my valentine - o.piastri
masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: a red lacy Valentineâs Day seems to be just the kind of thing Oscar needsâŚ
warnings: not intended for minors + oral (f receiving) + talks of Valentineâs Day + some errors here or there
a/n: Iâm baaaack! while I know this isnât the part two to the secret Santa thatâll hopefully be here soon Iâm having some trouble writing that rn⌠but please enjoy this!!!
what did men like on Valentineâs Day? was it lace? was it red? or was it just sex? you couldnât decide the answer. while you stood dumbfounded and dripping in nervous sweat inside the Victoria secret, it left you no choice but to leave and hope scrolling on Amazon wouldnât lead to the same amount of panic and overwhelm.
youâd wanted to make Valentineâs Day perfect for Oscar. with all of his training and simulator work heâs been doing this winter break, you figured he deserved something special. you perused store upon store for the ideal lingerie for that special Wednesday night, but came up with nothing.
âyouâre back from the mall awfully early.â Oscar comments hearing his apartment door shut behind you.
âreally? felt like I was there for ages.â you huff out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the couch, âif you were wanting something for Valentineâs Day, what would it be?â you ask staring into his big brown eyes.
a laugh escapes his lips. heâs told you infinite amount of times he wanted nothing for the silly hallmark day. he just wanted a nice meal and some quiet time with you. what more could a man ask for? it was a door you never wanted to open, but you knew there was more to it.
âplease donât buy me anythingââ
âoh no itâs not like that.â you cut him off, the heat returns to your cheeks when he looks over at you with a knowing look. you sink further into the couch cushions hoping to disappear, but his eyes stay glued to your growing redness.
âwell then I guess Iâve always liked the color red on you.â
â
the red lace underneath your pajamas is uncomfortable. youâre unsure how anyone woman could deal with the deep wedge of material up their ass, and the sheer itching against their stomachs, but you figure you can power through. itâs just one nightâ well thatâs unless Oscar decides the 10 dollar red lace bodysuit was to stay permanently.
you hear the lock of your apartment free, and the door swing behind him indicating Oscar and the carry out food had arrived.
âdarling, where are you?â he calls out from the kitchen, and taking no time to wait for you. heâs unpacked the styrofoam containers from the bag, opening his box, he takes in a few bites of food that attempted to spill out the container.
reaching for a napkin to clean up his mess, he quickly glances up to see if youâve made your way in only to stop in his tracks, jaw nearly smack to the floor at the sight of red.
âyou lookââ he doesnât get the chance to begin, thereâs not a word he can find to finish the sentence, because whatever it was he was already feeling against his pants.
moving around the counter, he finds himself in front of you where he can see just how much youâre doing to him with so little. a giggle escapes your lips as you pull his face to yours, âdid you want to eat first?â you ask.
shaking his head he whispers a no, before placing his hands against your hips, finger tips gently trail the red lace up your body, âI want you first.â
itâs not a long walk to your bedroom, but it feels like ages for him. every second he doesnât have his hands on you is a waste, and when he finally does get them, itâs not wasted removing the lace from your body revealing every part of you faster than you expected him to do.
he takes the second to fumble with the condom, his fingers shake with anticipation, itâs almost like the first time youâd done it in your relationship. the nerves got to you both, trying to figure out what worked and didnât, but now, youâd say your pros. knowing the ins and outs of each others bodies, like how he favored your lips around his dick and you liked his fingers inside of you. with time, you learned all of this.
this was a gift on its own, one that had him dripping in precum and aching to get inside you. and when the condom finally was secured, he, once again, didnât waste a second to find your cunt and fuck you.
his hips grind against yours creating warmth between your bodies. his hair falls across his forehead that you can barely see with the blur of pleasure in your eyes.
he doesnât say much. he never does, but he doesnât hesitate to praise you, adore you, and remind you of how lucky he is.
âyouâre so good to me,â heâs saying, transitioning from being inside you, his lips travel across your warm skin all the way down to your hips. his fingers gently nudge your thighs open, and you get the hint, âlet me do this for you, my valentine.â
youâre unsure if it was the kisses, the words, or his warm tongue against your wet folds, but one of them got the air stuck in your throat. thereâs nothing more than you love than the sound of Oscar eating you out. the slurps, the humâ all of it. the sounds were pleasing to your ears, even more so than the action itself you were gripping the sheets.
heâs edging you, playing you. its ridiculous and maybe you deserve it. after all, youâd put the idea of you in red in his head days ago and heâd been unable to concentrate. the patterns of floral dancing across your chest, a low cut neckline, heâd wanted it allâ or none of it if youâd decided that. but you deserved this in some way. youâd been the one to send his dick rock hard any hour or second of the day.
âosc,â the moan comes out more like a pity plea. the chuckle against your pussy sent a chill down your spine and a twirl in your stomach. so you deserved that much, you thought, but this? not letting you come? too much.
âIâm gonna come,â the words spill as does the warmth out of you, his face covered in you wasnât something he could ever be mad about, but not giving him the chance to edge you? youâll be paying for that later.
âI wasnât finished.â he slides a finger inside, barely giving you time to rest and recover, âyou fucked with my mind all week.â he groans at the very sight of you from a couple minutes ago. he wished heâd taken a picture, saved it for later, but he was too antsy. his pants did the thinking more than his head. and thatâs why heâs stuck his finger in your pussy.
he loves the sound of you. moans, groans, whines, whatever it was. he knew you liked the way he rubbed your clit, the way he kept going until he felt the shake of the frame against him, and thatâs when he removed his fingers letting you come.
âwhat a jackass.â you swear closing your legs up and pushing yourself up off the mattress to find your clothes, âdidnât even let me cum on your fingers, like itâs not Valentineâs Dayââ
he shuts you up with a soft kiss, âI think we should eat first before another round.â his words hang in the air as he watches the anger sizzle out of you, âand I want you in that red thing again.â
âanything for you, my valentine.â
tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @leclerc13 @smoothopz @imsorare @lpab @lunnnix @frreyaa
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spoiled- s.r. x fem!reader
warnings: Spencer spoiling his kids def comes back to bite him in the ass
Spencer wanted nothing but the best for his children. Since finding out he had one on the way, he spent weeks hunched over online articles, debating the best car seats, the safest family cars, and the most comfortable strollers. He read everythingâfrom parenting blogs to consumer reportsâuntil his eyes burned and his back ached from sitting for so long. No detail was too small. The color of the car seat, the weight of the strollerâeverything mattered because this was his child.
As Melanie grew, so did his tendency to spoil her. He carried a mini fan around for her in the summer to make sure she was cool enough. In the winter, he always had a stash of hand warmers to stuff in her pockets. He didnât care if people thought it was excessive; heâd do anything to keep her comfortable and happy.
But now, standing in the middle of the mall with his daughter screaming at the top of her lungs, Spencer realized some of that spoiling had been a mistake.
It had started innocently enough. Melanie needed a few long-sleeve shirts for school, and with the temperatures dropping, Spencer thought it would be a nice afternoon outing. Theyâd stopped in the store she loved, all girly pink and frills, the kind of place that lit up her eyes. Heâd let her pick out earrings, scarves, and other trinkets he wasnât sure sheâd need, but the way her face lit up made it worth it.
Then, she saw the tiara. It was glittering under the store lights, solid gold with delicate rhinestones, sitting in a glass case as if it were meant for a real princess. Melanieâs eyes had widened, and she reached out for it like it was the most important thing in the world.
"No, Mel. Not today," Spencer had said gently, kneeling down to her level. "Itâs too expensive, and you donât need another tiara."
But she wasnât having it. Her lip trembled, and before Spencer could even blink, she dropped to the floor, her light-up sneakers kicking out as she let out a blood-curdling scream.
Every head in the store turned toward them, eyes wide. Spencerâs heart hammered in his chest as he tried to calm her down, but Melanie wasnât listening. She was kicking, screaming, and pounding her fists against the floor.
âMelanie, stop it,â he said firmly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck. Other parents passed by, some averting their eyes awkwardly while others gave him knowing, sympathetic looks.
Spencer picked her up, her little body thrashing in his arms as her cries echoed through the mall. He carried her to the parking lot, feeling every pair of eyes on him as he walked, his face flushed with embarrassment. When they reached the car, she fought him again, pushing his hands away when he tried to buckle her into the car seat. Her face was red, tear-streaked, and contorted with anger.
He sighed, stepping back and waiting. He couldnât force her. He had to wait until she calmed down.
After what felt like an eternity, Melanie finally stopped thrashing, her sobs quieting down to soft hiccups. She allowed him to buckle her in, but as he drove home, she kicked at the back of the seat, whining and crying about how they hadnât even gotten the pretzels they always got when they went to the mall.
By the time they got home, Spencer was exhausted. Melanie, far too old to be throwing tantrums like this, stomped into the house, her little fists balled up at her sides.
"Melanie," Spencer said, his voice stern, but not angry. He pulled her little pink chair from her tea set and placed it in the corner of the living room. "Sit here."
Her face dropped, and she looked at him with wide, apologetic eyes, as if she suddenly realized she had gone too far. Normally, he wouldâve caved, let her go about her day with a warning or a talk. But not today. Today, he needed to set a boundary.
Melanie sat down slowly, her tiny toes barely touching the floor. She sniffled, her lip quivering, but she didnât argue. Soft cries escaped her, and Spencerâs heart ached, but he stood firm.
You had heard it all from the other room. When you walked into the living room and saw Melanie sitting in the corner, her head bowed and her small shoulders shaking, you knew something had happened. But instead of going to her first, you went to find Spencer.
He was in your shared bedroom, sitting in the chair near the corner that was often inhabited by a pile of unfolded laundry. His head was in his hands, and his whole body looked tense, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
You knelt in front of him, gently running your hands over his forearms until he looked at you.
âShouldnât you be talking to Melanie?â he asked, his voice quiet and tired.
You chuckled softly and smiled. âI came to talk to my husband, to find out what she did. And why he put himself in time-out.â
A small, exhausted laugh escaped Spencer, and he shook his head, sitting back in the chair. âShe threw the biggest tantrum Iâve seen in years... over a tiara,â he said, rubbing his hands over his face. âI tried to reason with her, but she just... lost it. I had to put her in the corner." His voice lowered. "Iâve never had to do that before.â
You squeezed his hand. âYou did the right thing.â
He looked at you, his eyes filled with guilt and frustration. âI donât know... I feel like Iâve spoiled her so much that this is partly my fault. Sheâs never acted like that before.â
You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. âParenting isnât easy, and sheâs growing up. But setting boundaries is important. Youâre doing great, Spencer.â
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little as he finally let go of some of the tension. âI just hate seeing her like that.â
âI know,â you whispered. âBut sheâll be okay. And so will you.â
After a few minutes of quiet, Spencer stood up from the chair, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion but his mind clearer. He walked back into the living room, where Melanie still sat in the little pink chair, her face flushed and tear-streaked. Her legs swung idly as she sniffled, her fingers picking at the hem of her shirt. When she saw him coming, she straightened up slightly, her big eyes watching him closely.
He knelt down next to her, making sure they were at eye level. Spencer wasnât one to raise his voice or discipline in anger, and he wanted her to know this was about more than just the tantrum. He needed to help her understand.
"Mel, do you know why I asked you to sit here?" he asked gently, his voice soft but steady.
She hesitated, her bottom lip wobbling. "Because... I was bad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Spencer shook his head slowly, reaching out to take one of her tiny hands in his. "No, you werenât bad. But the way you acted at the mallâscreaming and kicking like thatâit wasnât okay. Itâs not how we handle things when we donât get what we want."
Melanie looked down at her shoes, her face flushed with embarrassment. "But I really wanted the tiara," she muttered, a little tremble in her voice.
"I know you did," Spencer said, squeezing her hand gently. "And itâs okay to want things. But sometimes, we canât always have everything we want, especially if itâs something thatâs too expensive or something we donât need right now. I told you no, not because I didnât want you to be happy, but because I thought it was the best decision. That doesnât mean you throw a tantrum when you donât get your way. We can talk about it, but you have to stay calm."
Melanie sniffled again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt. âIâm sorry, Daddy.â
Spencer smiled softly and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "I know you are. And Iâm not mad at you, okay? I love you more than anything in this world. But I need you to understand that acting like that isnât the right way to get what you want."
She nodded, her eyes watery as she looked up at him. "I understand," she whispered. "I wonât do it again."
Spencer nodded, feeling a bit of relief wash over him. "Thatâs all I ask," he said, pulling her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid heâd still be upset. He held her tightly, letting her know that everything was okay now.
When they finally pulled apart, Melanie glanced up at him with wide eyes. "Maybe... we can look at tiaras tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly, her voice small but hopeful.
Spencer chuckled softly, the tension in his chest finally easing. "Maybe," he said, smiling down at her. "Weâll see if we can find something more reasonable, okay?"
Melanie nodded eagerly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Then, with a seriousness far beyond her years, she patted his leg. "But you need some time to calm down first, Daddy," she said, her voice filled with that innocent wisdom only children possess.
Spencer couldnât help but laugh, the sound light and full of affection. "I think you might be right," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. "How about we both calm down together, maybe with some ice cream?"
Melanie grinned, taking his hand as she jumped up from her chair. "I like that idea."
As they walked toward the kitchen, you appeared in the doorway, watching the two of them with a soft smile. Youâd been listening from the hallway, and the tenderness in their exchange made your heart swell. Spencer caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile. The storm had passed, and you knew that, together, youâd figure out the rest.
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â*:.・. MY ANGEL .・.:*â
Summary- Mingyuâs heart always had and always will belong to one girl. No matter how much she pushed and kicked him away he would always come back crawling on his knees gladly, because to him she was his everything.
Word count- 9.8k đđ [say sike rn]
Content Warnings- 18+ Sexual Scenes and Vulgar Language, Angst!, Romance, Some Humor, Hurt and comfort, POV changes, Y/n is a ice queen/tsundere, Implied Foreigner, Mental health, Idol au!She is also apart of Le Sserfim, Nayeon & Mingyu date, other idols appear, Cheating mentioned, Insecurities, Breakups and Makeups, Verbally Abusive Parent, Mingyu begs on his knees, Head over heels inlove with Y/n, Cutting mentioned, Soulmate type beat, Y/n has it rough pls be nice to her, Pet names [PLS BE SAFE AND INCHARGE OF THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME]
A/n BRUH i WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS TO BE SO DAMN Long. I just wanted to write one scene i swear but then i had to make it make sense so then it jus kept getting longer and longer then i got invested oml. Anyways i used to write fics for animeâs but i retired that hat a while back, iâve been inlove with Mingyu since forever so i felt compelled to write a fic about him bc heâs my comfort space :3
â*:.・. .・.:*â
To many people being able to win the affections from Kim Mingyu was seen as a blessing from God and it was - atleast for Nayeon- but as her rose tinted shades slowly began to dissolve around month 3 in their fresh relationship she begrudgingly noticed many things in which she had not before (curse her attentiveness).
Finally getting to proudly proclaim Mingyu as hers within their idol friend circle was a dream come true. And to her he was nothing less than perfect, always attentive to her wants, needs, and desires and constantly showering her with boundless amounts of affection. But even she couldnât fool herself as the new relationship smell began to waft away, and despite her desperate attempts to be as wonderful to him and he was to her one thing became painfully clear; Mingyu was not inlove with her.
Well obviously he didnât hate her, nor did he make her feel less then. Sheâs sure that he had some sort of love for her since they were friends before becoming lovers but it wasnât the kind that would lead to the house and the kids and the big white picket fence she so often dreamt about. It wasnât the kind that she held for him.
In the beginning it was hard to tell, being so blinded by finally being able to be by his side. She had finally gained the courage to confess when he walked her home after an outing with mutual friends, ever the gentleman. Maybe it was the shots of soju at the time or maybe it was time of year where everyone wanted a lover for the winter holidays. She remembered faintly hearing a corny christmas song in the distance, probably from inside a nearby store, and the snow gently pattering on her face as they walked in a comfortable silence.
âI love you,â she whispered meekly seemingly out of nowhere. Her cheeks heated despite the cold weather as she stopped walking, eyes glued to the snowy ground. She worried maybe he didnât hear or thought she meant as a friend but she heard a long exhale of breath from her left as his footsteps also came to their own halt a few paces ahead of her own. It was quiet for a bit, the only sounds being a distant holiday tune and the wind accompanied by snow. She squeezed her eyes shut preparing for the embarrassing rejection she foolishly set her own self up for. Mingyu always treated her well but never treated her more than a friend or different than anyone else and she knew that so why did she have to go and say something so dumb, so stupid! Was it because he offered to walk her home? Well heâs always like that itâs nothing special, ugh what if she ruined-
â⌠Then,â Large feet suddenly appeared right in front of hers jolting her out of her spiral of thoughts and a large warm hand rested on her cheek, gently urging her head up until her eyes met with his.
ââŚAre you busy tomorrow?â He grinned wolfishly with a small tilt of his head.
A few weeks of courting and cute dates led to him casually introducing Nayeon as his girlfriend at a friendâs dinner party, hands held together. It was so sudden but she couldnât help but cheese goofily as he sat her down on his lap before smoothly joining into the rooms conversation. Heâd softly caress her thigh and give her chaste kisses periodically throughout the night. She was happy, very happy in fact, happy and inlove. She finally had what she thought she always wanted and wished she couldâve lived in that bliss for forever but alas life was never that simple nor accommodating.
The first thing she noticed was the zoning out. The times when heâd be aimless staring at some spot in the room completely lost in a daze. It honestly didnât happen too too often, a soft tap of the shoulder would instantly bring him back to her but she noticed it regardless. But one time it happened during a night of passion that often plagued her thoughts more than sheâd like.
Nayeon buried her head further into the pillows as Mingyu rolled his hips languidly into hers. She gasped softly as she angled her head to gaze upon the adonis behind her only to see that far away look in his eyes again.
â Fuuuuck,â He groaned throwing his head back,â Angel - ah sh-shit!â He shook his head as she squeezed him tightly from the endearing new petname [presumably meant for her] kicking him out of his stupor. He took a second to catch his breath, blinking in quick succession before laying his body on top of hers leaving a wet smooch on her shoulder.
â Thatâs newâ She moaned seductively before he drew his hips back to resume his pace from before. All he gave was a breathy laugh and more kisses as he focused on pleasuring her until she couldnât think anymore.
She quite liked that nickname honestly, and the way he said it too âAngelâ. He never called her so desperately before and quite frankly it turned her on so muchâ too bad she never heard it again though. Well not aimed at her.
The second thing she noticed was his chest. Well moreso his heart beat or lack there of? Whenever she was with him her chest would always be a mess of butterflies, hands shaking, breath short and yet when theyâd cuddle on the couch, head pressed to his toned chest there was⌠nothing? Well aside from a very normal beating pattern which gave signs of life of course, he was as cool as a cucumber.
The involuntary signs of love werenât there for him like they were for her despite kissing the ground he walked on. He never struggled to stare her deeply in her eyes, his palms never sweaty when holding hands, kisses- albeit plentiful and wonderful -never starved and desperate. She knew heâd been with many girls before her and that he was use to female attention so maybe those intense signs of love werenât appearing because he had a lot of experience, or atleast thatâs what she told herself to cope until she could no longer.
Nayeon hung out back stage as Twice just finished their performance followed by Seventeen at the MAMA awards. She giggled softly as her members poked fun at her pink cheeks watching Mingyu onstage from the TV in the break room.
Soon after they finished Super the thirteen membered group filed in the break room, mingling amongst the various groups, getting snacks and cooling down. After grabbing a bottle of water Mingyu made his way over greeting Twice along the way before wrapping his arms around Nayeon and snuggling into her.
âEwww youâre so sweatyâ She teased pretending to be grossed out when it was the quite the opposite, the sweat glistening off his caramel skin doing sinful things to her.
âHehe hi baby,â He scrunched his nose as he kissed her cheek playfully.
They bantered back and forth amongst the low chatter in the room watching as the next group went up to perform. She wasn't quite sure when his side of the conversation had quieted down but when she looked to her side he was staring intently at the live broadcasting. She too aimed her attention towards the TV to see what had him so preocuppied.
"Ohhh Le Sserafim?" She nodded knowingly, " They're your label mates now right? They are so popular these days, I'm a big fan too haha my bias is Chaewon!" She danced a little in her seat as the point choreo of Antifragile came up in the performance, " Which one's your fav?"
She leaned her head on his chest, cheerful humming coming to a quaking halt when she felt the thundering pulse of his heart beat blaring against her eardrum.
"... Y\n" he murmured mindlessly, eyes never once leaving the Tv.
" Ohh um yeah!" she sputtered quickly trying to regain her cool, "She's a really popular member, her stage presence is really solid too for only being active for about 2 years i think its been... she's very beautiful, uh she's cool with Jihyo and Somi they hang out sometimes..."
Nayeon wanted to slap herself for the needless word vomit but she couldnt help it. She was pulling for straws, not expecting the reaction she's been trying to pull out of Mingyu to happen now of all times and apparently not because of her. Perhaps he was just tired from his performance still, maybe his was just a big fanboy - men will be men even Mingyu it seemed, perhaps she was reading all too much into it. She decided not to say anything more and just stayed cuddled up to him. He smoothly brought his left hand to her arm rubbing it gently pressing her into himself chuckling softly at her frazzled manner.
" You did well today babe, go ahead and rest for a bit" He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her hairline, " I'll be right here."
Maybe she did need a nap she thought to her self but even as she yawned sleepily she couldn't help but notice the thundering in his heart rested only when their performance finished.
But what really nailed it in the coffin was what Nayeon saw later that night at Somiâs after party, and moreso heard. Itâs one thing to come to the conclusion that the man she loved didnât love back in the same caliber as she did but atleast he chose to be with her right? Atleast he only looked at her and only cared about her. Right?? She could work with that at least even if it was one sided but thereâs another level of pain when the reason his palms donât get sweaty, the reason his eyes donât glaze over in adoration, the reason heâs never said âi love youâ back is because heâs so hopelessly inlove with another that he could hardly contain himself.
The venue was crowded with so many different faces, some known and unknown coming from various groups and companies. Owe it to Somi to know everyone. Nayeon and Mingyu were together as always, a few drinks in watching as Hoshi spoke animatedly making the group of friends laugh. It was a start to a great night after the adrenaline rush of their earlier performances.
âOh wait! Y/nâ Somi suddenly shot up running over to you as you jus entered the venue before dragging you into their circle , âEveryone say hi, Y/n say hi too!â
Nayeon watched as you smiled softly at Somiâs antics before bowing and greeting the people around you. You had a naturally alluring vibe to you that made it hard to not look away. She wasnât a hater, you were stunning. And as she followed the harsh intake of air next to her she realized she wasnât the only one who felt the same.
Nayeon gave it to Mingyu for trying but she wasnât a fool. She had spent so long looking at him like he was the only person in the world that she quickly surmised he was only zoned in on one thing that night, that thing being you. You were a bit harder to read but woman to woman she could tell that you skillfully avoided eye contact in their general direction. And from the lovesick face he pathetically failed to conceal and longing gaze; this went above petty attraction.
Suddenly feeling lightheaded Nayeon excused herself to the bathroom, her mind bombarded with questions. Is he cheating one me? How do you know each other? Who is she to him? Do they have history? Is she⌠the reason he never looks at me like that?
She felt her eyes burn as she gazed in the bathroom mirror. She felt pathetic. It takes being in love to know what it looks like and Mingyu was looking at you like how she looked at him. Like you were his world. He was trying to hide it, desperately so, often cutting his eyes away from you if he caught himself staring for too long or boisterously jumping into the conversation to distract himself from you, giving Nayeonâs hand a squeeze every now and then but she saw through it all. And she loathed you for it.
By time she calmed herself down and made it back to the table her heart fell to her stomach seeing as the two people plaguing her thoughts were both suspiciously missing. Of course no one picked up on the disappearance act of the two but a quick check in with Somi directed her to the direction Mingyu excused himself too. With a quick thank you she followed swiftly, anxiousness pooling in her gut
Following down the hall the sounds of the party quieted until she heard a pair of new voices a little further down out on the balcony. The voices she had been looking for.
âYou did amazing today, Angelâ
That burning sensation returned to Nayeonâs eyes as she discreetly listened from inside. Angel. That was undeniably Mingyuâs voice.
â Mingyu, i told you to stop calling me thatâ you corrected with a sigh, â and thank you.â
âFuck- I know iâm sorry, Itâs still a bad habit,â he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly , â I-I miss you, you know⌠I know we didnât end on good terms but-â
âIs this what you followed me out here to say? If so iâm going back to the party-â
Nayeon heard your heels swiftly clack shocking her thinking she wouldâve been found out but then they suddenly stopped. She dared to peek over to properly view you both.
Mingyu grasped your wrist firmly, brows furrowing in frustration, â Why are you being so cold to me? Do you get a kick out of hurting me like this huh? Is that it? I know you- look at me y/nâ he tugged you softly yet firmly to face him again, eyes gazing into yours desperately look for anything, â i know you wanted to ended things with us but do you really have to treat me like a stranger, did you really forget everything, do you really feel nothing for me anymore? I still-â
âSunbaenim,â you looked up at him icily yanking your arm from his grasp ,â This is hardly appropriate, you have a girlfriend. Itâs been months, let it go. It wouldâve never worked between us anyways, Nayeon is good to you donât be reckless over a little flingâ
âFling?! H-how could you- a fling doesnât last for over year, a fling doesnât make love like we did, a fling doesnât meet your family, a fling doesnât talk about moving in and getting married in the future dammit y/n i was inlove with you!, â his voice trembled, fists shaking by his side, âYou just iced me out of no where, ignoring my messages, stopped answering my calls, and then suddenly breaking up over text?! You keep playing down our relationship as if all of it never happened. You never even gave me a proper reason, Iâm supposed to hate you for casting me aside like nothing by and yet why can��t I huh? Even while youâre glaring at me like that with those big beautiful eyes all i wanna do is make them roll back.â
Nayeon couldnât believe her eyes when she saw his knees hit the floor, You pulled at his shoulders with a curt âenough of thisâ but he shook you off in favor of furrowing his head into your stomach .
â Youre so cruel Y/n, how can you show a man heaven then yank it away from his grasp like this. Youâre going to drive me insane. You know I canât live without you, youâre the one who ruined me like this and you canât even take responsibility for itâŚâ
Nayeon wasnât able to see your conflicted expression as Mingyu grasped at your waist sniffling onto the fabric of your dress but she didnât need to.
She moved to the exit as she couldnât bare to hear anymore but she wasnt quick enough to escape the last words Mingyu whispered.
âFuck-IâŚI love you so much, Angelâ
Heartbreak doesnât even begin to describe Nayeons current emotional state. She dashed home without a word, cried in the shower and then curled up on her bed in a pile of misery. Mingyu didnât stop by to sleep over like normal that night and it drove her mad. All she got was a goodnight text saying he was gonna stay with wonwoo. But is that really where he was? Maybe he was with y/n, moaning angel [she mocked in her head] and giving her all of himself forgetting he had a whole girlfriend. So when ever he got that distant look in his eye was he thinking of her? When he moaned angel, was that what heâd moan in her ear? Was he wishing to be inside her instead? When he was backstage did his heart beat out of his chest just by the sight of her? The reason Nayeon feels like shit is all because of her.
It took her a while before she decided to respond to Mingyu. She ignored his texts and inquiries for about a week before she sent him the âwe need to talkâ message. She didnât know what to expect or where to start but she was hoping that their previous friendship would be enough for him to not completely run over her feelings anymore than the whole situation had.
He came over the the next evening after his gym session sporting a grey sweatshirt and pants combo. She couldnât tell if this was on purpose but she had to stay strong to find the answers she so desperately needed. He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek that still made her heart jump after everything that sheâs heard before promptly sitting on the couch.
Nayeon sat down awkwardly across from him not sure where to start. âum do you want anything to drink? i think i have-â she started looking anywhere but at him.
âNayeon,â he called gently making her look up hesitantly, â Ask me anything, I wonât lie to you.â
He looked her earnestly in the eyes and it took Nayeon a second to come to the conclusion that he knows that she knows. Before she could question how he answered for her.
â Somi told me you were looking for me that night,â He started slowly, â You suddenly going home, not answering your phone, and then saying we need to talk⌠i pretty much guessed what was up⌠so ask me anything and iâll tell you everything, you deserve to knowâ
She felt her eyes well up in tears at his honest reply not being able to stop herself from the question she wanted to know the most.
âDid you sleep with her while we were together?!â
â No, I hadnât talked to or seen her for months before we got together. I donât know how much you saw the night of the party but I didnât sleep with her then either.â
ââŚDid you want to?â
âN-Nayeon-â
â Please just a-answer the questionâ
ââŚyeahâ
She felt the frog in her throat at that but kept the questions searing her heart coming.
â How did you two meet?â
â I heard her singing in the practice rooms at Hybe before her debut, but i first saw her physically shortly after her debut at Mnetâ
â H-how did your relationship start?â
â I think i was drawn when i first heard her voice from way back then, when we officially met I-I wanted to get close to her and the more time we spent together the more harder it got to stay awayâ
â Weâve been friends this whole time, how come iâve never met her?â
â She didnât want anyone to know we were dating. So we never interacted in public only wonwoo really knew. Since we live togetherâ
Nayeon tried to think back to around the time they were supposedly dating. Sheâd sometimes catch hints of hickies on his neck or him smiling at his phone but she just thought he was just fooling around and not committed to anyone. She remembered feeling severely envious though, because that was the happiest she had ever seen him. And if everything he says is true it matches the depressive episode he was in months before they got together, if thatâs when she cut him off from what he said that night.
She wiped her tears feeling a bit more whole to look him in the eyes again, â But why her? Donât get me wrong sheâs pretty and all but youâre not the type of guy who only cares about that. The way she talked to you at the partyâshe seems like a fucking bitchâ
He actually laughed out loud at that, a soft look taking over his face, âYeah i know, sheâs hardheaded, mean, and rude but thatâs just one aspect to her. Sheâs also creative, headstrong, caring, and sensitive⌠Nayeon Iâm sorry,â he switched suddenly, â I mightâve not physically cheated on you but i still disrespected this relationship and our friendship. I enjoyed our time together and i really wanted it to be you, I wanted to forget about Y/n and live a nice easy love with you b-but seeing her at the party reminded jus how far gone i am. One look and iâm back where I startedâ He lowered his head in his hands, âYou donât have to forgive me but please know nothing is wrong with you, you are amazing I just- Iâm-â
âIn love with Y/n right?,â Nayeon finished tears flowing freely at some point. She wish she could yell and scream and call him names but even now she felt his apology from the bottom of his heart. It was never her, it was never gonna truly be her.
She felt the couch next to her dip and the warmth of his embrace. She couldnât help but fall into it, her cries tumbling into hiccups, mourning of her love lost. âS-So are we done? Youâre breaking up with m-me? Are you going to her now?â
He patted her back softly, â I donât want to hurt you anymore, knowing i canât give you what you want and deserve⌠and even though i love Y/n as iâm sure you heard sheâs adamant on pushing me away. We havenât even talked since that night⌠plus iâm pretty sure y/n still has my number blocked lolâ
âI d-didnât know you liked emotional unavailable girls Mingyu,â she tried to joke between her gasps, âi wouldâve changed my tacticsâ she wailed into his sweatshirt.
She felt his chest rumble in suppressed laughter before whispered apologies into her hair. It hurt so bad but she could never hate Mingyu. You on the other hand is a different story but she knew albeit not anytime soon sheâd eventually have to come to terms with this and hopefully one day her and Mingyu could get back to how they were before, as friends.
â*:.・. .・.:*â
Mingyu left Nayeon apartment guiltily feeling lighter despite breaking his friends heart. In times like these he cursed you so much for causing all this chaos in his life and at the same time he imagines you in his embrace, whispering sweet everythings into your ear.
He threw his keys in his dish tray once reaching his apartment before grabbing a beer and joining wonwoo in the living room.
ââŚWell you donât have any scratches on your face,â Wonwoo analyzed, â So iâm guessing things went well i hope?â
Mingyu scoffed sarcastically while cracking open his can, âHyung what the hell am i doing, something must be wrong with my headâŚâ he pouts before taking a big gulp.
âYeah they say love is one hell of a drug,â Wonwoo offers, âBut honestly are you really okay with ending things with Nayeon, itâs safe and certain unlike Y/nâ
Mingyu takes a deep breath before answering, â As long as Y/n exists I donât think i can truly be happy with another. I donât know what she slipped into my food when i wasnât looking but nothing compares. Nayeon is everything right on paper but whyâŚ. i jus canât- Itâs ugh,â he gives up and ops for his drink again.
Wonwoo ponders for a moment, â You are a bit of a masochist,â
âYa.â
â So when are you gonna talk to Y/n? Makes no sense breaking up with Nayeon because of her if not to work things out right?â
â But hyung, thatâs what i tried to do at the party, literally begged on my knees and she still left me there,â he laid back in the couch as if he were in a therapy session, â I jus donât get it, we were doing so well. As long as we were together everything was gonna be alright, the power could be out and sheâd find flashlights and build a pillow fort. Sheâd find the coolest art pieces and trinkets and gift them to me, sheâd always be my second hand in the kitchen even if itâs jus stirring and taste testing. Everyday felt like a dream, there was never a dull time. We could literally have the time of our lives trapped in a cardboard box. Weâd spend nights just drinking wine and talking about our hopes and aspirations and everything under the sun, iâd do anything to make her dreams come true and she had the nerve to say it was a fucking fling??â
Upon reminiscing he couldnât help the tightness in his chest and on top of that the resurfacing of anger because how can all of that happen and you act as if it didnât. No matter what you tried to paint it out as he knew it was real for both of you.
Wonwoo patted his shoulder reassuringly feeling him getting worked up again. â Didnt everything change after she came back from visiting her family after the Le Sserafim mini tour? I remember didnât all her members go visit her family too?â
âYeah why?â Mingyu questioned not understanding what he was getting at.
âTry asking them, maybe they know something you donât. Iâm not judging but I always thought it was weird how she never talks about her family. Whenever youâd ask to meet them sheâd change the subject. Maybe itâs got something to do with that,â Wonwoo was really wracking his brain overtime trying to find some sort of lead. Heâd seen Mingyu and Y/n before all this mess and he was convinced they were soulmates then so maybe they just needed some guidance now.
Mingyu drunk in silence as he thought over Wonwooâs words more. He remembered how scared you were when you first met his family despite his adamant affirmations that they already loved you. You were so jittery and out of your element telling him later that night youâve never seen a family so loving. He considered his family pretty average though. He remembered the fear in your eyes when he asked to meet your family only for you to pull him in for a hot kiss purposefully rendering his brain off course. He didnât think much of it at the time but now heâs starting to see Wonwooâs train of thought
âIâll try contacting Yunjinâ
After asking around in a couple of friend groups he finally was linked to Yunjinâs Kakao. Despite being head over heels in love with a member in her group she had little inkling about the severity of his and Y/nâs relationship until the end that is. Normally Y/n would sneak out to his place which was why Wonwoo knew her pretty well, but her members only found out when Mingyu barged into their dorms demanding to talk to Y/n after her casual âletâs break upâ text those many months ago. He had no idea how the explaining went after that but Yunjin didnât seem too surprised at his, âHey yunjin, this is Mingyu⌠do you think we could meet up and talk soon. Iâm sure i donât have to tell you to keep this between us.â
A couple hours later he received his reply.
âSunbaenim! Ofc we should be back in Korea in a week. Cafe by hybe sound good?â
A week came sooner than one would think, his mind giddy because maybe he could finally get some progress in understanding why you left him. He waited patiently at the back of the cafe with a baseball cap tapping away at his phone. He opted to swipe through his secret gallery of pics he saved of you even after the break up, thumb running softly along the pixels of your cheek.
âSunbaenim!â
Mingyu jumped at the sudden appearance of fiery hair as Yunjin sat down. He greeted her before calling the barista over to get her drink settled along with his.
â How were the concerts in Paris?â He made small talk.
â It was our first time going, itâs so beautiful there and God the food was amazing,â she spoke animatedly before squinting her eyes knowingly,â but i know thatâs not what you messaged me for.â
He held his hand ups in defeat with a sheepish smile, âHow is she?â
â Honestly⌠Y/n-ah is normally the one who brings us all together and the glue to our group but sheâs been so quiet lately which is so unlike her, â Yunjin eyes glossed a bit, âI worry about her a lot because only few know how much she cares and how much she hurts. She never lets us in and thatâs why i was so shocked that she was seeing someone but i was glad because she was so happy. Her smile really reached her eyes you know, even though at the time i didnât know who it was and i only found out cause she left her phone in the living room and i saw the name âNose PickerđŠľâ and you messaging you loved her and for her to get some rest.â She giggled softly at the memory.
Mingyuâs heart squeezed at the stupid nickname he asked her to change a million times. â D-did she tell you anything after i stormed into your dorms, sorry about that by the way,â
Yunjin looked hesitant not sure how to phrase what wasnât in her place to say. âUm- after you left she just got so quiet b-but that night i heard her crying and so i went over to her and held her. But she jus kept saying so many negative things about herself and repeating the things her mom-â Yunjin clasped her mouth feeling wrong for exposing your problems like this without your consent. You explicitly told her to never talk about that night but Mingyu staring at her with desperation in his eyes was breaking her resolve.
âYunjin what is it?! Please tell me, more than anyone i want her happiness Yunjin please,â he grasped her hands tears threatening to drop,â Pleaseâ
Orbs shaking Yunjin sighed in defeat before continuing in a meek voice ,â The other members didnât really understand because her family speaks english but I understoodâŚ. I understood e-everythingâŚâ
Yunjin followed as you led the girls into your childhood home. That morning you were on edge but since the last touring city ended up in your home town everyone insisted on meeting your family and sleeping over that night. Yunjin was excited to see a part of you you donât normally share in hopes of getting closer to you and bragging about you to your family.
Your family were relatively normal looking and kind enough to them as everyone gathered around the dinner table. The spread of food was vast for such short notice, not having to worry about diets since you all were on break after this was a nice bonus as well. Everyone fell into a lull of conversation but something felt strange to Yunjin. You were so quiet, just poking at your food aimlessly. To liven up your spirits she was about to compliment your parents home until your mother finally directed her attention towards you.
âWhat why arenât you eating, i cooked all this food for you and your little friends the least you can do is eat it.â Your mom stated quite abrasively.
With out lifting your head or taking a moment to breathe your responded, â Iâm not hungryâ
Your mom laughed condescendingly at that, âYou? Not hungry, ahh come on you use to be so big when you were younger youâd eat up everything. You afraid to blow up like that again? Actually maybe you shouldnât eat, you donât want to look like that again right. Oh my i remember I used to be so embarrassed taking you anywhere with me. All your cousins were so small and here you were taking up so much space. Itâs good you finally stopped eating so much, youâre so pretty now too! You really take after me now ya know-â
Yunjin watched in complete horror as your mother rambled on stabbing knife after knife into your esteem with no care in the world as you just sat there taking the public embarrassment. You always stood up for the girls against the strict dietary guidelines and always reassured them how beautiful they were and yet here you were, eyes listless as you absorbed everything your mother spewed like a sponge.
â-You know i was so worried about you, especially when you use to cut yourself in highschool. I mean who does that do you know how bad that made me look and you missed so many days of school doing Lord knows what. You almost got me in trouble it was so humiliating when your teacher had to visit our home, you know everyone in the neighborhood saw that. And then you randomly wanted to go to korea to become a performer, Haha that one gave me a good laugh for the longest time but hey who knew there was actually something you were good at, iâve been spending your monthly checks at the new med spa that opened down town-â
Yunjin felt her own tears welling up in her eyes, she wish youâd say something, she wish she could say something but she was in such shock. She grew up in a loving family, albeit they had their problems but sheâs never witnessed a catastrophe of a dinner like this. She glanced back at you and reached for your hand under the table but you didnât react at all. Until the next batch of words your mother had for you.
â And why didnât you tell me you were dating! I was worried youâd end up alone you know, you never brought a boy home, i mean i know you were a bit chubby but atleast one boy had to have liked you,â
ââŚHow did you know iâm dating someone?,â You finally spoke breath caught in your throat.
âIt was about a week or so ago, i ran out of the money you usually send so i was calling for more which after all iâve done for you raising and keeping a roof over your head i donât know why you have me on such a small stipend but anyways a man picked up. His english was a little choppy but he introduced himself as your boyfriend ha! can you believe that. I was curious how he looked so i googled his name and I have to hand it to you, i donât know what he sees in you but make sure you keep that one, heâs one hell of a catch. I bet you havent told him about your little stunt in highschool or how huge you used to be, makes sure he never finds out or else heâs not gonna want you anymore, okay honey, men like that like their women with no baggage and i want grand babies before i die, all the nurses at the hospital are always bragging and showing pictures and i have nothing to showâ your mother finally finished
You were shaking. Yunjin was holding your hand so tightly. Chaewon picked up on the unpleasant vibe but knew better than to say anything. Dinner concluded, you all thanked your parents for dinner and cleaned the table before all the members packed up in your childhood bedroom for the night. When she was sure everyone was asleep Yunjin turned to you.
âY/n-ah Iâm so s-sorry,â she weeped into your side. But you didnât say anything, you jus hummed before turning over and going to sleep.
The next morning you all packed up to head for the airport. Yunjin overheard your mom asking for more money before giving you a hug after you wired it. She told you she loved you but you didnât reply.
âA few weeks a-after that, âYunjin hiccuped,â is when you barged in the dorm. A-and that night Y/n-ah finally cried and she-â Yunjin was full on bawling , â She was saying s-so many bad things about herself a-and i didnât know what to s-say. Iâve never seen h-her like that.
She buried her face in her hands recollecting that night. And Mingyu⌠he was furious. Furious for entertaining that witch on the phone, furious for not seeing sooner how far your insecurities went, his face red in anger but also guilt for being so blind. So much made sense about you. You would never fully finish your meals, you always wore such baggy and covering clothes when not on stage, you hated when he took pictures of you and you hated smiling critiquing how your cheeks spread, you always were one to listen to others venting but never partook in your own, you always talked about dreams of the future cryptically as if youâd never be around to reach them, when he tried to be affectionate with you in public youâd always slink away from him and last and not least you pushed him away in fear of revealing the bits you so desperately wanted to hide; afraid itâd affect his perception of you.
But you were so so wrong. He needed you to understand, he saw you, his angel. Maybe it wasnât as clear in the past but he saw you now and it changed nothing. He loved you with all his being and God he really fucking needed to see you-
â-Where is she?â He demanded determinedly already packing his cup and phone getting ready to go.
âI-I donât know,â Yunjin answered honestly,â When we arenât on schedule she leaves her phone at the dorm and just l-leaves-â
â What! Do you know how dangerous that is, why hasnât anyone stopped her!â He could feel himself falling apart, he needed to see you very badly, he needed to make sure you were okay with his own eyes, and if you werenât he needed to make you okay somehow.
â She always leaves at the most random times, she normally gets back in the e-evening?â Yunjin wiped her red eyes for the umpteenth time.
He didnât know what to do, he wanted to run around Seoul like a chicken with its head cut off but he had no clue where to look. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate at this rate, he felt like such an idiot, he shouldâve fought harder if only he had known how deep the hurt went. He couldnât help but curse out loud.
âW-Wait Sunbae,â Yunjin spoke up with a revelation, âIâm checking our group chat, I-I think she mightâve taken her Apple Watch, lookâ
Yunjin turned her phone around showing your supposed location. He looked at the map on her phone, the glowing dot was resting in a building in Myeongdong. He quickly took a screenshot of your location, thanking Yunjin before sprinting to the company car he brought with him that afternoon. He was pretty sure he spilled some of his drink and stepped on some toes on the way to the vehicle but he couldnât be bothered to even look back.
â*:.・. .・.:*â
To say you were surprised to receive an invitation from Nayeon of all people would be a complete understatement. You never gave her your number so it was probably received from Somi. But here you sat at a fancy restaurant awkwardly staring at each other in silence. You normally just wandered around till it got dark when there wasnt any schedules but you decided to bring your watch just in case your body goes missing. You are aware her and Mingyu broke up and you are pretty sure this invitation out wasnât to begin a beautiful friendship with the way she was glaring at you.
â So-â
â I-â
You both tried talking at the same time. Cringing inwardly you bowed your head for her to take the lead.
â You know i donât like you right.â
Oof straight for the throat but you didnât have much to say to that, cause you didnât like you either.
âYeah i figured as much,â you sipped your water, â so why the invitation?â
â I wanted to see for myself whatâs got Mingyu so wound up,â She tilted her head scrutinizing you, â So far iâm unimpressed.â
â Listen if you just invited me here to take jabs at me-â
â Youâre pathetic.â
Okay that one made you roll your eyes. You gathered your purse ready to get up and leave until she continued.
â You have an amazing man so completely enamored with your very being and yet you are stomping all over his heart. At first i thought you were just a bitch-â
You put your purse back down, uncomfortably shifting as she stared you right in your eyes.
â Iâve been watching you ya know, you walk around like a pile of self loathing on a stick, itâs so hard to watch. I donât know your story but I can assure you right now nothing will change how that man thinks of you. And as his friend you hurting him is a me issue now. That fool is so hard headed iâm pretty sure if i told him you murdered puppies heâd still love youâ she scoffed, rolling her eyes as the waiter finally came with your appetizers.
You werenât good at conversations like this. Well was this even a conversation moreso you were being aggressively spoken at. âStalking is a crime you know,â you mumbled stabbing a fork into your salad.
âIs that really all you have to say? Donât play with me, we are not friends. Do you even love Kim Mingyu?â she frankly asked with a chicken wing pointed straight at you.
âLoving him has nothing to do with-â
â I didnât want to have to do this but you are being so difficult,â with her clean hand she opened her phone pulling up a compromising picture of Mingyu asleep in bed with Nayeon snuggled to his side. It was clear what they finished doing before it was captured âAnswer my question or iâll keep swipingâ
Your nose flared at the photo, jealousy swirled in your stomach even though you had no right. You pushed him away so you had no right to be envious but nevertheless you were. You remembered how that use to be you, losing track of what time you had to sneak back to the dorms because he was so warm and safe and so- Mingyu. Your eyes darkened as she swiped to the next photo, him sucking a hickey onto her inner thigh, looking up at her with those beautiful brown eyes. Your self esteem mightâve been in the gutter but you knew how to be shameless too.
â Delete all of those pictures right now and Iâll answer,â you challenged staring her right back down.
She picked at some stuck chicken in her teeth with her pinky acrylic, â Wah youâre so easy, fine fine iâm deleting them. Wasnât that many anyways- he didnât like me taking pics,â she mumbled the last part as she clacked away on her phone.
Once you were positive they were all gone your expression finally softened, lips parting, âI love him so much that iâm scared. Iâm scared because i can take when others hurt and abandon me⌠but if Mingyu does⌠if he ever gets tired of me or casts me aside i really wonât be able to survive it. Thatâs the one thing i wonât be able to bounce back from. When iâm with him my heart is no longer my own and that terrifies me. Trust isnât something that comes easy but i have no control over myself because of him. Iâm used to everything blowing up in my face, always being the butt of the joke, nothing ever working out in my favor so why should i believe for once that the good that is Mingyu isnât going to turn on me one day as well?â
â Because itâs fucking Mingyu,â she stated matter of factly , â Gods apology to man if you will.â
You huffed at that, finding it hard to disagree with that childish logic. After that you both jus ate in silence, probably both thinking of Mingyu to some compacity. By time the entrĂŠ came out Nayeon was ready to talk again.
â I knew he never loved me,â she sighed,â but even then he tried his hardest to. Gosh i wanna jus cry, the sex was so bomb too â i hate you so muchâ she pouted as she cut into her steak rather aggressively.
This time you actually laughed. A real one that touched you eyes. You held your stomach finding it hard to stop, lost in your mirth. In that moment Nayeon felt like she caught a glimpse of the Y/n he described a week ago.
You both payed for your separate meals, Nayeon left with a âI would offer you a ride but i still donât like youâ so you made your way down the street, no destination in mind, shaking your head softly at the fiasco that dinner was. You didnât make it far before a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind. You shouldâve screamed for help if it was anyone else but you knew this embrace.
âAngel,â he whispered against your neck out of breath
âMingyu what are you doing,â. You tugged on his arms to avail, âI was about to call the police on you, you canât just grab people like that in- hey are you listening to meâ
No he wasnât in fact. To busy burrowing his head further in the crevice of your neck, humming softly as he pulled you flush against him. You tried to atleast to turn around in his hold but was met with a stubborn whine.
â Mingyu, people are looking.. s-stop before someone recognizes us,â You try to shrink away from the onlookers.
He intakes your scent with a deep breathe before finding the willpower to release his limbs before dragging you to what seemed to be a parking lot. You donât fuss much at that point letting him tug you along until you were seated and buckled safety in to his passenger seat of his car. You kept your eyes forward as he ran to his side and slid in himself. Before he moved to pull off you felt him staring shamelessly at the side of your face. Your own face starting to warm at the intensity of his gaze.
â What is up with everyone today,â you rolled your eyes before turning in your seat to face him square on, âCare to explain to me how you knew exactly where I was? Are you stalking me too??â
His eyes were still darting around every inch of you with that silly expression on his face, âYou look so nice today, did you go out to eat? Are you still hungry? What do you mean too, is someone bothering you? Also I know this nice spot by-â
You move to unbuckle your seatbelt but his hands beat you there, grabbing both your wrists in one hand. âMingyu let me-â
âGyu.â
âWhat?!â you huffed failing miserable against his hold , â This is not the time to act cute, Iâll scream I swear I-â
This time he yanked you forward by your wrists and slot his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Instantly your body like muscle memory became liquid in his grasp no longer caring to escape him. With his free hand he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger angling you side ways so he could eagerly push his tongue past your soft lips. He didnât mean for things to happen in that order honestly. He wanted to make sure you were safe and okay but seeing you always scrambled his thoughts and now heâs sucking on your tongue in the parking lot getting high off your breathy moans. Lost in the nasty wet tongue kiss he subconsciously loosened the grip he had on your wrists in favor holding both sides of your face as he swirled his tongue around yours.
You cursed yourself in your head for clutching onto his tshirt pathetically as you let him defile your mouth. At the rate he was going you were gonna pass out from the lack of air and intimacy of it all. You dragged your fingertips up to the juncture of his jaw line and neck before giving a firm enough pinch. Understanding you immediately he pulled back just to give you a couple more passionate smooches, eyes low as you both watched the string of saliva slowly give way between you. Itâs landed on your chin which he brazenly licked off before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. Finally done with the impromptu makeout you both gazed at each other out of breathe, periodically looking back down at each others lips.
He caressed your cheeks with his thumb softly, something heâd been dreaming of doing again for months , âHiâ Those charming canines of his flashing at you.
You didnât have it in you to play aloof with him in that moment, not after you jus swallowed an embarrassing amount of his spit. âGyu howâd you find me?â
âYunjin,â He answered quick leaning back in ready for round two, tongue already sticking out but you pushed him back by his forehead.
â âŚGyu youâve been wanting to talk to me about the breakup since it happened right?,â you closed your eyes in defeat, some of Nayeons words urging to on, âIâm giving you the chance now, so are we gonna talk and i canât guarantee if there will be later. I know you didnât come all the way here just to make out. â
âShit fuck thatâs-â he rubbed the back of his neck in shame, âIâm sorry I just got so carried away, yes we need to talk please. Can i take you back to my place?â
You sighed but nodded turning your head to focus on the road. He quickly started up the car not wanting to ruin this chance but not before pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead, hopefully youâd let that one slide just for him. You made no comment on it as he sped back to his place in silence.
Always the gentleman he kept your door on child lock so you wouldnât get out without him opening the door for you once you reached. You couldnât help the small smile at his childish mannerisms. Such a big baby. You allowed him to hold your hand as you both made your way to his place. Once inside you were hit with the nostalgia of his apartment, his heady scent was everywhere already making your heart race.
He locked the door behind you before getting you something to drink, âWonwoo is out on a brand trip,â He offered once heâd heard you sit down on their couch.
You hmed at the information too busy looking all around the apartment you use to frequent. It brought back a lot of memories of the past from the chaotic cooking dates, snuggling on the living room floor staring up at the cheap star projector, to fucking like teenagers in your epic pillow fort till all the sheets collapsed around you both.
The sound of your cup of apple juice being placed down on the table took you out of your reverie as Mingyu sat down next to you. Ever the offender of having no sense of personal space, he situated him self directly against you despite the plentiful seats in the living area. You felt like you shouldâve told him to move but you found yourself being honest for once; you didnât want him to.
âSo um,â he decided to break the tension, âC-can i hold your hand again while we talk?â
You relinquished your hand to him, both of you angling you bodies inwards to each other before you looked up at him waiting for him to ask his questions.
His heart compressed painfully at the sight of your big eyes but he forced himself to stay focused.
â As iâm sure you know me and Nayeon broke up.â He waited for your acknowledgment before continuing, â I wonât lie and say our meeting at the Somiâs party wasnât the catalyst for alot of things but it made it clear especially despite trying to move on I physically canât. I canât move on from you and I donât want to move on from you.â His thumb brushed your over knuckles, âWhen you broke up with me like that I wanted to be done with you, you hurt me Y/n⌠so so bad.â
Your eyes reflected the same glistened look as his as the guilt of carelessly casting Mingyu aside finally was catching up to you after all those months of dodging feelings. You bit your lip waiting for him to proceed.
âI just wanted to mean something to you, and when i finally was getting back to myself one look from you and back to begging on my knees like i was months ago.â
âG-gyuâ you sniffled and went to cup his face in your palms. He probably didnât even realize the single tear you were currently thumbing away at. âI- no amount of apologies will ever equate to how i treated you. But regardless Iâm sorry for taking out my insecurities out on you. God knows youâve been nothing but amazing and i still desperately tried to sabotage that all. I still think you deserve a better girl, donât settle for me Gyu you deserve the world.â
He held onto your hands to keep your touch on him. â I donât care what you think i deserve, I want you. Even after everything I forgive you whether you want to be forgiven or not a-and Yunjin told me about seeing your parents-â
You sharply sucked in a breath before trying to yank your hands back to your lap but he held them firmly bringing them to his chest, âDonât do that Y/n, donât try to close up on me like that please. Not again, Donât- shit angel donât cryâ
His heart broke at your vulnerable expression, lip quivering as you tried to lean away from but he wasnât having it. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled your securely into his chest, caressing your spine while cooing into your crown.
You hiccuped uncontrollably into his chest, â Sh-she promised she wouldnât saying anything, she promised!â
âPlease donât blame Yunjin, I didnât really give her choice, I just needed to know why you came back to me so closed off. Im sorry for picking up your motherâs call back then, I had no right to but Y/n donât feel ashamed please. You are so strong, so beautiful, so worthy of everything despite what she says. My mom loves you ya know, you can share her if youâd like,â he peppered kisses across your face, âyouâll just have to marry me of courseâŚâ
You choked on a laugh between the ugly cries that wracked through you. Maybe it was the tears but your mind felt a bit lighter, âGyu⌠I-I love you but iâm terrified. â You admitted âafter years of constantly being ridiculed and belittled as if im nothing i canât help but believe it. Iâm so embarrassed about having a mother like her and iâm ashamed with myself. But wh-whenever im with you i feel alive but she always finds a way to say the exact words to knock me all the way back down. For my own mother to think so lowly of me how am i s-supposed to stand proudly by your side. You are so blinding, so kind, so talented, so honest, so good; everything iâm not.â
âBut to me youâre all those things and more. Iâm only my best self when iâm with you, because of you. You really have no idea the power you hold not just on me but the people around you. Your mother doesnât deserve you and she doesnât define you. How someone can treat such a wonderful daughter like you like that still blows my mind. You deserve to be valued and praised just for existing simply because you are you. â
By this point your foreheads were pressed together, your hiccups finally simmering down. He kissed your nose softly before wiping away your tears. âI know years of hurt canât be done away in one night but can you promise me something Angelâ
You sniffled cutely before looking up at him again , âMmhmâ
âLet me see the ugly, itâs okay if you cry, scream, yell but do it to me. Let me share your burdens, you donât have to do it all alone. Please rely on me, itâs what iâm here forâ
You wrapped your arms around him sighing into his chest. You felt so drained and lightheaded so tired but still you couldnât deny the immense relief you felt off your heavy heart, â⌠You love me?â you whispered timidly.
âMore than youâll ever know,â He kissed your brow sweetly.
âOkay then⌠Iâll be in your care from now onâ you unhurriedly pressed a kiss to his jaw before yawning,â I know thereâs still so much more we have to talk about but can we talk more in the morning?â
He smiled fondly as you rubbed your eyes sleepily, nose still stuffy from your tears. He leaned down to press a proper kiss on your plush lips, âOf course my Angel,â You both gazed longing at each other a bit longer neither making the move to get up. He took the bait again and gave you a languid open mouthed kiss before whispering dreamily against your lips, âI love you.â
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Make Love, Not Porn
Hi, My Name Is
HHJ
Masterlist, Story Masterlist
18+ content â minors, do not interact
wc: 7.7k
Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, subby/service top!barista hyune, softdom!reader, oral (m), piv, protected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, consensual recording, lmk if I missed anything :p to be so honest i have no idea what i wrote i kinda blacked out lol so if itâs ass..look away
Past Broadcasts : Puppeteer
Live : Hi, My Name Is
Next Scheduled Broadcast : Sunday
âďž
Rule number five: know when to cut the cord.
But it was so difficult when he was literally showing up at your front door. You avoided him at all costs, acted like he didnât exist, even found a new grocery store because it was too close to the coffee shop and you were terrified of the possibility of running into him there even if the chances were slim to none. There wasnât even a reason for you to be scared to see him, he rejected you. Heâs the one that should be embarrassed, turning down a ten out of ten.
Then again, he was a ten out of ten. A twelve out of ten, even. But why did he have to shove it in your face?
You were red in the face, light sheen of sweat all over your body when youâd heard the knock. The middle of the day and you were in the middle of a solo session, breaking in a new toy youâd gotten for the next stream. An hour had probably passed when you realized it just wasnât working. Nothing was. The last time youâd been with Hyunjin was also the last time youâd cum, and it was frustrating the life out of you. As someone in this industry, cumming as many times as you wanted was one of the few motivators you had left. The amount of times youâd had to fake an orgasm on your streams was hurting your ego, as well as starting to get slightly suspicious to your regular viewers.
And now the sole object of your desire was behind a slab of wood that may as well have not been there at all. Your body heated up as soon as you saw him, like a warm hug. A fucking hug on the chilliest day of winter with a hot chocolate slipping down your throat. Thereâs also something else that would be awfully nice down you throat, and itâs behind the fucking door.
Through the peephole, you could see flowers and a coffee in his hand, biting his lip waiting for you to open. You hoped he didnât hear you, that heâd assume you werenât home and leave you alone for good. If you ignored him long enough, youâll forget youâd ever even met him.
You backed away from the door when there was a second knock, hand still reached out holding the nob out of habit. The desire to open it was almost strong enough to override the nagging at the back of your head that told you âheâs just using you. He got in your pants so easily the first time, whatâs to stop him from coming back for more?â
Almost.
It was a ruse, it had to be, this grand gesture. He was love bombing you. There was something he wanted. If not just sex, then fifteen minutes of fame? Using you for your platform? Still, you wanted to see the best in him, creeping up to the door again and silently looking through the peephole again. He was biting the inside of his cheek, switching the coffee between his hands when it got too cold. At some point heâd put everything into one hand so that he could run his hand through his hairâ you gasped a little at how effortlessly beautiful he was, not trying knowing no one was looking and still ethereal. He mumbled something to himself, you blinked then he suddenly dipped out of the frame.
He was finally gone. Another deep breath, your head rolled to the side and your back pressed to the wall, sliding down into a crouch probably a lot more dramatic than need be. But this felt dramatic, fucking theatrical like it was some poorly written fanfiction turned into a D-list casted movie. Twiddling your thumbs as if looking at them long enough would suddenly give you the answer, the small burst of adrenaline had finally begun to wear off, and sulking back into your pitiful showroom you went.Â
-
Hyujin doesnât know how long heâd been waiting outside your house. Heâd eventually decided to make himself comfy on the floor with his back to the door. Flowers, coffee, and baked good set aside, he scrolled through his phone and kept himself busy until eventually, heâd fallen asleep. Head lolled to the side, mouth agape, and snoring in the hallway.
Then heâs suddenly falling backwards, beyond startled and looking up at⌠an angel?
âDefinitely not an angel.â
Did I say that out loud?
âYes.â
Dazed, confused, a little gutpunched, Hyunjin sat up with your help. Just a light hand on his back until he realized you were touching him and he jumped to his feet and scrambled to grab the bouquet. Holding it out to you with shaking hands, âa peace offering.â
You looked at the gifts, leaned against the wall, and back up to his face, âwhat are you doing here, Hyunjin?â
He glanced around the room to take in the sight of your home without the prospect of sex slightly clouding his mind. It was cute, everything was so you, but also somehow entirely different to what heâd imagined your apartment would look like. It wasnât reflective of your showroom, which was all neon lights and sultry furniture to keep the mood. The rest of the house was cozy with little pieces of decoration that screamed with personality. The dimming glow of the sunset lighting the living room was the perfect accessory.
Wait, sunset?
You peaked at where he was looking, âdid you fall asleep?â Hyunjin nodded.
Now you felt bad, guilty even. You shouldnât seeing as there was little to no established relationship and you didnât owe him anything, but you did. His cheeks were puffy, pink tinted, and he still looked a little lethargic. Cute. Very cute. How badly you wanted to nibble on his cheeks cus they looked so edible. He looked edible.
No. Stop it.
âI would offer you a snack but the last time I did that you left me high and dry.â
He didnât know if you were being serious, turning his attention back to you with a dumbfounded expression. âReally? You didnât feel so dry to me.â Not a single ounce of shame, but also not trying to be smug. And no filter in his brain or mouth. âYou didnât call.â
Straight to the point.
Hyunjin invited himself in and headed for the kitchen he vaguely recalls following you into for said snack. He shuffled around in search of a vase, pushing the coffee into your chest when he finally found one and bumping into you because you were trailing so close behind. The little sip you took as he filled the vase with water to display on your kitchen counter made your body temperature soothe.Â
âYou didnât stay,â the softness of your voice made his heart sink.
âDid you really want me to?â
How were you supposed to answer that? Say that, yes, I wanted you to stay so bad that I chose to ignore you instead of confront you because itâs easier to pretend you donât exist than risk getting hurt again? Actually tell him that you havenât been able to make yourself orgasm properly since the last time you were together? That heâs ruined how you view pleasure entirely? That sex and pleasure and dating and basic human relationships seems so fucking pointless if itâs not with him? To a man youâve known for a week? No, thatâs not an option. Itâs batshit insane.
Whatâs also insane is how simple talking to him is. Itâs psychotic that you feel more comfortable alone with him than you do people youâve known for years. Youâre delusional to think that this is more than physical attraction, even if it is. Itâs so much more than that and every bone in you is telling you let the dainty red string pull you closer, let it guide you towards him. And god, you want to. Itâs too good to be real, heâs not real. Heâs a figment of your imagination that only exists in fairy tales because little red strings of fate donât determine your life, they donât tell you who youâll love, it doesn't mean anything. Not a single fucking thing.
âYes.âÂ
Now, why the fuck would you say that?
âYou shouldâve told me,â Hyunjin let out a sigh of what you think was relief. His shoulders slouched forward and smiled up at the ceiling.
His nonchalant made you raise an eyebrow, âI offered! You declined!â
âDonât yell at me. I left my phone number on your desk, you didnât call. Drink before it gets watered down.â You frowned and took a sip. âWhy didnât you call me?â
âWhat are you talking about? What phone number?â
âThe one on your desk? With the pretty drawing of you and the⌠yâknow?â
âI didnât see anything.â
âWhat?!â He slammed the bag with the baked item onto the counter and stormed through the apartment towards your showroom. You watched as he scoured the room, searching the bed, corners, your desk for whatever it is he was looking for.
Hyunjin had gotten on his hands and knees to look below it, finally to roll your chair back and pull the cupsleeve out from under it. The cardboard was smashed, crumpled, a little dirty. He stumbled to his feet to hold it in front of you, accompanying his raised, unamused brow.
âTo be fair, I thought my chair was broken.â
âYou didnât even bother to look at why it mightâve been broken?!â You shrugged, sipping the coffee again. Hyunjin huffed and tossed the cup sleeve back onto your desk. âYouâre insufferable. Where the fuck is your phone?â
âDonât swear at me.â Pointing at the bed, Hyunjin rolled his eyes before taking it.
âPasscode?â You tell him the six digits to unlock it. âIs that your birthday?â
â...No.â
âDonât worry, Iâll remember. Iâll even add it to your contact so that I get the notification.â After a few moments, he smiled triumphantly and tossed your phone next to the abandoned cupsleeve. âNow⌠Dinner?â
âThatâs it?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou forgive me?â
âThereâs nothing to forgive?â
âI left you outside.â
âYeah.â
âFor hours.â
âSure.â
âYou fell asleep on my doorstep.â
âWhere were you going, anyway? The sun was going down.â
âTo get my mail.â
âWhat?! At night alone?! Now, thatâs unforgivable.â Hyunjin took a step towards you, slim yet broad figure shielding yours from just about everything in your immediate vision. He leaned over, placing both of his hands on the sides of your head to hold you steady as he placed a simple kiss to your forehead.
The sudden affection made your brain short circuit because what the hell? How was he so okay with everything? It was almost like there was a wind up monkey toy holding cymbals inside his head that started clapping whenever his attention was taken somewhere else. But somehow, you were even more attracted to him, if that was even possible.
âWere you doing something in here? It smells like sweat.â He said and casually strolled out of your showroom.Â
For hours, you and Hyunjin were in your kitchen. Half of that was spent trying to figure out what the two of you could cook without burning the house down. The conversation was so entertainingly mundane that neither of you realized how much time had truly passed, sun fully set and night sky helping illuminate the dimly lit living room. He insisted on doing most of the cooking when you both agreed that boxed pasta and premade red sauce would be the safest thing.
All you had to do was sit back and ogle his back muscles as he stirred the pot, maybe hand him a napkin or spoon when asked. The white shirt he wore was as thin as they come, tank top more than visible beneath it and making your mouth water. The room had become incredibly warm as Hyunjin put the wooden spoon to the side. With his back to you, you got to watch as both his hands threaded through his hair, gathering what he could, and tying it into a messy ponytail. God, how did he do that? That thing where he just exists and it makes you swoon? He needs to stopâ itâs getting ridiculous how hearts were basically replacing your pupils.
âIf it tastes horrible, lie to me and act like it doesnât.â Hyunjin placed a full plate in front of you, taking the seat across from you.
For the most part, the meal itself was silent. There just werenât any words that you could think coherently enough to speak. Great food, made especially for you, and by the most handsome boy youâd ever seen, why would you need to say anything? Hyunjin didnât seem to mind. All it looked like he cared about was not taking his eyes off you.
It was just the littlest bit uneasy, but nothing that put you off. His stare was just intense, part of you thought he was reading your mind. However, if he could, you probably wouldnât have had to spend a week apart.
âI donât understand you,â you admit as you suddenly find your plate nearing clean.
âDo you have to?â He responded, putting his fork down and sitting back while adjusting to spread his knees.
âIâd like to.â
Oh, how his heart fluttered when you said that. It felt like a step in the right direction. âThatâs the first time youâve asked me something personal that isnât related to sex.â
You frowned along with the small guilt that lingered over your shoulder. âThis is only the fourth time weâve met.â
âMost people ask this before taking their clothes off. I think Iâve told you before, youâre not like most people.â He could see you bite the inside of your cheek, making a cute pout that he could tell was coming from a place of an unnecessary amount of self awareness. âI like it, though. Why do you think I came back?â
âI donât know why. Thatâs, like, the whole point of me saying, âI donât understand you.ââ
Hyunjin reached over the short distance between him and you, thumb smoothing the ruffle between your brows and you instantly relaxed. As awkward as he could be, he really knew how to make you feel so at ease, second nature for him to be comfort embodied. There was no judgment on his face or in his tone that you could see. If you had asked what he was thinking about, he would have answered with how pretty your cheeks glow after a good meal.
âThat day, you agreed to come with me and⌠participate..?â Hyunjin nodded along and listened intently, continuing to lightly push your hair from your forehead and trace the outline of your cheek. âThen we showered and snacked and then you just⌠you left. And didnât so much as twitch when you looked at me after we were done.â
His jaw wanted to drop to the floor just how it did in the cartoons. That was the only reaction he could emit as it all clicked into place. Why you didnât look for him or stop by the coffee shop, why you were reluctant to open the door and accept his gift, the slightly cold shoulder you gave him when you so clearly wanted to be nothing but a blanket of warmth. âIs that what you think?â
Hyunjinâs heart hurt a little when you didnât answer, but he also wanted to laugh in your face at how stupid all of this was. However, he had clocked it the second you two had a real conversation, and so laughing at you was probably the last thing he should do. Instead, he trailed his touch down your jaw, gently cupping your cheek. âYouâre more than all this,â hands slid quickly, gesturing down your sides and back up. âSo much more.â
The tears wanted to swell in your eyes at how sincere his voice was. He couldâve been lying, for all you knew, but the small part of you that wanted to believe him was also the biggest part of you that had always wanted someone to tell you those small words. The small part of you that wanted to be wanted was also the biggest part of you that wanted him. It was all so confusing, you understood him perfectly but also not at all. Hyunjin could read you easily by now, you were like an open book to him.
âBut I was naked.â
âAnd so fucking beautiful,â practically gritted through his teeth because just saying the words couldnât express the painfully good clenching in his chest. Hyunjin pulled back for a second to stand up and shrink to his knees in front of you, reaching up again to take your cheeks in both of his hands. âBut how could I look at just your body when there is so much up here to get to know?â
There it was again, all the right words executed perfectly in spite of how great of a wall you put between you and him. Hyunjin smoothly pressed a kiss to your forehead, for emphasis or not, it made you shut your eyes tightly and the tears silently rolled. His thumbs were swiping it away before making it over the hill of your cheekbone, and he was standing to take your empty dishes into the kitchen for cleaning.
You were absolutely stunned. Unsure of where to go, how to act, what to say, you simply watched him quickly wash the plates with an endearing smile all the way across his cheeks before he was taking your hand to lead you towards the couch. He sat you next to him, millimeters apart and reading your body language. Definitely in need of a lighter mood.
Hyunjin stuck his hand out for a handshake.
âWhatâre you doing?â Your voice cracked.
âHi, my name is Hyunjin. Youâre incredibly gorgeous and Iâd love to take you out sometime.â
âIf this is some kind of roleplayââ
âItâs not,â he took your hand from your lap to connect with his. âThis is me wanting to know you, and you wanting to know me. I donât know what you do for a living, and you donât know what my dick looks like. Just people.â
Just people, that sounded nice.
You hesitated, then shook his hand. âHi, Iâm Y/N.â
âSo Y/N, can I take you on a date? Maybe have a picnic in the park, grab some cheap painting supplies and go paint near the river, dessert at the best ice cream spot I know. We can make it a nice day.â He tucked his hand back into his lap respectfully, throwing the other over the back of the couch to get just the littlest bit close to you.
âIâd like to, but Iâm lactose intolerant.â
âSee, Iâd say thatâs a lie because of your coffee order. But since I donât know you, Iâm going to take your word for it and offer a cake place that Iâve heard great reviews about.â
âI donât like frostingââ
âJust go on a date with me!â He raised his voice slightly with aggravation, teasing annoyance because he knew you were being difficult on purpose. You couldnât help but giggle as he pretended to squish your cheeks when in reality, he was forcing down his cute aggression to keep from taking a loving bite out of you.
Your cheeks warmed up at his reaction, endearing and all together cute. He was a weird combination of adorable and sexy, even now with strands of his hair falling in front of his face, glasses hanging on the front of his shirt but a gold chain peeking out from behind the neckline that would look so good dangling in your face. You couldnât help taking the glasses and opening them, slipping it onto his face. Hyunjin let you toy with his look by lightly brushing his hair away and pulling the necklace out of its hiding place. He raised his eyebrows when you were done. The skin of his neck tingled from where your fingertips had barely grazed.
âIf you dress like this, Iâm all yours.â
For a second, he didnât know what to say as that was all he wanted to hear. For all of the smooth moves and suave lines, there were the split moments where he radiated nothing but dorkiness wanting to flood out.
âIf you keep saying things like that, I might just kiss you.â
âWhatâs stopping you?â
âIâ I donât really know.â There it was, eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion.
While he sulked back into the cushion, you placed a gentle hand over his, just gauging the touch barrier. Hyunjin didnât seem to mind, but rather he intertwined his fingers with yours as he fell deeper into thought. âI wanna go on a date with you,â the admittance had him darting you a quick, hopeful glance. âBut, I donât know how to do this.â
âThatâs okay!â He was quick to perk up and make your grimace back a little at his sudden burst in energy. Hyunjin tightened his grip on your hand for reassurance. âI think our expertise just lies in different areas.â
âIâm not following.â
He jutted out his bottom lip with fake sympathy, scratching the underside of your chin. âIf you didnât notice, Iâm not the most intuitive when it comes to sex.â
That was a shock. âI dunno about that,â an honest answer that made him shy away with a laugh.
âMy experience is incomparable to yours, and not in a bad way! Just, maybe there were some things I was missing.â
You thought back to the moment you had with him, how unsure he seemed when you spoke about sex and masturbation, he seemed truly mind blown and eager to know more.Â
âAnd I can tell, you havenât had the easiest times with relationships. I think we can learn from each other.â
âThis feels like a weird, illegal exchange.â You frowned again. âBut I kinda like it.â
His heart raced, yours was beating a million miles an hour. There was a tension in the air that couldâve gone one of two ways. The first being that you pop open a bottle of wine and put on a good movie. Thereâs chocolate truffles in the cupboard, you could always grab a bowl to have with the wine. Sweet compliments sweet, Hyunjin might enjoy it. Perhaps you could end the night with a kiss, maybe a cuddle if it went that far. Youâd see him again, you didnât have a doubt about it. Youâve got his number now, thereâs no more excuses.
The second, was how things actually went.
You mentally thanked your friend for giving you these dim lights for the living room, they made his honey skin look so edible.
Hyunjin doesnât know when it happened, you donât know when it happened. Just that there were half finished glasses of wine on the coffee table, the movie long passed the rolling credits, and that you were on your knees between his legs, staring at his cock with the roundest, glitteriest eyes heâd ever seen.
Your bra strap was slipping off your shoulder along with the entire cup threatening to be overflowed by your breast, he wished it would. More than that, he wished you would stop teasing him. All you were doing was tracing the pad of your finger over his slit, collecting the leaking precum and spreading it around the tip. The warmth of your breath splayed over the skin of his pelvis made goosebumps rise across every inch of his skin, giggling as he shivered.
âHow did this evenâ ah, ahâ happen?â
Vibrations of your chuckle prolonged his shuddering, âdunno. Iâm not upset about it, though. Unless⌠unless you are?â You backed away from his cock and expression replaced with something dead serious.
âNo, no! God, please keep going.â Hyunjin reached out to thread his fingers in your hair, but a quick slap on his wrist made him retreat.
âNuh, uh. You havenât earned that yet.â
Hyunjin repressed a groan, âsorry, sorry.â
He felt overly exposed even if you were just as naked as he was, you actually more so than him. The blurred memory of how this even started was brought back when he glanced at your discarded shirt hanging on the armrest of the couch, your house shorts and his white tee in another pile on the ground next to you. His pants and boxers were puddled around his ankles, and that was what made his face burn. Whatever was to happen next, say you wanted him to carry you to the bedroom or pin you against the wall, heâd literally be caught with them around his ankles. Itâs a problem he canât put on to you, but it still made him flustered nonetheless.
You were a few inches from his bare southern region, now, having to sit up taller so that his leaking dick didnât obstruct from maintaining eye contact with him. âI⌠really like you,â tone as small as it could go without turning into a whisper.
âI really like you, too.â As antsy and anxious as he was, Hyunjin restrained from bucking into your face.
âThereâs something I wanna do, only if you wanna, too. I think you might like it? Yâ you can say no! No hard feelings! I just think that Iâll be seeing you a lot aâ and you already know what my job isââ
He leaned forward to tip your chin higher, âI trust you.â
Blush covered your cheeks in a millisecond and it made Hyunjin smile smugly. When you turned around to grab your phone on the coffee table and prop it up against the wine bottle, he got the idea. Before you unlocked it, you spun back to face him. âI need you to say that this is okay.â Not that you didnât trust him, as well, but you have every reason not to. Not just morally, but this was your career on the line if something were to go haywire.
âI am okay with this. Turn on the camera.â
You nodded excitedly, âthis is just for us.â
The angle at which you positioned your phone made it so that his face wasnât showing, only the view of your body between his knees sitting prettily for him. Hyunjin could see the screen and throbbed even harder, he was torn between looking at you and looking at the hottest video youâve ever made to date. Or, about to makeâ with him. Even if no one else is ever going to see this, the act of being recorded made him harder than heâs ever been.
Blipping of the recording being started, you settled comfortably again locked between his legs. Hands strolling up the insides of his naked thighs, Hyunjinâs breath grew heavier the closer in you came. He could feel your body heat again as he prayed you would hurry up. The camera couldnât pick up the way you ogled his cock, the way you licked your lips, or the way you looked up at him through your lashes just as you stuck the tip of your tongue out to gather the bead precum and swallow. Hyunjin let out a breath he didnât realize he was holding in and the sound of his sigh made you giggle again.
âCan I?â You asked all too sweetly for what it is you wanted.
âPlease.â
âSo kind,â praised before he was about to be destroyed.
Absolutely obliterated, total annihilation, earth-splitting and volcanoes erupting the same way he did as soon as your mouth took in the tip of his cock. He blew on the spot, and you sucked him through his orgasm until he was dry and shriveled up with embarrassment. âFuckâ god, oh myâ fuck, Iâm sorry! Iâm so sorry!â He continued to twitch into your mouth as you licked up whatever remained.
It didnât even seem to phase you, his premature finish was more than worthy of a few reprimands, possibly making him leave all together and deleting his number. Less than satisfactory. But it made you all the more excited. Where he crumbled is where you saw potential to create skyscrapers of pleasure, all intended to blow his mind.
An easy swallow of his seed down your throat, you kissed the inside of his thighs in reassurance. ââS okay. I liked it,â honest as honest can be.
âTell me if I should pull my pants up and leave so I can save whatever dignity I have left.â
âDignity is overrated. Degradation is a whooole lot more fun. Plus,â showing off his whiteness on your tongue, you licked a stripe up the center of his dick and Hyunjin shuddered again, âyouâre really sensitive.â
Hyunjin sat back and let it happen to him, he couldnât find the strength to so much as tell you when he was about to cum again because it was so painfully good. It didnât take very long or very much effort on your part, simply having to massage his balls and pinch the skin of his pelvis while your tongue worked minimal magic as you kept him sheathed in your warm, wet mouth. His nails raked across the couch cushion in a way that made you feel a little bad that he couldnât touch you. Just a little. âDid so good for me. Think you can do one more, baby?â
He was on the verge of saying no, until you stood up. Amidst his plummeting energy and evergrowing sensitivity, Hyunjin didnât have half the mind to remember that you were just as needy as he was. You were having so much fun playing with him that you almost forgot, as well. The face he makes when he cums is the hottest thing youâve ever seen, you were this close to rutting against his leg like a fucking dog. Youâd do it, too, shamelessly. However, you figured you could save that for another day. This was about him.Â
You stood, ass taking up the entire view in the camera. You let him watch you strip, unclipping your bra and tossing it somewhere forgotten. Evening the score, you tugged at the hem of his tank top to discard, although you were teetering back and forth on letting him keep it on. Next off was your panties, left along on the floor before you began to climb into his lap.
Oh god, you were straddling him. Really straddling him. Wet pussy on full display, knees spread and so close to his cock that he could feel the dampness on his own skin. Or was that just cus you were sloppy earlier? He didnât care, nor did he have to try to get hard again seeing as he never went soft.
You didnât sit fully, hovering over him with the only skin touching being your thighs on his and your arms draped over his shoulder. Hyunjin found comfort in the heat as you wiped away the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, leaning deeper into your touch. When you dragged your hands down his arms to guide them to hold onto your waist, he struggled not to buck his hips up into you. He thought about how you might laugh when you rewatch the footage later, but Hyunjin couldnât bring himself to care no matter how ridiculous it looked. He knows that he was rutting into nothing but the air, but the increase in heat when he got close to your cunt was more than satisfactory if you decided it wasnât what you wanted.
Except you were ready to go for it and was reaching for the side drawer for condoms, even if it meant overstimulating him even more. He wouldnât protest, he wanted it just as much. âAre you okay?â You asked concerned when he tucked his face into your shoulder.
âMhm,â he muttered against you, âwant you so bad.â
You reached back and between his legs, dragging a delicate finger up from the bottom of his balls to the base of his cock. Hyunjin trembled and molded deeper into your frame. You chuckled, âI can tell, baby. But can you handle it? Youâre so worked up already, I donât wanna break you when weâre just getting started.â
âI can, I can!â He looked up at you with glistening eyes, full of tears and determination. âPlease, please, please.â Hyunjinâs hips bucked up again, hitting the inside of your thigh and you pushing him back down.
âCalm, baby. Weâve got all the time in the world. Deep breaths, now.â
Hyunjin followed your lead when you inhaled through your nose and let out a deep exhale. He continued to do so even though you were pressing your lips to his forehead, even though you were trailing them across his cheeks and skipping over his lips. He puckered them, ready to be suffocated by your kisses. But when you planted just a peck on his, he audibly whimpered, to which you laughed and continued down his neck.
Oh, he was extra sensitive there. And when you sat back on his knees to tweak both his nipples? Ascendance.
Hyunjin threw his head back and moaned just as loud as he did when you put him in your mouth. âNo, no, donât wanna cum again,â he murmured, but didnât try to resist your touch.
Still, you pulled away and placed your hands on his chest. âNo? Too much?â
âWanna make you cum first,â he suddenly grasped the undersides of your thighs and lifted the two of you off the couch. Neither of you had noticed his shins knocking the coffee table as he laid you on your back lengthwise with the couch, lifting your legs up so he could slot himself between them and over his shoulders.
It was a pleasant surprise, his display in strength and stamina, you were proud that he could keep going. The off-guard giggle you let out only spurred him to continue, cupping both your cheeks and stealing the kiss for himself. You couldnât stop it, didnât want to as he fit against you so perfectly. Cut through the tension like a knife did the passionate kiss prove to both of you that it was more than just physical attraction. Still, sometimes words do speak louder than actions.
You reached between your bodies to guide him towards your entrance, needing nothing but a moan against his lips to confirm to go further. The stretch was more than you anticipated, burning so euphorically good with a side of neediness for him to move faster. As if you could take all of him in one go, foolish. Itâd been a long while since youâd been with someone worthy of sticking their dick in you, this was much different than a plastic toy.
Though, he was worth the wait, even if it did make you pathetically whimper into his mouth. It was just the ego boost he needed, no longer feeling ashamed of his previous poor performance. You still wanted more, you were clawing at his biceps and he was swallowing every one of your moans until his thighs met your ass cheeks.
He wanted to blow for a third time just being inside you, feeling the pulsing of your walls and slick dripping down his balls. Hyunjin used every muscle in him not to begin fucking into you like an animal, brain somehow stronger than the primal need inside him. But while he watched for any sign that you were uncomfortable, trying to be overly vigilant that he wasnât truly paying attention to see you locking your ankles behind his neck and beginning to fuck yourself back and forth on his cock. His hands were planted near your head, realizing what it is you were doing when you bit your lip and held onto his wrists.
Hyunjin laughed into the air, the kind of laugh as though he had just won the lottery because holy fuck, he did. He watched as you bounced up and down, swiveled side to side, using him like one of your dildos suction cupped to the wall. Except he was the dildo, being used and abused until you felt satisfied.Â
âSo tightâ so hot ând wet. God, youâre so cute, oh my god. Donât ever stop fucking me, please, please. So good, too good.â
The drip of his sweat from his forehead onto yours broke your cock-induced fever, âwhy am I doing all the work, baby? You started this, so finish it.â You stopped dead in your tracks and slumped back into the couch.
Hyunjin was more than happy to fuck you silly, if he hadnât already cum twice and was running on fumes. Alas, he did his best and it was perfectly enough. You had run him ragged for your first time having sex, you couldnât blame him for being sloppy.Â
His best was still better than average, even if his pants were still stuck around his ankles. As he stood up straight and took the hook of your knees into his hands, Hyunjin let his head fall back to summon whatever energy he had left stored in the tank. Surprisingly, it was a lot. He was dripping in sweat, down his temples, neck, and chest and red blush had flushed his supple skin, but he was still the prettiest thing youâd ever seen.
He could say the same thing about you. Although your state was less messy than his, you still looked absolutely fucked out and desperate. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard he was scared you would draw blood, pinching your nipples and occasionally reaching up to claw at his chest. You and him were both worked up and on the verge of crying like a bunch of babies overstimulated by everything around them.Â
Your fingers found their way to your clit once he started to move, fast and unrestrained while trying not to blow before you again. Just perfectly did he fit inside you to the point where you were really questioning how the hell you had sex with other people when he was right there all along. This was nothing like your past experiences, fuck whatever it was Hyunjin thought they were like, this was something else entirely. Like waking up on Sunday morning thinking itâs Monday and being able to blissfully fall back asleep. The day when you have no responsibilities or weight on your shoulders and all you feel is relaxed. When you have nothing to do but wake up at noon to feed yourself then crawl back to bed to loaf. A lover coming home after months apart and being able to inhale their scent like itâs the first time all over again. The first cold day of autumn and the first warm day of spring. Heâs Sunday.Â
Hips against hips, skin slapping skin, sweat mixing and creating the particular cloud of odor where anyone who walked in would know what the two of you did. Hyunjin would stick his tongue out in concentration to make sure he was repeatedly hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back and toes curl. He was so good at it that after a while, he didnât need to hold you up anymore.Â
Eventually he let your legs rest around his waist so he could hunch over you again, kissing your lips so sweetly in stark contrast to how hard his cock was prodding into your soft spot. He wasnât moving roughly, but rather strong strokes that made you really feel his entire length slipping in and out of your aching cunt. Slick sounds of your bodies connecting layered the already adulterous moans leaving the both of you, your neighbors will for sure have a complaint about it tomorrow.
Hyunjin fell onto his elbows, millimeters from your face as his thrusts slowed. The way he looked at you, as though heâd set his eyes on the most sought after piece of art. In a way, he was. Of all the people that have seen you completely bare and beg for your attention, all the people youâve met, spoken to, kissed, fucked, he couldnât bring himself to care about any of that because you were under him now.
The almost stagnant nature of his movements wasnât frustrating or annoying. You enjoyed it, more than any kind of rough or needy sex youâve had with past partners. He wasnât touching you like you usually wouldâve needed, but still felt the bubble in your stomach wanting to burst. If he kept looking at you like, if he kept kissing you so delicately and fucking you just like this, it will.
His palm brushed the hair from your face, keeping it on the top of your head as if to surround you in purely him.Â
âMy sweetheart.â
Why was that what had to make the bubble pop? As soon as the words left his mouth and you saw the smitten smile on his face, your legs locked around his waist and nails raked down his back as white heat suffocated your body. You felt his face hide in your neck and latch onto the skin above your pulse, sucking a bruising mark as you came down and it was your turn to be covered in goosebumps. Hyunjin hadnât realized heâd cum again until you were hugging him tighter to your chest, falling limp on top of you and all the adrenaline finally wearing off.
Nuzzled tight into him until both your breaths were regular and in sync, shutting your eyes while his tongue kitten licked over the sore spots heâd been teething at, neither of you wanted to leave from behind the thin veils of bliss. Though, returning to reality with him didnât seem so bad.
âBaby, clean up time,â you cooed in his ear, to which you got no response but a soft snore. The giggle that left your lips was hushed to let him rest a little longer. But after a few minutes, the stickiness of the sweat was becoming uncomfortable, scratching his scalp a bit harder to gently wake him. Hyunjin hummed into you as he acknowledged the signal. âCâmon Hyune, shower.â
Wordlessly, he clambered off of you and let you lead him to the bathroom again, stopping in the hallways for towels together so that you wouldnât have to leave him alone. Similar routine to last time except when it was time for you to clean, he opted to stand out of the shower stream until you were finished because he wanted to stay as close to you as possible.Â
And when the both of you were clean, dry, and ready for bed, Hyunjin spoke again as you walked hand in hand into your bedroom. âYou called me Hyune.â
âHm? Thatâs your name, isnât it?â You smirked and pulled him deeper into the room. For a second, he took a look around and immediately felt like heâd been here before, comfortably familiar.Â
As you guided him towards the bed and lifted the cover for him to slide under, he suddenly woke up from your unintentional trance. âNo, Hyuneâs a nickname.â
âIs it okay if I call you Hyune?â A soft question as you get into bed beside him, the pair of you shamelessly naked and tangled in one anotherâs limbs.Â
âYeah, or baby.â You nodded against the pillow, sweeping a hand through his hair again when he rolled on his side to face you.
The two of you stared at one another for what couldâve been minutes or hours, neither of you knew. But you were on the verge of falling asleep as he placed a supple kiss on your forehead. It sparked the small memory of the long forgotten phone that had recorded the entire event. It jolted him awake as well when you suddenly got up from bed to run through the apartment to retrieve it.
Hyunjin was sat up on his elbows when you returned and gratefully took in the sight of you naked once again, feeling light as a feather.
You had ended the recording and pulled up the video to realize it was four hours long. Hyunjin gawked and laughed when he saw the time stamp. He rolled onto his back and opened his arms for you to lay in as you watched the video together.
Everything was just as heâd seen it happening from the beginning until you took off your undergarments. If the both of you werenât deadbeat tired, it probably wouldâve turned you on and sparked a second round. Instead you both could watch it with admiration and fondness.
âOh, that was so sexy when you did that,â he said in reference to you running a finger across his balls as you straddled him.
âI like when you hold me like this,â you commented about how far and tightly his arms wrapped around your torso.
You both criticized and critiqued the video, only able to find positives to praise one another about until it was time for him to flip the positions. The clip showed Hyunjin lifting you up then standing, and suddenly the table shook and the camera tipped over. The frame showed the opposite end of the couch that you were on, the only thing on screen being the tail end of your lower halves, mostly his ass in the air and your feet dangling in the air. You both burst into a deep gutted laugh and were unable to catch your breaths at how funny the scene looked from that angle.
âEverything was so good!â You joked, pausing the video and zooming in to see his butt in the air.
âI donât even remember hitting the table,â he admitted while taking the phone and looking closer. âAt least my butt looks good.â
âYou do have a cute butt.â
âLook at your little feet!â He zoomed into your feet just barely in the upper right corner of the frame.
âNot for free!â Snatching the phone back, you lock it and toss it onto the bedside table.
âI was literally balls deep in you and youâre worried about me seeing your feet?â
âThatâs different!â
He rolled his eyes and untucked his arm from beneath your head to lay his own on your chest. âWhatever. Iâm not a big foot guy anyways.â
âThat thing poking my thigh says otherwise.â
âI canât even feel my dick right now, I have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âďž
tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky
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The Girl Who's Got Agoraphobia (Part Two)
Summary: You're the girl with agoraphobia Michael told Oliver about. You're known for not leaving your room much (obviously). But that doesn't stop Michael from checking on you.
Couple: Fem!Reader/Michael Gavey
Category: Flangst, friends to lovers
Word count: 1.4k
Also on my Ao3
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four
Dazzling Company
âItâs going to be bloody winter before you know it,â Michael said. âWe should go out and enjoy the sun while itâs here. Youâll love it,â he said. He had been wanting to go to the Christ Church Meadow for days, pestering you endlessly for three of them.Â
And, eventually, it worked.
The cows lumbered about in the meadow, minding themselves and barely looking up to see Michael spread an Oxford blanket out on the ground, smoothing it down meticulously. They didnât care that you were holding a tray of cupcakes, even though they looked delicious. They matched the blanket in Oxford colors: blue and silver. The two of you then sit, the cows and fence just to your right, his left. Michael messes with the clingfilm and releases the cupcakes in all their store-bought beauty.
âIâm not one to promote stress eating, but they looked nice in the shop.â
You sit on your knees at first, smoothing out your skirt as you do. Fresh air a surprisingly convenient distance away from your dorm room is what you needed. âItâs not that stressful being out here,â you admit. It wasnât a lie. The anxiety of potential disaster simmered when the fields came into view, long grass shielding your legs from the crisp autumn breeze. You take a blue cupcake. Itâs moist, and the icing isnât a cavity-inducing level of sweet.
Michaelâs face shifts with a smile, all teeth. Itâs adorable. âWhat was that I heard?â
You huff. âYou were right.â You shift to sit on the blanket fully, as the needles in your feet are slowly phasing to numbness.
Thereâs a little shimmy to Michaelâs shoulders as he basks in the admission. âKnew I would be.â He then takes a cupcake himself. A silver one (he has to keep the balance). âSo the cows are good company?â
âItâs easier to tell that they donât care weâre here. And I had to take your suggestion at some point.â
âSo does that mean youâll pick up Ulysses soon?â His brow arches as he playful pouts his lips.
You laugh, pointing at him with the same hand you held the cupcake in. âI never said that.â
âCome on,â he pushes you at the knee, making stray grass stick to your stockings. âGive the Irish a chance.â
âDonât make me sound like a Tory.â You push him back. âI donât have a working knowledge of 19th century Irish intellectualism to follow along.â
âIâll give you a reading list.â
âFuck off,â you snorted. âIâve got plenty to read. And so do you.â
âThen, Iâll read it to you and give you a detailed explanation of every reference made so you can understand completely.â
âAs long as itâs before bed so I have a soft place to land when Iâm inevitably put to sleep.â
âSounds like a date to me.â
You laugh again, but you also try to keep your blush to a minimum. Youâre not protected by the flattering candles of your dorm room. Itâs a bright afternoon with not a cloud in sight, easy to expose yourself. Michael is rarely one to tease you, but it still makes your nerves rattle inside. The pump to your heart youâre used to when something terrible is on the horizon, and not a yellow field with cattle and cupcakes. You inhale and exhale with purpose as you pray your heart has slowed. All because of bloody Ulysses? âThese are good,â you attempt to say plainly.
âGlad I chose wisely.â
âSometimes, you do.â Youâre not above teasing back, especially with Michael being (or needing to be) correct. Grounding him is essential at times, whether or not the heat of a crush looms over you. But for now, you both take pieces of grass to chuck toward the other when theyâre not expecting it.
The cows eventually get closer as the hour passes. The deep tone from their throats grows with them until one spots them and hangs his head over the fence. You didnât notice until you saw Michaelâs body jolt as he looked up. Youâre ecstatic with your visitor, and take the time to stand slowly before letting him sniff you. Small snot drops graze your knuckles.
âAn English Longhorn.â You say.
âOh.â
âA pretty one too.â
Itâs as if the bovine understands you. He nudges his head to rub your hand, and he soon invites you to scratch under his chin. You do so happily.
Michaelâs mouth is full of chocolate cupcake. A blue one this time. âIf I had known they would be this friendly, I wouldâve brought food for them as well.â
You fake a gasp as you look down at him. âYouâre telling me Oxfordâs certified genius, Michael Charles Gavey, did not consider the idea of cows wanting a snack?â
âI wasnât planning on spending time with the cows today.â
You crouch down to your tote, pulling out the paper bag, heavy with half sliced apples and some carrots. You shake it, and smirk at him. There was no way you could hide a smile completely, so this was your best chance. The cow enjoyed your one-up on him as well, smelling the outside of the bag.
âAnd using my middle name was unwarranted.â
âEvery genius has his weakness.â
The cow interrupts the conversation. Either from lack of scratches or snacks, itâs hard to tell. You make sure to please him with both by starting with half an apple, then stroking his cheeks as he chews. You can feel him crushing the apple with his teeth. Accordingly, you pet and coo whilst asking how delicious it was.
âYouâre a natural.â Michael says.
âA lot of my neighbors were farmers. They didnât mind when I fed them.â You bend down and grab a carrot. The longhorn exhales happily as he chews again. âDo you want to feed him?â
âYou seem to have a handle on it.â
Then another longhorn shows up. Heâs sneakier, introducing himself with only a huff. It startles you for a moment, but Michael jolts again. He shines in a beautiful shade of black with patches of brown that the afternoon sun reveals. When the first one finishes eating, you take a carrot to the other. The cow takes it after a sniff and doesnât protest when you scratch at his neck. He demands a bit more aggressively, with food and attention.
The other cow stomps a hoof into the dirt.
âI canât give them both love. Help me.â You hold out half an apple for him to take.
Michael does not reach out. He doesnât look at the cows, but the ground and feels the texture of the blanket between his fingers.
You keep the apple. You try to keep your tone light. âSo, Michael Charles Gavey is afraid of cows?â
âOnce again, the middle name is unwarranted.â
âCome and feed one.â
âNo.â
âCome on.â
âAbsolutely not.â
âYou pestered me about coming out here for days and you wonât even take advantage of this opportunity?â
âWe clearly have different definitions of opportunity.â
You make a tsk sound with your tongue. You stand on your ground. âI know cows, do I not?â
âYou do.â
âSo, do you think Iâd let anything happen to you?â
Michael stayed silent for a minute, briefly frozen in his stubbornness. But eventually he sighs as he says âNo.â He takes the apple from your hand after you help him up.
You urge Michael forward, but make him stick out his free hand first. âIntroduce yourself. Gently.â One hand is on his shoulder, the other around his forearm.
The cow turns his head as he sniffs.
The tension in his muscles under his arm is hard to ignore, but you push against his strength as the cow picks up the apple with his teeth, leaving nothing but some lines of spit on his open palm. He chokes as he cringes at the sight. âDisgusting.â
âDonât be so mean.â You pull out a pack of tissues from your tote as well, handing them over to the spit-sensitive weakling. âSee? You did well.â
âThanks.â Michael kept his hands behind his back after wiping them clean.
âWanna go again?â
He looked sheepishly at the paper bag, then the cows, who still hung their heads over the fence, surely aware that there was more to be had. âOkay.â
âYou donât have to, Michael.â
âNo. I should trust you. Iâve done it once already.â
âYou sure?â
Michael reaches into the bag, making the paper crinkle (and the cows more eager) as he pulls out one of the bigger carrots. He hesitates to hold out his hand, but you help him. He bites his lips close as he pushes through.
Taglist: @anukulee
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vinnie hacker X you, an ICY roadtrip KINKMAS 12
TW:smut rough sex/
you woke up, to a snowstorm, and decided that this was one of the greatest experiences ever to befall mankind. You loved snowstorms with all your heart. You were the kind of person who loved them even if they didnât look or feel particularly exciting; the kind of person who would rather get lost in their thoughts than watch the snow fall on someone else. but you also enjoyed winter and snow as a whole.
you got to reading a book and drinking some tea before you left for your roadtrip, vinnie was showering in a warm steamy bath, you had showered late last night so you decided not to shower again.
after you finished sipping your tea, you packed up the remaining stuff, vinnie had finished showers.
you had a short convo about the trip.
within the next couple of minutes you two got in the car and headed onto a nearby town, up in the moutains which was gonna be even colder.
"you look so cute in your jacket" said vinnie.
you blushed, you repiled "thank you and you look very handsome"
you listened to some kali uchis along the way, crossing many different cities.
untill you finally arrived at the town. it was beautiful their were so many shops and big trees with christmas lights all over them.
"hurry up vinnie lets go explore" you said with a excited voice.vinnie admired how cute you were when you were excited he loved you more then anything else in the world.
you both got off and started walking toward your new hotel, on the way you saw many trees with christmas lights, sometimes you would stop to snap a quick photo and share it on instagram.
"ooo look at that apparel shop"
you said, "wow⌠lets head on over Y/N"
you two entered as you saw amazing beanies, they were so cute. you found some cute mugs and decided to buy them, the entire store was made out of wood, it was nice and smelled fresh!! their were a lot of people, but the store design had a lot of room and rooms, to keep everyone from getting overwhelmed, like the hoodie section you saw, this store had 4 different hoodie sections, which seemed excessive to you, but it was smart, as it allowed people the opportunity to buy more.
after some more digging around you both decided to drive to your hotel, you got in the car, parked, now you were inside your hotel.
it had an aamzing view you made sure you werent too close to the main shopping are as you did not want noise disturbances.
you both got into a heated makeout session, vinnie loved you. he was tired, so you decided to give him an early gift.
but first, you took off all his clothe, gave him a kiss, as he sat on the bed.
"your so sexy" he said you blushed
however your make focus was giving him pleasure, you took of your clothe and slowly started to bob your head on his cock.
he let out a lengthy groan.
you smiled and went faster. he let out a moan enjoying this view of you somehow it made him feel powerful.
he gripped your hair as tight as he could as he started to shiver. "fuck fuck Y/N"
you could feel him as he was going to come undone.
you both moaned in unison as he came into your mouth.
"now relax vinnie lets sleep"
the two of you laid side by side, you turned on the heater and turned on the TV.
THE END
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This is part 2 of my Oathbound AU
Click here for part 1
I been working on this AU some more, as you can see. Above are the different forms that Impulse and Skizz can shift in-between. I just realized I forgot to add Skizz's scruff, please pretend he has it. Below has more details about forms, the environments they grew up it, and how this AU interacts with the Life Series.
--Forms--
Impulse prefers his human form. He works a lot with redstone and machinery so lots of tight spaces and moving parts. So while having horns and wings is cool those parts are more likely to get stuck or pinched.
Skizz prefers having at least his wings out. However, he doesn't like it when random people clock him as an angel. To remedy this, while he has his wings out he'll store his halo in his inventory. If anyone asks what type of hybrid he is, he'll just saying some type of white hawk. Impulse would say Skizz is a type of pigeon.
--Places--
So the places that Angels and Demons are form aren't new dimensions, but more like extensions to existing places. The placeholder names are The Upper and The Under. I thought about using the Aether name, but ultimately decided against it.
The Upper is a place far above the sky. Past the limit where fireworks refuse to ignite. Past the limit where elytra start to freeze and shatter. Past the limit where even the sturdiest avians refuse to go. That is where you'll find the angels.
The Upper is a very cold land. Water isn't a thing up there only ice. However, it's no winter wonderland given that it's much too cold to snow. Angels are built for this type of environment, because while they can eat food most of their energy comes from light. Shelter and tools are made from stone and wood-like materials. Although most angels are perfectly fine just finding a nice, flat, floating rock and sleeping on that. The air up there is very still and quiet.
The Under is a place far below the Nether. Beneath the lava lakes of the Nether, in netherrack that is partially baked from the intense heat and weight, you'll find the demons.
The Under is a very hot land. Winding tunnels and caverns that were dug out connecting with chaotically formed ravines all of which is only lit by lava that has snuck through the cracks. Demons are mostly fire proof, because of this they are able to crawl up from the lava lakes are search for food on the Nether floor. There are things they can eat in The Under, but almost all Demons prefer the stuff from the slightly above. The tunnels are often quite noisy.
If it wasn't clear: The Upper is above the overworld, The Under is in below the Nether.
--Who did the Oath first?--
This was answered in the comments of part 1, but I also wanted to put it here.
So if you asked them directly they would probably give you a different answer time. 1: because it's very personal 2: because it's funny. So what actually happened is both Skizz and Impulse thought of the idea independently, but it was Skizz who brought up it up first. However it was Impulse who did the oath first. Of course it took multiple years for him to psyche himself up to do it, not because he didn't trust Skizz, he was just very nervous about it.
Impulse is also just a "tiny" bit competitive and wanted to go against the demon stereotypes. While Skizz would've preferred it to happen sooner and was will to go first, he understood that this was important to impulse. He does have fun needling Impulse that it took him soooooo long, but it's all in good fun
--Life Series--
I personally like seeing that the Life Series started as a fun hardcore series that turned into a death game due to outside forces. Impulse and Skizz (in their human forms) understand that things are going wrong when the second game starts. While everyone's hybrid abilities are being suppressed by the outside force so no one get too much of an advantage. Yes, they could brute force it by going Eclipse mode and getting everyone out they don't know if that would help in the long run. I mean what if it happens again but since they outsiders how of their powers they don't take Impulse and Skizz and the two of them completely lose track of their freinds?
So they settle for trying to pick up clues and win at least one of the games...
....
...
.... why are they so bad at this ....
(though it sounds like angst, it's probably going to end up as a comedy if I'm going to be honest...)
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Closed Until Further Notice
Oh my god this was WAY longer than anticipated and I wasn't planning on making it like spicy, but it's been a while so I threw some at the very end ;) this is Eris x Cafe Owner ! Reader / trope, it was very cute so I hope I captured the idea well enough for the anon who requested it!
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings: Cursing, Smut
Eris wouldnât say he frequented the small towns scattered throughout the Autumn Courts, nothing more than a yearly visit or two, normally just for an inspection called upon by his father. He usually came on horseback, flanked by his soldiers in their shining armor, and strolled through the town for a quick survey. He nodded politely, quick to make his way through the town without disturbing any of the residents. No matter how nice he was, how civil and respectful he was, they still cowered from him - hid in their homes and shut their shop doors when he passed through.
But there was one town, nestled just past the forest in the valley of the mountains right before the Winter Court, that Eris took his time visiting. Thatâs exactly what it was, in fact: a visit, not an inspection - no surveillance, no prying. He traveled there alone, winnowing to the outskirts of the village, taking his time walking down the main street. Stores and homes littered the dirt road, nearly frozen solid from the Winter wind that blew across the border; he walked along the stone sidewalk, past the brick houses and the shops built up from the redwood trees.Â
At the center of the town stood the bakery, a hand painted sign that spelled it out in fine script. The chalkboard was propped open on the walkway, the specials written in swirly cursive. Eris bit the inside of his cheek to hide the smile that crawled up his lips, eyeing the Topfenstrudel youâd written no doubt early this morning - probably before heâd even woken up. Youâd listed a few teas below it, fruit sauces, and spices to pair it with.Â
Eris wouldnât admit to it, but heâd patroned it more than the other little towns. It started once a year, just like everywhere else, but turned quarterly - monthly, even - after he visited your bakery. Small and tucked away, next to a butcherâs shop on one side and a bookstore on the other, your cafe was lined with tables and plush chairs, golden faelights and fresh flowers strewn across the space.Â
He slipped through the door quickly, trying not to let out the heat from the small fire in the hearth beside the counter. âGood morning,â you called from the back kitchen, not visible from the doorway. âIâll be with you in a minute!â Eris hummed in response, throwing a tiny ring of fire at the dimming flame. He noted the heat immediately, a welcome shiver down his spine at the feeling. He shook off the cold, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing a few steps around the cafe.Â
He had half a mind to bring you flowers this time - though, heâd been telling himself that the past three visits. His mother had clipped some hydrangeas from her garden, had them laid out along the long table in her drawing room. He should have just swiped a few, winnowed out before she would even notice, but he thought against it, didnât want to make you uncomfortable or think he was trying something.Â
Not that he wasnât, necessarily - he should - gods, he wanted to. But the only thing you knew about him was that he was the High Lordâs son, he didnât want to accept your advances because you felt like you had to.Â
You popped around the corner, stopping in front of the counter wiping your hands on your apron. Your mouth opened and shut quickly, eyes wide at the sight of him. But he didnât miss the blush that crawled up your cheeks, the small flustered smile when his fiery gaze met yours. âOh - I didnât - sorry to keep you waiting,â you said, shaking your head slightly.Â
Eris smiled and relaxed his shoulders. âI wasnât, donât worry.â Heâd counted down each minute - all forty-four thousand of them - until he saw you again.Â
âYouâre early,â you replied, pressing your hands against the counter, shuffling the random pile of papers before you.
He shrugged, eyes falling to the counter, watching how you moved the papers, each scrawled with a different recipe or note, and pushed them to the side. âLong day ahead - I wanted to make sure I got the strudel before you ran out.âÂ
The High Lordâs son typically came closer to closing, when just a few customers lingered around. Some ducked out quickly, afraid of the tall maleâs presence; others stayed, tucked away in the dimly lit corners of the cafe, watching the handsome male from just over the rim of their coffee up. He usually ordered a tea - something chamomile or tisane - along with a pastry or two, and always tried the daily special.Â
But you opened at six in the morning, and Eris strolled in just three minutes past.Â
âThen what else can I get for you, Eris?â He almost melted on the spot - his name dripped like honey off your lips. Youâd exchanged names and gotten past formalities a few months ago, when youâd started greeting him more like a friend than the High Lordâs son.Â
He figured heâd never get anywhere with you if he kept lingering around the bakery before closing, when your neighbors sat watching his every move.Â
âIâll have a coffee, please.â You quirked a brow at the male, surprised at the change in order, though you supposed it was too early for a sleepy tea.Â
You watched him ruffle around in his pocket for some change, the heavy gold coins shaking in his hand. He dipped his head to count the money, you watched the red locks of hair fall over his brow. You tipped your head back to look up at him, watch the fireâs shadows dance over his carved cheekbones, kissing his straight nose.Â
You were able to see him clearly in the morning light; you could count the freckles across his cheeks, and oh how you longed to. He looked so different at night, when the sun was gone and the only light came from the red fire and amber faelights, as well as his glowing eyes. âAnd how do you take your coffee?â You watched his throat work, his eyes roam over your features.Â
Eris pressed his tongue behind his teeth. âHow you take yours.âÂ
âMilk and sugar?â You hummed, raising your brow, smiling at the male. While he savored the sweets you served him, you would have assumed he went for the more bitter taste.Â
To be fair, he did. He just wanted to know how you liked yours, should he ever have the chance to make it for you himself.Â
Preferentially in his bed.Â
And nude.Â
âMilk and sugar,â he replied with a small nod but a broad smile.Â
Your eyes flitted between him and the mess on the counter in front of you - yet his red eyes never left yours, his gaze burning into you. You couldnât help but blush, the heat emitted from his body calling to you, for you to throw yourself into him and feel his arms around you. The chill from the Winter Court was strong that morning, youâd wanted nothing more than to linger around the warm ovens all morning. But the cafe felt warmer, like it always did when he visited; you werenât sure if it was his fire powers or just him.Â
How much you wanted to touch him.Â
âComing right up.â You offered him a smile before trotting off to the kitchen, setting the grounds up over the set of mugs. âMake yourself comfortable.â
Your voice carried quietly from the back kitchen, just audible above the cracking fire. Erisâs eyes swiped around the cafe, over the small tables and iron chairs, never having seen the shop empty before. But he took a seat against the window, the seats shrouded with pillows with stacks of books adorning the tabletop. Your scent lingered across the space, bright and fruity with a hint of cinnamon.Â
He tried not to stare at the counter across the shop, watch and wait for you to appear in the doorway to return. Eris tried to busy himself, glancing at each of the plants hanging from baskets, the flowers that he tried to remember, the sound of his mother reciting each name in the back of his mind.Â
You piled the mugs and plates on a small wooden tray and made your way back to the tiny dining area, weaving through the tables to meet him in the corner. His thick brows raised in surprise as he noticed the amount of goodies on the tray, scrambling to stand and take it from you. But you shooed him off, setting everything down between you and ushering him to sit when you took the seat across from him.Â
You never thought youâd meet a member of Autumn royalty, let alone one that fretted over you carrying a small try and who stood whenever you entered the room.Â
âThank you, (Y/N),â he said, quietly, almost unsure of how the word was supposed to sound - like it was foreign. But your pointed ears flexed, unable to miss the small sentiment, no matter how unusual it tasted on his tongue, he was trying.Â
âYouâre welcome, Eris,â you replied simply, handing him a mug, taking the matching one for yourself. There were a couple strudels on a plate, paired with a bowl of fruit, and some macaroons, a couple pumpkin tarts fresh from the oven on the side.Â
He noticed how you pulled your strudel in half, how your shoulders shrugged slightly when you tasted it, the warm dough relaxing the cold chill that stiffened your spine. You couldnât help but watch his hands work before you, pulling apart his pastry, just as you did, how he picked up the coffee cup loosely in those long fingers, pale knuckles and veins lining his big hands. You cradled your own mug in both hands, half needing the warmth from the side of the cup, the other half needing the grasp on reality, keeping you grounded - keeping your mind from wandering too far.Â
His gaze washed over you, watching as you zoned out, staring into the space between you. âWere you here early this morning?âÂ
You blinked once, twice, trying to pull your eyes away from the maleâs hands. âYeah.â You huffed a laugh, sipping from the much needed coffee. âI start baking at four - got here at three though.â You eyed the pastry heâd picked up. âThese were a bit more difficult than what I usually try for.â
âItâs excellent,â he said, taking a bite of the flaky pastry. âVery much worth the extra time, in my opinion.â
âIâm glad you came today.â Erisâs red eyes sparkled at your words, he felt the fire roar through his veins and crawl up his cheeks.Â
Me too. He ached; wanted to find out everything about you, about your life, what you liked and what you didnât, your family, what made you tick, what made you smile, how you tasted, how youâd look in his bed, on his lap.Â
But before the male could even think of a response, the door swung open, followed by a gust of wind. Your eyes shot to the door immediately, assessing who came in, interrupting (what Eris believed to be, at least) a pleasant conversation.Â
âGood morning, Mrs. Aldrich,â you greeted the old female, bundled up in her coat and wrapped in what looked like two scarves. Your eyes dropped to Eris once more as you pushed yourself from the table, sauntering off to the counter to serve her.Â
But Eris decided to only wait a few moments longer, downing the rest of his coffee and finishing the treats on the table before stacking the bowls and plates. He ran his hands over the sides of his corduroy pants, unsure of whether to bring them to you in the kitchen, whether he should even go out of his way to say goodbye. He felt the Fae female staring at him, too afraid to say anything, but watching his every move. So he buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave before anyone else could come to the cafe to study him.Â
He turned to the female, offering his a polite bow of his head in greeting, which she returned with a small curtsey. âBye Eris,â you called, poking your head around the corner from the kitchen, arms working to tie a white apron around your waist.Â
His eyes found yours, sparkling in the morning light that shines from the front windows. âBye (Y/N), thanks again.â He offered you a smile before he ducked out the short front door.Â
Eris felt Mrs. Aldrichâs eyes move back and forth between the two of you.Â
_________________________
The next time he came by, it was still just as cold and just as early. He tried to take his time walking to the shop, but he couldnât slow himself down - his hands itched, flexing at his sides, simmering with heat that poured out of him. The pocket watch in the front of his jacket told him he was a few minutes early, so he lingered along the cobblestones, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk.Â
The lights in the cafe were on, but the specials sign was missing and the Closed sign hung across the green door. He chewed on his bottom lip, shoving his hands inside his pockets and turning on his heel. He thought maybe he should just leave, not wait around like a creep, and solicit the peaceful town.Â
âEris?âÂ
The maleâs head lifted as he turned over his shoulder, meeting your soft smile. He lifted a hand to run through his messy red hair, pushing it away from his eyes. âHey (Y/N), good morning,â he stumbled over his words, too focused on his racing heart - beating almost as rapidly as the first day he saw you.Â
You held the door open with your foot - the tip of your brown boot covered in flour, as the hem of your skirt was - and moved to pull the chalkboard through the door. The High Lordâs son pulled it from your hands, grabbing it easily with on and moving it as though it weighed nothing. He fixed it up on the sidewalk before turning to you with a smile. âApricot sachertorte?â
You beamed at him, proud of your newest sweet treat, and propped your hands on your hips. You almost didnât notice the Winter Court chill seeping through your clothes. You felt the heat he emitted, centuries of fire burning through him, drawing you to him. âYou like chocolate, no?â
Eris ushered you inside, noting your missing coat when his eyes drew up and down your body. The dress you wore was thin, tight. Dusted with ingredients and a messy apron. He swallowed, forced some air into his lungs, and forced himself to not stare when you led him inside. âI have a certain weakness when it comes to chocolate.â And you.Â
He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself - how his father would have killed him for even making a joke about having a terminal flaw. But heâd developed enough of a friendship that heâd actually made you laugh, and it was a sound heâd say nearly anything to hear it again.Â
âPerfect then, take a seat and Iâll get some coffee for us.â Eris sighed in sweet relief, thanking you for saving him from having to ask you to sit with him again.Â
You were quick to return with two mugs and two plates, one exceptionally large slice of the torte accompanied by a smaller one. He was quick to help you, settling into the table across from the fireplace. Youâd hummed when you sat down, relaxing into the iron chair, and the male couldnât help but wonder if it was the first time youâd sat down all morning. You drank your coffee like it came from the Mother herself, savoring the rich taste. âThis is probably the fourth cup Iâve had this morning.âÂ
Eris wasnât surprised. He was in the same boat himself, actually. He hadnât been able to sleep all last night, not with the anticipation of seeing you. Heâd forced his night owl of a brother to spar with him, tire himself out wielding the heavy steel sword. Heâd fussed over battle plans and boring court papers. When that didnât work, heâd even found himself in the kitchen, attempting what was intended to be a galette. When that didnât work out, he gave up and laid in bed for a few more hours. He was tired, sure, but couldnât fall asleep.Â
âYou ought to take a day off, sleep in,â he replied, taking a bite of the layered chocolate cake. Gods, if that was the last meal heâd eat, heâd be beyond satisfied.Â
You shrugged, finger tracing the rim of your cup. âI could⌠but I just love it too much - even if I have to wake up early for it.â Eris nodded along. âBesides, what if you came by the shop and I was closed?â
He shifted in his chair, trying to settle the burn in his chest. âYouâre right - â he tried to play it off casually. âI wouldnât know what to do with myself without your pastries.â Another job well done, he cursed himself.Â
You smiled sweetly, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your head against your knuckles. âSo tell me, Eris. Whatâs on todayâs agenda? I can hardly believe you came all this way just for coffee and chocolate.âÂ
Oh how wrong you were. Heâd go to the ends of Prythian just to spend one moment with you.Â
âTaking care of some errands for my father,â he began, not interested in divulging too much. You understood, and simply nodded along, taking whatever heâd be willing to give out. âI have a meeting in the Winter Court.âÂ
âAh, just a stop along the way, then.â He wasnât sure if he heard faint disappointment laced in your voice, or if it was just what heâd been hoping to hear.Â
âWell - yes, butâŚâ It was one of those rare moments where Eris didnât know what to say. âBut I wish I could come more - I donât want to bother you. I know a lot of your customers are uneasy when I stop by - â
You cut him off, sitting straight in your chair. âYouâre not - I love when you visit, Eris.â You fought against all your instincts to reach across the table and grab his hand.Â
It was his turn to blush. Maybe he was overheating, what with all the layers and sitting in front of the fire. Or perhaps it was your bright eyes staring at him, burning into him, starting straight into the depths of his soul. âI wish I could stay longer, Iâd like to - â
But that godsdamned door opened again, a group of Fae walked in, conversation abruptly stopping when they noticed the fiery-haired male sitting at the table across from you. Eris stood in one swift motion, abandoning his fork and empty plate behind him. He noticed the young female that walked in, orange hair wild around her ears, starting straight at you, wiggling her eyebrows.Â
When he tossed a look over his shoulder at you, he saw your pink cheeks, chin tucked close to your chest. âYour highness,â one of the males began, bowing to Eris.
His friend smacked him in the chest, grimacing at his friendâs actions. âShut up.â
Another female interrupted all of them, smiling broadly at Eris. âGood morning, sir,â she said sweetly, dipping slightly in greeting.Â
Eris had never felt more awkward in his life. Heâd been trained in court politics, to lead armies, to host High Lord meetings on behalf of his father, to speak in front of hundreds of Fae. But never to talk with teenage Fae.Â
âGood morning,â he replied as politely as he could, shifting his weight from foot to foot. But he recalled his courtier training, standing tall and holding his chin high.Â
He got a small confidence boost though, as the other males tilted their heads back to look up at him, and cowered a few steps backward. And although Eris was normally cocky enough to have loved to inflict that kind of response on others, it wasnât what he should be displaying in front of a female he was trying to impress.Â
âI have to be getting on my way, (Y/N),â he finished, turning back to look at you. âThanks for the coffee.â He smirked, watching as you glared at your friend - the one whose eyes kept flitting between you and the High Lordâs son.Â
Your attention was drawn back to Eris and he threw a wink your way before he left the cafe. Â
_________________________
He winnowed back just after the sun had set, when the chill from the mountains was visible in each breath he took. Eris appeared right in front of your shop door, where the lights were dimmed and the sign on the door read Closed.Â
Fuck, heâd cursed himself, fifteen minutes late. Heâd rushed back as fast as he could, after having spent the day in the Winter Court, useless meetings with Kallias and his staff. Eris had nearly run out of the meeting room, winnowing before heâd even left the table and made it close to the door.Â
But youâd spotted him, the brown wool coat and dark red hair from the window. You almost skipped to the door, something between a hop and a half-jog, making your way to the door before heâd off and disappeared again. âEris, wait!â Youâd called, unlocking the door and poking your head through.Â
He smiled when he turned around, meeting you in the doorway. You held a broom in your hand, obviously close to leaving for the evening. No matter how tired you were, there was no doubt in his mind that youâd had a busy day, you still greeted him with a cheery smile.Â
âI just wanted to,â he began, digging his hand through his pocket and pulling out a handful of gold coins. âFor this morning.âÂ
You shook your head, but took his wrist in your hand, pulling him through the door. Your fingers sparked when you felt his warm skin against yours. âYou visiting is quite enough - â
Eris groaned, wishing youâd held onto him for just a little bit longer. âI donât need special treatment.â
You rolled your eyes. âI canât be nice to you anymore, Eris?â
He smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim faelight. âAre you being nice to me or being nice to my family?âÂ
He watched you tut, giving him an indiscreet up and down. It almost made him nervous. âJust you.â And Eris smiled at that, his own selfishness getting the best of him, but glad you had invited him in. âI like when you visit. You donât do it enough.âÂ
Youâd set the broom against the table, hands clasped in front of you trying your damnedest not to look like a giddy child in a candy shop. Eris glowed, watching your movements, daring to see how much else youâd reveal to him.Â
Eris was too busy staring at you, committing every feature of yours to memory, to respond. âHow about some tea?â You asked, already making your way to the kitchen.Â
âPlease,â he nearly sighed, and no matter how happy and excited he was to be back at your bakery, he was still beat from a day of Winter Court bullshit.Â
You disappeared only momentarily, returning just after youâd set the kettle over the stovetop, with two mugs in hand. You set them on the table by the window, the seats both cushioned with freshly fluffed pillows. Eris joined you, eyeing the loose tea leaves at the bottom of the cups, a mixture of chamomile flowers, linden leaves, and peppermint.Â
He smiled gratefully, seeing your body relax once youâd slid into the chair across from him. âYou like it here?â Eris couldnât help but ask. You seemed to work yourself into exhaustion, rising before the sun, staying past dusk, holed away in the quaint cafe. It was a small town, too far from the other Autumn villages to easily visit - though, he supposed there would be plenty of adventure in the woods beyond and the mountains between Winter. That ought to be dangerous, especially given the fact that if Beron found out about his subjects crossing the border, heâd outright banish or kill them.Â
You smiled back at the High Lordâs son, him looking equally as tired as you must have. Light purple lined the tops of his cheekbones, starkly contrasting his otherwise luminous pale skin. His brows were taught, pulled together as if really contemplating your answer - or perhaps overthinking his question. Heâd forgotten his coat on the back of his chair, a dark blazer underneath. His eyes glowed, his red irises burning brighter as the light from the windows faded.
âI do,â you hummed, content with your little date.Â
But the screeching of the kettle interrupted you, and right as you placed your hands on the table to push yourself up, Eris stopped you. âLet me, please.â Before you could even respond, he was already on his feet, rushing off into the back kitchen to pull the kettle off.
He returned with the kettle in one hand and a bottle of honey in the other. He poured your cup first and then his, setting the hot water to the side. Surely, should you let him stay long enough, it would be easy enough for him to reheat later.Â
âYou were saying?â He continued, eyes locked on the mug before him, dropping in a swirl of honey to his tea.Â
You bit your lip, pushing your mug closer to him. His eyes flitted up to you once before he repeated the action. âI like it here. Itâs small - I know all of my customers by now. All of their names, their orders, itâs like a little family.âÂ
Eris nodded along, leaning back in his chair. âNo problems with the Winter Court?âÂ
You rolled your eyes. I have more problems with the current court, if we were being honest. âItâs cold,â you replied. âItâs quiet. But far away enough that we arenâtâŚâ You bit your tongue. âNot that thereâs anything wrong with - â
âYou donât have to lie to me,â Eris replied, not shocked with your response. âI understand.â
Just like any other Fae on the continent, he reminded himself: scared of his father. He wasnât surprised, this would be the perfect town to escape Beronâs tight holds. It wasnât close enough that he kept it under his nose, monitoring the town and the villagers. It wasnât particularly useful to him - no major crops or orchards, maybe lumber from the redwoods, but there were far closer regions he could busy himself with.Â
But he saw how quickly your brows raised and cheeks turned red at your comment. It was almost as if youâd forgotten he was the High Lordâs son up until that moment.Â
Eris was ashamed to carry the Vanserra name.Â
He finished off his tea, suddenly uncomfortable with keeping you so late. Maybe the reason you were so nice to him was because of who his father was. You were hosting him out of formality, not friendship or desire - you were probably afraid heâd go running back to the Forest House with your name at the top of his list.Â
You reached a hand out to him, watching his lips turn into a frown and his brows narrow as he lost himself in thought. âThatâs not what I meant.âÂ
âIf there is anyone who gets it, (Y/N), believe me - I do.â He took a long sip from the mug in his hand, set it down silently, and pushed himself from the seat. His hands fumbled over his coat, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it shut. âI donât want to keep you any longer - Iâve intruded quite enough.â He turned to the door, to avoid watching you awkwardly scramble to your feet. The sky was dark, the only light along the street was the glow from the faelights in the windows of the houses along the way. He turned back on his heel to face you, staring up at him, bewildered. âCan I at least walk you home?â
You pressed your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you. âI live upstairs, actually.â
âAh.â It was all that came from him, which left the male cursing himself once more. Fucking idiot. âWell thank you again, (Y/N).â Back to formalities, back to square one.Â
You nodded once more, watching as he turned to the door. As he reached for the handle, you stopped him, grabbing his other hand. His skin was burning hot and sent sparks into you. âYouâre welcome anytime here, Eris.â You waited until he turned around, fully acknowledging your words. âAnd not just because of who your father is.âÂ
Eris nodded, albeit a bit numbly, as you sent his mind reeling the moment he felt your fingers grasp his. Should I do it?
He wanted to kiss you so badly. So badly that his fingers itched to grab you and pull you against him. You batted your eyelashes at him, all innocent as if you had no idea what you were doing. Maybe you werenât doing anything - no signals, no invitation to kiss you, love you, fuck you.Â
It was all in his head, it had to be.Â
He couldnât compromise your innocence, not when heâd already been seen alone in the cafe with you twice in one day. He could only imagine what the other Fae were thinking, how heâd either besmirched your reputation or created a scandal in the small town.Â
âThen Iâll be sure to return more often.â With that, he gave your fingers a squeeze and turned - forcing every fiber of his being not to take you with him.Â
_________________________
Eris couldnât sleep again. Gods, he felt ill.Â
He was clammy all over - absolutely disgusting. Heâd forced himself from bed and into the bath, letting the cold water wash over him and take away whatever it was he was feeling. His heart was racing out of his chest, his breathing was jagged - it was unlike any other fever heâd had.Â
And then he felt it, laying in the cold water of the porcelain tub. It felt like a rubber band snapped against his ribcage. It winded him, had him lurching forward and clutching his chest. He figured the copper taste in his mouth was a figment of his imagination, being no stranger to the taste of blood. Maybe he bit his tongue when he felt the snap, it had his heart lurching upwards into his scarred throat.Â
Erisâs fingers gripped the edge of the cold bathtub - he felt the water turning hotter by the second. He couldnât control the heat that emitted from his body, the simmering flames smothered in his palms.Â
That was it.
That was it.Â
He wasnât dying - not if you could call being utterly grossly in love dying.Â
His heart hammered in his chest and the fire roared through his veins. It felt like he was suffocating, sure, but it felt good. His hands were shaking, and he knew the only cure would be to have you in them. You were the one who could teach him how to breathe again.
He huffed a long shaky breath, leaning back in the tub until his back touched the now warm ceramic. Curls of steam began to dance on the surface of the water that seemed to be rippling in time with his heartbeat.Â
Eris shut his eyes, trying his damndest to clear his head, to calm the fuck down. But all he saw was you, the flour that dusted your cheek, the apron wrapped so tight around your waist he wished it were his hands. He thought of your cheeks, rosy and red from the ovens, your plump lips sipping on tea, how sweet you looked drinking your milky coffee. Then he remembered the shape of your brow, how it quirked downwards when youâd mentioned his father, how you gnawed on that bottom lip of yours when heâd been in such a rush to leave.Â
But it didnât matter what you thought of his father, of the whole damned Autumn Court itself. Heâd get on his knees before you to beg, plead for you to understand - itâs not his fault, itâs not him.Â
So thatâs what he set off to do.Â
He pushed himself from the near boiling water, haphazardly drying himself off as he skitted to the wardrobe. He flung it open, opting for a casual pair of brown trousers and a white linen shirt. He ought to be prepared to do a lot of begging, spending the whole morning on his knees begging for you to accept him as a mate, begging for a taste.Â
_________________________
It was only seven hours since youâd seen Eris, the whole time youâd spent thinking of him and replaying your latest conversation. It was very much the same after each time youâd seen him, spending the evening tossing and turning, picturing his red hair and soft smile, the freckles over his cheeks and that little scar under his eye. You imagined what it would be like to hold him in your arms, laying on top of you, suffocating you in the best way; you pictured what itâd be like for him to hold you, laying behind you, arms wrapped fully around you, holding you against his chest.Â
But you laid in bed alone, staring at the clock until the golden hands ticked to three oâclock.Â
You pushed the covers from yourself, shivering at the cold that swept through your bones. Youâd gotten better at fighting that fight, the urge to stay in bed and revel in your warmth instead of forcing yourself downstairs at such an early hour. The warm ovens called to you, but youâd have to overcome the chill of the nearly Winter air and the cold hardwood floor.Â
You wondered if it would be warmer with Eris there. As if the male just naturally heated every room he walked into -Â
No.Â
You shook your head, trying to rid the thoughts of the Autumn heir from your mind. Youâd only distract yourself. You knew the visit yesterday would have to last you for the rest of the month. You could only begin to count down the days until you anticipated his return.Â
So instead, you shuffled down the stairs, pulling open your recipe book and setting out a few bowls. You hadnât decided the day before what you were making yet - not like you usually did. Your mind had been much too occupied. You settled on figuring it out later, just starting with something simple and figuring out a custard later. With flour dusting the counter, you rolled out some dough, working it until it was so thin that it was almost transparent. A simple croissant surely would do, youâd thought. Maybe you could use up some of the pumpkin or raspberriesâŚ
Youâd gone rifling around for inspiration when you felt a shiver down your spine. It wasnât the cold of the early morning, nor the chill from the produce cooler. No - it was the hard knock on the door, rattling the closed sign against the wooden frame.Â
You bit your lip, debating wiping out all the Faelights - that no doubt alerted whoever was outside that you were in. But you had no choice, as the knock sounded again, softer this time, but still enough to prove your visitorâs determination to talk to you.Â
Not once in your centuries of owning the cafe had you had a morning visitor. Nobody had ever shown up before opening, especially not at three in the godsdamned morning.
All you could do was grab your stone rolling pin from the counter, holding it between your two shaky hands as you trotted quietly to the door. But as you stepped around the counter and wove through the tables, youâd spotten a tuft of red hair through the window.Â
Red hair, pale skin, long coat, the smell of firewood and burnt sage.Â
Your heart stuttered, pure shock replaced with utter bewilderment. Your throat tightened, nervous as to what he may be visiting for - what you may have said that offended him. Then you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the thick cotton dress you wore, the wool sock on your feet. Fuck, you huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. The Mother could not have prepared you less.Â
All you could do was pull the door open, holding the rolling pin behind your back.Â
And when the door swung open, the cold coming in immediately, Erisâs eyes were blown wide. The red around his dilated pupils glowing against the dark of night. Gods you were so fucking beautiful. His gaze roamed over your messy hair, the loose dress that hung over your shoulders, the cozy looking socks on your feet.Â
âHey,â he said, quieter than intended. He cleared his throat, stepping closer, arms tightly pressed behind his back. âSorry to - interrupt.â He couldnât stop - his eyes were roaming, frantically moving between yours, trying not to wander over your body, his mind was reeling, heart was pounding out of his chest. His cheeks were flushed, breathing ragged - the bond was fucking with him. Absolutely fucking with him - he wasnât even sure if heâd be able to stand in front of you much longer without having to get his hands on you. âI regretted leaving so abruptly last night. I stayed late and should have at least helped you clean up.â
You smiled. He was so serious. Those red eyebrows were raised, mouth parted, almost frowning at the corners - so distraught. âDonât make a fuss about it - I just like your company.â I miss when youâre not here. I miss your visits.Â
I missed you.Â
The corner of his mouth turned up, gaze softening at your apparent forgiveness. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. He moved his arm from behind his back, holding up a bundle of blue-ish hydrangeas - the flowers he hadnât stopped thinking about bringing you.Â
It wasnât inconspicuous, like he hoped it would be. His mother caught on immediately, asking him why he kept inquiring about her flowers, what sheâd pulled from the garden. Who are you bringing them for? Heâd rolled his eyes at her, scoffing. Iâm not bringing them to anyone, mother. I canât show interest in the garden? So heâd been deterred from bringing them. He didnât want to draw attention to it - to you - especially not from his father or courtiers.Â
Until that night - until he had the perfect opportunity, when everyone was asleep, to snatch them from the table and winnow straight to you.
Your eyes fell to the bunch of flowers, jaw dropped, unable to speak. What did you say? What does one say to the High Lordâs son who brings you flowers. He brought you flowers. You simply couldnât find the words. But when you looked back up at him, having to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze, he looked so scared - unsure if youâd accept them, as if heâd made some horrible mistake.Â
And you couldnât help but laugh, having to bite your lip to stop yourself. You didnât take the flowers, you took his hand, that warm, blazing hot hand, and pulled him inside. âWell, no point in letting all the heat out.â And as if on cure, he lit up, warmth erupting from him, his chest radiating heat into your hand and arm. âThank you, Eris, I⌠donât even know what to say.â You pulled your fingers away from his, taking the bunch of flowers in your free hand.
But you had to place the rolling pin down, having to set it on the table closest to the door. His brows rose. âPreparing for battle, I see.â He surveyed the white stone, nodding his head in approval when he heard the clang of the marble against the iron table.Â
You huffed a breathy laugh, ushering him inside and placing them in one of the empty vases from the bookshelf in the corner. Youâd set it up on the counter, where everyone would be able to see the beautiful flowers Eris had brought for you. âI was hoping,â he began from behind you, hands shoved into his pants pockets, boot kicking at the thick grout between the stones on the floor. âYou might let me help you this morning.â
You turned on your heel, spinning around so fast that youâd nearly startled the normally steadfast male. âYou want to help me?â
He nodded. âIâm not very useful - I wouldnât say Iâm the best baker.â He held his hands up in surrender. âI used to help my mother bake apple pie but - â he finished with a shrug, laughing through his own awkwardness.Â
You couldnât stop your smile. âOf course you can, Eris.âÂ
And truth be told, the male wasnât bad. Heâd kneaded the dough, heâd prepared the raspberry filling, and even mixed some fresh whipped cream. Heâd followed all your instructions and even prepared you a cup of tea in the meantime, while you worked on your own dough at the opposite side of the counter.Â
Youâd spent far too long watching his hands knead the soft pastry, his long fingers and large knuckles flexing as he pushed the dough around. Heâd rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt, forearms working with each move. You couldnât help but notice the few missed buttons at the top of his shirt, pale collar bones peeking out. Youâd made out some ridges over his skin, down his neck and tucked away underneath the fabric of his shirt. You couldnât get a good look at it, not with the dimmed lights and loose shirt.Â
He made light conversation, asking about the town, who your favorite patrons were. Youâd asked him similar questions, how he likes fencing and polo, heâd indulged you in some childhood stories of wrestling his brothers in the Autumn rain - how theyâd tracked mud through the entirety of the Forest House. When it came to his parents, though, the topic was off limits, as heâd scoffed and asked about your parents instead.Â
By then, the hours had easily slipped past you - the pastries cooling after their bout in the ovens. Eris leaned against the counter, watching as you sliced the baked pumpkin you held in front of you, scooping the soft contents into a bowl to begin your filling mixture.Â
His eyes watched your hands work, unable to meet your eyes, afraid of your response. âI have a confession.âÂ
You looked up only momentarily, not a stutter in the whisk as you continued mixing. âConfess away,â you replied softly, heart suddenly lurching into your chest.Â
He swallowed thickly, but raised his gaze to your face - your focused look - as you stared back down at the bowl. âI - last night after I left - there was aâŚâ He trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. âI felt theâŚâ Erisâs throat was closing. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that he thought it would break all of his ribs. âI believe weâre mates, (Y/N).â
Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly all air evaded you and your heart seemed to stop. Mates? Mates? Gods, you knew you liked Eris - who wouldnât? The male was beautiful and tall and kind and -
You swallowed hard. To hide your shaking hands, you continued working on the pastries. You kept you eyes sole trained on the table in front of you, fearful that if you looked up, if you saw those red eyes before you, that youâd surely crumble away in a fit of tears, laughter - you werenât quite sure.
You were elated.
So fucking elated, in fact, that you didnât know what to do.
But you didnât respond. You didnât make a move - not an eyebrow raise, not a quirk of your lips, nothing. âI know we donât really know each other - Iâve wanted to stay longer, believe me.â The male rambled on, filling the silence youâd offered. âI just felt this thing last night after I left and itâs been eating me away since and I already knew that I cared for you so much and youâre so - fuck, so godsdamned beautiful but I - â
You straightened, pulling your shoulders back and dropping the whisk. âItâs okay, Eris.â
His eyes widened. âItâs okay?â What the fuck did that mean?
Youâd turned to grab a pastry off the rack - the one youâd kneaded, the one that turned out so much flakier and taller than his. âItâs okay.â You smiled, though, but didnât falter in your movements, continuing to assemble what looked like a dessert sandwich.Â
He stared incredulously at you. âDid you⌠hear what I said?âÂ
And so you laughed, a light giggle that had Eris reeling. You pushed over the pumpkin Mille-Feuille, nodding at him as he stared at it like it was otherworldly. âYou told me one time you liked the pumpkin turnovers because it was your favorite Autumn Court fruit.â
The male was bug-eyed. âThis is for me?â
You nodded.
âJust for me?â
Again, with a smile, you nodded.Â
Eris looked between you and the fluffy pastry. âFor me?â He raised a hand and gestured between the two of you.Â
âYes, Eris. I made you a pumpkin pastry. For you.â His cheeks tinged pink, but let out a breathy sigh of relief. You added for clarification: âNot on the menu.â
Gods, yes. It was the only thought running through his mind.Â
âAnd even in all that rambling, you havenât asked me to be your mate,â you continued, voice raised an octave, teasing the poor nervous male. He opened his mouth to interrupt - to ask - but you cut him off. âI would love to be, Eris Vanserra.â
And while his heart rate didnât slow down, he calmed, shoulders relaxed and eyes shut in relaxation. His hands fell to the treat before him, staring at the perfect little pastry. He could finally breathe again - as if in the past three minutes heâd been stilled, lungs, hands, and mind unable to work properly.Â
But Eris dug in anyway, picking up the soft treat like it was the most delicate thing in the world. He took a big bite, holding his free hand underneath, catching all the flakes that broke off, saving every bite. He chewed slowly, licking his lips to savor the pumpkin flavor and the light pastry. His eyes fell to yours, wide and wanting, watching you like a hawk.
You didnât dare move, frozen in place as the male ate.Â
As the bond solidified.
As he became your mate.
By the time heâd finished, his breathing was ragged and he had to press his hands against the counter to keep his balance. You watched his chest rise and fall, the linen shirt loose on his frame but hugged his broad shoulders. Those red eyes burned into yours, as though waiting for you to make the first move.Â
Or waiting for your permission.Â
So you took a step backward, pushing yourself from where youâd been nearly clinging onto the counter, where it was holding you upright. And as soon as youâd freed yourself from the confines of the countertop, heâd pounced. Eris felt like leaping across the counter and pulling you into his arms. Instead, which might have cost his last ounce of decency, heâd taken the few long strides towards you and grabbed you.Â
To be fair, he was as tender as he could have been, what with his heart beating up into his throat and his lungs burning, winding his arms around your back, fingers gripping the cotton that hung loose on your frame. His head dipped, immediately catching your lips with his. You were quick to follow his lead, throwing your arms around his neck and rising on your tiptoes to meet him.Â
Gods, he was warm - it was all that you could think of. His heat spread into you, the physical heat, but also those internal flames, the warmth that formed in the center of your chest as the bond built itself between the two of you. Sparks sizzled between you, and you were sure you felt them when your lips met in a fiery kiss.Â
Your fingers threaded through your hair as his hands roamed your back. He tasted like cinnamon, like the pumpkin from your mating food, the burnt sage that mirrored in his scent, that filled the cafe as soon as he walked through the door.Â
âI donât know anything about you,â you breathed, a soft sigh against his lips as his mouth skimmed your bottom lip, over your chin, down across your jaw.Â
He released something half crossed between a moan and a sigh. âWe have time to talk about me,â he whispered against your ear, biting at your soft flesh. âLater.â His lips ran over your cheek again, and he left a sloppy kiss on your lips. âMuch, much later.âÂ
You hummed in response, pressing yourself to his front again, chest, stomachs, legs - all of it. Eris groaned, sinking down on his knees, stopping when he was eye level with you. His red irises burned with an eternal flame, burned into you with the promise of forever. He wrapped his arms fully around your waist, his elbows at your ribs and knees on either side of your legs. He tilted his head forward, only until your lips met, noses brushing against each other.Â
Your lips parted on instinct alone, the breath pulled from your lungs when his lips met yours - so soft, barely meeting at all. You could have cried, screamed, grabbed his hair and pulled him further against you. But all he gave you was a touch, so close your eyelashes nearly tangled. His mouth brushed yours again and you snapped - arms linked around him still, pulling him against you. âUpstairs?â You asked, fully against his mouth, the word muffled between your lips and heavy breaths.Â
He shook his head, still not breaking the kiss. His hands ran down the small of your back and over your ass, cupping the back of your thighs and pulling you upwards, setting you on the counter in front of him. Eris let his fingers find the hem of your nightgown, trailing over the skin of your bare flesh. You were burning hot, like you ran a fever at his touch. In the cold air, his touch sent shivers down your spine.Â
âI canât wait, (Y/N).â His lips barely left yours. âI have to have you now.â
âThen get on with it,â you mewled, taking his hands in yours and dragging them up your thighs, under the gown. âIâve been waiting far too long for this, Eris.âÂ
You leveled his gaze - it struck quite the nerve with him, he never thought heâd succumb to an ethereal being like you, especially not to one he got to call his mate.Â
As his hands roamed under your gown, your own explored his chest, running over the lean muscle and pulling at the buttons. Youâd pulled them apart one by one, eyes shut and mouth being devoured by Eris. He seemed to pay no mind, working his way to your hips, squeezing at your thighs. You opened the shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, breaking away from him momentarily.Â
And Eris felt it, felt it through the fresh bond between you. He felt your heart stutter, felt the shock that flooded your system.Â
His heart stopped, lungs held his air hostage.Â
And then youâd felt it - the utter disgust and shame that rang through him.
So you raised your hands, holding his jaw in your palms, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone - over the other faint scar that laced his skin. You werenât sure what to say - if you should say anything at all. But heâd already noticed your surprise. Thatâs all it was - surprise, not in the hardened male before you, but at that any one male could endure that much pure trauma. You were not disgusted with your mate, not horrified at the scaring.
You weâre just⌠âWhat happened to you, my love?â
And he blinked a few times, turning his head in your hands and raising his own hands, holding your wrists in his palms. His throat worked, his mind rolling over the proper response. You moved your hands, dropping them down his cheeks, fingertips grazing the marred skin on his neck, the slashes over his collarbones and down the puckered skin of his chest. His hands remained on yours the whole time, feeling you work your way down his body.Â
My love. It made the fire inside of him burn brighter. He imagined youâd felt it too, felt the initial draw toward him like he did to you - even before you were mates.Â
âThatâs a story for another time.â He whispered, gazing down at you from under his eyelashes. âIf youâll still have me.â
You were almost shocked to hear that - to hear him question your desire to be with him just based on his scars. You wouldnât expect such doubt from him. So all you could do was sit up a little taller, pull you down to your lips and offer him the most reassuring kiss of his life.Â
He made quick work of your dress, unbuttoning the small row of buttons behind your back. You shimmied the dress from under you, where youâd been sitting on the soft fabric, and let Eris bunch it up and drag it up over your sides and arms. He slid it off quickly, discarding it in a pile along with his shirt. His eyes and hands roamed over you, exploring the curves and ridges of your body.Â
Your cheeks reddened, so exposed before the male youâd barely known, but longed for him to touch you. Youâd thought of this moment many times, during those sleepless nights, some of which ended up leaving you with your hand between your legs.Â
Eris felt your blush through the bond, he felt your outright attraction, the desperation you had. And he knew he mirrored it through the bond, too. Itâs what made you pull him back into you, until he stepped right up against the counter and the front of those trousers were pressed against your undergarment. He ground against you, unable to hold in the urge as the ferocity flooded his veins, the bond finally taking hold of him now that he had you laid out in front of him.Â
You moaned at the feeling, his hardened cock a tent in his pants, slotting perfectly between your lips. He moved up and down, gliding against the warm heat from your pussy, the smooth fabrics only aiding in his desperation - your too. Gods, you could have come from that alone should he only have kept going.Â
But the male wasnât having it. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, shucking both along your kitchen floor, discarded for what he hoped would be the next few days.Â
Erisâs cock bounced up against his stomach as he neared you, the precum gathered on the tip mixing into the fine pale hairs that trickled down his bellybutton to the base of his cock. Eris wouldnât even touch himself, deciding it would be fucking ethereal, should you reach out and grab him.Â
And, luckily, you did, holding your hand out for him to step back into position. Your hand wrapped around his dick, fully hard and standing proud. Youâd surely need two hands to work him properly, perhaps even your mouth, too. His skin was warm in your palm, hot and ready to combust as you ran your hand up and down, offering him a small squeeze as you neared the base, your thumb rubbing the tip when it slid up.
You couldnât hold out much longer, either. Youâd pressed him up right against your pussy as he just did, leaning back on your other elbow so you could further spread your hips. You held his cock with your other hand still, pressing it into your pussy. Eris began to rock, back and forth, back and forth, wincing at how wet your pussy sounded. His cock glided along your cunt effortlessly.
He braced a hand on the counter, on either side of you, and held his hips back. He let you continue to rub his dick as he leaned in close for a chaste kiss. He rubbed his nose against your ear, hot air stirring around you. âAre you going to let me fuck you, my love?âÂ
You moaned - youâd heard many tales of the trickster maleâs wicked tongue, but hadnât been granted the opportunity to hear him use it around you. You were very much looking forward to exploring that side of him.Â
Gone was the chamomile drinking, flower giving High Lordâs son. This was Eris, hot and heady and ready.
His one hand moved over to hold yours, moving your fingers to grab his cock and angle it into you. You gasped as the head nudged your folds, pushing only the tiniest bit in. You clenched around nothing, as he rocked back and forth, the head moving against your entrance but not in. âWill you let me mate you? Fill you up? Claim you?â
âGods, yes,â you moaned, trying to move off the counter even closer to him, to inch his dick farther into you. âPlease, Eris. My mate - âÂ
You were cut off with a harsh gasp, Eris sunk halfway in as you rambled on. âOh my gods - please.âÂ
He moved slowly, warming you up to his length. âStill so much more for you,â he murmured, holding your hand against your lower stomach. He pressed it softly into you, around your soft flesh, so you could feel him enter in you as he pushed his cock all the way, bottoming out.
He held there for a moment, reveling in how you squeezed your walls around him. It was unlike anything he felt before. The roaring in his chest from the bond fed straight into his cock - willing him to drive into you over and over and over.Â
But as much as he wanted to hold himself back, he found himself moving faster and faster, hitting farther inside of you with each stroke. Your moans spurred him on - your gasps, your prayers to the Mother - to him.Â
Your hands fell around you, gripping anything you could find, looking to anchor yourself on something, anything.Â
âYou feel so good, (Y/N).â He huffed, breathing becoming ragged as he fucked into you. âI canât believe Iâve waited this long for you.â
His cock stretched you, the familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach already causing you to clench around him. âYou have me, Eris, fuck.â He grabbed your hips, holding you still, driving into you harder. âPlease, more, Eris.âÂ
So he rutted into you, Eris hooked his knee onto the counter, pushing himself up, joining you on the floury surface. Your arms splayed out, knocking over bowls and eggs, ingredients falling to the floor and clinging to your sweaty skin. He hooked his knees around either side of your hips, positioning himself directly above you, driving straight down into your wet pussy.Â
He groaned - an estranged deep noise coming from the maleâs throat. His one hand was positioned beside your head, holding himself above you - though, you wouldnât care if that male suffocated you, if he laid all the weight heâd been holding all his life onto you - the other came to cradle your cheek, holding your jaw with his thumb brushed against your chin. Your breathing mixed with Erisâs, your shared air, heat, love. You sighed, feeling his cock drive deep into you, hit the deep spot inside of you - he stretched you, seeped into you, molded into you.Â
He fucked you so hard that you felt yourself moving, inching closer to the edge of the counter. Your hair fell first, starting to fall over your shoulders and off the counter. But Eris held your head, cradled you as you neared the edge, feeling your stomach coil at the rhythmic pounding in your pussy.Â
Eris didnât stop until you came, until your fingernails dug into his biceps and you screamed his name. He followed behind you quickly, his hips snapping into yours until he painted you white, with his cum that marked the bond. He claimed you as his, and silently thanked the Mother for her blessing.Â
His bright eyes washed over you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, lips swollen and bruised from his kisses, crying out for him. He watched how our brows knitted together, your skin was flushed with a pink blush. He committed everything to memory, the heave of your chest, the sweat across your collarbone, your throat working to gasp air.Â
He pulled out of you, dastardly watching the mix of both of your cum slide out of your pussy. He longed to feel it, to drag his finger up your sweet cunt, to lick it up. He knelt above you, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing your hips, pulling you centered on the tabletop. You huffed a sigh, arms limp and covered in flour at your sides.Â
His warm fingers caressed your hips, your thighs, the muscles burning from being spread so wide. You dragged a hand over his arm, up his shoulder until you met the back of his neck. Your fingers brushed through the back of his red curls. âWe made quite the mess.â You were tired, sounded so breathless - it nearly made Erisâs knees wobble.Â
He laughed, though, a hearty chuckle, quite proud of his creation. He surveyed the messy kitchen, in no shape to bake, to serve anything made from or around the mess that had become evidence of your mating bond. But after pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, the male was off, walked those long legs to the counter and scribbled down a note on a piece of scrap paper beside your recipe book.Â
Even his handwriting was beautiful. âClosed until further notice.âÂ
He rushed back to you, scooping you in his arms, holding you tightly against him, even as you broke out into a fit of giggles.
âNow you can show me this upstairs Iâve heard so much about.â And you knew right then that youâd be riding the high of your mating frenzy until Eris had learned every inch of you.
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There are some days when Shanks feels bad about not being able to give you the life he thinks you deserve. Days where you and he barely see each other because the pair of you are working overtime. Days where the two of you sit at the table, stressed about what bills you can cover and what youâll have to live without.
Others days, he knows, are better. Curled up in each others arms on your days off, the smell of breakfast cooking even though its two in the afternoon. Still, heâd always dreamed about giving you a life of luxury, about spoiling you and making sure you didnât have to work another shitty job if you didnât want to. Heâs not quite there yet, but he hopes one day he will be.
The two of you are walking hand in hand through the richer shopping district, windowshopping in all the pricier stores that give him hives just thinking about stopping in, but he loves the way you smile as you envision how you would decorate the foyer of your fictional mansion with a giant gold and crystal chandelier.
He laughs, not at you, but at the absurdity of it. âWhat would we need with something like that, huh?â
You shrug. âSometimes things are just nice to have.â
Heâd buy you a million of those ugly things if it meant making you happy.
Instead, Shanks points to something else. âAnd where would you put this?â
âOur living room, right next to the giant comfy couch, so I can admire it while I sit next to you.â
The two of you carry on like this, until you find a cozy old antique shop buried inbetween two high end boutiques.
âLets go in here.â He tells you, stopping you with a gentle tug on your hand.
âAntiques? I didnât know you liked old stuff like that.â
âI had a crush on our high school math teacher, didnât I?â
You roll your eyes. âAnd yet, youâre here with me.â
He elbows you playfully in the side. âWell, she couldnât compare to you.â
You just laugh and head inside the store.
The inside smells like dust and the culmination of other peoples belongings, but heâs drawn to the jewelry shelf towards the entrance, whilst you wander off by yourself down one of the countless aisles. The shelf holds many pieces of jewelry, but what catches his eye is a pair of wedding rings, obviously on the older side, but the feeling hits him so fast, it feels like his heart has fallen to his feet.
Shanks had never thought about proposing to you. Not in a âterrified of marriageâ way, but to him you already were. But, standing in that store, the need had never been more apparent, and the rings were within his budget. It felt like a sign from on high, even if you were the one who believed in signs like that.
You both left the store half an hour later, his wallet a bit lighter, but pocket heavier.
You make dinner that night, something simple, but delicious and Shanks, never one to second guess himself, jumps right in.
âI want to marry you.â
Your eyes widen as you nearly spit out your drink. âWh-â
He pulls the rings out and continues. âI know you didnât dream about living in a one bedroom apartment with shitty heating and cooling, and that you deserve better than I can give you, but I promise you that youâll have it one day. Whatever you want, a big house, dogs or cats, a huge ugly gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer. I want to give that all to you.â
You take his hand in yours. âShanks, baby, we may not live the life you think we deserve, but I live the life I want with you every day. I donât care about any of that stuff, not really. So what if our heating breaks in the middle of winter? So what if I canât have a big yard or house? Iâd rather have you.â
He feels his eyes get a little misty and he turns away. âIâm not the one whoâs supposed to be crying here.â
You roll your eyes and slip one of the rings on. âIâll marry you.â
He kisses you deep, a grin on his face that wonât go away no matter how hard he tries.
The wedding takes place in a court house, costing no more than 120 dollars and the two of you wearing the nicest clothes you can afford, but its perfect and neither of you would dream of anything else, not when you have each other. This is the life you deserve, and he can give it to you after all.
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Sun-Kissed Extra I
You can read Sun-Kissed here
~3.1k words
Warnings: None; fluffy, sweet stuff. Thought it would be nice to add some sunshine to this winter season. Hope you like it đ
With sand between her toes, she headed back to Sun-Kissed Cabana. Only seven days until Harryâs arrival separated her from what was sure to be one of the best summers of her life.
*
âI love summer,â Harry sighed dropping his head back against the pillow.
Fifty days separated from the end of summer until the wedding weekend. Another month until the holiday break for Thanksgiving. Another month until Christmas. The longest drought was Christmas to their break in Februaryâsixty days exactly. Fifty-six from that break until their Spring break.
Somehow the remaining two weeks of their school years, until they would be living in Sun-Kissed Cabana and Sea View, was approximately, without exaggeration, three years long.
This is torture, Harry đ
I know, baby. Just a few more weeks.
An entire summer. Seventy blissful days of sun, sand, and sex with Harry. Her brain was fogging over inputting grades for the term into her computer while simultaneously thinking over the next bout of review for the finals for her two classes. She worried about a few students that were struggling and hoped they would get enough points so that she could justify bumping them if necessary.
The idea of not working for seventy days was very exciting. It had been a long year. She was very lucky she made money off the rental process and the little over-the-summer tutoring she did. Harry was going to do some tutoring himself but with a place to stay for free (although Harry felt guilty about mooching off her. âGuess youâll have to pay me in orgasms,â she had giggled to him over the phone when he told her of his worry) his paycheck covered any summer costs for sure without needing to work.
She would get a week head start to make the little cottages presentable and ready for the first renter. Harry would be arriving a week later. His school started later than hers. But he planned on leaving straight from school, packing his car the night before and hurrying as quickly as he could to the shore.
âMiss! Do we have to take a final!?â
She shook her head of the thoughts of Harry. Bending her over the sofa in her little cottage and making her see stars was not a good idea to think about when she had a whole bunch of twelve-year-olds coming into her room to get a science review lesson.
*
The smell of salt in the air was like heaven. The anxiety, the stress, all of the frustration that came from the end of the school year was washed away by the ocean. She arrived before the traffic, before the tourists, and before even the locals were awake. âYou can call yourself a local,â the man at the grocery store told her. âYouâre here all summer...since you were little. No one would mind.â
She didnât even unpack her car. The moment she was in park, she stepped onto the sandy road and hurried the short distance to the walkway for the beach. Her heart felt so heavy and happy at the same time. It was home. Truly. She kicked her sandals off and scurried down to the water. She lifted her skirt up a bit to bunch in her hand so the water would get the ends of it. It was freezing still. The kind of cold salt water that made your feet numb and your skin ache. But it was so welcomed. Like if she were brave enough to do one of those ice bath dips that were so popular. She understood it. But only from the ankle down.
The sea breeze chilled her skin giving her goosebumps. It was too early for the sun to throw any real heat. It was barely eight in the morning and June always had cool mornings down by the water.
Are you there, baby? đ
In the excitement of getting to the beach she completely forgot to text Harry that she was there. Guilt plagued her. She turned her phone to face her, the water, the sky, and snapped a picture to send to him.
Canât tell if youâre there or not. Too busy looking at you đ
Youâre insane.
About you, kitten. Donât work too hard. Iâm excited to help when I get there.
I wonât. Have a good day at work. Call you later đ
She knew he wouldnât have time to chat until later when school let out. With sand between her toes, she headed back to Sun-Kissed Cabana. Only seven days until Harryâs arrival separated her from what was sure to be one of the best summers of her life.
*
There was a mix of anxiety and excitement bubbling in her chest. She had a hand on her heart trying to feel the erratic rhythm. It was like the muscle was trying to escape her chest. It was so hard to focus on her book knowing Harry was less than an hour away from being in her arms. Her foot was wiggling impatiently. All her senses were wonky.
The breeze was filtering into the cottage, bringing the salty air through along with the sounds of laughter. In the short week she had been there, the number of people had multiplied by five at least. Still not a lot, many were waiting for their children to finish the school year. But more than that peaceful morning she arrived and dipped her toes in the water.
She reread Harryâs message. Three hours, kitten đ She redid the calculation again. As if somehow, he would arrive earlierâor later. She wouldnât blame him if he stopped for lunch. Her mind was going a little crazy, switching over to his location that he kindly gave her after their summer together. You can know my every movement, kitten.
He was still on track, which she was very grateful for. It felt like the last two hours had trailed even longer than the last two weeks. She twisted her neck every which way, her book no longer making any sense, she just tossed it on the floor and put her arm over her eyes trying to calm herself further. She would have to restart it when they read on the patio later. If they made it to the patio tonight. Part of her wondered if they would eat or leave the bedroom. Or make it past the living room for that matter.
She was wearing a pair of the popular boho pants that slipped on and offâthey were red with a floral print that she selected mainly because Harry wouldnât have to fuss with any buttons or zippers with a black tank top tucked into the elastic. It was comfy and easy to get on an off which she was hoping the off part would be the moment Harry walked through the door.
To keep herself busy and her mind occupied long enough for the remaining minutes, she started to fold some laundry while watching TV. Towels for Sea View. It was mindless and the show was too. She put her phone facedown so she wouldnât watch the final minutes tick by so agonizingly slow.
Apparently, she did too good of a job because the moment she heard a car door slam she didnât realize that the final moments had flew that she missed the sound of him pulling into the driveway. In seconds she was flinging herself out the door, right as Harry made it to the bottom step and she threw herself in his embrace. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his arms wound around her body. Anyone passing by their reunion would have thought they were insane. Two grown adults acting like the tweens and teenagers they taught. Tears pricked her eyes as she inhaled his familiar scent barely getting a look at him and he kissed the side of her head.
âI missed you so much,â he whispered breathlessly against her neck, kissing her skinâanywhere his lips could reach he wanted his mouth on her body. He never understood the analogy until he met her. Never imagined being so in love, so wanting for someone until her sun-goddess self-appeared in front of him. He was a starving man, and she was the most delicious thing he had tasted in months.
âI missed you,â she answered. The sound of her voice was lost in the air he was pulling from her with all his kisses. Â She released her leg-hold on his hips. Not for long. She thought to herself. âDo you want to get your stuff?â She asked.
âNo,â he murmured ushering her inside and slamming the door shut a little too loud for a touristy little cottage area. âNeed you,â he nearly groaned as he pulled the tank top from the pants she wore. âBeen thinking âbout you all over this place...all over me,â he cupped her chin and brought his lips a breath away from hers. He didnât kiss her, finally gazed into her eyes. âI missed you,â he repeated.
âI missed you too,â her breath barely getting out of her lungs. In the next moment, his hands were all over her body. Searching for something that he didnât seem to know what he was looking for. Her heart rate was somehow higher than it was while waiting for him. She was right about the pants coming off easily. They were easy to get off and she was right about the sofa too. All those inappropriate thoughts she had while grading and in between teaching classes were correct. Harry bending her over the living room furniture (and the dining room furniture and the kitchen counter) was exactly as she imagined but, of course, even better.
*
They eventually did make it to the bedroom. A better part of the late afternoon and early evening was spent between the sheets with kisses and touches that they were so desperate for after so many days of missing one another.
After what seemed like ages, Harry ordered her favorite pasta dish and food for himself while she was in the bathroom. She returned with a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized T-shirt on that made it look like she wasnât wearing shorts at all. He groaned. âKitten, mâgonna have tâgo get the food at the door,â he reminded her as she walked over to his side of the bed. His arms wrapped around her thighs; his nose buried into the soft T-shirt. âYâlook too good tâget out of bed.â
She giggled and threaded her fingers through his hair. âI can get the food.â
He scowled against her shirt. âAnd let someone else see yâlike this? No way,â he grumbled. âMine,â his voice was possessive in the cutest way possible. âYâlucky I donât handcuff yâhere.â
âThat sounds like fun,â there was a teasing tone in her voice.
Harry actually growled. It was low in his throat and somehow made her core ache moreâeven after a well spent afternoon of touches and more. âDonât tease me, love. Missed yâway too much.â
She laughed again and pulled gently from his embrace. He kept a hand on the back of her thigh. Like it was too much to not touch her in some way after all the time spent apart and knowing he would have an uninterrupted summer of being at her side. She tossed the covers back, her cheeks flushed with a red color at the sight of his sculpture-worthy form. âBetter take care of that before the food gets here, yeah?â She asked sinking between his legs and tantalizing him with her fingertips working up from his knees to the tops of his thighs.
âI love summer,â he sighed dropping his head back against the pillow.
*
After eating (and maybe another hour spent in bed to get a head start making up for all the lost time they spent apart) they did head onto the patio for a reading session. But Harry was getting impatient. Now that the arousal hormones had simmered to a manageable level, he had only one thing on his mind, and he was almost bursting to share it.
âSo, kitten, I have some good news and bad news,â he told her about a half hour after their reading session started. Her feet were in his lap, stretched across the space between the seats. Harry had one hand holding his book while he read (but not really reading because he was thinking about delivering this news so many times over, he couldnât focus) the other hand had his fingers dancing across her shin, swirling little imaginary patterns on her skin.
Apparently, for all his thinking about it, he didnât deliver the sentence well, it seemed. Immediately, she frowned, her heart breaking right before his eyes. He almost wanted to take it back. âI donât like the sound of that,â he could see the worry in her eyes. He almost felt bad for making the sadness appear. Maybe it was too mean. He was hoping it wouldnât beâhe thought maybe she wouldâve guessed immediately by the excitement in his voice.
âI have tâleave a week earlier than expected,â he was smiling.
Unfortunately, he was wrong. The excitement didnât translate. Her gaze dropped to her thighs.
How could he be smiling? She didnât even rationalize why he was smiling. It hurt so much. The seventy days. Only sixty-three. It hurt so much. How could he be smiling?!
âPlease tell me thatâs the bad news,â she whispered looking at her lap. Her book fell to the side, off the chair she was sitting on. Sand was going to get in the spine if they left it there too long. Harry hoped he could hurry the process up. She sat upright, creating more space between them. He leaned forward pressing his hands on either side of her legs on her seat. She couldnât seem to look him in the eye.
He chuckled. She envied him and his casualness of the situation. Maybe he wasnât as in love with her as she thought. âOf course, kitten,â he rolled his eyes. âLeaving yâfor any length of time is the worst,â he promised and reached out to grab her fidgety fingers playing with the end of her T-shirt hem. âBut mânew school district has new staff orientation at the end of the week I need tâleave. Before the year starts. And mâmoving into mânew apartment the days before.â
âYou got a new job?â She asked curiously. The surprise getting the better of her thoughts. Ignoring the fact that he was leaving her...and he was happy about it. He hadnât mentioned a new job once. What was with all the secrets all so suddenly?
The poor thing was so sad she wasnât thinking clearly, obviously. Harry thought this would be more obvious that she would know. The surprise was a good thing. He shook his head at her and rolled his eyes. âYes, kitten,â he nodded waiting one last moment for her to put it together herself. âWe have our first district meeting on August 26th, right? Eight in the morning?â He asked squeezing her hand.
Her head snapped up from her lap and she finally looked him in the eye. Her expression was unreadable. Like she wasnât sure what to do with the information. It wasnât fully processing. âWhat district meeting?â
âYour district,â he whispered, a smug little smile on his lips with the knowledge he knew he tricked her. It made her heart flutter. âOr I should say... our district.â
Her lips parted. âOur district?â She repeated dumbly.
âYes, kitten,â his smile was going to melt her.
He watched her mouth gape open and close. The cutest little angelfish he had ever seen. âYouâreââ
âYes, baby,â he repeated, interrupting her.
There was a pause while he gazed at her. Silently begging her to process and understand what he was saying to her. âWeâre going to be together?â She whispered, her voice cracking. âNo moreâ?â
âEvery day if yâwant, kitten,â he promised. She burst into tears and Harry stood, pulling her up along with him to stand. He chuckled as she sobbed against his shirt. She clung to him, her arms squeezing around his waist. âAw, baby. Please donât cry. Sâokay, kitten. Sâa good thing,â he reminded her kissing the top of her head.
âYou got a new job for me?â Her breath caught on a hiccup as she asked against his now tear-soaked shirt.
âWell, for us, love,â he chuckled.
âBut you lovedââ
âKitten,â he shook his head, cupping her back of her neck and kissing the top of her head at the same time. âI love you, I love us, and mâsure mâgonna love this district more. Jusâ because youâre there. Sâwhat I want. I want tâbe closer tâyou. It was easy.â
âBut I could have changedââ
âNo, kitten,â he shook his head. âSânothing. There was an opening. I was waiting for it. Mâokay,â he promised. âSâa good thing,â he reminded her.
âSo whereâs all your stuff?â She sniffled and pulled away. Harry cupped her face in his hands brushing away the tears. He smiled his perfect beautiful smile.
âStorage. Itâll be get delivered tâmy new place when I move in.â
âYou could move in with me,â she suggested, her voice soft. Like she was nervous to say it out loud. Fear of rejection. As if he could ever reject her. After he just took a job to be closer to her.
He grinned, looked at her lazily. His eyes scanning her sweet face, tear-stained but nonetheless beautiful. âYeah?â
She nodded. âOf course. Why would you get an apartment when weâre going to be going back and forth betweenââ
âWell, sâa lot tâspring on someone.â
âI love you,â she promised. âOf course you can move in,â she rolled her eyes. âWe already live together in the summer.â
He nodded, unable to stop smiling. Somehow smiling bigger with every word she spoke. âNow weâll always live together, too. Now, no more crying for the rest of the summer,â he tilted her face up again and kissed her cheek with a few little pecks several times over. âSâendless now. Gonna have my sweet sun-goddess for the rest of mâlife,â he winked and tugged her inside. âBut I think we should celebrate,â he noted, squeezing her hand as they made it to the living room.
âHow so?â
âMm... well, sâbeen âbout four hours since your last orgasm,â his voice was low and gravelly. It reached the pit of her stomach and made her feel faint. She was still red eyed from sobbing, and she was sure she didnât look very sexy. âThink I owe yâone after making you all upset,â his hands pulled her t-shirt over her head. âOr more. Yâdeserve sâmany as yâwant.â She smiled, shaking her head at him as he wrapped an arm around her and dipped her until she was back on the sofa. âI love you, mâsweet sun goddess.â
She giggled. âI love you, too.â
-
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One Small Gift
HELLO! I TOLD YOU I'D POST ONE MORE FIC THIS YEAR! And I am very proud of myself for making it a Christmas centered fic! I can't believe it's actually been a year since I last posted a Christmas fic. Like where did the time go and how did this thing spawn?
I'm gonna ramble a bit more at the bottom of this fic about me and the community but lets not hold you up any longer so I give you: The Christmas Fic- One Small Gift :3
cw: fear, death mention (but no actual death), lying, panic and anxiety, fluff- Like, ALOT of Fluff, hidden identity and of course happy endings. You know, the usual angst/fluffy Beckyu fic :3
word count: 8351
Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.
.・â
*ââ*â*・*â*ââ*â
・.
Cold
Why did the walls always have to be so damn cold?Â
Tommyâs mind couldnât help but linger on the thought, as the Borrower shivered making his way through the maze that was the inside the house walls.
Human Beans invented heaters AGES ago for the insides of their houses to keep warm, so how was it that the inside of the walls were still always so flippen freezing?Â
Would it kill them to think of the little guy freezing their butt off just once?
Well no, maybe not. But it certainly would Tommy.Â
As much as the young blonde would love to cuss at the home owner for not giving him a proper source of heat, the Borrowers code quite literally FORBID them from ever telling a Human of their existence. Not to forget the fact that it would mean doom for a borrower if they ever did. All the horror stories of Borrowers being squished or experimented on from the elders to go off being proof enough.
Death by Human Beans?
HA! Absolutely NOT!
Thatâs exactly the reason why he is trying to get supplies for the Winter to warm himself up, before it gets even colder!Â
Tommy grumbled to himself as he ducked and weaved past forgotten cobwebs about how it was such a pain to be in this position in the first place. Heâd had a perfectly fine home in a tree nook in the forest that had always remained nice and cosy warm during the colder months.Â
Even if that meant heâd been living on his own, Tommy had been happy living as an Outie borrower for as long as he could remember. Well at least he had, before some tall, pretentious brunette freak decided his home would be the perfect tree to cut down and drag all the way back to his stupid freezing cold house.Â
But it gets better, because even though the main part of his home was actually still intact under the now stump, the Bean still took the top half of the tree-Â
With Tommy still inside it!Â
They flippen took HIS house and wrapped it in a net; effectively trapping the poor borrower and then strapped it to the top of their car and drove hours and hours to a Human Town with him hanging on for dear life.
And thatâs not even the worst part because not only did the flippen Bean steal part of his house, but then they had the audacity to cover the tree's dying corpse in fancy decorations and shining lights.Â
Like seriously WTF?!
A Bean kidnaps him from the only place heâs ever really known and covers his once thriving residence all merrily in ornaments, while heâs forced to flee his only real known place of safety with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the few supplies he did have stored in the upper levels of his now dying home. He hadnât wanted to leave, but it was the only choice he really had.Â
Stay in the tree and get caught, or try and survive in the Beans' walls until Winter passes.
He chose the latter of course- (Itâs not like staying would have helped him anyways)Â
Getting down from the top of the tree had been, well- less than a fun time for the Borrower. The big purple bruises across his back were a throbbing reminder from his impact on the floor at times, but he managed.Â
Instead, Tommy had started to navigate his temporary âsoon to be homeâ in the walls getting an idea of the layout and where the best places were to borrow from. He just had to make it through the Winter and then he could go home. Trying to get back to his nook now would be impossible with all the snow cover on the ground, but heâd get back to the forest even if it killed him.
Which might be the case soon if he doesnât get some new clothes and heat source quick.
That was the main issue with being kidnapped after all. You only have whatâs on your back and well, Tommy hadnât exactly been expecting to get yoinked away in his scrappy T-Shirt and shorts. He had proudly made them himself with the few scraps of fabric heâd managed to find from some Beans that had been passing through years ago on a camping trip, but the fabric was light, and not made to be worn in such cold conditions.Â
Heâd only meant to go up and check what the heck the loud thumping outside his tree was like any normal person. He was expecting a deer or maybe a bear using it as a scratching post, not a Bean cutting their house down and taking him along with it. You donât exactly have time to think about putting on proper clothing when your everything is at stake.
So that was step one: Find some material and make some clothes- a jacket the top priority.
Tommy is very thankful that he had his borrowing bag on him, that he still has his self made needle and some old thread so he at least didnât have to start from nothing. Finding the material hadnât been too difficult to locate either. When he first scouted the place, he discovered pretty quickly that the Bean had a habit of leaving stuff all over the place, so borrowing supplies hadnât been difficult to do without being noticed. Itâs how he found the most perfect fluffy woollen red sock to make a coat and blanket from. He would already have it now though if the Bean hadnât come back before he could swipe it.
The Borrower had tried to come back for it later, but the Bean had decided it was time to clean their room up because he had some guests coming for this thing called âChris-massâ- whatever that was- and the sock was gone.
So instead he grabbed what he could and made his way back to the walls with just enough fabric to make a new pair of pants and some crackers for dinner.
But it still didnât fix the whole freezing situation.
What Tommy really needed was a candle.Â
To a Human Bean it may seem to be an insignificant source of light, but to a Borrower it could literally be the difference between a warm nights sleep and becoming a Borrower popsicle! But that was easier said then done because all the usual spots Beans would normally keep candles, were replaced with flippen electric ones!!!!Â
Whatâs wrong with fire on candles!? Why would you want a fake candle that just flickers and produces less light than a real one?
That or something for a bed. At least that way heâd have a comfortable place to sleep and trap his own body heat.
He really wishes he could have taken those socksâŚ
As if this Bean wasnât bad enough, not only did they lack the materials Tommy so desperately needed, but they wouldnât shut up talking into the black box (a fone he thinks itâs called from memory) to other Beans with how excited they were about them coming to stay for the Hole-lid-days and spend time huddled together by the fire or something dumb.Â
âCome on Dad! Let me host. If you let me host, Iâve got the coolest surprise planned for you and Techno I swear!! Plus donât you want to come and see me?âÂ
Lucky prick. Got a Dad and a brother���
Now donât get him wrong, Tommy is a big man, if not the biggest man to ever exist and he doesnât need anyone. But he also couldnât help but long for someone to share the cold season with like the Beans did. It had been so long since heâd seen another Borrower like himself and though heâd never admit it, living alone did get a little bit lonely sometimes. It would be nice if just once he could share a night cuddled up close to a loved one, and just bask in each otherâs company.Â
But Tommy didnât have time to be sentimental about things heâd likely never have.
He needed to find a way to stay warm and get warm now.
But the universe decidedly hated Tommy because, tonight was apparently December 24th-
Chrisymiss Eve.
Tommy had been here about a week or so and in his short stay still wasnât 100% sure what this whole Khrislermas was, but it appeared to be a BIG deal to the Beans.Â
Apparently, all the Beans get together whether itâs family or friends to spend time together and exchange gifts. Itâs about being thankful for what you have or whatever and something about showing how much you love someone by giving and receiving presents.Â
Tommy thought it was actually quite a nice thing the Beans did and wished that Borrowers had something similar themselves in their culture. However, there was one thing he still didnât quite understand about this whole holiday thing.
Who the heck is Santa Claus?
Heâd been taking some more crackers the Bean had left out from the kitchen while this âtv showâ played on the Bean's big Black box that was talking about this Santa guy. Apparently, he was some elusive, big fat man, dressed all in red with a big white bushy beard, who climbed down the Beans chimneys, and left gifts for all the little boys and girls of the world. He had this list too that knew if youâd been naughty or nice and would leave the good children gifts and the bad children coal in their stockings.Â
Children could write letters to Santa or heâd visit and children could sit on his knee and ask him for a gift they would like and he would deliver the toys to children all over the world on Christmas eve when everyone was sleeping, only to have disappeared by daybreak.
Tommy hadnât thought much of this Santa at first- not when it was just another Bean to avoid. That was until he learned two very important details.
1- Santa delivered presents to ALL children of the world.Â
And 2- Santa wasnât meant to be seen by Humans either.
So not only did this Santa guy literally just give out free gifts, but Tommy literally had a way to get exactly what he needed for the winter!
All he needed to do was talk to Santa and heâd be saved!Â
Now you might be thinking: But Tommy, you said it yourself. Santa isnât meant to be seen by anyone so what makes you the exception?Â
Simple.
Borrowers arenât meant to be seen by Beans and neither is Santa.
Which means just like Borrowers, Santa must not want to be caught (which if he thinks too hard about it makes sense since he literally breaks into houses but anyways) and unlike with Beans, there is no rule that says Borrowers canât see Santa!
All he has to do is wait for Santa to visit Crystamas eve, and then he can ask for his gift! Santa probably even knows what he wants, being made of magic and all! He just never knew Santa existed so heâs never asked for his gift before!Â
If he were a more greedy Borrower, he could ask for so much more to make up for all the years he never got a gift, but that would probably put him on Santaâs naughty list. And while coal would be good, Tommy doesnât exactly want to burn the house down with him inside it. So this was his best shot to get exactly what he needed.Â
The hard bit though, was waiting for Santa to arrive. That meant not only having to be out in the living room where the fireplace was, but also meant he had to wait for the Bean to fall asleep. Which really meant that it would be AGES before Santa would come because the Bean of the house was terrible at sleeping at night.Â
The man literally had no sleep schedule and would stay up till terrible times in the morning before drifting off. Normally that wasnât much of an issue for the Borrower having observed this early on, but right now it was very much a hindrance because it could be hours before they went to bed.Â
It also seemed that they wouldnât be sleeping anytime soon, because the amount of energy and excitement the Bean had displayed the whole day about his family coming home was overwhelming. Heâd come home at one stage with this big bag of stuff talking on the black box about how his super cool surprise was coming along and how it would be awesome since they let him host Chrimpmas- whatever that meant.Â
Tommy had hoped with the excitement of the holiday theyâd have been ready to pass out by now, but he couldnât be more wrong with the amount of commotion he could hear from down the hall- and thatâs through the walls.Â
At least he could observe everything going on from his place on the bookshelf. It was right next to a small crack in the wall he could just squeeze through, but it gave him a good view of the living room but also enough cover from prying eyes unless he made his presence known. However, being out of the walls had one difference the blonde hadnât accounted for.
Heat.
The fire had been lit and was keeping the whole room nice and toasty warm compared to the harsh bite the walls somehow managed to keep. The whole atmosphere made him almost want to curl up and fall asleep. It had been so long since heâd been able to just enjoy the warmth in the air and not be shivering to keep alive.
Perhaps it wouldnât hurt if he had a nap before Santa arrived.
Just a quick oneâŚ.
.・â
*ââ*â*・*â*ââ*â
・.
Tommy was awoken to a rather loud THUNK as the Borrower shot up from where he had fallen asleep atop the shelf.Â
It took the blonde a moment to realise where he was and not panic about being out in the open before his eyes settled upon a figure.Â
Sprawled out across the floor in a heap of red and white was the jolly big man himself.
Santa Claus.
The one and only.
âSanta!â Tommy yelled excitedly as he hurriedly manoeuvred to stand. âSanta you came!â
Santaâs head snapped up from the floor alarmed, as they pushed themselves to stand and take a defensive stance.
âWho said that?!â they shouted, looking around wildly panicked. âShow yourself!â
Tommy giggled to himself. Santa was so silly.Â
âUp here Santa! Iâve been waiting for you.â The blonde waved as the man's head turned and their eyes fell onto his small form.Â
Tommy grinned at the magical man taking him all in.Â
Just like the figure on the big black box, Santa wore a big red coat with white fluff lining the ends of his sleeves. A big black belt was strapped around their waist, fastened with a fancy golden buckle and sturdy black boots on their feet to keep out the snow. Their head was adorned with an oversized big red hat, with a giant white fluffy pom pom on the end, and they had a long white beard that travelled down their chest. And last but not least was a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the tip of their rosy red nose which accentuated their big brown eyes that were staring at him in wonder.Â
Huh.Â
He could have sworn that Santa's eyes were blue.
âI canât believe you came! I wasnât sure if you would since I never sent a letter but you must have known anyway cause here you are!â The little borrower stated excitedly as Santa removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.Â
âIâm so glad youâre here! I really need my Crimpmess present.âÂ
âIâm sorry youâre what?â the manâs eyes furrowed in confusion as they processed what the younger had said.
âMy present!.â Tommy rolled his eyes. âYou know, the whole reason why youâre here.â
Santa didnât exactly seem like he knew what was going on. Right now all he was doing was staring and Tommy was getting a bit annoyed.Â
Was that not why Santa was here? To deliver his present like the show had said?
Tommy huffed annoyed he had to explain all this. Wasnât this like his job? He should know!
âIâm sorry,â Santa began slowly as if trying to process. âI didnât actually know you were here.â
âWhy else would you have come then?â Tommy crossed his arms unimpressed. âIâm the only kid here, but donât tell anyone else I said that. Iâm a big man! The biggest ever!â
This finally seemed to warrant a different reaction from the older, as they looked the boy up and down unimpressed by this so-called âfactâ.
âA big man huh? You look more like a child. What are you- 12?â
Tommy feigned a gasp, grasping his chest offendedly. âIâll have you know Iâm 14 and the biggest man alive! Iâm only a child for the purpose of getting my gift tonight and tonight only!â
Santa couldnât stifle a laugh as he watched as the small child stomped his foot in a mini tantrum at being called 12. It was endearing in a way but he still wasnât sure how to proceed with a tiny child standing on their bookshelf.
âWell whatever you say I guess, but I still I didnât know you were here.â
The blonde shrugged before moving closer to the shelfs edge. âAh well it doesnât matter. Youâre here now so Iâd like my gift please! You have it right?âÂ
âIf I didnât know you were here, then how would I have your present with me?â Santa asked.
Well he did make a good point. Itâs not like he sent Santa a letter and he hadn't met him to tell him like other human bean children had until now.Â
âOh right. Guess I better come sit on your knee and tell you what Iâd like than.â Tommy stated matter of factly, as the small Borrower moved to the edge of the shelf and stabbed his hook into the wood, quickly jumping off to descend on his rope to the ground.
âWait, DONâT DO THAT!âÂ
The blonde yelped in surprise, moving instinctually to protect his ears at the sheer volume the man shouted, in turn losing his grip on his rope, quickly plummeting down to the ground below. Santa lunged forward with an outstretched hand as the boy slipped down the rope at a rapid speed, catching him before any real harm could be done. He semi slammed into the wall, clutching his hand to his chest as they did so before quickly unfurling their hand.
âOh my prime! Kid- kid are you alright?â Santa said frantically checking over the boy he now held in his palm.Â
Tommy shook his head, dizzy from the sudden force that had rammed into him only moments ago. He tried to steady himself grabbing, onto the nearest thing his hand could find as he begun to regain his bearings.
Oh he was going to ache tomorrowâŚ
âAs soon as the world stops spinning, yeah.â
Santa sighed in relief as Tommy allowed himself to regain focus. It was then that he really took note of where he was.Â
Normally, if a Borrower was sitting in the hand of someone almost 100x his size, he would be kicking and screeching to get away. But this was Santa Clausâs hand and Tommy felt only wonder.Â
It was like nothing heâd ever experienced before. The thing he had grabbed onto was apparently Santaâs thumb and it was almost as big as his head! Even if it was a bit weird sitting on the leathery texture of their skin, the warmth radiating beneath him was heavenly, and the way the manâs fingers curled slightly over him protectively felt nothing but comforting.Â
Santa hadnât moved since he caught Tommy mid air, and was staring at Tommy as if they would disappear. They seemed stuck on what to do next, but also amazed he was sitting there at all.
âYou alright there big man?â Tommy raised a brow confused at why the man would act this way. Santa was literally made of magic and had flying reindeer for goodness sake! A borrower existing surely was no cause for such amazement? There were surely way more interesting magical things to see than a lowly Borrower like him.Â
(But then again, he was a pretty poggers Borrower if he did so say that himself, so staring could be justified for that reason)
This finally snapped the old man out of their wondrous stupor, as they squinted their eyes open and shut with a quick shake of their head.Â
âUh yep. All good um. Let's- go sit down. Yeah- yeah, let's do that.â Santa said, confirming more to themself than Tommy.
Santa brought the boy protectively to their chest to brace them before they moved away from the book shelf, smoothly walking over to the couch where the old man sat down ever so slowly to not jostle their small passenger. The second they were bending down to sit though, Tommy was launching himself off Santaâs palm for his knee as the bearded man frantically tried to stop them in their escapade.
âKid, would you stop doing that? Youâre going to hurt yourself!â
âPfft please. This is nothing compared to how I got down from that tree over there.â The boy grinned as they pointed to the far corner of the living room.
The man's head followed to where the boy was pointing, the Christmas tree displayed proudly in a large pot tied with a red bow, small lights flickering on and off in changing patterns.
âTree? You mean the Christmas tree?â
âYep!â Tommy stood proudly popping the p. âI had to get down somehow and my hook would have gotten stuck in amongst the branches if I had tried to abseil down. So I did what any logical Borrower would do and jumped.â
âYou jumped?!â Santaâs eyes widened, as he looked back and forth between the boy and the top of the brightly decorated tree. He grimaced, imagining the boy throwing themselves from the upper branches like they had done only moments before onto his knee.Â
What was with this kid and being so reckless?!
âYou jumped from the top of the Christmas tree!? Why were you even there in the first place?â
Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing their arms in front of their chest.Â
âItâs all that stupid Beans fault.âHe huffed annoyed. âHe just came waltzing into MY forest, decided to be very rude and put their grubby hands all over MY house wrapping it up in some ugly net, only to cut it down with me still in it!â
Tommy didnât notice the way Santaâs brows furrowed and their expression changed to one of horror as he continued to ramble on.
âThey literally kidnapped me, Santa! Theyâre so lucky that the main part of my house is under the treeâs trunk and not the higher branches because I swear I would have murdered that Bean in their sleep by now if they had!â
Tommy was very pleased to have finally gotten to vent some of his frustrations to someone other than his internal self, but now he was finished he had a good chance to register the otherâs reaction.
Santa looked horrified.
His eyes seemed glossed over as if he was holding back tears, and one hand slapped over their mouth, the other gripping their wrist tightly in an attempt to ground themselves.Â
Uh shit. He hadnât meant for that to happenâŚ
âUh but donât worry Santa!â Tommy was quick to add. â I wouldnât actually do that. That would be a bad thing to do and put me on the Naughty list! I promise I wonât actually murder anyone!âÂ
Phew, that was a close one. He couldnât jeopardise his only hope with a silly joke!
Santasâ face had yet to change and Tommy subconsciously started to fidget feeling nervous to how the older was reacting. Maybe he had blown it and now he was on the naughty list. Another glance at the old man's face seemed to confirm those fears.
Heâd blown it.
His one shot at survival and he practically threw it all away with a vent. No wonder he ended up all alone.
âPlease donât put me on the Naughty list Santa. I need my gift.â Tommy spoke timidly. âI didnât mean it.â
âI- no. No youâre not on the Naughty list.â Santa dragged his hands over his eyes a few times strained. âI'm just trying to process. Itâs more of the whole kidnapping thing. âÂ
If Tommy had been paying better attention, he may have noticed the few stray brown curls poking out from under the man's hat, but he was more thrown by their following question as the magical man continued on.
âIf you were in the tree, why didnât you say anything?â
Tommy drew a deep breath, before sighing as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets.
âBecause Santa, Beans arenât supposed to know that Borrowers like me even exist.â
âBeans?â
âHuman Beans Santa. You know, big people like you, but not magical and stuff.â The Borrower explained. âThereâs no way I could tell the dumb Bean he was cutting my house down! Do you know what Beans do to Borrowers like me?âÂ
âUm no?â Santa fiddled with his hands as he looked away, eyes downcast to avoid the youngers gaze as they continued.
âThey get rid of us. To them weâre just pests or things to be used.â
Tommy hugged himself tightly, anxiety pooling in his chest for the first time that night. He wished it wasnât true, but Beans just held far too much power for their own good. Their greed often outweighing their need to do good without reward.Â
âIâd rather risk jumping out of a tree than ever fall into the clutches of a Bean.âÂ
âBut how do you know that?â Santa suddenly said, muscles tensing as they clenched their hand into fists.Â
Tommy flinched at the sight of hands so close. Closed so tightly that he couldnât help let slip the thought of himself in the mercy of their grasp, begging to be freed like all the stories had said of the Borrowers trapped in agonising pain. The man noticed his discomfort, and immediately loosened their fists, moving their hands away and under their thighs so as to not startle the boy any further than they already had.
âSorry. I didnât mean to scare you.â Santa said with a sense of guilt. âBut I just- How do you know that though? Who says that they would have hurt you if you had just made your presence known? You wouldnât have had to jump or gotten hurt.â
Santa turned away sheepishly, whispering sadly. âThey could have helped you.âÂ
Tommy swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he observed the sad look Santa had as they stared at the Christmas tree. It was obvious they were blaming themself for what had happened. He was far too kind for that.
âSanta, itâs not your fault.â the boy sighed, âEvery borrower is taught this from birth. Itâs a known fact that Beans are all cruel, power hungry beings. They always want more and just take, take, take.â Â
âBut what if this âBeanâ didnât know.â Santa shot back, causing the Borrower to falter. âWhat if you had said something? They would have stopped and left you and your house alone? How do you know they wouldnât have helped you?â
âBecause Santa,â Tommy turned and faced the man head on. âThatâs just how Beans are. To them, we're just another thing to take and control.âÂ
Tommy wanted to believe Santa, he really did, but it was hard to just ignore years of being brought up to beware Human Beans and their cruelty. Heâd seen it even from when Beans had once come into the forest with their fire sticks, and took down a friendly deer. It was unnecessarily cruel and was all the convincing Tommy needed to deem all Humans bad.
Santa nodded sadly in some kind of understanding, but Tommy couldnât understand why Santa looked so hurt. It wasnât his fault the Bean took him and his home, but he seemed so convinced that hiding and not asking for help had been the wrong thing to do.Â
He thought they were the same, that if Beans caught him on Christmas Eve, then something bad would happen to him like it would for Borrowers. Thatâs why they had to stay a secret. Why no one could know they were here.Â
But Santa wasnât a Borrower who lived in hiding unknown. The Beans knew about the jolly, present giving man that only appeared in December.Â
He could live among the Beans and it would be fine if he asked for help. Everyone liked Santa. He didnât take things just to survive. He gave toys and gifts so he would have no worries about the repercussions of taking a paperclip just to get around. He wouldnât have to worry about Beans hurting him if something went wrong. He would just use his magic and be fine.
It was Santaâs choice to stay hidden as an extra precaution to protect that same magic.Â
âBut youâre different from the Beans Santa.â The boy perked up instantly remembering why he was doing this in the first place. âYou only come out of hiding at Christmas and everyone knows who you are! You only hide to keep your magic safe from Beans so they canât have that too!âÂ
The man gave a small smile as the boy continued to ramble, pacing back and forth on his thigh as he did so.
âBut I donât understand why you give children presents when they already have so much!â Tommy stopped, his lips pursed together as his voice dropped to a whisper.
âUnlike me.â He confessed quietly, lifting his head to meet Santaâs sympathetic gaze.Â
Santa was staring at the young boy again, leaned forward in concern listening as the blonde continued to share his story.
âIt's why I need my gift Santa.â Tommy wringed his hands together with a nervous glance to see Santaâs reaction who nodded in approval, gesturing for him to continue.Â
Tommy steadied himself.
Now or never.
âI was brought here with basically nothing. Forced to move into the Beans walls or risk being seen. Iâve barely been able to get anything for basic survival and the walls are freezing!âÂ
Tommy shivered remembering the way the air had nipped at his nose as he struggled to keep warm. Clutching himself tightly in a poor attempt to retain any kind of body heat. The one time he went up stairs without his coat and of course he gets kidnapped.
He needed this.Â
More than anything.
.・â
*ââ*â*・*â*ââ*â
・.
Wilbur had just wanted to have the perfect Christmas.
It was his first time hosting and had decided he HAD to go all out.
More decorations than his little house needed both inside and out, homemade hot chocolate from scratch and had promised his Father and brother a very special Christmas surprise if they let him host.
Their first ever living Christmas tree and a surprise visit from the Big man himself- Santa Claus.
Heâd done a bunch or research into the best spots to go where he could get a tree and quickly had been recommended from several sites about the fir trees in Logstedshire, and quickly made the trip out to find a tree.
What the websites failed to mention, was that said fir trees might be inhabited and the home of tiny people that are terrified of Human Beings.Â
So if you asked: No, Wilbur was not having a good night realising he had kidnapped a child that was deathly afraid of him and only okay right now because he thought he was the real Santa Claus.Â
In a way, it was a good thing the kid hadnât realised yet, because if Wilbur had never dressed up in this silly costume, he probably would have never known about the child freezing to death in his walls.
The child was so cold despite their lively spirit when heâd caught them after they launched themself off the top of the shelf. The fact it wasnât the first time theyâd thrown themself from such a height made Wilbur sick knowing had they not been lucky, could very well not have made the long fall. But the fact the kid had been struggling, terrified and afraid in his walls when he could have helped had the guilt eating him away as the boy rambled on.
They were so sure of themselves with the cruelty of humanity too that they had him so on edge. If the blonde knew he was really the guy that had cut his tree down, he very much doubted they would be this enthusiastic. He was talking about how much he needed his gift- the gift he still had no clue what it was, but just hearing the little blondes tale, and seeing how thin his clothes were had Wilbur making a very long list of things he needed to get to help the kid out.Â
A kid which he still doesnât know the name of.
The boy's eyes had brightened, as he bounded up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly, talking about what this gift would mean for him. He was actually quite endearing despite their seemingly dire situation.
âIf I tell you my gift, then you can give it to me now and Iâll actually have a chance to survive the Winter!â He explained excitedly, grining.
Wilbur pushed down his anxiousness for the boys well-being. They had already suffered enough from his mistakes. He didnât want them to suffer any longer than they had by them accidentally discovering the truth.
âWhatâs your name kid?â Wilbur mentally slapped himself that he hadnât asked sooner.
The tiny boy chuckled to himself as they crossed their arms. âOh come on Santa, you know my name donât you? You have a list with every child's name on it.â
Ah- right. Santa did have that Naughty and Nice list didnât he? Curse Santa for having to live up to magical standards.
âUh- I came here in such a rush, I um- ah must have left my list back at the North Pole.â
âSo?â The boy argued, raising a brow. âYouâre magic. Donât you just know?â
Did he say endearing earlier? How about difficult for making him use his brain at 9pm at night. (Shut up. Donât judge him for it)
âWell you know thereâs like 2 Billion kids in this world and I see them all in one night. You donât expect me to remember every name without my list do you?â
The kid hadnât seemed to account for this, and thought it over before shrugging in agreement.Â
Oh thank goodness for kids being young and naive.Â
âI guess thatâs fair. But youâve got a s*** memory in that case Big Man. Getting old.âÂ
Actually, make that an annoying gremlin.
âI think if someone wants their present, they should be more careful about insulting their elders.â Wilbur teased with a chuckle. The boy rolled his eyes with a groan.Â
Okay, an endearing gremlin then.
âFiiiiiiiiine.â they drawled letting their arms drop to their sides before extending their hand up in greeting. âThe nameâs Tommy.â
Wilbur carefully lifted his arm up and slowly extended his pinky finger out for the boy to take in an oversized handshake.Â
âNice to meet you Tommy.â His finger dwarfed the boy entirely, his pinky finger only slightly shorter than the boy's total height, but nevertheless, Tommy took the tip and shook it lightly.
âNow, why donât you sit down and tell me what it is youâd like for Christmas?â
Wilbur couldnât help but smile at the little boy excitedly sharing in exact detail what he wanted. What the Borrower wanted wasnât even that difficult to get, and he knew exactly where to find it. Tommy continued to ramble on for a bit longer about what he had been doing since coming here and Wilbur made mental notes of the few places where Tommy talked about entrances in out of the walls for future reference.
He was going to have to look out for Tommy from now on and if he wanted a shred of hope in getting him to trust him as Wilbur, he was going to need a plan.
âSo could I have my gift now? I would really love it now and you still have a lot of other houses to visit tonight right?â Tommy asked innocently.
Wilbur really didnât want to stop talking to Tommy. Tommy trusted the magical Santa Claus; not regular Human Being Wilbur Soot. He knew that if he let Tommy go now, it was unlikely he would see the kid again, but if he didnât leave as Santa now, they would most likely get suspicious, realising he was a fake and panic.Â
Wilbur sighed as he brushed a stray hair of fake beard from under his cheek.
âI- yeah I guess so. Best get you to bed then too.âÂ
âAwwww but Iâm not sleepy yet!â The blonde pouted. âThis is normally when Iâm awake so it would be a crime to make me sleep now.â
âWell good little girls and boys go to bed when theyâre told if they want to stay on the nice list.â
âYouâre not the boss of me!â Tommy stuck his tongue out in defiance and Wilbur had to bite his to stop himself from bursting out loud laughing.Â
This kid was going to be the death of him he swears.
Wilbur extended his hand to the Borrower, keeping it steady as he waited for Tommy to climb on. Heâs still a little huffy at first realising there was no room for argument, but climbs on anyway, sitting down in the middle of Wilburâs palm bracing themself before he moves.
The brunette curls his fingers over the boy slightly, bringing his hand to his chest protectively. He tries not to linger too long at how it felt to hold an entire person in one hand for the second time tonight before moving to stand.Â
Steadily, Wilbur makes his way over to the book shelf and cautiously raises his hand up for Tommy to climb off of. He sets his hand down on the wooden surface and Tommy takes no time in hoping off to stand, waiting expectantly for his promised present. Â
âOkay I need you to close your eyes just for a second.â Wilbur asks the boy who quickly covers his eyes with his hands, only to peak out from behind his fingers seconds later.
âI mean it Tommy. Keep them closed.â
âUgggghhhhh Fineee!â the boy said huffing, but relented nevertheless.Â
Wilbur quickly whirled around and crouched down beneath the Christmas tree, snagging a gift from the floor and hastily tearing the gift tag labelled- Technoblade; from the gift before setting it next to the small borrower child.Â
âOkay, you can open your eyes now.âÂ
Tommy removed his hands and squealed in delight, quickly reaching down to hug the gift.Â
âOh thank you Santa! You really are the most poggers man ever!!!â Tommy spoke rapidly, smiling so much his cheeks hurt. âWell after me of course, but only by a little bit!âÂ
Wilbur chuckled as he gazed affectionately at the blonde hunched over the brightly wrapped gift. âYouâre welcome Tommy. Iâm glad you like it.â
The boy quickly stood, and started hauling the gift to the crack in the wall, as they tried to shove the gift through. Unfortunately while the crack had been enough for Tommy to squeeze through, it wasnât quite wide enough to let the present go in without getting a tad scrunched up and paper torn.Â
âUm, Tommy? Is there perhaps a bigger entrance I could take this too?â Wilbur suggested, cringing slightly as the boy gave another hard shove on the gift, intent on getting it through no matter what.
âItâll fit. Just gotta keep pushing it in.âÂ
After a few more attempts, the boy did in fact give up and relented their efforts allowing Wilbur to pull the now crumpled present back out from the crack, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and place it behind the toaster, assuring him he would get it before the Bean woke up explaining how the electrical socket actually came off as a secret entrance.
He offered to take Tommy over to it too, but the stubborn boy refused, insisting that he had done enough and needed to hurry up and deliver presents to the other children before the night was over.
Taking one more long look at the boy, Wilbur watched as Tommy disappeared through the crack into the walls, the sound of tiny footsteps pitter pattering away before Wilbur himself quietly crept back to his room before he removed the Santa costume and flopped down onto his bed.Â
Heâd just met a tiny child.
A tiny child trying to survive in his walls.
That was deathly afraid of him.
Quickly Wilbur shot up from his bed snatching his phone from the night stand; a plan forming in his mind. The screen read 9:31 pm before he hastily unlocked it and dove into his contacts, quickly stopping on a profile of a girl with light pink hair, dialling their number shortly after.
The phone rang twice before a woman answered on the other end.
âHello?â
âNiki? Hey! Howâs the holidays going?â Wilbur asked as he grabbed his coat and gloves from the wardrobe.
âSo I need a favourâŚâ
.・â
*ââ*â*・*â*ââ*â
・.
Tommy awoke warm for the first time that week.
He opened his eyes blearily, almost willing himself to fall back into dream land before his eyes snapped fully open. Tommy rubbed his eyes a few times, eyes going wide trying to comprehend that this was real and not just a dream as the thoughts of the previous night played through his head.
He was in his Christmas present: A brand new pair of bright red, fluffy woollen socks- the most perfect bed ever and exactly what Tommy had asked for. He had basically run to get his gift as fast as possible, before hauling it back through the walls to a space close by the bookshelf; the space seemingly much more homely after last night's introductions.Â
He hugged the woollen fabric tightly, smiling as he remembered the soft smile Santa had as he watched him go and how kind and gentle he had been with him the entire time.
The Borrower was so pleased and grateful that he had been able to meet the Santa Claus, and would cherish the magical night forever.
He stayed snuggled in his new bed for a little while longer before his stomach grumbled in protest that he should go and have something to eat. Albeit a little grumbly, his hunger eventually won out and Tommy made his way through the walls back to the kitchen so he could gather some food before the Bean woke up.
Stealthily, he removed the electrical socket, expecting to make it a quick supply run; stepping out into the open before freezing in surprise.
Laid out in a neat pile behind the toaster was a small stack of brightly wrapped gifts all wrapped in different coloured and patterned paper, and right in the middle, an envelope with his name written in gold cursive. Tommy smiled brightly, as he eagerly ran forward to the awaiting stack of gifts, quickly grabbing a gift reading the label.Â
To: Tommy
From: Santa
Tommy denies that he cried that day.Â
That he took each gift home and opened each one oh so delicately, afraid if he didnât they might just disappear, happy tears trailing down his cheek as he opened a gift revealing a beautiful, blue knitted sweater- and in just his size.Â
His tears didnât cease as he opened the other gifts revealing several new pairs of warm winter clothes, new rope and hooks for climbing, some tea candles with a tiny piece of flint and steel to light them, and the tiniest iced cookies he had ever seen. He could actually hold this in one hand like humans did and he had a whole bag of them!!! His prayers had been answered and he couldnât be more thankful.
Soon, the only thing that remained was the envelope.
He dried his face as best he could, doing his best to not smear any tears or snot onto the pristine surface as he opened the envelope, revealing a card with a picture of glitter candy canes decorating the front.Â
Settled back into his new bed, Tommy opened the card and read the message inside.
Dear Tommy,
It was lovely meeting you and getting
to know your story. I figured you mightÂ
like some extra gifts as well to help you
be more comfortable in Wilburâs walls.
I think you should try talking to him.Â
You might be surprised.
Sincerely,
Santa Claus
P.S- Heâs not as scary as you think.
Tommyâs smile became puzzled as he reread the last few lines.
Who the heck was Wilbur?
Was that the name of the Bean that lived here?
Oh come on, that's not fair! How come Santa knew Wilburâs name but not his!
He grumbled a little bit at the thought, but his mind kept drawing back to the last line of the card.
âHeâs not as scary as you think.â
âHmpf, you keep saying that.â Tommy grumbled.Â
What was with Santaâs insistence on this?
As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Santa for putting forward such a ridiculous idea, Tommy decided to drag himself out of bed and to the book shelf crack. The Bean had gotten up not long after Tommy had made it back to his new home, but heâd been a tad too distracted to really care about how slow and heavy they had been trudging about this morning unlike their usually poised self.
Currently, said Bean was sitting on the couch, the exact same spot he and Santa had been last night, absentmindedly staring at his hand.
How could Santa think this guy was any good? They had kidnapped him unknowingly, almost let him die from hypothermia unknowingly, destroyed the top of his home unknowingly and Santa still thinks they wonât hurt him?
Okay so maybe it wasnât their fault all those things happened just because they didnât know he was there, but that doesnât mean theyâre not still very capable of hurting him for having to do all those things. But then again, Santa knew who was naughty or nice. And he wouldnât ask him to do something that would endanger his safety if this âWilburâ guy wasnât a good person right?
Tommy observed the Bean a little longer, as they ran their thumb over their palm. Their normally neat curly hair was all over the place and he could have sworn there were black bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. They suddenly turned their head and were staring straight at his crack by the book shelf. The Borrower was certain they couldnât see him from the couch, but ducked back just slightly in case.
The Bean simply sighed as a small smile graced their features. Tommy was right about the black bags. Bean did not look like they had slept at all.Â
He thought back to what Santa had said.Â
I think you should try talking to him.
They certainly didnât seem dangerous. Maybe they really werenât bad like the Jolly man said?
But was it really worth taking the risk and talking to this guy?
Before he could dwell on it for much longer, the door bell sounded and Wilbur snapped his head to the sound before standing and stretching; their limbs popping and cracking slightly from their limited use. Before he left the living room, the man stopped and stared at his crack once more. Tommy didnât dare breathe as they simply smiled and shook their head, before exiting and headed towards the front door.
Tommy allowed himself to exhale as the sound of footsteps got further away.
âWeirdo.â Tommy muttered to himself as he pushed himself back from the crack and began to head back to his bed for a well deserved rest.
Heâd think about what Santa said, and just maybe heâd talk to this- Wilbur. If not, he hoped he'd meet Santa again so he could thank them in person.
Once he was back in his bed, Tommy quickly slipped in snuggling down, allowing himself to drift off to the chatter of beings much larger than himself from beyond the walls.
âWil! So good to see you! Itâs been ages!â
âHi Dad, thanks for letting me host. Iâm so glad you and Techno could make it!
âSo are we, but you look like shit mate. Up late again? Wouldn't be related to that surprise you were telling us about?â
âYou could say thatâŚâÂ
.・â
*ââ*â*・*â*ââ*â
・.
Tommy never did meet Santa Claus again.
The card proudly on display in his new home, a secret hope he would one day and a constant reminder of what Santa had asked him to try.
And maybe one day, Tommy would finally take up the old man's advice and go and speak to Wilbur, and discover perhaps they may have been right.
Maybe then heâd finally have a friend to keep him warm during the holiday seasons and to rely on like he had wished.Â
One that seemed to always know just what he needed despite never telling them, and was very insistent about never wearing Santa costumes.
No matter how many times a little boy beggedâŚ.
Â Ë Ë Ë â
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That was a lot of words....
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING TO THE END! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it and it means a lot you read all the way through <3
Tag List: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10
And cue rant:
Honestly you guys have no idea just how much you all mean to me an in this community and the impact you've had on me in the last year alone. I could not be more thankful for being apart of this and getting to know you guys. Getting so back into writing has been really good for me and rekindled something I love so I can't thank you enough.
And even though I know I've been a little quieter online, I'm still here lurking about and working on projects. A lot has happened in the last few months alone and I'm quite happy that I'm limiting myself to be a bit more healthier with my online habits.
Anyways thanks so much if you read this far!
Thanks to my Beta readers @a-xyz-s squishy and munchkin for reading this for me, and I wish you all a very safe and wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!
-Beckyu â¤ď¸
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sambucus for demon summoning please
27. demon summoning
Lightning cracks across the sky and Sam winces as the rain gets heavier, glad that he made it back home before the worst of the storm rolled in. When Sarah had asked him to please pick up some supplies for the family's upcoming Halloween party, his quick trip into New Orleans had turned into an all day affair.
Not that Sam minds, really: he missed the last couple Halloweens, between Cap duty and being Blipped out of existence, so he's looking forward to making up for it this year. He even asked not to be on call for the day, so barring any universe-threatening catastrophes, he shouldn't miss a thing.
With his plans for an evening run decidedly rained out, Sam turns his attention to the bags of decorations that he'd picked up from town, deciding that the responsible thing to do would be checking to make sure nothing was damaged in the car. If the bags of candy make their way out along with the decorations, that's just because he wanted to check that they hadn't melted in the heat.
Sam is just lifting a ceramic candle holder--skull shaped, naturally--out of its bag when he feels a sharp but brief pain on his palm, a stinging sensation lingering in its wake. It's not until he sets down the candle holder and sees red at its base that he even realizes what happened: there must have been a chip somewhere on the base, and it cut his hand when he went to lift it up.
It doesn't seem serious, but as he looks at his palm, he sees that it was deep enough for some blood to well up, and as he turns his hand to examine the cut closer, a drop of it falls from his palm. He'd be worried about his carpet, but he's right above the coffee table, so the blood lands on the kitschy Halloween-themed kerchief that one of the stores had thrown in for free with his purchase.
Sam pulls a tissue from the box on the table to press against the cut, but just before he can turn to find his first aid kit, there's a boom that rattles the very walls of the house. Smoke is rising from the scrap of fabric on the coffee table, and suddenly Sam's nose is filled with the smell of burning leaves and the sharp cold of winter, of gunpowder and hot iron.
He would be reaching for the fire extinguisher, or his phone, or something, if the smoke hadn't dissolved in what Sam could only describe as a reverse tornado, leaving in its place a--
Well, Sam would call him a man, except that most men that Sam knows don't have horns. Or a tail. Or the ability to poof into places they most certainly have never been before. He's in a suit, though--all black, three pieces, tailored if Sam had to guess--so wherever this guy comes from, he knows what a person should look like.
It should be terrifying. It's certainly unsettling. But Sam's Captain America, dammit. He completed all his extraterrestrial interaction training modules, and passed the assessments on the first try. And though he knows Redwing has already clocked the presence of an unknown party inside the house and is ready to call for help, he also knows that leading with aggression is never a good idea, even if someone has all the appearances of a threat.
"Hello," he says, trying to project the same steady confidence that he does at press conferences. "My name is Sam, and you're inside my home right now. Do you know how you got here?"
The not-quite-man doesn't say anything, just tilts his head and looks Sam up and down, his blue eyes sharp and attentive. If he didn't know any better, Sam would say there was a smirk on his handsome face.
He tries again, bringing a hand up to his chest. "Sam," he says slowly, gesturing to himself. "What's your name?"
"Nice to meet you, Sam," comes the reply, in a drawling, somehow familiar accent. "That's a real funny question, by the way."
"What, they don't ask peoples' names where you're from?"
A snort. He crosses his arms and Sam notices for the first time that his hands are gloved. "Oh, my kind ask for names plenty. I meant you asking how I got here."
"How's that funny?" asks Sam, narrowing his eyes. Part of him is already debating what'll be more annoying, continuing this conversation or inevitably dealing with Dr. Strange when it goes south.
"Because you called me here," the guy says, and begins to look around. "Where is here, by the way?"
Sam opens his mouth to reply, but cuts himself off when the guy tilts his head towards the nearest window, like he's listening out for something. Between the storm and the double glazing, Sam almost tells him that it's hopeless, except then:
"Bullfrogs. Rain. Marshland," says the guy. Then he sniffs the air, and instead of describing the muffins that Sam baked, he says, "Magnolias and bald cypress. We're in Louisiana. I don't think I've been here before."
That, for whatever reason, is the final straw. "Okay," says Sam. "This is over now. I don't know if JoaquĂn set up this prank, or Rhodey, or if this is Thor's brother who's dead but not actually, but...whatever this is, it's over now. Get out of my house."
Suit guy looks over at Sam again, almost with that same lazy, assessing gaze from before, except that his eyes are sharper now. "This isn't a prank," he says. "How do you not know that when you're the one who just summoned a demon?"
"I did fucking what now?"
With an eye roll, the guy leans over and lifts the kerchief from the coffee table, gingerly pinched between his gloved fingers. There are a few drops of blood on it, almost dead center.
"You spilled your blood on a rune of binding," says the guy, frustration in his voice now. He points to a symbol on the fabric. "This literally has my name on it. It binds me to the summoner. You summoned me and bound me here."
"I didn't even draw those," says Sam. "I got that thing for free at some tourist trap. Maybe it was an accident."
"This paint was made of ground bones and cypress ash and earth from this city," he snaps, and suddenly the room feels just a little bit warmer. "Do you usually mix custom paint with ritual ingredients for an accident?"
Sam wants to brush him off, but now that he thinks about it, the young woman at the counter had dropped the kerchief into his bag without asking. She'd only explained herself when he asked about it, and though she'd said they were giving them to all the customers, he doesn't remember seeing any more anywhere in the store.
"Fine," says Sam. "Let's say I believe that you're a demon and somehow I summoned you. I don't want you around anymore. You're un-summoned. You can leave."
The--ugh, it hurts to say even inside his head--demon just blinks at Sam, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"Shut up," Sam says. "I don't know how this shit works."
"Clearly," says demon guy. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been tricked into summoning an arch-fiend, now would you?"
"Stop saying that like it's a normal thing. I don't care where you're from. That's not a normal thing here."
"What, you were prepared for me to be an alien, but summoning a demon is too far?"
Sam grits his teeth. "Yes."
"Well, don't worry about getting used to it," says the--what did he call himself? arch-fiend? "Once I find this shop and whoever made these runes, this will all be over."
"I'm not letting you kill someone," Sam says immediately. "I don't care what she did. We'll figure out a way to deal with her, or get her to reverse it, but you're not killing her just for revenge."
For the first time, Sam's new demon friend glares at him, and suddenly it's a whole lot easier to believe that he's from somewhere infernal. "I wasn't going to kill her," he says, his voice soft but scarier for it. "I don't do that. But I can be...persuasive when I want to be. I thought I might try asking nicely."
Sam snorts. "Is that something you know how to do?"
The demon raises an eyebrow at Sam. "You want to find out?"
The room is still a little warm. Sam moves to open a window, not looking back at his houseguest until he's felt some cool air on his face. "I want to learn whatever it is I have to learn to get you out of my hair," says Sam. "I don't have time to keep a pet demon; I already have President Ross on my ass about what it means to be Captain America, and--"
"What did you say?" asks the demon, his eyes narrowed. "Did you just say Captain America?"
"Yeah," says Sam, pointing to where the shield rests against the couch. "I've been Cap for a year now."
For the first time since he materialized in Sam's living room, the demon looks troubled. "But it was someone before you?"
"Yeah," says Sam. "My best friend. Why?"
But the demon just shakes his head. "Just sounded familiar, is all. We have more important things to deal with."
"Well, nobody's dealing with those things at 7 PM in a tropical storm," says Sam. "And I'm starving, so I'm gonna eat. Do demons eat? You want some?"
The demon shakes his head. "Don't trouble yourself. You didn't mean to summon me; I'm not going to impose."
"Man, you really haven't been down here before, huh?" says Sam, crossing into the kitchen. He reaches up to open the cabinet for plates, then hisses in pain, remembering the cut on his palm only after it pulls sharply. "Shit. Forgot about that."
"Oh," says the demon. "Here, let me."
And Sam, for whatever reason, thinks that he's talking about the dishes. Instead, when he takes a few steps closer, the demon murmurs some words and waves a hand, and Sam feels heat wrap around his injured palm, the warmth of a fire just before it gets too hot. After a few seconds, the feeling goes away, and when Sam looks down at his palm, it's like there was never a cut there to begin with.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam can see the demon looking entirely too amused by what must be a look of complete shock on Sam's face. The only way he knows to move past it is to wash his hands at the sink, in spite of the lack of blood, and finish grabbing the plates from the cabinet.
"Grab a seat," he says. "And, uh- thank you..."
He trails off expectantly, waiting for a name, which he's just now realizing he never got. The demon looks at him for a moment, those blue eyes still just a little too canny.
"Bucky," he finally says. "Call me Bucky."
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Chris sturniolo x fem!reader
Proofread:Yupp
Word count:559
WARNINGS:nothing!
A/N:this is pt2 of love birds so if you havenât read that then you should bc itâs like the set ip for this, also itâs just rlly cute so yea.btw Iâm working on the pt2 for âjealous girlâ I swear, I just donât know how to end it rllyđ
𦹠đŚš
âJesus itâs cold as fuck in here, can someone turn the heat onâ I asked once I got in my seat.i donât even know how the two boys were in here for so long.it was like 30 degrees.Boston winters are too much sometimes
âNah cause the heaters super loud and the camera will probably pick it up.âMatt responded as he set up the camera in question.I didnât want to be rude so I just nodded and opened my phone to answer some snaps while Matt placed the camera on the dashboard and went outside to check if we were in focus.
âYou can have my hoodie, I donât really need it.âChris suggested, probably not realizing the camera was on.before I could even answer he was taking his sweatshirt off and passing it back to me.
I thanked him as I slid it on.the smell of cologne hit my nose almost immediately. âCold as fuck out there jeezâMatt huffed as he got back into the car.
âItâs not that badâNick, who was decked out in warm clothing, responded.
It had been about 5 minutes now and I realized that I hadnât opened either one of my drinks yet.when I was in the store I didnât realize that the Fanta I had picked up was in a can,meaning I couldnât open it due to my nails.
âMatt, can you open this?'' I asked over Chris and Nick bickering back and forth about if dogs were really dumb or not.normally I wouldâve turned to my right and just asked Nick but I didnât want to interrupt this sibling bonding moment he was having.
Matt didnât respond in words.only showing me his freshly painted nails which were black and white.there was no use in asking Nick seeing as he was knee deep in his run-on sentence at the moment.
Chris, who was actively making fun of his brother, was my last option. Just as he was about to yell back at Nick I tapped his shoulder.halting his sentence.he turned his head back to look at me.
âCan you open this for meâI said in a regular tone in contrast to everyone else in the car.his face softened once he saw me.his hyper,loud personality dropped as he answered my question.
âYea sureâhe said in a normal voice as well.his actions were simple.he grabbed the can, popped it open and then handed it back to me.such small,basic movements but charming nonetheless.
We were now on the outro.Matt had grabbed the camera and turned it towards Chris, expecting him to do something weird like he always does.but instead of that he was turned around again,talking to me.
âDid you do something new with your hair,it looks nice.''was all he said.no more than 15 words but enough to turn me a flushed color.
The look in his pale eyes was genuine.not a glimpse of anything but the truth in them.something I wasnât used to with him.we would make fun of each other constantly.compliments either way weâre weird.maybe if he saw how I felt for him and we became something more they wouldnât be as rare as they were right now.
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Ambrose and Elliot #20
Masterpost
Previous
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Warnings: briefly mentioned past torture
Ambrose said snow would be falling soon, and Elliot was terrified. The weather was colder here than his old masterâs land. The wood floors wouldnât be so bad when winter came, but snow was snow and snow was deadly.
Once, his old master had thrown him outside as a punishment. He nearly died from the cold and ice, and had to beg until he passed out to be let back in. The doctor said it was a miracle of the gods he hadnât lost any fingers or toes.Â
Elliot had more clothes than heâd ever had in his life now, but would it be enough?
He had two blankets, woolen socks, gloves and mittens, a great big coat, everything. But the fluttering hollow of anxiety inside him wasnât satisfied.Â
He got up early, before dawn, to sneak wood into his room. Ambrose didnât come in often, so he hopefully wouldnât notice the pile of extra wood in the corner.
What else would he need?Â
Elliot remembered the tiny closet his old master locked him in. It was the best place to be in that horrible house when snow fell. It warmed him up because it was so little and stuffy. Ambrose didnât have a closet that was both big enough for him to sit in and small enough to trap heat.
Elliot stole a blanket from the linen closet and lined his wardrobe with it. If it got cold enough, he could hide from winter inside it.
He began to squirrel away food and water under his bed. It was bad of him, but he needed it. He couldnât take another winter hungry and freezing. Elliot had gotten two glass jugs and filled them with water. He also wrapped up some smoked and salted pork Ambrose had stored away downstairs. He tucked several apples into a small sack, and stole a jar of pickled veggies and a tin of nuts from the storeroom. Master Ambrose had made dozens of jars and had been smoking and salting meat for ages. He wouldnât notice anything wrong.Â
___________________
Elliot thought he was being sneaky, but Ambrose knew something was off right away. It just took him a few days to figure it out.Â
He was going to use those two jugs to make mead, but oh well. Elliotâs little stash was all shelf-stable, so he wasnât going to discourage him.Â
The wood wasnât a problem either. In all honesty, Ambrose probably should do the same thing. It would save him a lot of trips outside.
Ambrose didnât have to wonder for long why Elliot was so twitchy lately. He kept glancing out the window at the sky, poking around in the fireplaces, making hot drinks and steaming meals.
He didnât want to think about why Elliot was so scared of the cold. Ambrose was certain it stemmed from something horrible. Elliotâs quirks were almost always some coping mechanism to avoid pain.
Ambrose didnât know how cold it would get this year. But Elliot would be fine, even without his secret cache of food. He wasnât going to try and talk him out of his fear, it didnât work like that. Winter would always have some level of danger, so there was no use reasoning with him. Ambrose could only hope Elliot would relax when he realized he would be alright.
___________________
The snow fell down gently, in large flakes. It was pretty, but the bubbling anxiety in his chest kept him from watching for long. He got through his chores as quickly as possible and retreated to his bedroom.
He closed the curtains. He didnât want to see the proof of winter looming outside. The room was warm and toasty and he was content to curl up and wait. If he had to spend all season in here, then so be it.
âSweetheart,â called Master from behind the door, âI made some hot chocolate. Iâm going to toast some marshmallows downstairs. You can join me if you want.â
Hm. That did sound pretty nice. He pulled a blanket over his shoulders and peeked out into the hall. It didnât seem cold.Â
He made his way downstairs, and there was a roaring fire in the dining room fireplace. Ambrose waved at him from a chair sat in front of the fire. He felt a little more settled, and he eyed the steaming mugs of hot chocolate and the tray of cheese and crackers.Â
Ambrose was, in fact, toasting marshmallows. He ate one right off the stick, and Elliot found himself smiling as he went to sit next to him.
Ambrose handed him a prepared stick with a marshmallow on it. It was fun to toast them, and Ambrose showed him he could plop one into his mug and it would get all melt-y.
It was pretty hard to remember how scared he was when they were eating snacks and sipping on sweet drinks all afternoon.Â
Maybe winter wouldn't be so bad this year.
taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone
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4. first day.
chapter four to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .
full contents here.
summary: itâs your first day at jujutsu metropolitan hospitalâs free clinic. what are the chances you bump into that handsome stranger from the bar?
It had been like this for a month now. Satoru would coax Kento to come out to the bar with him and Suguru after work, despite Satoru not being one to drink alcohol in the first place. It was undoubtedly a pity invite.
Kento had been a shell for some time now. Food had no flavor, coffee lost its richness, the sounds around him became static, and colors were neutral. The people around him at work noticed how empty Kento had become after the wedding incident, but Satoru noticed it long before Kento was left at the alter.
Yu Haibaraâs younger sister, Asami Haibara, was introduced to Kento about five years ago. He hadnât any interest her, but they were both new to Jujutsu Metropotlian. Asami as a pharmaceutical rep, Kento as a doctor who had just transferred to the hospital, thanks to Yuâs recommendation.
They got to know each other slowly and began casually seeing each other after a year. The next, they moved in together. Things died down then, became boring and routine, and because of routine, they were engaged.
Somewhere in the midst of it, Kento had begun losing pieces of himself.
He stopped cooking, stopping trying new recipes, which was something he loved to do after work as a way to unwind. He stopped buying his favorite coffee beans, since it no longer tasted bold. He just bought the instant coffee closest to the cash registers in stores. He stopped listening and talking to others, no one realized how much quieter Kento could get than he already was.
The trips out to the bars were Satoruâs way of trying to bring back some joy into his friendâs life. Women would flirt with the trio, being handsome doctors will bring that sort of attention to you. Kento was never interested, though Suguru and Satoru would always find new partners to entertain.
Until yesterday.
What he thought was going to be another repeat of the numerous last weeks turned into something he didnât think heâd experience.
You had caught his attention. You were captivating, beautiful, funny. He admired your boldness when you asked for a drink. He wouldâve bought you every single drink the bar could make if you asked. He had noticed the vibrant shade of your hair, the sound of your laughter, and he loved the taste of your mouth on his.
It had been like the sun finally crept up from behind the mountains on an early winter morning, stepping out of the shade into the sunlight to have the coldness on his fingertips melt away.
He felt his skin heating up every time you leaned into his touch, the palms of his hands dampening with nervous sweat. He didnât know what to say, but he knew he wanted to keep hearing your voice. Then, he asked you to leave with him, and you said yes.
Then, he cuts his time with you short. He didnât mean to, but the sensation of you was so overwhelming and he hadnât felt overwhelmed in years. You tried to be nice about it, but he knows about the stigma of cumming too early with a woman.
He never had to worry much about the stigma affecting his life. Kento has only had a couple partners, one in high school, a fling in college, and his ex fiancĂŠe. All three remember Kentoâs cock more than they remember him. His stamina nearly knew no end with them, and though it sounded pleasurable, it wasnât so much for Kento. All he did was chase the high only for it to get farther and farther away with all of the three women heâd slept with.
But with you, he had been bursting at the seams.
Yes, he was disappointed in himself at first. He wanted to feel your warmness around his dick and hear you when he made you cum around him.
He left the bar in his car soon after you exited. He messaged Satoru he had gone home, which Satoru responded with three thumbs down emojis, followed by a text of a winking face.
Kento thinks of you on his way to his front door. His cum is now hard and uncomfortable in his pants, and even though he wants to do nothing but shower, he canât help but smile thinking of you. Perhaps, he liked that you made him feel so good so quick.
_________
You and your roommates stand in front of Jujutsu Metropolitan Hospital for a minute before making your way to the clinic portion to the side of the building. You were a bundle of nerves in the morning. If Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji felt the same, then they had a better way of hiding it than you.
Dr. Gojo greets you four in the clinic. You wonder why a doctor like him is doing the tedious task of hiring scribes and showing them around.
He splits you four into two groups, Yuji and Nobara in one, Megumi and you in another. The other pair are introduced to Dr. Ieiri, who they will be working with today. You and Megumi stay with Dr. Gojo for the day.
You learn the basics of Dr. Gojo preferences for his chart notes. Minimal, only medical information, he says he'll remember everything else on his own. You and Megumi both grab a hospital laptop to carry with you and you take turns writing the chart notes as you follow Dr. Gojo around to each exam room and patient.
Dr. Gojo is actually a neurosurgeon but he hasn't done surgery in nearly one year. You're not sure why and you don't want to ask. He sees Dr. Geto's post-op patients, who is also a neurosurgeon, and has taken over all of Satoru's surgical cases.
Satoru has a unique way of treating patients. Old ladies adore him, kids love him, young people prefer him. It's mostly because he spends the entire visit charming his patients with medical stories and facts of his personal life, which they all loved to hear. Then, after spending 25 minutes blabbing about everything other than medicine, he performs a couple of neurological exams and sends them on their way.
âAlright, my dear.â Dr. Gojo says, wrapping up with his last patient before lunch. It was a sweet elder lady who wore two wedding rings on her left hand, one clearly hers and the other not. Satoru offers his arm for her to hold on to and leads the elderly patient out of the exam room. âCall us if you start getting headaches often. Dr. Geto may have to crack you open again.â
The elderly patient giggles at Dr. Gojo's savage description of surgery. She so used to others walking on eggshells because of her age, so Dr. Gojo makes her feel young again with how real he is with her.
You and Megumi go on your lunch break, getting lost for ten minutes before finally finding the cafeteria in the hospital. You join up with Yuji and Nobara, who look depressed and pale. Turns out, Dr. Ieiri is a surgical oncologist and regularly deals with terminal patients. This fact had really darkened their day.
You and Megumi try to cheer them up, but nothing seems to work. Until you spot a very familiar older man with blonde hair sitting in the cafeteria a few tables away from you. You nearly choke on your salad, Megumi having to pat your back to help you out.
âI know something that's gonna cheer you up, Nobara.â
âDoubt it.â
âI see the guy from the bar. Like, the guy. Don't turn aroundâI said don't!â
Yuji had whipped his head over his shoulder, looking back at the tables and staff members behind you guys. He can't seem to find him and his eyes scan the room again and again. âI don't see him. Actually, what does he look like?â
You duck your head low, slapping Yuji's forearms repeatedly to get him to turn back around. You whisper-scream for him to stop and he does.
âDon't tell me he works here.â You whine, resting your forehead on the cool plastic lunch table. Nobara can't help but laugh, she's considerate enough to laugh quietly, but nonetheless she's laughing.
Megumi is seated next to you, facing the direction of where Kento sits at. âHe's looking over here.â
You have to quit, right? This was a great opportunity, you met new people, saw your old friend, but now you have to move back home.
You pick your head up from the table and slowly look over to where you saw Kento. He sat at a table with a dark haired man wearing a white coat, and Kento was looking right at you.
Youâre getting yourself a drink from a vending machine inside the cafeteria, theyâre free for employees and you know youâll need a pick me up after lunch. You suddenly feel a presence near you. You turn and look and see Kento standing near you.
You give Kento a sheepish smile. âHiâŚâ
âHello.â He greets. His shoulders donât seem tense or rigid like they did when you first bumped into him. âYou work here?â
âFirst day. Iâm a new medical scribe for the free clinic.â
Kento nods, thinking to himself. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
âWe donât have to talk about it, we can forget about⌠us in your car.â You offer him an out.
âI donât want to.â He replied confused.
âYou donât want to talk about it. Good, Iââ
âI donât want to forget about it.â Kento clarifies. His voice doesnât waver, it sounds so certain and so sure of himself.
Maybe the out you offered was more for you than for him. You suck in a quick breath, feeling awkward. âI do. I was just looking for a one-time thing, and now weâre working at the same place, weâre bound to see each other here at some point. Itâs just not a good idea.â
A little harsh, Kento didnât expect that. He was going to offer to take you out to dinner, get to know you more, then fuck you right this time. He hadn't stopped thinking of the feeling of your skin. He missed feeling.
He doesnât say anything back, and you can see the hurt on his stoic face. You say your goodbye to him as he stays silent and go back to your roommates to return back to work.
The second half of the day was a lot slower. You, Megumi, and Dr. Gojo had time to go through patient charts and Dr. Gojo was nice enough to teach you both about a few things. Heâd bring up CT scans and MRIs of patient brains, explain each quadrant, explain what he sees, then quiz you both on the next one. You can tell youâll learn a lot by working here.
âWhat specialties are you guys interested in?â Satoru asks. Itâs an hour before the clinic closes and itâs slow. He twirls back and forth on the chair at the nurse station.
Megumi clears his throat and mumbles something. You and Satoru both furrow your brows and ask him to repeat himself. He does, louder. âPediatrics.â
You canât help but have a big smile on your lips. Itâs so cute, thinking of grumpy Megumi working with babies and kids in the future. You and Satoru giggle to each other until itâs your turn to answer.
âI⌠donât know yet.â You admit, guiltily.
Satoru stands up from his chair, and you notice for the first time that day, how captivating he is. His hair is so bright, it looks like freshly fallen snow. His eyes are so crystal blue clear you can nearly see yourself in them. His voice and smile are so alluring, itâs no wonder why all the patients fond over him and all the nurses do anything he asks. He stands tall with broad shoulders, his white doctor coat doesnât make him look any smaller than he is, it frames him nicely.
âMaybe youâll join neuro and be with me.â He suggests, his voice honey smooth. You find yourself nodding, agreeing to whatever he just suggested.
Youâre snapped out of your gaze when you hear a familiar voice call out for Dr. Gojo creeping up from behind you. Itâs your stranger from the bar, heâs walking towards you (Dr. Gojo) to hand him some papers. He wore a scrub cap, clearly coming out of some kind of surgery.
âKento!â Satoru smiles brightly, like he hadnât seen him in a while. âI want you to meet our new scribes, theyâll be working with you tomorrow in clinic.â
Your eyes widen just for a second, no one but Kento really notices it. He offers a really small but polite smile, and heâs meant to be looking at the both of you, but his eyes lock onto yours only. âI look forward to working with you.â
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I Don't Know Which Way's Home
Chapter 13: Birthday
ao3 link, Part 1, Part 12
cw: minor dissociative episode, talks of depression
January 1986
Julie stands at the bus stop, hands shoved as far as they can into her jacket. Itâs not exactly a winter coat, but with another layer underneath, itâs not bad. Her cheeks might be red, and her nose might be freezing, but it was just for a few minutes. Then the bus would come, and while it would only be slightly better than the temperature outside, she at least wouldnât freeze.
That is, if she didnât miss the bus.
She woke up ten minutes later than normal, which is a lot when the bus already likes to come five minutes early and not even stop when no one is waiting there. And when her normal morning routine consists of getting dressed in something she hoped worked together and drinking a cup of coffee as fast as she can without burning herself, missing the bus was more common than sheâd like to admit.
The snow on the ground crunches against her weight as she pokes it with her foot. Trying something to bide the time before just giving up and going home. Sheâll miss the day, but it could be worse. Having a day off of school for her birthday was a treat when she was a kid. Now it was just a sick reminder that she would spend a majority of the day alone. Fuck managers for scheduling her mom for a double and no one wanting to take one of her shifts.
It's fine, Julie convinces herself. Itâs always fine. Her mom will be home at night, and theyâll have a piece of shitty cake that she bought from the convenience store, and itâll be fine. So, what if it was her sixteenth birthday. Didnât make it that different from her fifteenth, or her fourteenth. Not like it was a big year for her. There was no way she could afford to get a driverâs license. Itâs just another average day that happened to be the day she was born.
A car speeds out of the parking spot down the street, music blaring, barely stopping at the stop sign sheâs standing at. Julie definitely missed the bus.
The window rolls down and the music gets louder, as if it possibly could. Eddie Munson says something to her that she canât hear. She makes a confused face that causes him to turn the music down.
âI was asking if you needed a ride?â he says, leaning his arm outside the window.
Julie debates taking it. Deciding whether a day spent with people she can barely tolerate is better than a day by herself in a barely heated trailer. But being around some people might be better than being around no one.
âAs long as you promise not to drive like a maniac.â
Eddie laughs. âI can make no promises. But youâll get there in one piece.â
Julie shrugs, walking around the car to get into the passenger seat. She can barely get the seatbelt clicked before Eddieâs speeding out of the trailer park and on the way to school. He turns up the music again, but not as blaring as it was last time. Somewhat considerate.
âYou ok?â Eddie tries to start conversation. âYou look pissed.â
Julie scoffs. âWell, I did miss the bus on the coldest fucking day possible. So, I am pissed.â
âYeah sure but looks like thereâs something else.â He speeds up to pass under the light just before it turns red. âYou donât have to talk to me, but you could. If you wanted to.â
âIâm not going to join your DnD club, if thatâs what youâre after. Not going to magically work this time.â
Eddie dramatically hits his chest. âIâll wear you down some day. But that wasnât what I was asking.â
This isnât the first time Eddieâs driven her to school. Or the first time heâs offered to listen when sheâs had a bad day. Or just needed to rant. They werenât friends. They were barely acquaintances. But he had this thing where he went around and adopted freshmen into his little crew. She was one of those lucky targets. But it didnât work. Fully.
He was still there, like a presence she couldnât quite get rid of. It was nice some days. To have someone who was generally a good person, despite their image, to talk to when she needed it. Sometimes she just needed a neutral ear to give her some advice. Especially since she really didnât have anyone to talk to about this anymore.
âItâs my birthday today,â Julie said quietly, hoping the music would drown her out. âAnd my momâs not going to be around for most of it.â
Eddie sucks in a breath. âWell, that sucks. How old are you today?â
âSixteen.â
âDamn, a big one. Double sucks.â
Julie picks at her cold fingers. âYeah. And I canât even be mad at her. She tried to get someone to cover for her at work, but no one would step up. And we need the money, so she canât risk calling out or getting fired. I just wished she wasnât scheduled today of all days.â
âI get it. Wayne works doubles all the time, and some would fall on the big days. It sucks cause you feel like you donât get a say in how you feel about it. But you do. No one gets to tell you how to feel other than yourself. You can be mad, even at your mom. Just a little bit. But if she tried, thatâs a lot better than other people would do.â
He pulls into the school and finds an empty parking spot. All the way in the back of the lot since theyâre so late.
âAnd, for what itâs worth, happy birthday.â
âThanks. For that and for the ride.â
Eddie shrugs. âNo problem.â
. . .
Julie sits at the counter, eating her breakfast like normal. Steve trying, and probably failing, to sneak glances to her to gage her mood. To see if anythingâs shifted. If this week is going to be worse than the last one.
Steve knows that itâs her birthday on Saturday. He remembered the date from when he saw her birth certificate and marked it on his calendar a little while later. Julie can either be ok with it like Christmas, or it can be bad like her momâs birthday. But Steve doesnât know, and he doesnât want to bring it up. He should, and he will. He just doesnât want to ruin what could be a bad day with the reminder.
Julie rolls her eyes, looking up from her bowl of cereal. âWhat, Steve?â
He forgets how obvious he is sometimes. âNothing,â he tries to play off.â
âYouâre doing that thing where you look like you want to say something but are worried if it will affect me. Just say it.â
Steve looks down at his plate. âI was just, wondering, I guess. I remembered your birthday is on Saturday and wanted to know if you wanted to do anything.â He should really stop talking, but he doesnât. âWe donât have to do anything at all, really. I barely celebrate my own birthday but thought it was worst mentioning because I donât know what you do. Or did, before, well you know.â Heâs cut off when Julie starts laughing. âWhat?â
âItâs nothing. You just sound so much like Robin right now. You guys really do share a brain.â
âWe do not,â Steve starts to say defensively before giving in. âOk fine, we might just a little. But seriously, your birthday.â
Julie pushes her food around with her spoon. âWe never really did anything big. When I was little, it was pancake mountains with every topping. But after a while, she stopped being able to get off work. So it was store bought cake after school, or after nine.â
âWould you want to do that?â
She takes a second to think before answering. Pressing her lips together in thought. âMaybe not exactly. I canât predict how Iâm going to feel when I wake up. I might be ok, but I might not.â
Steve leans forward so he can see her better. âHow are you feeling about it now?â
âSad,â she whispers. âLike I know somethingâs missing. I know whoâs missing. But not, like, sobbing sad. Just that little ache that never quite goes away. But amplified just a little bit.â
âYeah, I know what you mean.â Heâs known it for far longer than he should have. âHow about this, we wait until the morning of to see how youâre feeling. I have the day off from work, so thereâs no rush. Iâll be here. If you want to do something special for breakfast, great, we do that. If you donât, we donât. The same goes for the cake, or dinner. Weâll play it by ear, ok?â
Julie nods. âThat sounds ok.
âAnd, if you want to invite over a few people, you can. For dinner or for cake or some shit. Just to have them here. Whatever you want.â
âOk.â Julie finishes her breakfast, bringing her bowl and mug to the sink before heading to grab her things. Steve does a quick wash of the dishes, piling them on the drying rack before grabbing his keys and vest from the hall. When she comes down, he drops her off at school before going to pick Robin up for work.
When they get to work, Steve opens shop, leaving Robin at the front desk and going to the managerâs office. He had a meeting, which was boring as hell, had an interview to fill Robinâs empty shifts now that she started school. Manager things. That he hates just a little bit, but likes the pay raise.
Robin comes in during her break to check her schedule for the next week. Her eyes widen as she double checks the date on Saturday, before turning to him. âJanuary 28 is Julieâs birthday, right?â
âYep,â Steve says, still reading resumes.
âOh my god, we have to do something right?â Robin thinks out loud. âOr maybe not, I donât know if she likes her birthday. Or if itâs different this year cause, you know. I mean, sheâs related to you so she might hate her birthday. Have you talked to her about it? Should you talk to her about it?â
Steve rolls his eyes. âYes, Iâve talked to her. We have a plan. Now if you please, I actually have work to do.â
Robin ignores him trying to push her out of the room. âWhatâs the plan? I want in.â
âWeâre waiting to see how she feels that morning. And if sheâs up to it, something small. We might not even have people over at all, so calm down.â
âUgh, fine. But you better invite me over if thereâs cake.â She leaves the office, leaving Steve alone.
. . .
Julie knows that she should be feeling something. But sheâs not. Thereâs been no tears, no wishing, no anger. Just nothing. She kinda just feels empty. Hollow. With a little chest thatâs full of sadness, and she knows itâs there. Itâs just not open. None of the other chests are either. Leaving the room empty. Her empty.
Itâs not like she wants to feel. Feeling nothing is better than her heart getting ripped out of her chest every time the sun rises and reality sets in. But feeling nothing comes with one thing, guilt. That she should be sad, she should be crying. Screaming at the universe for what it did and leaving her like this. Praying to be able to go back in time and call her mom before she went to sleep that night. See if she could beg her to come home early. Or if staying up for another hour would make her mom magically materialize at the front door, perfectly safe.
But itâs all a tune thatâs been played before. The bargaining. Wondering if she had done something else, the crash would have never happened. A trail of what ifâs repeat in her mind. Telling her that if she did something different, things would change. Her mom would still be here. It never changed anything though.
She did things to block out the sad. Telling herself that if she wrote a little that day, she couldnât be sad. Because she couldnât write at all a few months ago. So, sheâs better now. She has to be. She was getting dressed every day, taking showers regularly, able to finish a meal. Thatâs improvement. She should feel improved.
She doesnât, though. Every day, she wakes up with something missing. Something ignored. Thereâs a pull in her chest that tries to make it up to her eyes, tries to get the tears flowing again. But canât. The pools are dried, they have been for weeks. She hasnât cried in weeks.
It should be an improvement. It doesnât feel like it. Nothing is felt, nothing is expressed. Her smiles are faker, and her laughs feel foreign. Sheâs good at faking, so no one sees it. But when they look away, the smile falls back into a thin line. Cheeks hurting from the unnatural pull of her lips. Her eyes stare off into nothingness, unfocused. And she just sits. Feeling nothing important, and only guilt.
âHey,â El says, sitting across from her. âJulie?â
Julie is brought back to the cafeteria. Elâs face focusing again, looking concerned. âHuh?â
âAre you ok? You looked like you were somewhere else.â
She was. Everywhere and nothing all the same. Her mind filled with the conversations around them, not the one she should be a part of. Filling her ears and making it hard to hear. âSpaced out, sorry. What were you saying?â
Max groans. âI was complaining about the people that threw popcorn at me and Lucas when we went to the movies this weekend. Itâs bad enough that I canât see the movie to begin with and Lucas has to whisper whatâs happening to me. I donât need things thrown at me.â
Julie winces. âShit, that sucks.â
âI know. And like, watching movies at home is so much easier because we can pause it and he can explain it to me. But itâs not the same. I just want to feel normal again.â
El grabs Maxâs hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. The conversation shifts, but Julieâs mind wanders again. Back to nothing and everything. Where nothing registers and everythingâs ignored. The bites of food taste like nothing, but itâs better than ash. She wants to eat it, but doesnât all at the same time. She barely hears when the bell rings to go to her next class.
In class, sheâs not paying attention. Writing down words that donât register, letting the words flow out of her brain as fast as they enter. Thatâs only when the words make it there in the first place. Sheâll pay for it later, but doesnât seem to care. Her grades could slip again. Even if she just made up for it. They can slip. There are more important things to think about. Feel about. Or not feel about.
A police siren drives by the school, and sheâs brought back to that day. When the world came crumbling down. Itâs like the scene plays out in her mind, but sheâs there watching it again. Seeing herself start to fall apart, not believing that itâs true. The moment her mind left her body for a second, and she became frozen.
The image leaves and the room is blurry. Her veins feel full of led, dragging her closer to the floor. Someone calls her name, and her head turns, but she doesnât tell it to. Her teacher looks at her concerned, from what she can tell.
âGo to the office,â the teacher says. âSomeone is coming to pick you up.â
Julie doesnât know who, thereâs no one that can. Her mom isnât around anymore. But she still picks up her bag, smacking her arm against the desk. Studentsâ heads turn towards her as she leaves, some whispering to themselves. She doesnât care. Sheâs too focused on how sheâs walking when her legs feel this numb and heavy.
And then sheâs sitting again. Picking at her thumbs out of instinct. Trying to see if she can feel it. She canât. Thereâs a slight panic rising in her chest, but itâs fleeting. Somethingâs wrong, but sheâs too spaced out to say what. So, sheâs left waiting.
. . .
Steve picks up the phone when it rings. Â âHarrington residence.â
âSteve, it is me, El.â
âHey, El. Arenât you in school?â
âYes, I am calling you from a payphone. I am worried about Julie.â
Steve stands up a bit straighter, gripping the phone a little tighter. âWhat about?â he asks, telling himself that itâs nothing bad so he wonât freak out.
âShe was not herself at lunch. It took me four times to get her to hear me say her name. She was not eating, just staring.â
Itâs a worse day than he thought it was. Maybe he should go pick her up. âItâll be ok, just one of her bad days. Thanks for letting me know.â
âNo, this was worse. I have seen the bad days. It was like she was not here, Steve. Somewhere stuck in her mind, but not here.â
âOk. Itâll still be ok. Iâm going to come pick her up, make sure sheâs ok. Ok? Thanks for letting me know.â
âOk. Thank you, Steve.â El hangs up the phone.
Steve does the same, heading to the living room to shut off the tv. He finds his shoes, then his keys. And then thinks itâs probably a good idea to call the school to let them know heâs coming so they can call her down. Makes up some excuse about a doctorâs appointment. Itâs the same secretary that he knows wonât care to double check.
Julieâs waiting for him in the office when he gets there. Staring at her fingers and picking at the skin. Sheâs going to have to bandage them later. He signs her out, calling out to her twice before she realizes that they can leave. El was right, sheâs stuck in her head.
In the car, she stares out the window. Steve doesnât try to speak, itâs better to do it when theyâre home. He knows whatâs happening. Itâs happened to him too. Much worse than this, but he knows.
It takes a second for her to register that the car stopped. She gets out of the car, slinging the bag over her shoulder like itâs a foreign motion to her. Looking around at the environment with confusion in her face but nothing in her eyes. He walks around the car, gently ushering her to the front door. Not in a pushy way but giving her the direction her brain isnât.
She walks to the front door and waits for him to open it, then walks inside. He brings her to the living room, and she sits on the ground. Back against the couch. Steve leaves the living room and comes back with an ice pack, pressing it into her hands. She grabs it, confused.
âCan you tell me what you feel?â he asks gently, sitting across from her.
âCold,â she responds softly.
âThatâs good. How about where we are right now, can you tell me that?â
She looks up from the ground, her eyes scanning the room. Slowly blinking more than before. âThe living room. Home.â
âGood, thatâs good. I want you to take a deep breath ok. Iâm going to count to four. Once for breathing in, again for holding it, then for exhaling it. Nod if you understand.â
Slowly, Julie nods. Steve counts, watching her breathe in, holding the breath until he tells her to let it out. The breathes become stronger, and her finger starts to tap along with his counts. Her eyes meet his and they look less droopy. More awake.
âWhere are we, Julie?â he asks again.
âHome, the living room. You picked me up from school.â Her voice is more certain, less strained.
Steve smiles gently. âWhatâs in your hand?â
âA warm ice pack.â
âWhatâs the last thing you remember before I picked you up?â
Julie swallows, leaning back. âI remember lunch. El and Max were talking, they noticed I wasnât. I said I was spaced out.â
âWas that the same as when I came to pick you up?â
She shakes her head. âNo, that was different. Like normal spaced out when you get overwhelmed or something. The other one was different. I-,â she pauses, trying to figure out how to say it. âIt felt like I was inside my body but not. Like I was doing things but not sure why. And I couldnât feel anything.â
Steve remembers the first fourth of July after Starcourt. How the fireworks sounded like bombs went off in his ears. Like they were still in his hands, being thrown at the mind flayer. How just before that, he was in a Russian bunker bonded, drugged, and beaten. He couldnât move for hours.
Robin said that it was the most scared sheâs been since they dragged him into the room unconscious and dropped him right next to her. She couldnât get him to hear her. And that was after her own panic subsided. They thought spending the day together would have made it better. But they still panicked.
She ended up doing the same thing he did now, having read some article about PTSD victims in one of her anxiety induced library runs. They needed to prepare if no one was there to help them. They needed to be able to help themselves.
He doesnât remember much about those hours when he was frozen. Just that he didnât feel right. Or there at all. Like his mind and body were in two separate places. Bones felt rigid and everything felt numb. It felt wrong, and he didnât know why.
âItâs happened to me before. Itâs called dissociation. Sometimes it can be minor, kinda like the type you had today, or it can be major. It can last for hours, sometimes days, maybe even a week. Some people can still move, some canât. It can happen to people who have gone through traumatic experiences, and those who are going through grief.â
Julieâs eyes start to water, and she tries to blink them away. She lets out a shaky breath, visibly trying not to cry.
âHey, hey,â he soothes. âItâs ok. You can cry if you need to.â
âI heard a siren, I think thatâs what caused this. I was fine, and then I heard it, and it brought me back to that morning. And it just felt so fresh all over again, but it was like I was watching myself in my memory react instead of me actually reacting. And then it was gone, and everything felt so heavy.â She stops, mouth opening like she wants to say something else but all that comes out is a choked sob.
Steve places his hands on her shoulders. âHey, itâs ok. Youâre back now. Itâs going to be ok. Just let it out.â
Julie crumples forward into Steve. He wraps her in a hug as the sobs break through. Holds her close. Sits there patiently as she calms down slowly. Until her breaths become even again and her tears start to calm.
âHowâd you even know to come and get me?â She asks softly.
Steve hums. âEl called me. Itâs not the first time weâve delt with something like this, so she knew the signs.â
âIâm glad she did.â
âMe too.â
. . .
Julie doesnât go to school the next day. Still rattled with what happened yesterday. Why it happened. And how. She would never have guessed that she was affected like that. Until it happened.
She takes it slow. Sleeps in until noon and takes a long shower. Focusing how the water feels and the senses around her. Keeping herself aware. It makes her feel safer, especially since Steve wonât be home for a few hours.
She eats a small breakfast, or lunch. Finds the blanket she likes and brings it to the living room, sliding in her favorite movie. And just sits. Lets herself be for a moment without pretending. Her body sinking into the couch.
Memories of sick days of her childhood come into her mind. How her mom would take off work and theyâd sit on the couch watching movies and tv all day. Wrapped up in a blanket with tea or hot chocolate in their hands. Laugh at the funny parts and cry at the sad. The world felt different on those days. All the struggles disappeared, and it was just them. They were happy.
Julie clicks off the movie when the credits role, feeling empty again. Staring off into space as she takes a deep breath. Tears want to fall but they come from nowhere. The pools still dried, only filled slightly yesterday out of fear. The ever-present ache in her chest amplifies, tugging at her brain trying to make her feel. Nothing comes. Julie is numb.
Pulling the blanket tighter around herself, she falls deeper into the couch. Wanting to occupy herself with something, she clicks the tv back on and finds a random channel. Letting the reruns of old sitcoms play in an endless loop. Letting the noise fill her mind when her own thoughts wonât.
When Steve comes home, he finds her there. âHey, you ok?â
âYeah,â she answers, still wrapped in the blanket. âI guess.â
âYou guess or you know?â he sits down next to her.
She sits up. âI donât know.â
He nods. âDo you want to talk about it?â
Julie doesnât know when Steve became this person that she could just talk to. There was a time where they were strangers, and then a time when they were like this. No in between, just a direct shift. Itâs strange how fast this became her new normal, how fast that they became close. How it felt kind of normal, like theyâve known each other longer than just a few months.
How itâs weird that they have only known each other for a few months. Itâs gotten to a point where Julie canât imagine a life without Steve being a part of it. At least on some level. While she wished that they had met in different circumstances, she liked that they met at all. That he and her were a family.
âItâs just,â Julie starts. âI was expecting to feel something, about this week you know. But I havenât. I havenât really cried since Christmas when we went to visit mom. I guess, I feel kinda guilty that Iâm not more affected by this.â
Steve takes a second to think. âThere are more ways to feel sad other than crying. Just yesterday you were affected by it, even if you didnât cry because of grief. Just because youâre not crying doesnât mean you still arenât grieving, or that youâre not sad.â
âBut my birthdayâs on Saturday,â Julie reasons. âAnd sheâs not here and I should feel sad about it. I donât feel sad about anything.â
âRobin is so much better at this than I am,â Steve mutters to himself. âI think I know what youâre saying. Do you, like.â He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase what heâs thinking. âDo you feel like emotions are just kind of there, but they donât stay and even when theyâre there, they donât feel real? Like youâre empty?â
Julieâs shocked with how that explained exactly how sheâs feeling. âYeah, itâs like Iâm numb.â
Steve softens his expression. âI need you to know that this is not something to feel guilty about. How youâre feeling, it doesnât mean that youâre not sad. But this might be something that Iâm not the best to help you with.â He takes a deep breath. âHave you thought about maybe seeing a grief counselor?â
Life was too crazy after her motherâs death that it never really crossed her mind. With all the moves, with the adjusting. It was all too much at once.
âNo,â she answers honestly. It might have been mentioned in the first week after the accident. But she wasnât paying attention in any of those meetings. Her mind was always somewhere else.
âIâm not saying that you have to go to one. But I think it might help, especially with what youâre feeling now. So, just think about it, ok.â
âOk.â
Steve nods, standing and going to the kitchen to make something for dinner. Julie, feeling weirdly motivated after this conversation, pulls out the beat-up copy of The Hobbit that Dustin lent her. He insisted that she take it, saying that the fact that sheâs never read it was a travesty. And if they were to ever be friends, it was like a requirement or something. She hated that she kind of liked it.
Thatâs another thing that just happened in the past few months. Julie had friends. Like a whole group. Sheâs never had that before. Sure, there were people that she vaguely knew that she would sit with at lunch in middle school. And there was Mary. But once she moved, Julie never really filled that spot again.
Then high school came with all of the cliques, and she never found her own. So, it was a lunch table with people she didnât know and her journal, or a book, just trying to get through the day. She didnât know how much she missed having a friend until they were suddenly thrown at her. And this group didnât know how to let go even if theyâre not wanted.
Julie thinks of her mom. How she would have smiled learning that Max from down the street is now one of her best friends. How there was another girl named Jane, but went by El, that came with. Be happy seeing Julie be happy.
She would have liked seeing Steve and Julie grow their relationship. Happy that Steve took Julie in and was anything but his father. Happy that Julie is in a safe, loving home, even if she wasnât a part of it. She would want Julie to keep living the life she always dreamed. Graduate high school and go to college. Maybe write a book one day. Maybe change careers entirely. Her mom wanted to see Julie conquer the world.
And she would want Julie to celebrate her birthday. Even if it felt wrong to do so without her. Even if Julie would miss her more than the day before. She didnât want to see her little girl hurt more than she needs to.
âLife keeps moving,â her mom said once. âCanât stop it, no matter how hard you try. Thereâre two things you can do. Mope around and let it drown you or look it straight in the face and tell it that youâre ready for whatever it can throw at you. And trust me, it can throw a hell of a lot.â
Itâs like Julie can still here her momâs voice in her head. Still feel the feel of her momâs hands against her cheek as they cup her face.
âYou, Jules. You could take on the world if you wanted to. And you taught me that I can too.â
Julie lived by those words for a long time. Up until the accident. Itâs easier to drown than to keep fighting, especially when the world looks so bleak. But sometimes thereâs glowing specks of light at the top that are too tempting to ignore. People that remind Julie to fight again.
Steve calls out that thereâs food if Julie wants it. She yells back that sheâll be there in a minute. Closes the book that she wasnât really reading, too lost in her own thoughts. Looking at the creases in the cover, the warped corners and the frayed edges. It wasnât perfect, but it was loved.
The two options that her mom posed all those years ago made sense at the time. It was easy to pick one or the other when life was simple. But life isnât so simple anymore. There are days when Julieâs drowning, and lets it happen. Then there are days when sheâs able to work with what lifeâs given her.
Thinking about it, the second option is more complicated than her younger mind initially thought. Life is unpredictable and cruel, but it keeps moving. Itâs better to move along with it than staying stuck in place. Even if moving one foot forward seems impossible, it can still happen. As long as she tries.
âWould it be too late to say I wanted to do something for my birthday?â Julie prompts halfway through dinner.
Steve looks at her shocked, but thereâs a soft smile on his face. âNo, not at all.â
. . .
âAnd youâre sure you wanted to invite everyone, not just Max and El,â Steve asks again, walkie in hand.
Julie did think about keeping it small. Thought about just having over a few people. But sheâs never really had a birthday party before. Not with a lot of people. Sheâs been to them. Been to the parties with the giant cakes and games that no one really likes. Just never had one of her own.
And itâs not like she doesnât get along with the guys. Theyâve been secretly growing on her more than sheâd like to admit. As noisy and frustrating as they are. But they were nice and loyal and cared. About her, about each other. It felt nice to be in a group like that.
So, screw it, she wanted to invite all of them. Because she genuinely liked them.
âYes, Iâm sure.â
Steve shrugs. âAlright, but donât say I didnât warn you about this.â He picks up the walkie, holding down the receiver button. âCode Periwinkle, my house at six.â
Julie snorts. âPeriwinkle, really?â Steve just shrugs.
There only a slight break before Robinâs voice comes over the walkie. âFuck yes, cake.â
âYou with Harrington DNA need to get better about telling people when your birthdays are,â Dustin angrily says through the walkie. âLike Iâm sorry we care about you.â
âJesus, calm down,â Lucas says.
âJust be glad heâs only slightly pissed,â Mike says.
âYeah, remember when he found out that Steve lied about when his birthday was,â Will says.
âI am still fucking pissed about that.â
Julie looks at Steve. âYou lied about your birthday?â
âI didnât really like my birthday when I lied about it.â
âIâm offended that I just heard about this now,â Max says over the walkie, âbut I will still be there.â
Julie takes the walkie from Steveâs hand. âAlso, donât bring any presents or anything. This isnât anything special, just my birthday.â
That starts a whole thing that just ends up with a bunch of static and broken sentences as they all try and talk at once. The group keeps bickering over the walkie until Steve turns it off. Then they get to work. Dinnerâs easy because they are just going to order some pizzas. But the house could use a clean and itâs a reason for Julie to pick up the clothes on her floor.
Once her room is clean, Julie heads back downstairs to see if Steve needs any help. Thereâs a sweet smell coming from the kitchen. It confuses her. Steveâs doing dishes when she walks into the kitchen.
âWhat are you making?â She sits on one of the barstools.
âCake, it is your birthday after all.â
âOh.â Julie canât remember the last time sheâs had a homemade cake at all, let alone for her birthday. âWhat kind?â
Steve dries his hands on a towel after resting the last dish on the dish rack. âVanilla, canât go wrong with that. Hope thatâs ok.â
âNo, itâs terrible, I actually hate vanilla,â she deadpans, watching Steveâs face start to panic before she smiles. âIâm joking, thatâs fine. Good, even.â
âJesus fucking Christ, that was terrible,â Steve exhales. âYou canât do that to me.â
Julie laughs. âIâm sorry. Youâre just so easy to mess with. Need any more help down here?â
âI donât think so, I got most of it done yesterday. How are you doing though? You seem better.â
Better is a loose term. It like the happiness that sheâs feeling is resting on the outside of her skin, not sinking in. Like sheâs wearing it as clothes instead of actually feeling it. It doesnât feel like a mask, though. Or anything really.
But she is happy, with that slight tinge of sadness as an aftertaste. Her smile isnât fake, and she was able to joke around again. When she woke up, she didnât dread getting out of bed. Wanted to wear something other than sweats. Cleaned partially because it was a chore, but it didnât feel taxing. It was a good day.
âOk,â she answers. A good day didnât mean a great day, and there was still the feeling of emptiness inside. âI feel happy, kinda but not really. But it feels good, not like Iâm pretending or anything.â
âIf anything changes, say the word and Iâll kick them out.â
Julie smiles. âI think Iâll be ok, but thank you.â
A few hours later and the doorbell rings. Julie gets up to answer it, almost immediately being crushed in a hug by El.
âHappy birthday,â she says with a squeeze. âI cannot believe that you did not tell us. But I am glad you did.â
Max rolls through the door, Lucas pushing her, with her arms crossed. âOnly took you till the day of.â
âMax,â El and Lucas say in unison. Max waves them off.
Julie shrugs. âI didnât know if I would want to do anything at all. So, I didnât tell you.â
âAt least you have a good reason,â Dustin complains when he comes in. âUnlike someone else we know,â he yells down the hall.
âYou need to let that go,â Steve yells back.
âI will not, Robin knew your real birthday before me. And I knew you longer.â
Robin comes through the door, placing her hand on Dustinâs head to push him out of the way. âThat just means he likes me better. You guys do know you can move into the house, right? We donât have to crowd the doorway.â
The group slowly moves into the living room, the rest of them coming in with Eddie and the pizzas. Almost as fast as the pizzas were brought in, they disappeared. Everyone stacking a few slices on their plates before going to the living room to watch a movie. With no fighting because it was Julieâs birthday, so she got to pick, and no one could say anything about it.
When it ends, they gather in the kitchen to have cake. Insisting on singing even though Julie tries to protest. But they do anyway. Not in synch at all, but it doesnât matter. It makes Julie laugh.
âSo,â Dustin starts when they sit down to eat.
âSo what?â
âHow do you like The Hobbit?â
Lucas groans. âDude, youâre making her read The Hobbit.â
âWhy am I not surprised?â Mike asks.
âYou donât have to read it if you donât want to,â Max interjects. âHeâll make it seem like itâs a big deal, but itâs not.â
âYes, it is. It is crucial knowledge that is needed to be a part of this group.â
âWell, I never read it and Iâm still here.â
âI have been reading it,â Julie says in hopes to stop the argument. âBut they, like, just got to the Lonely Mountain, so calm down. Itâs good.â
âSee,â Dustin says victorious, âshe likes it. I am not forcing her to read it.â
Julie tilts her head to the side. âI mean, there was a little forcing. You did shove it into my hands and then run away so I couldnât give it back.â
The argument continues until it eventually just dies down into something else. Slowly, parents start to come and pick up their kids. Robin and Eddie stay to help Steve clean up, Julie being forced to sit down when she tries to.
Steve stops her before she heads upstairs to bed. âI know you said no gifts, but,â he hands her a journal. âHappy birthday.â
She looks at the journal in her hands, a red bow stuck to the cover. âThank you.â
He gives her a side hug before returning to the kitchen, leaving Julie to go upstairs. When she does, she slips on her momâs sweatshirt when she changes. Climbs into her bed.
Staring at the ceiling, she can almost feel the warm smile on her momâs face. How happy she would be knowing that Julie had a good day. Good friends. Good family. Know that Julie was taken care of by people who cared about her, wanted to see her succeed.
The happiness of the night left, as if they were taken off when she changed outfits. Sadness doesnât fill the void that was left, though. Nothing really does.
Thinking about it, Julie should talk to someone. Wants to. Maybe sheâll bring it up to Steve tomorrow, and they can find someone. Or call Sarah, see if she has any recommendations. But that is a tomorrow problem. Right now, Julie wants to go to sleep knowing that today was good.
Wants to feel the smallest bit of joy that was in the house an hour ago. Feel it soak into her and stay instead of draining as soon as the night ended. Find someway to patch up the whole that keeps letting her feelings out. Keep them instead of constantly feeling empty.
Like a child, Julie grabs the pillow next to her and holds it close to her chest. Pretending it was the bear she used so much that it eventually lost its leg. She wasnât sad. Something else that she couldnât quite name. She just wanted a little extra comfort as she fell asleep.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. Sheâd do something about it tomorrow. Right now, she needed to sleep.
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