Suna’s patience. The job is done and your hand retreats.

“Yeah.” Breathlessly but barely noticeable, he continues, “Your sister’s just a pain in the ass.”

You dramatically gasp and keep the façade going, just to eventually let him out as per his request for the bathroom. The two boys laugh over their food as Aran receives almost every bad deed you’ve done to his former teammate, just giving him an idea on how you two operate, though you announce your leave to completely end shift and take the pouch off. Once you reach the back and remove any resemblance of your relationship to the restaurant, you reach the one person bathroom. It was a fairly good size.

“Hello? Sunarin?”

©️hxltic

#haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu smut #god i want him so bad #haikyuu suna #suna haikyuu #suna x you #suna rintaro #suna x reader #rintarou suna #hq suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna headcanons #suna rintarō #suna smut #suna rintaro fic #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x you #rintarou x reader #suna rintaro oneshot #suna rintaro headcanons #suna x y/n #no use of y/n #suna imagines

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 3 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, implied smut, multiple pov changes, we got Hoseok's POV too!! mentions of alcohol consumption, a flashback, palpable tension between Hoseok and reader.

Word count: 4.7k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: The chapter starts with Hoseok's POV. JK's POV is added to the very end of the story. Sorry for the delay. I really struggled with this chapter. But I hope you guys like it. Please share your thoughts, I'd love to talk to you about it. and even if you are only reading the story, I still love you regardless.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

“It’s so big, dad! It’s so big” the astonishment in Sua’s voice fills Hoseok’ heart with adoration. How come he has given birth and raised such an adorable human being! 

Even if ten years ago somebody had told him that he would be raising a daughter alone with very little to no help, he would have laughed at their faces. But now, he can’t even think of a time when Sua wouldn’t be with him to brighten up his day, his life, his entire existence.

“Sua, let’s get into the queue! Fast!” your voice cuts through the thin chill of the air. 

Hoseok’s eyes land on your figure and he finds you as beautiful as ever, if not more. He has come across countless women in his life but there are very few who have left any impact on him. 

You are definitely one of them. 

He knew you had to be special from the moment he witnessed Namjoon apparently struggling to shut his mouth while praising you and your capabilities. Hoseok knows his childhood friend too well and he knows that the man is not someone to be impressed easily. Hence, you had to be really compatible. 

But he definitely didn’t expect you to be so attractive. 

The moment his eyes met yours, he knew it was going to be hard for him to maintain this doctor-client relationship with you. And he was right. Things are getting even harder because he has to see you in your casual (and pretty) clothing, smiling and laughing with his daughter, and being equally excited about getting in the giant merry-go-round. 

One of the very few things that he learnt about you includes the fact that you don’t need a ton of makeup or extravagant dresses to look bold and beautiful. When he saw you at the clinic for the first time, you were wearing a formal blouse and dress pants and yet you looked effortlessly attractive. During both of the outdoor therapy sessions, you chose to wear jeans and tops. And again Hoseok is finding it hard to divert his eyes from you. 

On top of that, seeing you and Sua blending and bonding so well, makes him wish for forbidden things that are both too unethical and early for him to wish. 

“Daddy! Are you coming or not?” Sua shouts from a distance and that’s when Hoseok realizes that he has been far too lost in his thoughts, or more like, his thoughts of you. 

He walked fast towards the steps where you and Sua are standing, the same steps lead you into the small cabin of the giant merry-go-round. 

Sua’s shoes clink against the metal floor of the small cabin making both of you and Hoseok laugh at her excitement. She settles at one side of the cabin and gestures to both of you to come inside. 

Just as Hoseok is about to step inside, you hold his arm with your small palm. Something warm floods inside Hoseok and he finds this simple, insignificant act way too intimate. He eyes the place where your hand is touching him and then looks into your eyes. 

God! Your eyes are so beautiful, probably the most beautiful pair of eyes he has ever seen. He feels heat creeping up his neck. 

“You may hear things that will break your heart or unsettle you but I would appreciate it if you could keep your cool and refrain from reacting much.” your voice is low enough to make sure Sua doesn’t hear you. Hoseok understands and nods as you two finally settle inside the cabin. You sit beside Sua while he sits in the opposite direction. 

The cabin is almost midair when Hoseok sees your body going rigid, your face losing colors and your eyes shutting on their own accord. On the other hand, Sua seems to be enjoying the view much more than what is expected from a seven year old.  

It doesn’t take anyone a second guess to make out that you are acrophobic. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Hoseok voices out of concern, reaching for your hands in the process. You nod to assure your well-being. 

Sua whips her head and turns to take a look at you. 

“Y/N! Are you afraid of merry-go-rounds?” Sua grips your fingers with her small hands. Hoseok takes his approaching hands back under his custody. 

You laugh a little, even though your face says you are two seconds away from throwing up. 

“Not exactly merry-go-round, Sua. But I am afraid of heights.” You reply through your gritted teeth. 

“Oh? Is that a thing?” Sua questions. Hoseok sits back and observes the conversation. He realizes you are about to make it about Sua very soon. 

“Yes. Fear of heights is called Acrophobia. But it was a secret! Now you know one of my biggest secrets, Sua!” you fake annoyance, all through your nerve-wrecking fear. Hoseok is surely very amazed with you now. 

“Oh no!” Sua giggles. 

“Don’t laugh. In exchange for my secret, you gotta tell me one of your secrets too. Or better tell me what you are afraid of the most? It’s a rule. You can’t back off.” You seem to ease up quite a lot now. 

“What am I afraid of? Do I have to tell you?” Sua questions with a very serious expression. 

“Yes. don’t you think it will be unfair to me if you don’t?” You reason. 

“That is right. But then daddy has to tell us his secret too. He heard you, just like me!” Sua pouts. Hoseok chuckles at his daughter's cute protests. 

“Sure. I don’t have a problem.” he mutters. Eyes drifting to your face, which is focused on Sua. He sighs. You look even more beautiful under the golden hue of the setting sun. You look unreal, almost like a dream. 

“Okay then let's start with Hoseok, shall we?”  You speak with a trembling voice as the giant wheel starts to move again. 

“Yes. yes. Daddy should go first.” Sua chimes in, way too delighted to finally know what scares her father the most. 

“Spiders. I am afraid of spiders the most! God, those little creatures are the bane of my existence.'' As soon as Hoseok’s sentence ends, he hears roars of laughter from both of you and his daughter. 

“I knew it! Daddy hates bugs so much!” Sua breaks into another fit of laughter, you join her soon after.   

Hoseok feels like an achievement, having made you and Sua laugh so loud, it’s certainly an achievement to him. 

“Okay okay! It’s your turn now.” you say while winding a hand around Sua’s little body, tugging her close to you. 

For the first time in the afternoon, Hoseok finds his heart beating erratically because of you. 

“I-” Sua’s face loses the glow in an instant, “I am- I am afraid of dark rooms. Dark rooms are so scary. I hate it! I-I hate it!” She covers her ears with her tiny palms. 

Hoseok’s heart breaks at the sight, just like you had warned him earlier. He tries to reach out for Sua but sees you tugging her close to your chest, patting her back and calming her down before her anxiety excelates any further. 

“Does Jaemin have anything to do with this, Sua?” you approach carefully, patting her back during the entire time. 

Sua doesn’t say anything but she nods in your chest. 

Hoseok’s heart breaks even more. He has been raising Sua providing every possible comfort he could offer. He thought he was successful in keeping his daughter away from all the harms of the world, but he was wrong. Somewhere, out of his knowledge, Sua was being terribly treated. The thought ensues a destructive anger in him, both for whoever Jaemin is and for himself. No matter how much he tried to be a great father, he failed to protect his babygirl and he is totally ashamed of himself. 

When he looks up at you, he finds you smiling at him as if to assure something, as if to say, “hey, it’s alright”. He returns the smile with a heavy heart. 

One thing about Sua is that it’s really easy to divert her mind and cheer her up. 

Only an hour ago she was trembling in your chest, engulfed in fear of dark rooms and that bully. But right now she is smiling widely, totally thrilled to be riding the Camelot Carousel. 

However, the person you are currently worried about is Hoseok. He is not at all doing well. 

“You okay?” Letting your voice sound a little concerned, you ask Hoseok. 

“I don’t know. I feel like I failed my duties as a parent. I couldn’t protect her.” Hoseok sighs. His shoulders rise and fall, making them brush with yours. It somewhat pains you to see him like this, especially when you could tell him for hours how good of a father he is despite all the complexities he had faced.  

“Are you a magician or something?” you reply a little playfully. 

“What?” Hoseok chuckles.

“No, right? Then how can you expect everything to be under your control? You are a human being after all, Hoseok. Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But considering you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.” By the time you finish talking, you find Hoseok facing you. 

Both of you are lost in each others’ eyes. All the chatters, clamoring, noise, the music from the carousel have faded in the background. Silence is buzzing in your ears and your eyes are focusing only on him. 

Hoseok’s hair is not as styled as the other two times you have seen him. It’s more casual and curly today. Some curls fall on his forehead, almost reaching his eyes. His eyes are as dark and intimidating as ever. And if you are not wrong then you find those dropping on your lips momentarily before he is dragging his eyes back to yours again. 

“You are a good psychologist but.. you are a better human being and I hope you know that, Y/N.” Hoseok speaks a little breathlessly. 

“Maybe.. Or maybe not.” You add, finally turning your body towards the carousel again. You don’t look at him anymore. You don’t want him to read the vulnerability in your eyes that formed because he called you a good human being. 

Your mind instantly goes back to Jungkook. You blame him for everything. He is the reason why you are so sensitive, so miserable that your eyes are blurring just because someone called you a good person. 

It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And pathetically Jungkook doesn’t care about the state he has pushed you in. 

“I didn’t get to ask you earlier but are you okay?” Hoseok asks, walking side-by-side with you while carrying Sua piggyback as she is fast asleep. 

You get a little nervous at his question. Did hoseok really see the miserable you through your strong girl facade? 

“Yes. I'm totally fine. Why are you asking though?” you quiz back. 

“You pretty much lost all the color of your face while riding on the giant wheel.” Hoseok chuckles a little. 

“Oh. that!” you chuckle too, “I am fine now.” 

“Do you always do this? I mean, going out of your comfort zone to help your patients?” 

“That’s a part of our job. If we can’t face our fears, we won’t be able to help others.” You sigh a little. 

Hoseok only nods and you two fall in a comfortable silence. 

“It was a great day, and we made good progress. Hope she will open up more to me by the next session. So, see you next friday?” You say as you approach your car. 

“Oh- next friday. Shit! I almost forgot.” Hoseok groans and you find it mindlessly attractive, “I have a very important hearing next Friday. We may have to skip the session.” 

“Skipping a session might not be a wise choice as she finally started to talk. Is there a way to reschedule it?” You shift your weight from one foot to another. 

“I am so sorry but I will be occupied with all the preparations for this whole week. I don’t think I can make it before saturday.” Hoseok pouts a little. 

And good lord! He is so manly yet so cute! You feel like running away again!

“I can work this Saturday if you want.” you propose, knowing exactly what you are doing. 

“Really? I will be so grateful if you do but I don’t want to ruin your weekend.” 

“I don’t have anything special planned anyway. So..” You just hope you don’t sound desperate. 

“Okay. Done! Saturday at the same time? I will text you the venue later on?” Hoseok smiles widely and you feel your heart melting. 

You nod. 

On your way back home, you feel a little guilty about the way you persuaded Hoseok earlier. You practically just used him as an excuse to refrain from going to Jimin’s party. You know Jungkook will be there and you don’t want to see him. You will briefly see Jimin and give him the gift before meeting Hoseok and Sua. 

Work is always one of the most plausible excuses after all. 

There are two thoughts plaguing Hoseok’s mind. 

One, Sua being bullied at school and him being unaware of it all.

Two, You.  

You are doing the unexplainable to him. 

He had many people telling him that he is a great dad, he is doing an exceptional job in raising his daughter almost alone, but all of those words felt hollow and more like a courtesy than like an appreciation. 

However, for the very first time when he felt those words to be genuine, those were coming out of your mouth. 

“Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But thinking you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.”  your words replay in his head. He intakes a sharp breath and sips whiskey from his glass.

Staring at the almost deserted road outside his window, he feels sympathetic for them. Because he knows what it is like to be deserted, to be alone. 

On nights like these, when he is a little unsettled, a little troubled, a little miserable… he seeks warmth of a shelter, a home, a lover. 

Hoseok sighs, closing his eyes he tries to picture a lover and the face he sees throws him off the edge… because it’s you. It’s his daughter’s therapist, somebody he doesn’t even know that well, somebody that is clearly off limits. 

He growls in frustration, slams the glass of liquor hardly on the table in the process.

He should not be feeling like this. He is beyond the age of having innocent crushes. It’s only need, want and lust at this point of his life. And there’s no way you can satiate those. 

So, he does what he could arrange. He takes his phone and dials the number of the person he knows will keep his bed warm at night. 

Saturday rolls around much faster than you would prefer. For once you consider canceling the plan but then you opt for going. 

Jungkook and you had a messy breakup, that’s true, but your common set of friends or acquaintances have nothing to do with it. They are more of Jungkook’s friends than yours anyway. So, you have nothing to lose if they suddenly start blaming you even if it’s your ex-boyfriend who ended the relationship. 

However, you know Jimin would be different. He knows you better than any other friend of Jungkook. And he is the reason why you two met. 

Four years ago, when you were a fresh graduate, broke and desperate. You rented this cheap studio apartment. Jimin was your neighbor living just across the hall. And Jungkook was (and is) his best friend. 

There was nothing romantic about yours and Jungkook’s meeting, rather it was a scene to be remembered. 

It was summer, burning hot. Jimin, being weirdly himself, decided to dive into his very uncomfortable and shallow bathtub. Without a doubt, his decision resulted in him having a bump on the forehead. 

Jimin somehow managed to call Jungkook, who came to his rescue. Who also came knocking on your door in search of ice. That’s the day you met him for the first time, then became friends and in turn, lovers. 

The memory of Jungkook asking you out stings like a fresh wound these days. 

“So I was thinking…” he’d said, eyes zoning out of focus. He had looked at everything else other than you. 

“Hmm?” you had an idea what was this going to be about and you were elated to say the least. You and Jungkook had been flirting with each other for a good time already. A comment here, a touch there, all of it made you feel like you were new. You were in love for the very first time and you realized you have never loved any of your past partners as much as you loved this doe eyed, bunny featured boy. 

You knew your feelings were reciprocated as you were able to read Jungkook and the way he would behave around you. You were waiting for him to be the first one to break the ice and if he proved to be way too shy to do anything, you would come up and take the charge. 

But you didn’t have to do so. Jungkook broke the tension as soon as he heard you needed a partner to join you to your very first networking party. 

“I could be your date to that party you were talking about- I mean- if you want you know?” his mouth latched to the beer can, taking a long sip to avoid your eyes again. 

“Are you only suggesting or are asking me out?” You played with him.

Gulping the beer he opened his mouth to reply but he got tensed as soon as he saw you smiling and staring at him intently, “I am- umm- what I want to say is that-'' he gulped again “it would be nice if I could be your date. I would love to be your date.” 

“And why is that?” you were enjoying teasing him. 

He flushed at your sudden question. You could clearly see the way he was getting more and more nervous with each passing second. 

“I-I don’t know how to say it. Uh- It may feel a bit creepy since we don’t know each other for that long and I am already asking to be your date. But I- I like you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same-” 

You shut him up by capturing his lips with yours in a sudden kiss. 

It took him a moment to process your actions but when he did, he kissed you back with ten times more intensity. He slid his tongue inside your mouth, his hands found their way inside your tank top, he placed you on the top of his lap, pressing his groin to your core deliciously. A pair of tongues danced for dominance, and soon you found yourself writhing under him as he made you cum again and again. 

You come out of your flashback as you absentmindedly touch the heated part of the hair straighter. 

Wow. What a great start to a Saturday, you think to yourself. 

Gladly, we didn’t cry or have a meltdown this time. You smile to yourself, reaching for a band aid. This seems like healing. You are recovering faster than you thought you would, which makes you happy for sure. 

Only if it was an average meeting, you wouldn’t put so much effort on your look. But you gotta meet Jimin first, who is probably already in a party mood, wearing his million dollar worth Dior outfits and Tiffany bracelets. And you don’t want to appear like a homeless kid before him. Moreover, Hoseok decided this week’s venue to be one of the fanciest bakeries of the town. Hence, it’s better if you doll up a bit.   

You look at yourself through the rear view mirror, hoping that you are not overdressed for a therapy session and not undressed to meet your super popular friend. 

Ok, you look presentable. What could possibly go wrong if you turn up to both of your meetings like this. Nothing. 

The signal turns green and you are about to start your car except the fact that it doesn’t. 

You spoke too soon. Obviously! Your car had to break down in the middle of the road like this! It is, certainly, one of the finest Saturday mornings you have ever had.  

If there’s anything positive then you are just two blocks away from Jimin’s house, hence, you won’t have to walk for long in your heels. 

It’s almost 2:45 when you complete calling insurance, handing over your car, and taking care of all the paperworks. There is no way in the world you could meet the Jungs by 3:30, so you decide to shoot Hoseok a quick text while walking towards Jimin’s house. You inform him that you are going to be late by 30 minutes or so as your car broke down earlier. 

And you receive a call from him when you are in the elevator. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” Hoseok’s smooth voice creates a weird session in your ear, which tickles down directly to your heart, warming it up much more than you would like to admit. 

“Ah, yeah. Everything is fine. The car suddenly broke down while I was on the way to a friend’s home. And I am not well-aware of the public transport here. So, it may take some time for me to figure things out and reach the bakery.” keeping your eyes on the elevator door, you speak into your device. 

“Uh- if you don’t mind… I can pick you up.” Hoseok suggests, voice a little small. 

“It’s so kind of you, Hoseok but I don’t want to trouble you.” you reply. It’s safe to say that you would love to accept his kindness but then again, you don’t wanna appear to be a desperate, broken hearted, naive little girl. 

“It won’t be a problem for me, Y/N. Just text me the address? Hm? I am sure Sua would love it too.” This time Hoseok’s voice is even more confident with a hint of authority in it. And you won’t like to turn him down. Agreeing with his proposition you cut the call, and type out the address just then the elevator dings open. 

You haven’t been to Jimin’s place more than a couple of times but it is never hard to find his door, even though each of the condo looks just the same from outside. 

Because Jimin’s door is always decorated as if it’s christmas. And today he even walked an extra mile and placed a full-size catboard cutout of himself with an edited crown on the top of his head and an animated birthday cake on one elevated hand. 

You stifle a laugh while you press on the door bell. 

And when the door opens, it’s not Jimin on the other side.

You are one of the main reasons why Jungkook decided to show up during the afternoon, have lunch with Jimin and then quietly leave before the party starts. His privacy is certainly a concern but not more than running into you. 

But it seems like Life has different plans. 

It’s you, who decided to show up right after 30 minutes of his arrival. 

It’s you, who looks absolutely shattered by seeing him on the other side of the door.

It’s you, who is effortlessly sporting a black and red floral sundress with your slender neck and collarbones on display. 

He stares at you with blown out pupils as you do the same. And suddenly Jungkook realizes that he misses you… or more like, misses seeing your beautiful face. If that makes sense.

“Y/N..” he murmurs under breath and he knows you can’t hear him. 

You gulp and then open your mouth to say something but Jimin cuts you off. 

“Y/N! You are here!” Jimin runs towards you, shoving Jungkook out of the doorway and pulls you inside. “But wait. You are here to tell me you can’t make it to the party, don’t you?” 

Jungkook obverses you intently, zeroing his eyes on you and only you. You give Jimin one of your beautiful smiles and then hold out his gift. 

“Sorry, Jiminie, I have a session today and I am already late for it. But a very very happy birthday to you.” tiptoeing, you reach Jimin's height and place a sweet kiss on his cheek. Jimin hugs you as you hug him back.

The scene irritates Jungkook and he doesn’t understand why. He has always been the jealous type, overprotective and possessive type. He never liked it when guys, even if your common friends, become too cozy with you. But that was in the past. That was when he was yours and you were his. That was when he was still in love with you. So, there is no apparent reason behind his irritation now. 

He tries to move his eyes from you but then his eyes fall on your finger wrapped in a band-aid. Even before he knows what he is doing, he walks towards you, grabs your hand and examines the injury. 

"Did you cut yourself again?" Jungkook investigates, as if he still has any right over you. 

You snatch your hand back from his grip as if his touches burn. 

"No. It's nothing." You reply, avoiding his entire presence. 

Smiling brightly at Jimin, you murmur "I should go now. I'm running behind schedule." 

"But it's Saturday. You don't work on weekends." Jungkook's mouth runs before his mind.

"I'm changing." You finally look at him, your eyes shoot daggers at him. 

"But, Y/N-" Jimin starts to speak only to get cut off mid sentence as your phone starts ringing. 

Jungkook doesn't want to but he can't control himself from peeking at your phone. But before he could make out the caller id, you receive it, “Hello… Oh you are here. Just a minute I am coming.” 

“Jimin, I gotta go. I am sorry and happy birthday.” You rush your parting sentence, as if you don’t want to keep, whoever is here to pick you up, waiting. 

“Y/N, you didn’t even rest your butt!” Jimin protests and you laugh. 

“It’s a special client, Jimin. I don’t have a choice.” you smile apologetically to him. 

The fact that you have smiled so many times already but not a single one was directed towards him. He knows he hasn't done anything to deserve your smiles but he craves for them regardless.

He wants to ask you how are you doing, if you are eating properly or not, if you are sleeping in time or do you still stay up reading books. He wants to ask for forgiveness, to say that he is sorry, to suggest that you move on and stop hurting because of him, but even before he could say a word… you are gone. 

Jimin jogs towards the balcony and he joins just to see who this special client of yours is. 

Never once during your relationship has he seen you working during the weekends, you also never accepted any gifts or lifts from your clients, and there was no reason for doing so since most of your clients are teenagers. 

But earlier you said you were changing, is that why it’s a tall and good looking man who is here to receive you? 

You come in the picture a minute or two later and walk towards your special client. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he guides you to the passenger seat. 

Jungkook can’t make out your facial features from the 5th floor, but he knows you are most definitely smiling. And the knowledge doesn’t sit right with him; rather it sets his senses on fire and that familiar overprotectiveness, possessiveness plague his mind. 

“Oooohhh-” Jimin sings song, “a young, handsome client, who might as well be something more.” 

“No. She is still in love with me.”  Jungkook grits his jaw at the sight of the car leaving, taking away you. 

Taglist:-

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