#i did get the intervals a bit wrong though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

"Why is it so bloody cold?"

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, "It's not even a Gryffindor match. We don't really have to be here freezing to death."

"Well, it's common courtesy," says Hermione, but she's just as cold as [Y/N] is; there's bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose," he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren't you the Ravenclaw fanatic."

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. "Want some?"

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, "Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don't you turn this green—"

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, "Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?" She glares at him. "You know fully well [Y/N] doesn't like it."

Ron (and Harry, although he isn't as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the "blond ferret" taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him," grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there's not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn't be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it'd be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

"They’re coming out!" someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

"Look, it's [Y/N]'s boyfriend," gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he's nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he'd confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]'s breath isn't knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn't burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

"May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins," McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn't anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she's been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she'd have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

"And they're off!" Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they're mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn't exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn't seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it's not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

"Go Ravenclaw!" Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? "Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!"

[Y/N] snorts. "Have it all thought out, don't you, Ron?"

"Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one's stopping you," says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

"So, Harry," [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you've chosen Ron’s side."

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!" someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw's seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she's a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

"He’s gonna catch it!"

"Ravenclaw's even worse than I thought," grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion—theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one's for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

"Malfoy’s got the snitch!" Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. "Slytherin wins!"

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

"Blimey," gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. "That was—"

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron's gaze, maintaining indifference. "He’s quite the charmer, isn't he?" she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that's ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn't it?

"It may be Malfoy," says Ron slowly, shaking his head, "But you can't deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him for tips," says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

"Blimey, this is heavenly!" gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. "You sure you don't want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?"

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. "No, thank you, Ron."

"Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend."

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it's only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

"Have you done your homework?" asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. "I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable."

"Oh, you're a good student, [Y/N]. Don't bring yourself down."

"Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year," she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it's clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn't hate [Y/N]'s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, "Is someone sitting here?"

[Y/N]'s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. "Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, "Slytherin?"

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy's gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That," she says, voice mostly level. "Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me."

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn't something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl's bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he's a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn't just be him she'd be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she'd also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it's baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it's not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people's feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it's from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, "Get rid of it, before Snape sees."

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to see, but it's certainly not the words "meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner" scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn't mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn't mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can't possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she's going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

"I’m going," she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

"Going where?" asks Harry.

"The Astronomy tower," she replies resolutely.

"What, to go star-gazing?" Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she'd been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn't necessarily need to tell them, does she? It's not as though it's important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

"Nevermind," says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don't need to know; it's not as though it's important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she's out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it's the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn't feel something for him that isn't hatred.

No, she doesn't need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

"[Y/N]?" Malfoy's voice says. He can't see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he'd check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

"What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn't even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents' money and shove it in other people's faces."

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. "I’m sorry," he begins slowly. "But remind me again why we're talking about Malfoy?"

"I’m not finished, Ronald," [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. "As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—"

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

"An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people's humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—" She pauses, gritting her teeth. "Odd.. requests."

"It’s not like he's asking you to murder house-elves," Ron mutters.

"Something that I would rather do than date him!"

"[Y/N]!" Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they'd arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she's rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren't enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

"Sorry, Hermione," [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. "Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?"

Ron blanches. "I’m not defending him!" he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. "It’s just.. yeah, it's a bit odd that he's declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he's stopped badgering us, hasn't he? Nasty little ferret hasn't said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!"

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. "So you think it's great that he's stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?"

"What suffering!" Ron exclaims. "He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!"

"Oh, why don't you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?"

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. "Why doesn't one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?"

"I don't know, Harry," [Y/N]'s lip curls. "I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he'd love to, won't you, Ronald?"

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. "Come on, let's go," says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. "Wouldn’t want to be late for class."

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy's presence; she doesn't particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn't paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it's about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can't stop wondering what would've happened if she'd stayed at the Astronomy tower?

"Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they're a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you've wet your pants," says Ron.

"I’m not you, Ron," she retorts.

"Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?" says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]'s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn't even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she's standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

"What?" [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. "Was it you?"

She meets her friends' eyes over Malfoy's shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"At the Astronomy tower," Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he's standing on the same one she's on. A foot away. "I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you."

Oh, Merlin.

"You came, didn't you?" he presses on.

"No," [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. "I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance."

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy's nose wrinkles. "Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then," he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. "Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N]," he tells her, grinning. "Before one of my admirers get to me first."

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

"The library?" a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. "No, you weren't! We were waiting for you there and you never came."

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn't respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

"Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower," says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. "Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?"

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

"Congratulations, Ron, you don't have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all," [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. "I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—" And then he gasps, looking as though he's unearthed the secret of life. "Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don't you?"

[Y/N]'s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Honestly, is that so hard to believe?" says Hermione, frowning. "I understand that it's Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes." She turns to [Y/N]. "It’s fine, [Y/N], you don't have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy."

"Blimey," says Harry, breathless. "Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?"

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren't there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. "I don't.." she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she's faced with such confrontation, it's easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!" he says, smacking Harry's shoulder. "Bloody knew it!"

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]'s back. "Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch."

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she's letting them burst free.. now that she's coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he's won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: "Fred and George said it'd take you a month longer to give in. I said it'd take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!"

[Y/N]'s mouth falls open. "You bet on this?"

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn't know. "Uh, I and the entire bloody castle."

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn't noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

"What the hell—"

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

"Keep walking, Malfoy," she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"Keep walking," [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can't ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he'd do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

"So," Malfoy begins, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that he's still grinning down at her. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn't fail to notice the way that the students they're passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. "Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Among other things."

She side-eyes him, muttering, "Does that include snogging?"

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. "You said it, not me."

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends' views (assuming they haven't followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there's a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next."

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?"

"Walk me there," says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. "And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle."

[Y/N] hums. "Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?"

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, "I could if I knew she wasn't leading me on."

"She isn't," [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he's trying to decide whether or not she's being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they're standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

"How do I know this isn't a prank?" says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can't blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they've been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can't delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat. "Well," she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you." She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. "I don't stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn't you know that by now?"

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn't have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she's standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

"I will be late for Transfiguration, you know," he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn't try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. "Better just one of us than two, don't you think?" she says, mirroring his playful grin. "And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance."

"Oh, sod off."

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn't feel right; they've been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they've been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn't perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn't the worst thing ever, after all.

9K notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

All The Colors

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Colorblindness, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: The colors are not always seen but rather felt. Just like Y/N feels the colors through their best friend and boyfriend Corpse. That’s how they realize that what they can’t see is the most beautiful and genuine feeling in the world. The feeling of knowing something and someone so deeply.

Requested by my dear friend Lulu, who you might have known as greenieofshield. Unfortunately she’ll never get to read this fic and I’ll never forgive myself for not putting it out sooner but I’ll also never forgive the universe for being so cruel as to take her away so early. She was one of the best people I’ve ever met, always so full of optimism, always there to brighten up my day and make me smile. Always so strong and brave, never falling victim to the hate she received despite not being deserving of it. The world lost an angel the day she died and I as well as so many other people will forever miss her.

Love you and miss you with my whole soul and hear, Lulu. Hope they’re treating you right in heaven ❤

For what it’s worth, Y/N has never asked people to describe the colors to them. In their eyes that seemed like the equivalent of poorly patching up a wound: they could hear thousands upon thousands of descriptions of each color and still wouldn’t be able to imagine it. The descriptions would only make that worse to them. So to avoid feeling even more like they’re missing out they never asked.

However, that doesn’t mean they haven’t developed their own way to ‘visualize’ and imagine colors throughout the years. They’ve tried loads of different methods, few of which stuck around and not for long either. That is exactly why they frequently used to tell their friends: “You can’t paint me a rainbow with black and white and shades of grey and expect me not to feel like I’m missing out on something. Paint me the gloomy sky on a rainy day and only then we’ll be even cause you’re seeing the same greys I am.”

Little did they know how drastically their logic was about to change in the following years.

Speaking of said following years - they met Corpse who became one of their best friends in practically no time. And within just a few months of that friendship’s blossoming, a romance sparked. A romance their friends would jokingly refer to as ‘romance of a lifetime’. Maybe it was said jokingly but Lord knows they weren’t wrong in saying so because the two were completely head over heels for one another -s till are to this day - and never shied away from showing it.

Y/N and Corpse met through Rae who Y/N was staying with while on a little vacation to Los Angeles. To be even more specific here, the two met through a game of Among Us, the game responsible for many wonderful friendships since its release.

“Guys, guys, guys.“ Y/N said after sparking up a bickering session for falsely accusing ‘blue‘ of faking a task in Navigation during the final round for the day, “Here’s a little rule of thumb for whenever we play together again: don’t trust me if I accuse a color instead of a name.“ It’s safe to say that statement rose a few eyebrows in the Discord call, the confusion serving as amusement to them before they explained themself, “Oh, why that is? Hm, I don’t know, maybe cause I’m colorblind.”

Rae who was in on the scheme the whole time and was struggling to hold in her laughter finally snapped while the rest of the players were left processing the information that had been dropped on them.

“But you practically kicked our ass every single round?!“ Corpse said, amazement and confusion in his tone.

“Expect the unexpected from this schemer, take it from someone who’s known them for a decade now.“ Rae said, winking at her friend from across the room. Not failing to notice the blush on their cheeks while doing so though.

“Corpse, are you calling me a good liar?“ They poked a stick at him teasingly, desperately avoiding Rae’s gaze which widened the second she realized why her friend was so flustered by Corpse’s remark.

“Practically a con artist.“ He replied to them with a laugh, earning one from them in return.

And so they practically conned him into falling in love with them with their quick wit, sarcasm and cuteness. If someone is to ask Corpse if he expected to fall for Y/N, he’d probably say yes.

“They were like a magnet the moment they entered the lobby and started talking.“ He said once on a live stream in response to a question he received in the chat regarding Y/N, “It wasn’t hard at all, falling for them. What took me a while was realizing it. While I was referring to them as ‘best friend’ all my friends were rolling their eyes and going ‘Sure, bud.’ Just took me a bit to realize why.”

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to grasp what his heart was actually screaming at him. Good thing they came to terms with it so soon too, otherwise they would’ve driven their friends insane.

Anyway, enough about what happened and what could’ve happened under one circumstance or another, what matters is the ‘here and now’ of their relationship. And trust me when I say it has never been better and it keeps getting better every day.

The beauty of what those two have is in the tiny every day things that they do for each other, the good morning texts even though the other person in probably just in the kitchen making breakfast while the other cannot find it in them to get out of bed; or it’s laced within the calls between them when neither of them are home or at least one of them is out and about, busy with a task they’ve probably been putting off for far too long. Don’t get me wrong though, the romantic gestures aren’t rare either. Random gifts are exchanged by them on regular intervals but one consistent and super romantic gesture that repeats a few times every year (of the two years they’ve been dating) is Corpse giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers.

A detail Y/N couldn’t help but take notice of was the fact that the bouquet was always made up of the same flowers with only small changes to the arrangement of them and maybe some tiny ones added too. Unfortunately, they aren’t artificial so they couldn’t have kept them thought they wish they could’ve. That being said, it goes without saying that those flowers mean the world to Y/N, the gesture actually - they know flowers are a common gift to give but anything they receive from Corpse is so special and makes them feel like the only person who’s ever received such a gift.

And so they got curious, they had to ask. They had to ask the question they never thought they’d actively ask considering their view of the topic. But they still did.

“Hey Corpse.“ Y/N spoke up out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen over them while they watched the movie they were only partially interested in given how exhausted they both were from devoting themselves to their respective tasks and responsibilities throughout the last few days.

Corpse hummed in response, the arm wrapped around their waist doing a little motion as if encouraging them to continue, his gaze immediately traveling down to his partner.

“What color are the flowers?“ They asked, gazing at the bouquet - a gift they had received from him for their birthday a few days prior - in the vase on the dining table.

They waited a few seconds but when they didn’t hear nor feel any sort of response from him they couldn’t help but look up at him. Upon doing so, they saw his small smile as his eyes too remained on the bouquet. “They’re black and white.“ He replied eventually, “Black roses and white daffodils.“ His gaze wandered away from the vase and down to meet theirs, “I don’t want you to think I’m seeing them in their ‘full beauty’ while you only see them in black and white. You are seeing them in their full beauty and not missing out on anything. They are absolutely beautiful black and white as they are.“

As a response to his answer, Y/N couldn’t suppress the growing smile on their face no matter how hard they tried. So they didn’t try at all, they let the smile lighten up their face before speaking up: “You’re a wonder, Corpse.” They said, pushing themself as upright as they could to be able to kiss his cheek. “However, you’re wrong.” They say when they pull away, smirking up at his confused expression, “My world was black and white until you came into it. You’re all the colors, Corpse. Your love’s red, joy’s yellow, sadness blue, chaos green. Love red. You’re all the colors and out of all the people that have tried to describe to me how they look, you have managed to do that just perfectly without even trying.”

Little did they know that’s exactly what he thinks of them - their world is black and white because all the colors live within them. Because they are all the colors.

And maybe they both are, seeing as how they came into each other’s lives exactly like the rainbow after the pouring rain.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn

209 notes · View notes

sugaxjpg · 4 years

Text

infamous; m

⤷ You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing.

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & SecretRelationship!AU

✓ Filed under: smut

✓ Look out for: bathroom sex, breast play, oral (male receiving) + deepthroat, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (use condoms or i’ll kill u!!!), mirrors,switch!tae and switch!reader, taehyung being lowkey a prick but we’re all in for it

✓ Words: 12,508

Author’s Note: Of course my year-long hiatus would end with a smut. What else can I say? I can hear the clown music from here.

“Like, can you actually believe that? He ghosted me for three weeks, then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic.” She sighed, taking a slip from her neon green drink. You didn’t know how Hyejin could ingest something that resembled toxic waste and make it seem like it actually brought her some sort of comfort. “You know what? I’m done with men. All of them. We really are living in the medieval ti— Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked twice, taken off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. Truth was, you were only half present, the other half of you scrutinizing the living room, trying to find a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies.

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologized, leaning your side against the wall. Behind Hyejin, two guys started yelling about something related to Harry Potter and you couldn’t care less. “I was somewhere else for a second, but I’m here now. You were saying that he ghosted you?”

“Yeah, like an absolute idiot.” She rolled her eyes, gesticulating aggressively. You nervously watched the movements of the radioactive cup, worried that it would splash all over your clothes. You really should’ve thought twice before combining a white blouse with your black skirt — that was a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I’m never talking to him again. Or any man.”

“Hm,” you hummed, crossing your arms. You didn’t know who she was trying to convince, that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). “Who’s that again? Hoseok?”

“The one and only,” she agreed, glimpsing at her side as if someone could even hear you two amongst the loud reverberation of the music. “Really, I don’t know how those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. They’re a hazard, all seven of them. A threat to public health.”

You shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they pay their tuition and do well in class. That’s as far as the college cares.”

She groaned. “I guess.” Another slip. A pause. Another one. Yep, you were designated driver for the night. “Could be worse, though, I could be one of the poor chicks that Taehyung fucks in his spare time.”

Oh.

You giggled, nervous. “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, looking back at the mass of students. “Yeah, that’d be awful.”

She hummed in concordance, taking her cup back to her lips. The two guys behind her decided to quit the arguments and moved away from the two of you, making you follow their figures as they dissipated amongst the crowd. You didn’t know how college parties managed to squeeze so many people in one small living room, but it was one of the mysteries of life, you guessed.

“I don’t know what’s the deal with that one,” Hyejin continued. “It’s like he has a golden dick or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your attention back at her. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s a complete douche.” She moved her hand as if she was scaring away an invisible fly. “Don’t even think about him. He’s the kind that uses and discards people.”

“You think so?” You asked.

“I know so,” she said. “I couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with Taehyung, and somehow became completely whipped by the dude, only to be told that he doesn’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. Like… What the fuck is that? Who says that?”

You laughed, noticing the tinge of red that covered her cheeks. “You sound really drunk.”

“So?” She asked. “I’m not bullshitting you. Taehyung is a prick and that’s gospel.” She raised her cup in a silent cheer, and took another slip. “I know you’re not involved in the fuckboy phenomena that plagues this campus, and, honestly, you’re better off that way. But trust me when I say that he isn’t worth the headache.”

With an inattentive nod, you took another peek at the strangers in the room. “I believe you, don’t worry.”

The worst part? You did.

Even worse? There were two things wrong with what she had told you.

Number one: yes, Taehyung was kind of a jerk sometimes. But he wasn’t completely soulless. He was fun to be around, actually, when he wasn’t surrounded by his smooth-brained friends, or trying to impress someone into sleeping with him. Also, you were pretty sure he told at least most of those girls that he wasn’t searching for anything serious, and a one-night stand was most likely all that they would get.

You couldn’t speak for all of them, of course, but the ones that you knew personally, at least, had mentioned something along those lines to you. He didn’t exactly lead them on, trying to break their hearts just for the sake of it. Besides, Taheyung was already kind of infamous around campus for “using and discarding” people, as Hyejin had put, so it wasn’t precisely a surprise for anyone involved.

Number two: Taehyung fucked the same person twice, if he felt like it. And you knew that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so.

To your defense, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship when you first met him. In fact, you didn’t expect that you would fall victim to his charms just like everyone else, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you could hold it. And you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did.

Truth was: Kim Taehyung was everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he was attractive as hell; he knew that he had a voice so silky and deep that just saying the right words would be enough to have you in bed with him — and he knew how to use two two things very well. So, just like Eve, you followed the snake and bit the apple, and blah blah blah, eternal damnation or something like that. Big deal.

You didn’t care much about being fuckbuddies with Taehyung, actually — he had his fun with other people in the meantime, and so did you —, but you pretty much could die at the idea that someone would find out. It was an ego thing, alright? You didn’t want people to know that you were interested in him, since you prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, and to have people think that you were wrapped around his finger (which you absolutely wasn’t!) would not be a good look for your personal brand.

And it got more complicated than that. The thing was that Taehyung had always been one to flaunt around his trophies. It wasn’t unheard of for him to just start talking about someone that he had fucked, maybe even giving a bit more detail than anyone else involved would appreciate. You knew that it was just a matter of time before your name dropped from his lips at the wrong time, in front of his ape-brained friends, and everyone would discover that you were added to his long lists of booty calls.

So, when you asked to keep that first night a secret, you were surprised when he quickly accepted it.

Against all expectations, Taehyung didn’t fall into his old pattern when it came to you. He had been the one to text you first, calling you over to his place — which he made sure to be empty — and he had been the first one to suggest that you two kept meeting up after that. Now, let’s not get this mixed up: it wasn’t an undisclosed crush, it wasn’t love. It was just Taehyung fulfilling some weird-ass kink of his. He liked to have you when he wanted it, the way he wanted it, and he liked the thrill of it all being undisclosed — to him, it felt like you two were doing something wrong, which managed to turn him on even more.

Also, you were human, alright? There was something extremely tempting about sleeping with someone as almighty as Kim Taehyung, King of Fuckboys, especially when he kept coming back to you. It’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while.

Again: it was an ego thing.

Even if your pride told you otherwise, you decided, again and again, to come back to him. Late at night in your apartment, when your roommate had already gone to sleep, and he was buried deep between your legs, licking your wetness and sucking on your clit. Or maybe in the interval between your classes, when you two managed to get the locker rooms empty, and he fucked you so hard against one of the lockers that you could swear someone would come see what was going on with all that banging against the metal.

But no, no one ever caught you. Not Hyejin or any of your other friends. As far as you were aware, Taehyung’s group didn’t know a thing either, which made you appreciate him even more.

See? He wasn’t a total douchebag. He had the most basic sense of loyalty.

And, yeah, you didn’t like lying to your friends, but it was a necessary measure. You were sure they would kill you if they found out about your private escapades with the Local Fuckface McGee: half out of sheer panic for your emotional well-being, and the other half out of pure jealousy. You didn’t think much about it most of the time, since you kind of understood Taehyung’s side: you simply liked the thrill, and you weren’t actually doing anything illegal. No one really had to know.

Rupturing the bubble of your nostalgia, your friend’s voice startled you back into reality.

“Who are you looking for?” Hyejin furrowed her eyebrows, staring you down intensely. She had been your friend for three years, and you were absolutely certain she could see through your bullshit — well, most of the time. “Do you have a dick appointment that I don’t know about?”

You laughed, your voice coming out an octave higher than you intended it to. “What? No!” So subtle, congratulations. “I’m just searching for a friend. She owes me a bit of money and she’s been avoiding me for some time.”

You were impressed at the ease that the lie left your tongue. At the same time, you had been doing that for five months now — keeping your distance from mentioning anything Taehyung, figuring out excuses to get away from your friends at the weirdest of times — , so you guessed that was something that came with practice.

“You want me to beat her up?” Hyejin offered. Just a glimpse was all that you needed to know that she was dead serious. “Give me her name. I promise I just wanna talk.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, chuckling at her aggressive demeanor. “It’s not a lot of money, I’m not super worried. I’m just tired of being avoided.”

She smirked, taking another slip from her cup. How didn’t the drink end yet? That cup was infinite. “You and me both, sister.”

Your lips parted, but, before you managed to let anything out, a loud sound of men screaming in excitement overlapped the beat of the electronic song. Hyejin met your eyes with a mixture of puzzlement and interest and, in an unspoken agreement, you two decided to see what the fuss was about.

Lucky for you, you two didn’t even have to take two steps to figure it out. Since the large opening to the living room was right besides you, all that you needed to do was to take a look through it, right at the kitchen, to see the beautiful, Animal Planet view of Hoseok drinking beer upside down.

“Hyejin?” You called calmly, eyes still glued to the spectacle.

“Yes, love?” She answered, absent-minded.

“You know who’s throwing this party, right?”

She shrugged. “I might.”

You suspired, taking a step back so you could stare at her. Behind you, people walked towards the kitchen, pumped to see if Hoseok could drink the entire thing (as if he didn’t do that in every single party he throwed). “So, there’s any other reason why you dragged me to Hoseok’s party, besides one that you needed someone to keep you company while you waited to be dicked down?”

“Great deduction, Sherlock.” She smiled, eyes shining in enthusiasm. You looked at Hoseok, then back at Hyejin. Maybe she wouldn’t have any grounds to judge you and Taehyung after that circus performance. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about that.” You crossed your arms. Seokjin, who was holding Hoseok by the ankles, pterodactyl-screeched in joy as the boy reached the end of the beer. Two more slips and he’d be good to go. “You sent him the tit pic, didn’t you?”

Hyejin licked her lips, taking a hand up to fix her hair. “I’m only human,” she said. “Besides, I had already invested a lot on him. I even did a full body shave. I couldn’t just not do it.”

You laughed at the idea, watching as she became more and more distracted by the man. A group had already formed around Hoseok, and you knew it was just a matter of when Hyejin would do the same.

“What happened about being over all men?” You asked.

“Yeah, yeah… After tonight. Right now I’m planning to get under one.” She gave you her neon green cup with a harsh movement, and you held it without thinking much about it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N. Hold my drink for me.”

“Have a great night, I guess,” you raised the sound of your voice as she began to walk away. “Text me when you get home!”

She responded without turning back, giving you a thumbs up over her head. “You too, girlie!”

And, just like that, she was gone.

Disappointed but not surprised, you sighed and placed your body back against the wall. From the kitchen, a roaring applause exploded, and you knew that Hoseok had finished his Herculean task. Good for him.

You stared down. The sharp shade of green reflected on the skin of your hands, looking like something straight out of Chernobyl. You took the cup to your nostrils and gave it an experimental sniff, your nose cringing at the appalling smell. Fighting the disgust that had built in your stomach, you quickly took it away from your face, and decided to place it on a table nearby. No wonder Hyejin was so out of it, the poor girl was suffering from radiation poisoning.

The Chainsmorkers started to play and you asked yourself why the fuck was Satan in charge of the music. All around you, strangers fumbled to the rhythm of the song, a girl even falling to her knees at one bad turn of the ankle, then turning her gaze up at her friends and laughing maniacally. The odor that enveloped you was strong and nauseating — Axe body spray, probably — and the thumping of the sound was starting to get annoying. Since you were alone with your thoughts, there wasn’t much left besides to hyperfocus on those details, which was all but a pleasant pastime.

You crossed your arms, bored out of your mind, and thought that it might be the wiser decision to go back to your place and just sleep the night off. Yeah, the semester was already ending, most of your tests and projects had passed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t completely exhausted at all the accumulated stress you had endured. Now that Hyejin had moved on with her plan, you didn’t have much of a part to play in that party anyways.

A couple almost tripped on you as they giggled their way towards the stairs, probably searching for an available room. What a nice reminder. You pressed your lips together, then peaked back at the kitchen, where you only saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook leaning over a pile of red cups — Yoongi right behind them, seeming like he was about to kick the whole thing down. You didn’t know where Taehyung was, but he most likely already left with someone else.

You turned back to your previous position, crossing your arms in frustration. Great. Your friend was after her sexting partner, and your own booty call was probably balls deep inside someone else by then. Really, there wasn’t much that you could do in there. It would be better if you just left while your dignity was still intact.

With a sigh, you pushed your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. You were praying that Hyejin remembered to give you the car keys, otherwise you would be trapped in that place for god knows how lo—

Oh there he fucking was.

The moment that you saw Taehyung, sitting on the couch across the room from you, it was like you forgot to breathe for a moment. That little demon incarnated looked better than you had anticipated — dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. His dark hair was parted in the middle, a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, and his thumb distractedly circled his lower lip as his gaze navigated around the room, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him, you could see another one of his friends — Jimin, if you were not mistaken — talking about something animatedly, but the other man was paying no attention.

His expression was one of irritation, you noticed, with his thick eyebrows moving together, jaw clenching. It was pretty erotic, if you said so yourself. You didn’t know what Jimin was telling him, but you sure hoped he wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

When he saw you, however, Taehyung’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipated.

With your mind racing in anticipation, you watched as his eyes met your own, then trailed down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you had predicted. You knew that stare awfully well — it was the same one that Taehyung gave you when he saw you around campus, the silent provocation that told you, and only you, that he really wanted to have some alone time right now.

A sly smirk sprouted at the corner of his lips, and he leaned back against the couch. You followed his movements as he reached towards his pocket and came back with his phone, staring at you as he did so. The phantasmagoric white light casted odd shadows over his face as he unlocked it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he started to type something. Once he was done, he locked his phone and placed it back where it had come from.

Inside your purse, your own phone beeped happily.

You licked your lips, trying your best to forge indifference as you reached for your device. You swore you could still feel his eyes still burning on you, impatient and deep, watching your every move with eagerness.

[00:23] Taehyung: so glad to see that you came bby

[00:23] Taehyung: do me a favor and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, will ya? Second door to the right ;)

Yep, new plans: you would stay there a bit longer.

Hammering against your chest, your heart seemed as if it was about to jump out of your mouth by the time that you turned your attention back to the couch. Taehyung, however, had already gotten up, and you had the chance to take a last glance towards his beautiful form as he walked towards the stairs. Jimin, from the couch, appeared to be as lost as they come.

From the kitchen, the resounding complaint of the group you had seen before ruptured your hypnotized state — Yoongi had, in fact, kicked everything down. Taken aback by the carnality that permeated your chest, you locked your phone without typing an answer and leaned back against the wall, deciding it would be best to wait a minute or two before following him upstairs. Amongst your thoughts, a part of you was still judging whether you adored or despised Kim Taehyung, and the intoxicating effect he had on you.

Finally, you decided to take the stairs. You wondered, as you opened your way through the ocean of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you weren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that was actually very simple. It was a story with a start, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two wanted to fuck each other, you did, then you moved right on. No hidden feelings, no strings attached. That was it. Couldn’t get any better than that.

Regardless, it wasn’t everything about that, and you knew it. It was about overhearing other girls talking as you made your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot he was, or about how he didn’t call them back after he gave them the best night of their lives. It was about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. It was about knowing that yeah, Taehyung was crazy hot — and you could have that whenever you wanted. It was about hearing him complain about his friends, who told him that you’d never give him a chance, and seeing the delectable pleasure in which he vangloriared himself, knowing very well that you and him had a second life to share whenever suited.

You reached the second floor with electric currents running through your veins, anticipation building like a tidal wave inside your abdomen. You two had never done something like that so close to so many people and, yet, you adored the idea even more.

The cold metal of the door handle met the palm of your hand and you tried it once, twice, with no effect. After looking at the corridor and making sure that Taehyung was nowhere else to be seen — besides the fact that, if he didn’t manage to get the bathroom, he would surely text you a different location — you were left to assume that he wanted to know that it was you who waited at the other side.

With a sigh, you took your phone out of your purse. Maybe your fingers weren’t as steady as you’d like them to be, but no one needed to know about that.

[00:27] You: plz open the door thx

Expectantly, you placed your phone back and tried to overhear some sort of sound signifying that he was moving closer to the door — but the song was so loud that you could barely understand your own thoughts. The next seconds that you stood there, just waiting for him to open the door, had been the longest ones you had endured in your life.

Eventually, however, the door creaked open.

You gave one last, paranoid glimpse at the strangers in the corridor, but none of them seemed to notice that Taehyung hadn’t left the bathroom by the time that you came in, locking the door behind you.

It was like stepping into a different reality. The lights inside the bathroom were absurdly bright when compared to the dim environment that expanded outside; the obnoxious song and chatter had instantly morphed into a muted exclamation outside of the door, only the reverberation of the bass making itself present. Just like the calm before the storm, there was a moment of tranquility between the instant that you locked the door, and the one that you saw him.

As you turned around, dwelling in his proximity, you thought about a million things at the same time — about teasing him about his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he had to count on his covert booty call to get laid in a party. You thought about how gorgeous he looked, about how his eyes glistened in interest as he took a quiet step towards you, his roseate tongue coming out to lick his lips.

Regardless, before you could say anything, Taehyung’s lips were on your own, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. You whimpered in surprise as he pushed you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezed your body against his. Your purse fell on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even noticed it.

Taehyung had always been an intense kisser to say the least, but that night it was something else. That night, he was kissing you as if he physically couldn’t contain himself long enough to do anything else; as if all that he could think of doing was to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, your fingers pulling on the strands of his hair. As he invited his tongue inside your mouth, Taehyung groaned and lowered his hands, squeezing your ass like he was about to lose every last ounce of sanity he had left in him.

You sighed as he moved his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses in a way that you knew would leave a mark the next day. “Someone’s excited,” you commented, slightly breathless. Your only response was another groan, and the rolling of his hips against you, where you could feel his cock, already semi-hard, pressing against your inner thigh. “Couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else.”

One of his hands moved up to your hair, pulling your head sideways so he could have a better access to your neck. “I need to have you now,” his deep voice came out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your center.

“You’re starting to get more adventurous with this.” You bit down on your lower lip and he sucked your flesh, groping your ass once again. “Parties used to be so off limits to you.”

Taehyung chuckled against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. He started making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you thought you could very well pass out at the level of craving that had built inside you. “I changed my mind.” He spoke as he leaned back.

You smirked at his attitude. “We’ll end up getting caught.”

“Aw, baby.” He pouted, looking at you with artificial pity. Okay, he could be kind of a prick sometimes. “You’re the one who’s worried. And you came all the way up here because you wanted to. You know I’m not one to insist.”

“I can leave, then?” You raised one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You can, the door is right behind you,” Taehyung told you, quickly losing interest in that conversation. “But something tells me you won’t.”

You didn’t even try to respond, because there was nothing to be said: both of you knew what you were doing there, and the idea of walking out was just too ridiculous to consider.

With a suspire, you watched as Taehyung moved his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse.

“What if someone hears us?’ You suddenly remembered, heartbeat quickening at the thought.

“What is it, baby?” He asked as his fingers worked on your buttons, exposing more of your torso. That slow pace of his was going to kill you one of those days. “You’re worried that people are going to find out about this? About us?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his chuckle — so deep and melodious — caught you off guard.

“How scandalous, right? Y/N is not the pure little thing she makes herself to be,” Taehyung continued, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. He licked his lips at the sight, humming with delight. “Red lace? You really want to tease me.”

You swallowed dry as the man took the fabric off your shoulders and gently placed besides the sink, above a towel. He could be so thoughtful sometimes. “Taehyung, I—“

“You’re such a little brat sometimes, do you know that?” he interrupted, eyes following his own movements as his hands circled your body, moving to unclasp your bra. And of course he got it right on the first try. “You came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it.”

You stared him down, a smirk already creeping up at the corner of your lips. “How does that make me a brat?”

He chuckled. “Look at you, trying to play the naive card on me.” Another agile movement of his fingers and your bra was joining your blouse besides the sink. Taehyung sighed tentatively at the image of your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “Pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You can drop the act now, baby.”

“I don’t—“

His mouth attacking your breasts was all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he went there to do. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezed you, playing with your soft boobs as he moaned against your skin.

“I love it so much.” Taehyung hummed as he sucked on your breasts, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. You had almost forgotten how much Taehyung ached to play with your boobs; how often he would squeeze them, suck them; find excuses to feel them against his body. Not that you were complaining. “And I love that it’s all for me.” He breathed out before attacking your other nipple. “All of this… all mine.”

You whimpered at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. As much as you knew he was most likely just saying whatever he thought would turn you on — besides, you two had already agreed on a pretty open “relationship” —, Taehyung’s words expanded inside your chest, building a heat that seemed to suffocate you. Even if you knew it was bullshit, you liked to be called his. Ego strokes and all of that.

“Taehyung…” There was only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and you couldn’t care less if they heard you calling out his name. That boy really did wonders to your anxiety.

But he also liked to tease you.

He moved away from your breasts and you almost — almost — cried out in frustration.

Taehyung traced his kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. You were going crazy with all that back and forth. “Baby, I’m not gonna lie, I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “I like to keep this as a secret too. It’s so hot.”

You almost forgot how to inhale when he aligned his face with yours, placing a pec on your swollen lips. “Yeah?” You asked, sounding as if you were in a daydream.

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. Even if Taehyung tried his best to look as he was under absolute control, you knew that he couldn’t keep that front for too long. He was clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh was all of the proof that you needed. “It’s so great to know that I have one of the sexiest girls on campus just for myself…” His hand trailed up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “And no one knows.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “I thought you were the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Most times,” he mumbled, gifting you with another small pec. “Not with you. I like it like this. Having you when I want, how I want, and only you and I know.”

But you weren’t satisfied with his answer. His hand did a turn and decided to make a quick stop on your ass, the feeling of skin against skin making your lower body tingle. “What’s so enticing about it?” You asked.

He smiled. “Ah… many things.”

Your stare didn’t falter. “I’d like an exemple.”

Instead of answering you straight away, Taehyung decided to take his sweet time. He leaned his head to the side and kissed you feverishly, growing satisfied at the small whimpers and suspires that echoed in between your mouths. His hands were all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes could not see. You only had your skirt and your panties on, and it was so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you.

At last, Taehyung pulled away, placing his forehead against yours. As he spoke, you felt the tingle of his hands as they moved towards the hem of your panties. “I like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re so sore from the night before,” he spoke slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “And I know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. About how I fucked you so good that you almost cried, and that it’s the next day, and you can barely walk.”

You hummed, closing your eyes. “What else?”

Much to your dismay, his hands left your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “When you send me those audios late at night,” he was breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “Playing with your little cunt, crying out my name… shit,” he cursed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? So there I go, out the door, telling my friends that I’m gonna see this crazy hot chick and I’m gonna fuck her brains out…” he hesitated. “And I just get this... rush because they don’t know it’s you.”

“And how do you know that I like any of it?” You teased.

Taehyung chuckled at your question. Both of you knew that it was plastered all over your face, but he could keep up that little teasing if you wanted to. “Two reasons,” he said. “First: you do the same to me, or don’t you?”

“I don’t recall,” you responded, forging innocence. Okay, maybe you did play the naive part a bit much.

“Oh no? What a terrible memory you have.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. Taehyung was so close that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wondered how you even managed to breathe in that position. “It was just last week, baby. You called me to your flat after your roommate had left.” One of his hands went back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like lit matches against your skin. “You opened so wide for me, you were so wet already. You got so horny with just the thought of having my cock, isn’t that right?”

Much to your surprise, your voice came out a lot more steady than you had expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

Taehyung chuckled, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “I don’t,” he agreed, digits pressing against your clothed clit. You knew he could feel how soaked your panties had become, so there was no reason to keep that up. Regardless, you kind of liked it. “But I do remember how much you wanted me that night, whining and begging me to fill you up with my cock. How many times did I fuck you that night, uh? Four? Five times? And you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbors might have been listening. That was so cute.”

You sighed, your insides in knots over the tension you were sustaining. You hated him sometimes. Hated how good he was. “I wasn’t counting.”

“I know, baby.” He swiftly pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, his long fingers digging into your wet heat. Memories of them fucking you open flooded your mind, sending a shockwave directly through your torso and towards your pussy. “And this right here, baby, is the second reason. Look at this: you’re soaked.” His digits moved, teasing your entrance, and the sound was so lewd that you had to suppress a moan. “You’re always so ready to take me. I love that. You’re so good to me.”

God, you were about to lose it.

With the force of then thousand warriors, you held back another less-than-graceful sound from escaping your lips. You knew how much Taehyung liked you being loud (something to do with the adrenaline of getting caught, nothing new to see here), and so you had to keep your cool. It wouldn’t be so fun if you just gave him everything he wanted.

“So quiet all of a sudden.” His nose delicately trailed up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in hot, open kisses. In an attempt to ground yourself, your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. You could still feel Taehyung’s fingers playing with your wet folds, seeing how much you could take before you were begging for them to enter you. You hated him. Or not. You didn’t know. “I know I leave you speechless, baby, but I wanna hear you too.”

Strong and steady, his other hand met the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his. In a mindless reflex, you perked up your ass at the contact, making his fingers slip closer to your soaking entrance.

“Nothing? Baby, you’re especially irresistible tonight.” Taehyung’s eyes were somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. He appeared as if he was two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind. “You know why I called you here?”

“Because you want to fuck me,” you responded without missing a beat.

“I do, of course.” He placed his forehead against yours, and you whimpered weakly as two of his fingers finally (finally!) made their way into your heat, stretching you nicely. “That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.”

Instead of answering, another slow, delicious moan dripped like honey from your tongue. Taehyung grunted, satisfied at your responses, and quickened the pace inside your walls; your eyelashes fluttering shut at the ambrosial sensation. He had told you once about how much he liked that part: knowing that you were getting ready for his cock, but already so eager to cum around his fingers.

Did he tell you that while he fingered you inside his car? Yes. Did anyone else have to know that? Absolutely not.

“You know what I was doing before I came here?” His question caught you off guard.

You didn’t even know if you were able to answer for a second, but, happily, the word didn’t have any issue coming out. “What?”

He took a deep, sharp breath, curling his fingers inside you. You pressed your back against the door at the shock of his digits brushing against your sensitive spot, one of your hands flying to your mouth in a way to suppress a particularly loud exclamation of pleasure. “I was listening to Jimin complain about how much he wanted to have you in his bed tonight,” his voice came out in a harsh tone, full of spikes and pointed corners. “Over and over, like a broken record. He can be so explicit when he wants to. It’s unbearable.”

You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hip against his hand. Your body was starting to tingle, the muscles in your legs turning into jello, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. As you spoke, you noticed touches of bliss ornamenting your syllables, your words coming out with a bit more difficulty than before. “Oh, so you’re jealous?” You teased.

“Me? Never,” he was quick to respond, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him; his cock throbbing painfully against the fabric of his pants. “I’m just… trying to change your mind.”

“My mind?” You echoed, only half-aware of that conversation. Pleasure was starting to build in alarming rates, and you were starting to lose your trail of thought. “I haven't even decided anything yet.”

“After I’m done, baby, you won’t need to,” his voice came out in a profound whisper, sounding like a sweet melody against your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and slow, so deep,” he stressed that word, making your pussy throb around his fingers at the idea, “that you won’t want to have anyone else for the night. Only me.”

It sounded a bit like possessiveness or jealousy to you, but, honestly, you chose not to pick that conversation for the night. It was probably some kind of acting on his part too. Besides, you weren’t interested in any of Taehyung’s friends, so he didn’t need to worry about Jimin, or anyone else, making a move — especially when he was fingering you so well that you were about to forget your name.

“And the best part, baby, is that no one will even know it,” he continued, separating his fingers slightly so he could scissor you. Against your best judgement, your knees were getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie. “Just you and I. Just the two of us will know how much you begged to be filled up with my cock, how wet you already are just for my fingers.”

“Taehyung,” you called out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. You moaned out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone that he felt as if he was about to cum on the spot. God, Taehyung loved hearing the effect he had on you. “I’m close.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your ear. His voice was so hoarse, so permeated by desire, that you knew that he was holding back too. His cock was hard and throbbing against your legs, and every minor movement of your thigh against his erection was enough for him to lose his breath for a moment. “But I don’t want you to cum, not yet.”

Again, he pulled away.

Taehyung wanted you to complain, to whine about the lack of contact or the warmness of his body — and so, just because you knew that it was his plan, you didn’t do any of that.

You didn’t say a word as he moved his fingers away from your wetness, his other hand coming down to grope your ass. You didn’t flinch when he looked you deep inside your eyes, guiding his fingers between your lips, watching as your mouth obediently took them in, humming as you sucked your own wetness, never breaking eye contact.

“Fuck,” he cursed, drowing in the sensation of your warm tongue licking his fingers. You didn’t think that Taehyung was fully aware of the way that his hips had rolled against yours, fighting for relief. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unreal.”

And you knew that he said that praise to every poor soul that crossed his path, but it still managed to have some effect on you. Again: you were human, and Taehyung knew what the fuck he was doing.

But so did you.

Before he could try and do anything else, you pressed your palms against his chest, gently pushing him a few steps away from you. Taehyung followed your lead, watching as you got down to your knees, facing his erection.

In measured, lackadaisical movements, you pressed your lips against his covered cock, feeling its handness against your mouth. Air got stuck in Taehyung’s throat as he watched you, like a hungry lion, as you undid his pants and pulled them down, gifting you with the sight of his white boxers.

Just because you knew he liked it, you moaned at the glorious sight of his big, heavy cock already so hard and ready for you; fingers caressing the tip of his member, where a small stain of precum already started to form. Taehyung was so on the edge that he hissed at the contact, one of his hands meeting the back of your head in a mindless impulse. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Oh, so you can and I can’t?” You leaned your head to the side, and planted a kiss on his cock before looking up at him. May the heavens have mercy on you, because you never saw Taehyung so pissed off and turned on at the same time. “I think I could even make you cum like this if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Don’t you dare,” he struggled to get out.

“What? You liked when I did that the other times,” you cooled. “Sometimes you didn’t even need my mouth.”

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the moan that started to climb up his throat. “Stop.”

“What? You don’t remember?” You asked, placing another kiss on his member, closer to tip that time. “When I let you grind against my ass in the library? You came just by humping me, pants and all.”

With a cute smile, your hand squeezed his dick, before moving up and down, following its thick outline. Taehyung was dumbfounded, left to watch as your delicate hands worked on his erection with unbearable patience, his eyes glued to every action that you made — the fluttering of your eyelashes, the innocent gazes that you threw his way every time your lips met the cotton of his underwear. If you kept it up for long enough, he was sure he would cum all over his boxers.

Still, the gods above had heard his prayers, and Taehyung watched as you pulled his underwear down. Without a second of hesitation, you moaned as your tongue licked him all the way from the base to the top, lips enveloping his crown as you sucked on it ever so slightly.

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, fingers pulling on your hairstrands. “That’s good, fuck.”

You hummed, content at his reaction, and pushed him deeper inside your warm mouth, one of your hands holding at the base of his cock. Beneath your other palm, you could feel as the muscles of his thigh tensed up at the sensation. His lips open slighlty, allowing for a long, erotic moan to echo inside the bathroom as you started to set a pace, sucking him slowly, just like you knew it drove him mad.

“You’re so fucking good at this, baby,” Taehyung groaned, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. The vision of him was ethereal: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows forming an expression of sheer pleasure and concentration. You cursed your own eyes as they started to water, preventing you from watching him a bit further. “Oh, that’s right, just like that.. you suck me so well, fuck.”

The pulsating, unsatisfied sensation of need between your thighs only grew, your walls clenching around nothing and your heart beating fast against your chest. You could taste as his precum leaked inside your mouth, his fragmented breaths and whines showing you that Taehyung also wasn’t made of steel. As much as you’d like to see him cum soon, you also needed to be taken care of.

After a particularly hard suck, you pulled your mouth away from his member, and looked up at him. The lack of contact was all that Taehyung needed to open his eyes and stare down at you, surprised at the interruption of his pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you tried your best to make your voice sound as pure and sensual as you could. His eyes widened slightly at the sound — no matter how hard he tried to make it seem like he was annoyed by that saint act of yours, you knew that it drove him insane. “I want you to fuck me now, please.”

You watched as his face presented a thousand emotions at the same time, and then eventually settled on the cool, controlled dominance you adored so much. Another surge of pleasure ran down your body, much stronger this time, and the feeling of your soaked panties against your pussy was making you go insane with anticipation.

“I love it when you ask politely.” He placed his hand on your chin, trailing your lower lip with his thumb. “Get up, baby,” he commanded.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you did as you were told, letting your body be guided by his large hands.

Taehyung turned you around and leaned you against the sink, positioning himself behind you. “Back to me, ass up,” he said, “Keep it like this, alright?”

You nodded, unsure that you could say anything else.

“Good girl.” Taehyung once again held your chin up, making you stare at your own reflection in the mirror for a second before your eyes traveled towards his. God, he was an absolute mess. In the best of ways. “I want you to look at it.”

Any second now, your legs would give out and you would crash down on the floor — or, at least, that’s the sensation you had. It was unbearable to watch as Taehyung took his time removing his shirt; then your skirt and your panties, dripping them down your legs one by one, his mouth so deliciously close to your heat that you felt like you could faint.

“So pretty,” he mumbled to himself, watching your pussy with desire. “So fucking wet.”

“I want to feel you, please.” You arched your back, throwing your hips closer to his.

“Like this, baby?” With a glorious roll of his hips against yours, you felt as his cock moved in between your folds, his head only touching your clit slightly. The sensation alone was enough to make you perk your ass up at him, a motion that wasn’t left unnoticed by his part.

He smirked at your reaction. “Such a pure little thing, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s hands palmed your ass, moving like snakes towards your waist, where they held you in place. Another roll of his hips and the contact of his dick against your clit made your knees buckle. “You’re so polite, just asking for my cock again and again… You don’t even notice how wet you get thinking about it, grinding against it. Isn’t that so?”

You had no option but to agree, lowering your head to look at the marble sink beneath you. “Yeah,” your voice came out in a pathetic whine, but you couldn’t even care about it. You just wanted to feel him inside you. “It’s all for you, Taehyung.”

“Good girl,” he praised, taking one of his hands to guide his cock towards your opening. Expectant, you held your breath, but he didn’t slide in just yet. “Just tell me what you want, come on.” Again, he leaned in and pushed your chin up. “And look at me while you say that.”

Obediently, you did. Taehyung was a greek god then. Under the pale yellow lights of the bathroom, his lips were swollen and red, the lower one being bit lightly by his teeth; his entire expression permeated by lust as he dove into the sensation of his cock teasing your entrance. He stared at you like you were good enough to eat, his eyes coruscating with so much hunger that you couldn’t even think about anything else but him. No wonder you kept coming back. His entire presence was engulfing every fiber of your being.

Maybe Kim Taehyung did have a golden dick, after all.

“I want you to fuck me, Taehyung,” a sentence had never been so clear, so sincere. From the corner of your eye, you could see your own face, desperate and pleading, as you fumbled closer to his member. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

With a hum, he kissed the nape of your neck. “Whatever my girl wants.”

And, before you could even think about his words, your thoughts were broken as you moaned out his name, feeling as his big cock stretched you, hitting all the right spots. You had missed that sensation so much, of being so full of him, so hypnotized by the movements of his body against yours, that you didn’t even compute the shuddering breath that departed from his mouth, nor the curse that he had let out once he felt the warmness of your walls around his aching member.

He thought he could lose his last ounces of sanity as he pulled out just enough to leave only his tip in, before throwing his lips against yours and filling you back up. Soon enough, Taehyung was setting a rhythm, unable to control his comments as he kept thrusting inside you.

“So tight, baby,” he spoke in a whisper, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it. His face in the mirror was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen: Taehyung was so lost in pleasure that his features had morphed into an expression of sheer bliss; all of his concentration directed at the movements of your body, the way that your walls held him with so much desire. “You take my cock so well… Shit, you’re making me go crazy.”

Taehyung’s breath quivered and he leaned his body towards you, fighting for balance. He had one of his hands on your waist, and the other was holding down to the sink, leveling his figure as he started to thrust into you in that different angle — just as slow, hard and deep as he had promised.

You rolled your head back once he hit the right spot inside you, your moans going up an octave. “Fuck, right there, Taehyung,” you whined, barely aware of the volume of your voice. To hell with it, the music was too loud anyways. “There, right there, don’t stop.”

“Here?” He groaned, thrusting in the exact place that made you cry out. “That’s it, baby, let it out.”

And you wanted to prolong that moment for as long as you could, but, truth was, he had played around with you enough that you knew you wouldn’t last much. Even sucking his cock, feeling as he mumbled and trembled under your touches, had been enough to keep you turned on. Again: you were only human, and the paradisiacal feeling of Taehyung’s cock filling you up to the brim, hitting your sweet spot with forceful thrusts, was a bit more than you could endure.

“Taehyung, I think I’m close,” you told him, feeling as your arms grew weaker beneath you. It was just a matter of time before your legs started shaking too. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Shh, that’s fine, baby.” He moved your hair away from your back, placing a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulders. “Come on, cum around my cock. I want to feel you.”

“It’s so big, Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes in defeat. You could tell that your pleasure was already building up too much, too fast. You couldn’t help it: he was stretching you so fantastically that every part of you was on overdrive, the pent-up tension of the entire night culminating in one long, edging orgasm.

“It’s all yours, baby, all of it,” he told you, guiding you towards your high. God, his voice was so hoarse, so sweet. “Cum for me, okay? And don’t hold back, I want to hear you.”

Just like that, you came with a loud moan and the calling of his name in a repetitive prayer, walls clenching around him in a way that made him lose his grip on reality. You whimpered at the pleasure, that now was gradually subsiding, and lowered your body against the marble, feeling how cold it was, how different it was from the rest of the bathroom.

“That’s it, baby, yeah… That was so fucking hot.” Taehyung groaned behind you, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was moving you so hard that you could feel your hip bones being pressed against the corners of the marble surface, the dirty sound of wetness and skin against skin filling the ambient. “Look at all this… so wet and tight, even after coming so hard.”

From the way that Taehyung’s movements started to get sloppier, you could tell that he was losing himself in his own sense of pleasure, getting closer to his own climax. “All of this… all for me,” he moaned out, eyes glued to the motion of his cock coming in and out of your dripping center. “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this forever.”

The pounding of his hips against your ass was getting so intense that you could feel tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes, fingers trembling under the weight of overstimulation. Taehyung had fucked you hard before, but you just couldn’t get used to how fantastic it felt.

“I’m close,” he cried out behind you, his breath coming out in broken, tremulous expirations. “Can I cum on your mouth, baby? I want to see you swallow everything.”

You nodded, mouth salivating at the thought.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “That’s my girl.”

Taehyung pulled away from you and you moved fast, getting back down on your knees as he guided his cock, so red and swollen, against your lips.

You opened your mouth to accommodate him, taking his member slowly at first, thinking it would be better to adjust to its size. After that part was done — and Taehyung had already turned into a quivering mess above you — you proceeded to move your head, sucking his cock as hard as you could muster.

“That’s right, suck it,” he moaned, buckling his hips forward. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged, presenting Taehyung with one of the most gorgeous views he had seen all night. “Fuck, yeah— Take everything, baby, come on.”

You did, of course. You continued to suck Taehyung with a moderate pace — not so slow that it would kill him, but not so fast that it would kill you — and watched as he started to become undone under your touches. First, it were his trembling thighs, then the weakening of his grip on his head. You looked up at him with blurry eyes and watched as his lips fell open, moaning obscenities, and his eyes closed with intense concentration. It was just a matter of time before he—

“F-fuck!”

Taehyung spilled in your mouth and you struggled to swallow everything, just like he had told you to, whining at the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching in between your lips. The discomfort between your thighs had resumed, pulsating inside your core in a silent need, but you didn’t think you’d have the stamina to deal with it right then and there.

You pulled your head away from his cock when he started wincing with sensitivity. With doll-like eyes, you met his hooded ones, glad to see the satisfaction and appreciation that was plastered all across his face. He always looked so good after sex, you realized, and you felt extremely satisfied to know that his fucked-out, blissful expression was all because of you.

In a gentle motion, Taehyung placed his thumb on your check, cleaning a bit of his cum, and brought it over to your lips. “You missed this bit,” he said.

You sucked his thumb clean without thinking twice, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable your knees felt. Above you, Taehyung smirked at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair.

After he removed his thumb from your mouth, you got back to your feet. It crossed your mind that your legs might give out eventually, but, thankfully, they seemed a bit more firm than you had anticipated. “Better?” You asked.

“Perfect.” Taehyung kissed you, sighing against your mouth. He pulled away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow after everything you two had done. “You always are.”

“Aw, how nice of you.” You smiled at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. The bathroom was starting to get cold, and the afterglow of sex couldn’t keep you warm for much longer. “Always with the compliments.”

He hummed in agreement, watching your naked body; your fingers holding that red bra he adored so much. “Any chance I could see you again this week?”

An incredulous laugh ruptured your lips as you clasped your bra behind your back. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking about the next time?”

He shrugged. “I like to have a schedule.”

“I’ll think about it.” Your skirt moved up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as Taehyung fumbled with his own pants, which he now cursed for being inside out. Seems like he was only thoughtful when it came to your wardrobe. “It’s not like we usually know when this stuff is going to happen.”

There was a slight tremble in your fingertips as you reached for your blouse and placed it back on your body, but you decided to ignore it.

“I guess,” he mumbled.

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror as you started to close your buttons, somewhat amazed by the fact that it didn’t appear like you just had had sex. Yeah, your hair was all over the place, and maybe your neck was a bit too red in a few spots, but nothing that a bit of time wouldn’t fix. Could’ve been worse.

“Can you pass me some toilet paper?” You asked him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. There was no way in hell you were going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando wasn’t exactly the most welcoming either.

Taehyung was sitting on the toilet lid, putting his pants back, and simply nodded in agreement before doing so. “I’d like to know, though,” he insisted.

You smiled, taking a cheeky glance at him. “Since when you’re so needy?”

He groaned. “I’m not needy, shut up”

“Well… You have my number.” You responded, throwing the paper in the trash after you had finished cleaning yourself up. “Call me whenever you’re feeling like it, and I’ll see what I can do.”

He pouted, clearly frustrated at the answer. “And what if you can’t make it?”

“Then you have two good hands to help you,” you answered simply, fingers working on adjusting your hair. The sound of his zipper closing echoed inside the cubicle. “Besides.. you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.”

You threw your red panties at him, watching as his face grew interested at the piece of wet cloth in his hands. Taehyung sighed, tugging his shirt back inside his pants. “You’re killing me,” he complained.

“Good.” You smiled, turning back at him. “How do I look? Presentable?”

He examined you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “It doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Great!” You swirled around, giving the mirror a last peek. You were getting suspiciously good at making it seem like you two never happened. “Have a nice night, Taehyung. Maybe wait like five minutes before leaving the bathroom. And don’t get too excited with the panties.”

Taehyung got up and walked closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. You were positive he would have fun with it later. “You’re going home already?” He asked.

“Yeah, you did a good job at making me tired.” The clicking of the lock was a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during that time, so maybe your sexual shenanigans had been overlooked once again. “So don’t worry. I’m in need of a good night of sleep. I’m not spending any time with your horny friends.”

Taehyung chuckled, leaning closer to you. “I was kind of exaggerating about that Jimin part for dramatic effect, but alright.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Good night. Thanks for the panties.”

You laughed. “You’re welcome.”

Just like that, you were out the door, and the moments you had shared in that bathroom with Taehyung had been placed inside a capsule. No one noticed you as you walked through the corridor, past the few strangers still around, and down the stairs, where the party had clearly lost its initial olympian proportions.

Cups and pieces of paper were thrown all over the floor, and you watched as people stumbled around, trying to find some sort of balance against the walls. No matter how many Hoseok Parties you went to, you were always amazed at the way that they were quick to be set ablaze, but equally quick to burn off. It was like premature ejaculation, in the weirdest and saddest of ways.

Still, you weren’t expecting to see a recognizable face at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hyejin,” you called, surprised to see your friend around. “Thought you would’ve gone to bed with Hoseok by now.”

Seeming as dumbfounded as you, she followed your movements as you walked down the terminal steps, finally reaching the first floor of the house. There was a weird shadow of discomfort casted over her features, and you thought it had something to do with Hoseok. “Uh… Not really,” she told you. “I just want to go home, actually.”

“You and I both.” You placed one of your arms around her shoulder, guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s go, this place has already peaked, anyway.”

She suspired, her lips pouting. “Thanks.”

A few minutes of silence expanded between the two of you as you walked out of the house and into the front lawn, where a sea of trash had already taken over a few chunks of grass. You didn’t know how or why, but someone had brought an inflatable pool, and there was only one solitary purple dildo swimming in it. What a sad sea creature, you thought, before your attention was pulled back to your friend.

Hyejin switched uncomfortably in your arms, hugging her own body in a way to shield herself from the gelid breeze of the night. You looked at her with care, watching as her face contorted at sight of the street lights, magnifying the odd expression that had taken over her. “Tell me what happened between you two,” you asked tenderly. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

Your friend hesitated and, suddenly, you felt bad for pressuring her. At the same time, you were worried that something bad had happened. “Yeah… so… apparently he thought he was texting a different person,” she told you. You could tell that she was having a hard time speaking. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He said that in front of everyone. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.”

Suddenly, you recognized that expression as being pure, unshakable humiliation. That must’ve been an ugly moment, really, since Hyejin wasn’t one to break easily. The booze probably didn’t help her emotional state either.

“Hyejin, I’m so sorry. He really is a fucking idiot for treating you like that.” You squeezed her body against yours in an awkward sideways hug. She eased into your touch, shoulders falling under the weight of your comforting words. “That really sucks. We can find a way to kill him, if you want. I’d hide the body and never talk about it again.”

Even if she chuckled at the idea, you could tell she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Yeah… I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.” She cleared her throat, hugging her own body with a bit more force. The car was just a few steps away from the two of you, and you were beyond glad that you had managed to find a spot so close to the house. “Anyways… there’s something else. I went to find you earlier, when it all went down, so we could go home.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt hitting you like a punch in the gut. “Sorry, I was upstairs.”

“Yeah, I realized that once I didn’t find you,” she continued. Hyejin’s voice was weak, her syllables slightly disconnected. She often spoke like that once intoxication and exhaustion joined in a horrible after-party dance. “I went up and searched around for you, but I… uh…”

The two of you finally reached the vehicle, and you removed your arm from around her so you could move towards the driver’s side. You frowned at her hesitation, watching her over the roof of the car. “What is it?” You asked.

“I needed to use the bathroom…” she trailed off. Her tone was almost inaudible. “And I…”

You opened your purse, squinting your eyes to try and find the car key amidst the dimly-lit street. “And?”

“The door was locked.” She gawked at you, eyes suddenly growing serious. You didn’t like drunk-Hyejin, with her unstable moods and abrupt expression switches. It was watching a horror movie sometimes. “Because you were in there.”

Oh, you seriously didn’t want to have that conversation at that moment.

Finally, you found the key and unlocked the car. The sound was like a gunshot through the night, your pulse starting to pick up the pace. You knew where she was heading towards now, but it’s not like she could be sure that it was you in there. You’d deny until the end of time.

“What makes you think that it was me?” You questioned, opening the door.

This time, she didn’t hesitate to respond. “I heard you.”

Oh. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

Keep your cool. It’s okay. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t?” She started to raise her voice, clearly pissed off. You two were arriving at stage two of drunk Hyejin: past the sad introspection, and into banshee level. “I had to pee on the disgusting bathroom downstairs because you were fucking someone in there! I had to wait twenty minutes in line! And you lied to me! You told me you didn’t have a dick appointment!”

“Shhh! Stop yelling!” You asked, exasperated. The night was too cold and the streets were too empty. You just wanted to go home before someone heard you. All that it needed was one half-assed comment from Taehyung about him going to the upstairs bathroom, plus someone interested enough to connect the dots, and your little secret would be up. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, okay? Now, please, get in the car, you’re super drunk.”

Before Hyejin could protest, which you were sure she would, you sank down on your seat, running away from her judgemental semblance. The thought of just driving off in sheer panic crossed your mind, but you quickly ignored it. You couldn’t leave her alone in that place, especially in the inebriated state she was in. No matter how much you really, really wanted to.

Your friend followed your lead and sat down on the passenger seat, watching as you closed your door and checked the mirrors, avoiding her gaze with all your might. She sighed. “I don’t understand… Why didn’t you go somewhere else for that? People need to pee, you know? Or, I don’t know, puke… or maybe even—“

You threw your purse on the backseat, sighing in exasperation. That conversation was the last thing you needed after that night. “I don’t think it matters right now—“

“It does matter! I could’ve gotten a urinary tract infection.” Hyejin banged the door by her side, and you could tell she simply wasn’t measuring her force right. She groaned, lazily adjusting her body on the seat. “Now, you have to tell me who it was. It’s the minimum you can do.”

You almost choked on your own saliva. She really was out of it. “Like I’d ever do something like that.”

Silence grew thick inside the car, falling above you like a blanket. Hyejin looked at you like you had just grown a second head, making sure that she wasn’t drunk enough to imagine you flat-out denying her an information so valuable. To be fair, it wasn’t like you to avoid questions or keep names from her — at least, not so openly. You knew that she wasn’t dumb, and that she could tell that something was up even in her intoxicated state.

“You’re really not gonna say?” She tried again, still struggling to keep her speech tied together. It was only a matter of time before she calmed down and fell asleep, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that subject any further. “You almost gave me an UTI, and now you’re not gonna say who you were with? I need to know if it was worth keeping the bathroom all to yourself, because I already told you, someone probably went up there trying to—“

“Shit, Hyejin! I get it, you, can stop now.” You clicked your seatbelt with a bit more aggression than necessary. “You’re drunk right now.”

You leaned over her and placed her seatbelt too, since you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. Not with that poor movement precision.

“And?” She pressed on as you moved back to your seat. “You’re going to tell me once I’m sober or something?”

You laughed, placing one of your hands on the wheel. “No, of course not.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms dramatically and looked out of the window, pouting like a child. “I hate you for not saying.”

“Well, I love you.” You looked at her, your own gaze navigating towards the window. Beyond the fogged glass, the house glowed in the most diverse colors, the sound of the bass reverberating inside your car like a distant pulse. You watched, heart clenching inside of your chest, as Taehyung stepped out of the front door with Jimin, his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. There was a volume at his front pocket, where you were sure he had tugged in your panties. “But now I think that we should go home and sleep. Let’s keep this conversation on hold.”

Hyejin, however, wasn’t satisfied. “You know that I’ll find out eventually,” she said, still looking out of the window. “I always do.”

You chuckled, turning on the engine of the car. On the other side of the street, the two boys took the opposite direction, leaving you two to stare at the open road before you. “Well, I’d love to see you try.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #taehyung imagines #bts v #fuckboy taehyung #fratboy taehyung #college au #one shot

2K notes · View notes

stargazingblockhead · 2 years

Text

Obsession (Obikin)

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Anakin Skywalker (RotS)

Summary: Anakin struggles with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and Obi-Wan reassures and comforts him upon finding out.

Word Count: 2k+

Tags: Whump, angst, comfort, reassurance, no smut, praise (if you squint)

Warnings: OCD, panic attack, mentions of death, struggle breathing

Author’s Note: This is in no way meant to romanticize OCD or belittle the struggles which it can impose. I struggle with OCD, and have written this based on my experiences with the disorder, however, it should be noted that every individual experiences OCD differently and it impacts everyone in different ways. I hope this fic can bring some of the struggles to light as there are many misconceptions surrounding OCD and encourage those struggling to seek help.

----

It started as nothing more than a bit of twitching; perfect intervals of four had to be maintained. Anakin would sit during his meditations and, when a compulsion to wiggle his leg came, he did, but it had to be in fours. Twos weren’t horrible, but they were lacking, foreshadowing Anakin’s failure in... something. Threes were abominable, and fives were acceptable, but Anakin certainly became restless when his actions didn’t align with the ever-sounding beats in his mind. It was as if he couldn’t function until he completed the invisible task before him, each wrong move being a terrible omen.

Needless to say, it became a problem.

These obsessions grew into nightmares, dictating all of the Jedi Knight’s life. When sparring, he could only make an offensive move after four defensive blocks, and each time his light saber returned to his belt, the front had to be perfectly aligned with the stitches of his robe. Before he could go to sleep, he would get out of bed and persistently check to make sure the door to his quarters were unlocked (in case of an emergency in which Obi-Wan had to enter.)

These habits were well kept from the boy’s master, but, meticulous as he was, the older man began catching on.

“Anakin, stop,” said Obi-Wan. They were training; hand-to-hand combat. Anakin was sweating profusely as his master seemed on the verge of chiding him.

“I intentionally let down my guard then. My entire right side was vulnerable. Surely you know better than to pass it up,” he said. He weighed his words carefully as Anakin’s eyes darted to the floor.

“Yes, Master,” the boy mumbled.

“Yes what, Anakin?” said Obi-Wan.

“I should have went for your side. I saw it, just not quickly enough.”

Obi-Wan considered this. “Hmph,” he settled with.

Anakin said nothing, but prepared for the next round. Perhaps humility kept him from wanting Obi-Wan to discover his disorder. In his nervousness, he shut his eyes for four seconds, four times, making sixteen seconds of them being closed.

He felt a hand collide with his side.

“Anakin!” exclaimed his master. “You must keep your eyes open.” He seemed astonished, and the look on his face provided the boy no relief. He gripped the hem of his robes, fidgeting nervously.

“I’m sorry, Master,” was all he knew to say.

Obi-Wan viewed him diligently. “Why don’t you go on up, alright? Rest for tomorrow.” Tomorrow they were to head off on some mission to eliminate a gang of anarchists on a desert planet. The details were lost to Anakin.

Anakin nodded, rushing up to his quarters.

----

He thought relief would come with solitude, but, alas, he was wrong.

He knows, he knows, he knows, he knows, though Anakin. He knows that I have to do these silly things.

The concept of his OCD was the most embarrassing part of it all. He knew it was all nonsensical, that made-up rituals did not impact an event’s outcome, and yet, he felt compelled to complete them, and acted upon these impulses as if his life depended on it.

He knows. I’m so immature, so silly, so insignificant, so thoughtless...

Anakin slumped to the floor of his quarters, breaking into a feverish sweat. He tapped unceasingly on the ground, cursing himself when he touched a bit too much to the left. When his body weight wasn’t perfectly centered, he shifted, yearning for an impossible equilibrium.

Salty tears mixed with salty sweat as he huffed around, agitated. He couldn’t control the signals his mind sent to his body, the forced resignation of subtle-but-dictating movements. When Anakin gave up trying to satisfy himself, he curled in on his legs, wrapping his arms around them while they dug into his rib cage. He felt utterly violated and disgusting, sitting like an undignified rock on the Earth who was about to be the victim of some terrible tragedy.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to-

“Anakin?” His Master’s soft voice came from far away, but Anakin refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t know if Obi-Wan was actually standing in his room until he felt a light hand on his shoulder and a warm presence crouching beside him.

“Anakin, I’m going to need you to look at me,” Obi-Wan said to him clearly. Anakin, revolting as he felt, tried to squirm tightly against the wall, away from his pure Master whom he did not wish to contaminate. Anakin could feel shards of warm, light breath on his exposed forearms as his Master seemed to inch closer to his trembling figure.

“Anakin, please. I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” The command was made with a gentle, grounding firmness that Anakin could never oppose. Sheepishly, the boy, still shaking, raised his eyelids from underneath his arms.

The eye contact was almost too much for Anakin.

You’re going to die, I’m going to die, you’re going to die and it’s going to be all my fault-

Before Anakin could retract back into his slumped pose, however, Obi-Wan, in his tender confusion, found his hand reaching for the Knight’s head. It felt the soft, clammy skin of the boy’s jawline, where Obi-Wan firmly held his head up, thus forcing the boy to look at him.

Anakin wriggled relentlessly, trying to escape from his grasp.

“N-no,” he choked out, trying to escape his Master’s hold. Obi-Wan was unrelenting.

“Anakin, please let me help you. There’s nothing you’re going through that we can’t fix together.”

Anakin let out terrified whine. No, you don’t understand, this is my battle that will kill you. Anakin didn’t know how exactly Obi-Wan would die, only that he would because of him, that if he kept touching him in this state, some ethereal thing would snatch him.

Anakin’s breaths became impossible fast, and Obi-Wan felt a shock of worry at this state of him.

“Anakin, listen to my voice,” said Obi-Wan. He grasped Anakin’s left hand lightly and gently pried open the clenched fist. Anakin tried to resist, but the loving hands got the best of him. Obi-Wan placed the boy’s hand on his heart.

Anakin panicked. No, no, no, not your heart.

“Feel my heartbeat, young one. Feel my chest as I breathe deeply, in and out.” Anakin attempted to pry his hand away, but Obi-Wan held it securely. He felt as if he was poisoning his master.

“Breathe with me, young one,” whispered Obi-Wan, face mere inches from Anakin’s. Anakin wanted to keep resisting, wanted to continue squirming on the floor and tapping the ground until everything felt balanced, but he was not willful enough. With a vague feeling of dread settling in the back of his mind, Anakin relinquished all of his struggles and breathed a deep, shaky breath in and out.

“Yes, that’s it, now. You’re doing so well. Keep breathing.” Obi-Wan didn’t pressure Anakin into telling him what was the matter, but rather sought to provide him comfort at such a time. That carefulness made Anakin want to obey him, internal impulses be damned.

The sweat and tears soon subsided, drying roughly on Anakin’s face that Obi-Wan kept gazing at. When Anakin seemed more collected, Obi-Wan began speaking gently.

“I know you’ve been a bit out of sorts as of late, Anakin,” he said, Anakin becoming aware of their close proximity. This time, he didn’t inch away, but merely nodded.

“And I think it would beneficial to discuss this before it drives you mad.”

Anakin flinched at this and bit his lip. Sure, he knew such a conversation was inevitable, but he hadn’t expected it so soon, or to have come about in such a humiliating manner. He was grateful for his disheveled curls that hung low on his face, blocking half of his Master from view. Perhaps Obi-Wan would be angry with him. The thought tore the boy apart.

“Please, tell me what troubles you, Young One.”

Anakin took one last rugged breath. “I- well- it’s hard to say,” he mumbled, eyes looking down again.

Obi-Wan gave a small, considerate smile. “Try your hardest, then.”

“There are some things I feel like I just... have to do,” Anakin said sheepishly. Obi-Wan looked puzzled.

“Yes, I understand that. Jedi have obligations.”

Anakin met his Master’s gaze once more, blushing profusely. “No, no, not those types of obligations. Little things; insignificant things that I have to do, sometimes a certain number of times.” He looked down at his legs again, embarrassed by his poor explanation.

Obi-Wan seemed to concentrate on Anakin’s words for a moment. His brow furrowed, not unfeelingly. “Why do you feel obligated to do these... things?”

As reality struck Anakin again, the tears came back. Because you’re going to die, and I’m going to die, and it’s going to be painful and harsh, and-

“Anakin?” said Obi-Wan softly. He slowly wrapped his arms around Anakin’s midsection, closing his hands just beneath the nape of his neck. When Anakin tried to escape, to stop the poison that he was sure he was giving to Obi-Wan, his Master didn’t let him.

“Stop!” Anakin exclaimed, though, through his tears, it came out as more of a whimper. “I’m going to kill you!”

Obi-Wan went still. Anakin knew he was going to be angry, going to lash out and never speak to him again. Or he would just drop dead.

Instead, Obi-Wan brought his hands to cradle Anakin’s frail face. “You’re not going to kill me, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded profusely, feverishly. “Y-yes, yes I am. You’ll die and I’ll die if I don’t do things correctly.”

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to understand quite well, but he kept listening, gently stroking the side of Anakin’s face in an attempt at comfort. “What things are you referring to?”

Anakin seemed to be in physical pain as he registered the question. “I- erm- little things. Like when we’re sparring. I can’t make on offensive move until I’ve made four defensive moves. And when I put something on a shelf, it had to be perfectly aligned. I can’t sit down without my weight being perfectly balanced, and other stupid things like that.” Anakin was quiet in his humiliation.

“And you think we’ll both die if you don’t do these things?” Obi-Wan asked this in a considerate way without any tinge of judgement, but it still hit Anakin like a blow.

“I- I know we won’t. Logically,” he stammered. “But none of it is logical.” Obi-Wan grasped Anakin’s strong, bare forearms in his own calloused hands and gazed upon him intently.

“Anakin, there’s no need to be embarrassed. No, look at me,” Obi-Wan said. “There isn’t. I can imagine it’s difficult, and me telling you it’s all in your head would be no good. You already know that, am I correct?”

Anakin nodded lightly. He wanted to collapse his head into Obi-Wan’s chest and let him find the unobtainable balance for him, but his pride wouldn’t let him.

“While I am unfamiliar with aspects of this condition, I can almost guarantee that the way to overcome it would be refraining yourself from relinquishing into your impulses.” Obi-Wan stated this as a matter of fact, as if it would be simple. Anakin went to protest.

“But-”

“I know it’s difficult, young one. And it will be uncomfortable, I’m sure. But I will be here every step of the way.”

Anakin couldn’t restrain himself. “You’ll be dead.”

Obi-Wan’s face fell, realizing the extent of Anakin’s suffering. He wrapped his arms around him once more and, before his scruples got the best of him, pulled Anakin into his lap where he seemed to melt into the reassuring touch.

“Anakin, I promise I won’t.” Obi-Wan knew this was a risky gamble to make, seeing as he couldn’t guarantee his life, but he believed the odds in his favor. “I’m right here, young one,” he whispered into Anakin’s curls.

Anakin considered this, breathing as steadily as he could. “Please,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Of course I won’t. I’ll stay forever if I must.”

51 notes · View notes

dorotharry · 3 years

Text

tiny dancer ; prologue

Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

Next Chapter

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: kinda long for a prologue, fluff, not really much but please let me know if anything in this upsets you.

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: This is my first Bucky fic, I thought of it last night and I was kind of excited to write it. Sorry if any of the information is wrong as well my knowledge of Ballet and Brooklyn/NY are limited. I’m not sure if there are any similar story types but feel is so please let me know and I’ll tag them for people to read in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy :) Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter.

Before everything - 1942

“Oh, come on Steve, come to the Ballet with me!” Bucky spoke enthusiastically, his arms pressed again the frame of Steve’s front door. “It’s my last week before I go.”

“And you couldn’t have just chose to go to a bar like any other normal man would a week before going to the war?” Steve responded looking sceptically at his best friend. Someone who he had never known to be interested in ballet.

“Because going to a bar filled with soldiers would be a bright choice for you,” sighed Bucky, “I’d rather not have to get into another fight…” Steve rolled his eyes and pursed his lips waiting for Bucky to continue. “Everyone in New York is talking about the Ballet! Don’t you want to feel cultured?” Bucky exclaimed moving away from the door frame. “Plus!, I got us pretty good seats if I do say so myself, what row was it again…?” He trailed off looking smugly at Steve. “…Oh, that’s right! Row three.”

“Too bad you couldn’t score front row,” responded Steve mimicking Bucky’s cocky attitude. Bucky huffed at his friend’s response. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” laughed Steve, “Fine if the ballet is where you want to go a week before you go, then the ballet is where we’re going, I guess.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up at his friends’ words. “Yes! This is going to be great, a night on the town, just two gentlemen going to see the ballet.” He grinned, Steve noting how happy he seemed to be going to the ballet; he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm”, Bucky spoke turning away from his still sceptical best friend.

“Okay then,” responded Steve watching him walk off.

Just as he’d said, Bucky had picked Steve up the next day, driving them to the theatre and making it there for 6:30. They wandered the foyer looking at all of the people dressed up to watch the performance like them. Many had already been a few times and were raving about what they were most excited for again. For Bucky and Steve though, this is new territory. Both of them glad though that they were doing something new. They made their way into the theatre finding their seats, as everyone began to pile in, ready for the show.

“I’ve heard that the lead female ballet dancer is meant to be very good”, whispered Bucky to Steve as the lights began to dim.

“You mean the Prima Ballerina?” Whispered back Steve correcting him.

Bucky looked at Steve with an amused look. “For someone who didn’t want to come you sure know a lot about ballet”, chuckled Bucky placing his focus back towards the stage.

Steve sighed and looked back at him, “I don’t know a lot of ballet, that’s just common knowled—” He was shushed by Bucky as he tapped him on the shoulder multiple times in order to tell him to be quiet. Steve looked towards the stage again as the orchestra began playing.

Bucky watched as the curtains opened, the stage filled with ballet dancers.

Not long into the performance you would enter, nervous side stage as your friends reminded you of how brilliant you would be. This wasn’t your first time performing but every time was just as nerve-wracking as the last. This was your passion of course, and you wanted nothing more than to be perfect. You looked down at your tutu, a bright red tutu, a colour that stood out amongst the rest of the cast who were dressed in whites and greens. Even the male lead was only dressed in white. You particularly like your pointe shoes the best; they were a stunning bright red to match the rest of your costume.

Shaken from your thoughts you heard the beginning of your entrance within the music, jumping up and down briefly before getting into position to enter. Then you did, getting into character instantly.

Bucky gasped as his eyes followed you as you entered the stage so gracefully. He had heard you were a magnificent dancer, but he didn’t know you were so beautiful. Composing himself in his seat he watched as you were so engrossed in the music and the dance. It was obvious you loved what you did.

As the ballet continued his eyes never lost focus from you. He even thought there was one time when you had looked at him in the audience, but he knew that couldn’t be true, someone so perfect would never draw their focus from their work to look at him.

Even during the interval Bucky was in his own world as he thought about how captivating you had been. Barely listening but nodding as Steve spoke to him about his thoughts of the show.

When the show finally ended the crowd stood up applauding the performance. Eagerly so did Bucky, Steve following. As you bowed many people threw roses and he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any himself. The curtains closed and the theatre lights slowly came back on.

“Well I must say I did enjoy that,” spoke Steve as they exited the theatre, breaking the silence and pulling Bucky from his thoughts, he stopped walked and looked at Steve.

“Steve, call me crazy but I have to meet her, I have to know her name.”

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Alright pal, why don’t we wait near the door the cast exit from?”

Bucky practically jumped up and down as he followed his friend, who somehow knew where the cast door was, although it wasn’t a hard guess. Just down the alleyway next to the theatre.

After the performance, adrenaline was running through you like crazy. You loved this feeling. Tonight’s audience was marvellous, and they held nothing back when applauding you all for your performance.

When you performed you couldn’t see much of the audience due to the stage lights, but you could see up to around the 4th row. While you had stopped at the end one of your solos in the first act your eyes had briefly stumbled upon a very handsome man with brunette hair. But you didn’t get a great look because as soon as one song ended the next one started.

You had removed your costume and let your hair out of its bun brushing it out and attempting to make it look as presentable as you could. You got into a nice dress which you had arrived in, keeping your makeup on along with your bright red lipstick. Grabbing your bag, you said goodbye to your fellow colleagues as you exited the backstage area and entered the alleyway.

As you got to where the alleyway ended, and the city sidewalk started you were met with the same brunette you had noticed during the show. “Miss, I’m terribly sorry to bother you after your show but I just had to introduce myself to such a beautiful and talented woman.” Rambled Bucky.

You blushed and looked down as your dress, “Why thank you…” you trailed off waiting for the handsome stranger to tell you, his name. He seemed a bit distractedd looking at your eyes that he didn’t catch on though, causing his smaller blonde friend next to him to nudge him.

“Oh, sorry my names Bucky,” he replied letting out a nervous chuckle, “and this is Steve,” gesturing to his best friend.

Steve raised his arm to shake your hand, “Sorry miss but what was your name again? Bucky here forgot to tell me.”

You raised your arm and shook his hand, letting out a giggle over the two men in front of you, “My names y/n”.

You looked back over at Bucky who seemed to be going over something in his brain. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink or some food or something with me?” What Bucky thought would be a confident question turned more into a rambling mess. Gosh he thought you were pretty.

You blushed, “How am I to know you’re not a murderer?” Raising an eyebrow at the nervous man in front of you.

Steve interjected this time, “I can confirm y/n, he’s not a murderer. Honestly, he’s usually a lot better at flirting than this, I’ve never seen him look so nervous.”

Bucky sent a death glare at Steve before looking back at you. You laughed again, grinning ear to ear, “Well I am pretty hungry, so I won’t say no, especially when a ladies’ man is so nervous to talk to me.” You smirked.

Now it was Bucky’s turn to grin, “great!” He responded. “I just have to drop Steve home and then we’re all set… Did you have a car?” He asked.

“Nope,” you spoke back, “so… do you think you’d be able to drop me home afterwards?” you asked, “You know considering I’m being so nice to a stranger.”

“I was going to offer anyway,” he replied signalling you to follow. You chatted with the two men as you walked to the car, when you got there, you insisted Steve sit in the front considering he was being dropped home. Then once you arrived at his, you both said your goodbyes to Steve. “I hope to see you again soon,” you yelled from the car as you sat in the front waving.

Steve waved back, as Bucky drove off to one of his favourite bars/restaurants beeping his horn at Steve as he left.

The rest of the night went smoothly, you both ate and chatted for hours, feeling like time barely existed with one another. It may sound cheesy but both of you felt like you were meant to meet one another. The only downside was that Bucky had told you he would be leaving for the war at the end of week, so you both knew it could never be anything more until at least the war ended.

It wasn’t until you realised the time that you knew you needed to get home, being Prima Ballerina wasn’t an easy job and it required getting at least some sleep. Bucky understood and drove you home continuing to talk about everything together. He even confessed he wished he had of gotten you some roses, to which you responded that how would he have known to do that. Of course, Bucky being a gentleman he still was disappointed he didn’t, even if you didn’t mind.

When you got home you thanked him for the wonderful night. “I’m going to see you again before I go,” he said from in the car, as you stood by the passenger window.

“I hoped you’d say that” you replied, “Good night Bucky,” you blew him a kiss, and his cheeks turned a bright pink.

“Goodnight y/n” he replied, grinning like a fool. He watched you walk into your apartment to make sure you got in safe before driving off. Gosh you were perfect.

It was finally the day he left.

Just like he promised you did see him again. After each show through the week, he would bring you a rose. Each time making you blush.

Most days he just drove you home and you chatted in the car, but a couple of times you got dinner again and made the most of the time you had with your new friend. You wished he didn’t have to go; you wished every time you saw him you could kiss him. But that felt like it would complicate things, you hadn’t known him long enough to put yourself through that kind of heart ache.

You and Steve were at the train station saying goodbye to Bucky. It was hard for Steve, he wanted nothing more than to go with his best friend and fight for his country, but he couldn’t. They didn’t want him.

For you though, you had only known Bucky a week, you had grown so comfortable with him, so it was hard seeing him leave, not knowing if he’d come back. He knew more about you than some of your closest friends that you had known for years, he was just that kind of guy, someone you could trust.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to just grab you and kiss you, but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Steve had told him the day before to just go for it, but he was unsure. He didn’t want to put you through the heart ache. As he picked up his bags, Steve gave him a giant hug, you stepped forward and did the same hoping you wouldn’t have to let him go.

Releasing each other from your embrace, you both looked into each other’s eyes. Your eyes filled with water, and you could tell Bucky was holding back tears.

“Goodbye Steve, goodbye y/n” he spoke sadly as he began to walk towards the train.

Steve looked at you as if to say, ‘are you sure you don’t want to just go for it?’ and you sighed. He was right, what was there to lose? Bugger this you thought, “Bucky!” you yelled running towards him, “You forgot something!” He turned around confused only to be greeted by you grabbing his face and softly yet hungrily pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss dropping his bags, he didn’t push you away instead he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer.

This kiss was nothing like any of the kisses you had experienced before, if fact it made you feel the same way ballet did. It was the same for Bucky, none of the kisses he had ever shared with anyone felt like this.

You finally stopped and parted, resting your foreheads on one another’s.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll see you again.” He spoke softly to you.

You stepped back as a few tears fell down your face, nodding. He gave you a charming Bucky smile before picking his bags back up and turning away. You walked back to Steve giving him a hug, as he watched his best friend leave him for the first time in his life.

You wanted nothing more than to believe that you would see each other again.

Little did you know you would, only 72 years later.

Chapter One (next chapter)

288 notes · View notes

anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Text

for your eyes only || h. styles

warnings: swearing, references to drugs

word count: 2.5k

summary: harry is feeling the pressure of making his new album...

You were already in bed by the time Harry got home. Though still awake, your eyes were heavy and your body ached for rest. But you’d never been able to sleep without knowing Harry was safe at home.

The slamming of the front door echoed through your house. You listened silently as he hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes. You heard him wander into the kitchen, turn on the tap and pour himself a glass of water. After a couple of minutes, he ventured upstairs, heading straight into the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth.

All the while, you stared out the window of your bedroom. It looked out onto the London streets, dimly lit by the street lights. The bedroom was dark, only illuminated slightly by the outside sky and all of its stars and the moon.

Harry had been at the studio all day. He’d been stressing about writing his new album. He had started coming home late and leaving early. You barely saw him anymore. You always left him some leftovers in the fridge for him to eat when he got in or take for his lunch. Every time you tried to ask him if he was okay or if he needed to take a break, he’d just shrug you off and tell you he was fine.

You’d seen a similar thing when he was making his first album, but it was never as bad as this. You’d seen it when he was trying to finish Watermelon Sugar, but it was never as bad as this.

You felt the bed sink beside you, which consequently woke your cat, who was sleeping at the bottom of your bed. His name was Podge. Rolling over to face Harry, you smiled softly at him. You wanted to be angry at him for never telling you where he was anymore or prioritising his album over your relationship, but you just couldn’t be. You always knew where he was. He went to the studio all day and then would go back to Sarah and Mitch’s for a bit during the evening. “How are you?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your body.

“Tired,” you replied, squeezing him tightly.

He pressed his lips lazily to the top of your head. You smiled at the feeling of his touch. “Go to sleep then,” he mumbled.

“But I haven’t seen you today. And I won’t see you tomorrow,” you sighed. “I just miss you. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, love. You know I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

You sat up, turning back to him. He frowned, propping himself up against the headboard. “That’s the thing. I don’t think you would tell me.”

“What? Where did you get that idea?”

“Well, you never told me when you were making your first album. You never told me when you were trying to finish Watermelon Sugar. You don’t have a great track record of being transparent when it comes to telling me when you’re not okay,” you explained. “Instead, all you do is come home and go to sleep. Then you wake up before me to get to the studio early. And even when you finish at the studio, you go back to Sarah and Mitch’s. She’s fucking pregnant, Harry, give them some time alone.”

He sat there and took it like a small child being scolded by his mother. He played with his fingers as you tried not to shout. You both knew it would only be a matter of time before you broke and all your feelings would come pouring out.

The sound of Podge whining at the bottom of the bed interrupted your heated rant. He plodded his way up to the two of you, settling in between you both. He often did that. He’d clamber up to the top of the bed to sleep between your bodies when everyone was comfortable.

Harry reached down to run his hand along Podge’s soft back. You sighed, throwing the covers off your legs. “I’m going to get a drink,” you told him as you left him alone in the bedroom.

He watched you leave. He didn’t call out or beg for your forgiveness. That was never how arguments were handled in your relationship. He sighed, getting comfortable in bed again, waiting for your return. The sound of Podge purring was enough to calm his nerves as he listened to you pour yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. He listened carefully as you walked around a bit, before he heard the back door open and close.

You often went outside to take a moment to collect your thoughts whenever you and Harry got into an argument. Harry knew this.

You set your glass down as you sat down on the bench against the wall. The fabric was cold against your thighs. You looked up at the bedroom window, wondering whether Harry was contemplating everything you’d said or if he was comfortably falling asleep.

Harry waited for you to return. You never did. You’d gone to sleep in the spare bedroom. The two of you were too tired to take it too further tonight. So, you both slept, knowing tomorrow would either be full of shouting and tears of frustration or pettiness.

However, when Harry woke in the morning, he climbed out of bed to apologise to you. Podge followed after him, his claws loud on the floor. But you were gone. The bed in the spare bedroom was made. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen, his nerves getting the better of him. Had you really left?

There was a note on the kitchen counter by the bowl of fruit. ‘GONE OUT FOR BREAKFAST WITH GEM’. Harry looked over at the clock on the wall. It was thirteen minutes past nine. But he didn’t know when you’d written the note. He quietly poured himself a glass of orange juice and buttered some toast. He went out into the back garden, sitting down in the very spot you’d sat in a few hours earlier.

The weather was nice. The sky was blue and there was a moderate breeze in the air. His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up to reveal the picture of you he had set as his lock screen. Your slightly pixelated smile was electric through the screen as you cradled Podge in your arms when he was just a kitten.

The notification was from Mitch. He couldn’t make it to the studio. Harry replied quickly, telling him it wasn’t a problem. It was Saturday anyway. Granted, Harry could probably do with a day off. But, even when he lay in bed all day doing absolutely nothing, he was still working.

That was the trouble with making an album: it plays on your mind until it’s finally out in the hands of the public. More so, Harry noticed, with his solo albums. And that was why Harry seemed to spend every waking moment in the studio. He figured that he might as well be in an environment where he can turn his epiphanies into harmonies.

He heard the front door open and close. You were home. Harry finished the remnants of his orange juice. Podge appeared in the doorway, rubbing his head along on the edge of the threshold. Shortly after, you followed. You were standing in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly. “Not going to the studio today?” you asked, sitting down opposite him.

He shrugged, “Might do. It’s still early yet.”

You nodded. There was no pettiness. There was no shouting. There was just silence with intervals of small talk. Harry watched you as you fiddled with your fingers, your knee bouncing. You were nervous, he could tell. “How was Gemma?” he asked.

“She was great,” you replied. “Asked how you were.”

“Yeah? What did you tell her?”

“I said you were fine,” you shrugged. “Just busy with the album.”

He nodded slowly, “Right.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, sitting up straight. You felt Podge run his body along your leg beneath the table. “What? Was I wrong to say that?” you asked, worrying that you’d done something wrong.

He shook his head quickly, “No, no.”

Harry didn’t say anything more. He was closed off. There was something he wasn’t telling you. You’d been with Harry long enough to know this. Usually, he was quite open with you. He told you what felt like everything. But this never applied to his music. His job. You and his job were two separate things. He made that explicitly clear from the very beginning. You were never to get mixed up with his music and his music was never to get mixed up with you. The line between the two was never blurred.

But this meant he hardly ever told you when he was struggling or when he felt like he needed a break from it all. You only ever heard songs when they were finished. You only ever saw music videos when they were complete. You had only ever been to one awards show with him - the 2020 Brits. You had never even seen the inside of the studio. You had only met his band on a handful of occasions, all of which had been on nights out or for celebratory dinners, never when they were rehearsing.

It was like he was leading two lives.

“You are okay, aren’t you?”

He nodded, “Sure. Just a bit stressed.”

You sighed, exasperated, “You always say that! Every time I ask if you’re doing alright, you just shrug and tell me you’re ‘a bit stressed’. Harry, ‘a bit stressed’ isn’t spending every day at the studio. It isn’t spending all night at the piano, trying to get a song just right. It isn’t constantly comparing yourself to other artists, trying to work out what worked for them and what didn’t. It isn’t getting high every time you fuck something up. It isn’t acting like you have no life outside of the music you make.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a life outside of the music I make. Don’t you get it? I’ve dreamed of this my entire life. I reached the top with the band. And once you’ve had a taste of what it’s like to own the fucking world, everything you do becomes about trying to get there again. It’s like a fucking drug. When it’s been in your system once, it lives there forever and you can’t stop thinking about it. You crave it,” he snapped. You winced as you watched him become so worked up, tears of frustration falling down his cheeks. He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly.

It took you a moment to absorb everything Harry had said. Last night, it had only been a matter of time before you’d broken. Today, it had only been a matter of time since Harry broke. You were sick of it. Harry was sick of it. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as his words registered, “I don’t know if you need to hear this from me. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually said this to you. But you’ll never be as big as the band.”

Harry looked up, his eyebrows knitted together. He looked offended. As anyone would be, you supposed. “What?” he squeaked out.

“I know it’s brutal. And I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you’re never going to be as big as the band. And it’s shit, Harry, I know. But you’re a fifth of that band. Some fans left with Liam, and some left with Zayn, and some left with Louis, and some left with Niall. And some left with you. And some left with all five of you. But the point is you’re missing four of the components you had when you owned the world. That band was fucking massive, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. You didn’t expect him to. You’d said all you felt you needed to say to him. And, while you knew you’d never be able to relate to exactly how Harry was feeling, you’d seen the devastating consequences stardom has on a person. You pressed on, “You owned the fucking world, Harry. But you owned it with four other guys. And I don’t think you could do it on your own.”

He sighed, nodding, “It’s just hard.”

“I know, baby. But it won’t get easier if you just don’t stop. You need to step back from this toxic mindset you’ve got yourself into. You literally just won a Grammy, give yourself a break,” you said.

“That’s the point. I won a Grammy for Watermelon Sugar. What if I can’t make that again?” he sighed.

“Harry, you’ll never be able to make it again. Surely that’s the beauty of it all, right? Nobody wants to hear you put out another Watermelon Sugar. I can guarantee your fans would be happy to listen to what you want to make,” you said.

It felt so foreign to be talking to Harry about these kinds of things. You’d reassured him and given him advice on all sorts, but never about the music industry. That was his area of expertise. But spending time with Gemma always put you in some sort of healthy frame of mind.

You reached across the table to squeeze his hand. There was no way you could still be angry at Harry for spending so much time away from the house. He wiped away the stray tears that clung to his cheeks. He reached down to cuddle Podge, who’d jumped up onto the bench at some point or another. “Thanks,” he said quietly, finally looking you in the eyes. “I’m sorry for getting so worked up over this. It’s so pathetic.”

“Don’t apologise, H. I love you and I’m always gonna be here for you. Please don’t be embarrassed about these things. I’ll never judge you for being emotional,” you smiled softly.

“You’re too good for me,” he said, grinning across at you.

You leaned back in your chair, shrugging, “Probably. I do think of this relationship as more of charity work.”

He laughed, “You’re so selfless!”

“I know! What can I say, some heroes don’t wear capes,” you smirked.

It was moments like these, with the sun beaming down at the two of you, that you’d missed. Harry was smiling again. It felt like something you hadn’t seen for weeks.

The truth was, Harry had always found it easier to express his feelings through the art of music. And, while this posed many benefits for him, it meant that, when he was trapped with writer’s block, he found it difficult to free himself of the burdening stresses of his industry.

You got to your feet, extending your hand to Harry, “Come on, you’ve not had a shower for days. You stink.”

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

337 notes · View notes

solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

A Gift To Remember

Summary: Shadow receives a gift for his birthday that causes a series of very interesting (and often cute) events.

Word count: about 7500 words

Author’s Note: I didn’t realize today was Shadow’s birthday! At the moment I’m more than a little confused because the release dates for SA2 say everything from the 18th to the 23rd, but this seems to be the one, so here this is!

Also, to that one anon whose question about this fic I never quite managed to answer- sorry about that and I do hope you’re still here to read this!

...

The main room of Team Dark’s home was, on a normal day, at least somewhat clean- which was in and of itself surprising, considering the fact that three teenagers lived there. (It was, of course, slightly less surprising when it was noted that one of these teenagers was a giant robot, one was already a businesswoman, and one had grown up in an incredibly clean environment.)

At the moment, however, said room was currently rather less clean, instead covered in various colorful signs, streamers, balloons, and other such decorations. After all, today was a very special day.

When Shadow and Rouge had discovered they shared a birthday (or creation day for Shadow, technically), they both became infinitely more determined to celebrate it for the other’s sake. This had actually, interestingly enough, also ended up making them enjoy their own festivities more than they had in quite some time.

Omega, meanwhile, had officially decided that this was his favorite day of the year.

Over the past few days, Rouge had already received a few presents from various people she knew in the line of clothes, makeup, or jewelry- but as much as she loved gems, her favorites so far were definitely the ones Omega and Shadow had gotten for her: a laser cutter that could slice through anything and a pair of (stylish) infrared goggles, respectively.

Shadow had just opened his present from Omega, which happened to be a sword that looked very cool...but was also longer than his actual body. This wasn’t actually as big of a problem for him as might be expected, as he’d gotten used to handling weapons several times his size during the alien invasion a little while back.

He had, however, been told rather quickly by Rouge to put it away ‘before you slice the wall in half, this place does cost money, you know!’.

Next, Rouge placed her present in his hands, but at first all Shadow could do was just stare at it. This was likely because the gift wasn’t actually wrapped, but instead consisted of a box made of wood slats and filled, oddly enough, with paper shavings. There were quite a few ribbons on it, though, in an attempt to make up for the lack of other decorations.

“I couldn’t wrap it, or else the present wouldn’t have worked.” she explained, sitting back down to watch him open it.

After prying off the top and shifting aside some of the paper pieces, the hedgehog froze.

Inside, there sat a single white chao egg.

Carefully lifting the egg out of the box, Shadow held it gingerly, as though he were afraid it might try to bite him if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“Rouge…” he began nervously. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate this, but...are you sure I’m the best person to be taking care of a chao?”

“Of course, hon!” she said. “You’ve taken care of them before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but…” Shadow protested, “...are you sure I’ll be able to do as well at home? The garden is their natural habitat…”

Omega folded his arms. “YOU ARE THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM. OF COURSE YOU CAN RAISE A CHAO.”

“That’s right!” Rouge added. “The chao are always happy when you take care of them- this time isn’t going to be any different.”

“…I suppose so.” Shadow conceded, taking a deep breath. He began to rock the egg slowly from side to side. “Here we go-”

A crack appeared across the pristine white surface. The split spread rapidly while Shadow sat and watched, making sure not to move the egg about much. Chao had to hatch their eggs on their own- it was the way they first began to strengthen themselves.

Rouge laughed. “See? You know exactly what you’re doing!”

Shadow studiously ignored her and continued to focus on the egg. Then, suddenly, a chirp came from inside and the whole top half came flying off.

The hybrid looked at his newborn chao...and his heart (though he’d never admit it) immediately melted. Soft, big eyes gazed up at him, an overjoyed smile on the creature’s face. It cooed happily upon seeing him give a small smile back, and he reached out and began to gently pat its head.

The chao broke into an even wider smile as its eyes closed blissfully, the little sphere above its head popping into a heart. Shadow continued to pet it, offering gentle words of praise, and might have continued like that for the next ten minutes had a camera noise from Omega not made him look up in alarm.

“ADDING IMAGE TO FILE: SHADOW BEING SOFT.” he declared, while Rouge looked on with a giant grin.

“You will do nothing of the sort-” Shadow growled, jumping to his feet, before a soft whimper from his chao stopped him. Its eyes were watery, wide and distressed, and the hybrid immediately scooped it up in his arms, holding it close. It relaxed quickly, snuggling into his chest fluff, and he shot Omega one last semi-serious glower before turning his attention back to the newborn.

Omega promptly took another picture.

…

Later that day, at the party that all of their friends had thrown for them, the chao and Shadow were nearly inseparable. It tended to rest in his lap when he was sitting or rode in between his ears whenever he stood up to get something. Eventually, though, the excitement of a new environment overwhelmed its initial nervousness, which unfortunately led to Shadow returning from the dining room with his hands full of plates of food to discover his chao crawling along the precarious edge of a bookshelf.

Suddenly, the chao’s footing slipped, and Shadow froze, unable to move or do anything- but then Sonic of all people noticed and was already there, leaping up and catching the chao before resting it snugly in his arms. “Looks like someone’s already progressed to the giving-their-owner-a-heart-attack stage, hm?” he asked, smirking at the little creature.

“Thank you.” Shadow said as his chao was returned to him, trying very hard to ignore the way his hands and Sonic’s brushed in the process.

(He’d been nursing a bit of a crush on the hero for a while now, but had decided to ignore it until it wore off. Sonic had admirers from all across the globe vying for his attention- it was absurd to think that anything could happen between them.)

…

Over the coming weeks, all three members of Team Dark made sure to rework their schedules so that someone was always home to watch over the chao- no more climbing on bookcases for the little one now. Shadow did most of the caretaking, feeding, training, cleaning, and providing Chaos Drives (mostly green) to the chao. Rouge did, however, occasionally claim she could ‘handle the extra work’ to give him some spare time and Omega even took it upon himself to watch it every so often.

Sometimes, Shadow and his chao would even cook together in the kitchen (a hobby he’d discovered he enjoyed after finding out that Rouge tended to eat takeout all the time- “You can’t live off that day in and day out- you’re not me, Rouge!”). The sight of a tiny pale blue creature determinedly lifting a bag of flour and flying it across the room was awfully cute- especially after Shadow bought it a tiny apron in what he unconvincingly claimed was an accidental purchase.

Shadow never made accidental purchases.

As much as the hybrid took care of it, though, the chao also seemed to be helping him. He smiled more, glowered less, and generally seemed more tolerant of mistakes than he had been in the past. Nowadays, errors that would once have caused him to go off on a rant or huff about were now met with a calmer ‘it’s okay’ or an offer for help fixing it.

He often laid a hand on it in his sleep or curled around it protectively, and could easily be seen patting its head, carrying it around, or even- when he thought he was alone- nuzzling it gently. The amount of time and care he put into making sure that his chao was happy would have been astonishing to anyone who hadn’t already seen how much he cared about his friends.

It was no surprise then that, before long, Rouge and Omega woke up one morning to find the chao inside a cocoon (and also a very stressed-out Shadow).

The hedgehog promptly called in sick for the entire week- an incredible occurrence for him. He’d originally sworn that since he couldn’t get ill, he’d give his sick days to others when they needed it, but now that was all out the window. He wanted nothing more than to stay home and essentially sit and stare at the cocoon until it hatched.

While the two other members of Team Dark managed to convince him to eat, sleep, and do chores on regular intervals, whenever Shadow had a spare moment he’d stay in his room, watching and waiting. Their friends got so worried that Rouge and Omega had used everything in their power to coax him out of the house twice over those five days, but he refused to do any more. Even then his outings had to come with the promise that they’d both stay home, check it every five minutes, and call him the absolute moment something happened.

On the sixth day of waiting, the cocoon began to hatch while Shadow was attempting to discreetly read out loud to the chao from one of his favorite books. The moment he saw the split, he dropped the novel, jumped up, and shouted louder than he had in months- “Rouge! Omega! It’s HAPPENING!”

He hovered so closely around the cocoon that Omega had to physically pull him back as Rouge reminded him to give the chao more space. Within moments, the split had widened enough for a single black paw to poke out, feeling around carefully for some sort of purchase to pull itself the rest of the way outside. Soon enough, it had succeeded, earning- impressively enough- widened eyes from Omega and a gasp from both Shadow and Rouge.

Frowning light blue eyes were set in an equally grumpy (albeit adorable) face, with two little black ears and three tiny quills on the chao’s head. The ears and quills both had red stripes, as did the arms, legs, and even its tail. A red crescent shape sat on its chest, and two tiny purple bat wings flapped slowly behind it.

In short, it looked a lot like a tiny Shadow.

The hedgehog in question reached out carefully and began to pet his chao, offering some quiet words of praise, but before long it flew up and settled in its favorite spot in between his ears. When Shadow turned around to face his friends, they were met with the sight of a little glowering creature settled on top of his head…which really did look far too similar to the hybrid himself when he was irritated.

Rouge covered a smile with both of her hands. “Shadow...hon…”

He frowned at her, only serving to make the resemblance more obvious. “What?”

“It looks exactly like you!”

“Not really- it has blue eyes and...bat wings…” He looked up at her suddenly. “Rouge...how much time have you been spending with Spark again?”

“Oh, just a little- wait, Spark?” she said quickly, redirecting his attention.

Shadow flushed a bright green at that. “I might’ve already picked out a name...does it sound alright?” he asked, studiously looking anywhere but at his friends.

The chao chirped at the name and snuggled a little further into the fur on his head, seemingly pleased with the title.

He began to smile at that. “You like that name, do you?” he asked teasingly.

“It sure looks like it! I think it’s a lovely name, hon.” Rouge added.

The chao cooed, cementing its name with all of the team (whether Omega would admit it or not).

Now, if anything, Shadow and his chao were even more close than before. Rouge even bought it a tiny leather jacket to match his style, which was quickly deemed by everyone (especially their friends, to whom she’d sent about fifty photos) the most adorable thing ever.

...

One day, Shadow came home from lunch out with Silver and Blaze only to discover a quite unexpected scene- though he really should have seen it coming, considering what he’d noticed after his chao had hatched. Rouge was kneeling next to the sofa, scratching Spark behind the ears and saying in what could only be described as a baby voice, “Who’s your favorite momma? Me, that’s right. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Uh….” he interrupted, feeling more than a little uncertain as to how to respond to this. He was torn between “I didn’t know you had a baby voice” and “I’m glad to see you and Spark getting along” and wasn’t entirely sure which one to go with here.

The bat, on the other hand, jumped a good three feet in the air at the sound before glaring at Shadow furiously. “Don’t startle me like that!” she shouted, more than a little tense...and also a bit worried?

The hybrid didn’t react, instead saying “It’s nice to see you spending time with Spark too, Rouge.” with a smile.

She relaxed a little at that, and Shadow sighed. “Rouge, I wouldn’t make fun of you- I do the same kind of thing, don’t I?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” the bat admitted. “I just had to! It looks like me- it even has my wings! How could I not?”

Shadow moved to sit down on the sofa at that, reaching out to pat the chao as well. Rouge smiled at him gratefully, and then they both looked down at the cute creature in between them, who was promptly staring up at both with a confused look on its face. After a moment, though, it seemed to realize that everything was alright and nuzzled both Mobians before curling up on the couch happily.

…

Another time, the entire team was out grocery shopping at their favorite store when Spark’s eye was caught by the soft, warm cinnamon buns sitting behind a glass case. After a minute or two of desperate pulling at the seams- to no avail- it flew over to Shadow and began to poke at his shoulder until he turned to look at it.

“Yes? What is it?” he asked, giving the chao a little scratch under the chin.

The chao pointed excitedly at the sweet treats, but its expression melted into one of dismay upon hearing him say “No, Spark, that’s not very good for you- and it’s too big for you to finish all by yourself, too.”

It mimed a clock insistently- they didn’t go to the store that often, after all- its frown deepening all the while. Shadow felt a little uncertain- he enjoyed giving the chao treats, but was now really the best time to feed it so much sugar? It could end up flying all over the place, and he really didn’t feel like getting banned from yet another grocery store. (The last one had been because Omega got a little too excited while messing around with the shopping cart and had melted it and twisted it into a knot...somehow. They were rapidly escorted out after that.)

Suddenly, though, the chao shuffled forward, took one of his fingers in between its tiny paws, and stared up at him with the softest, most pleading look it could possibly manage, its eyes wide and mouth quivering. “No...no, come on…” Shadow protested weakly, but already his resistance was melting away. It practically seemed to be saying haven’t I been good all week? Can’t I please just have this one treat? and the hybrid was in no condition to fight back.

Within moments, Spark was holding a cinnamon roll and dug into it with glee, only pausing once to nuzzle Shadow happily and offer him a quick bite as thanks. He accepted the gesture of appreciation easily (even though now his face had sugar on it after the chao’s affectionate thank-you) and was more than happy to see his chao smiling broadly with the treat in its hands.

…

The chao was, of course, still a great help to Shadow as well. One night in particular, it woke up to the sounds of quiet whimpering and began to look around, startled. For a moment, it turned to its caretaker for help- and then discovered that he was the one in trouble.

Shadow was curled up on his side, his brow creased in distress and his whole body shaking terribly. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and occasionally the most terribly saddening sounds would escape his mouth. Once or twice, a tear escaped and trickled down his face.

Spark crawled up to his face gently, licking away the tear and nuzzling his cheek. Shadow shuddered briefly, but seemed to relax almost infinitesimally when the dark chao pressed itself against his chest for a moment. Eventually, the creature managed to get him to roll onto his back, at which point it crawled onto his chest, hoping that this would help him begin to relax.

It really did work- within moments, the small, warm weight on his chest made Shadow’s breathing even out and his shivers ease as the nightmare that was plaguing him began to fade.

Spark curled up, pleased with itself, and fell back asleep not long after.

…

There was just one problem amongst all this newly-discovered happiness that came with the chao. Ever since it had evolved out of its cocoon, Omega seemed as though he were hardly willing to interact with it.

Rouge or Shadow would hand it over to him, only to get it back less than a minute later. He spent the least amount of time with it out of the three, but when he was asked if he didn’t like the chao, he never said as much.

Omega didn’t tend to lie...but then why wouldn’t he do anything with it?

Once or twice, they’d caught him merely staring at Spark as the little creature sat on the couch, his optics clicking but otherwise utterly silent. The two Mobians hardly knew what to make of it- he’d never acted like this before.

They finally had the opportunity to discover why he was behaving strangely several days later, though, entirely due to an accident on Shadow’s part. Rouge and Omega had been answering a distress call regarding some rogue G.U.N. robots and needed to call in the hybrid to help. He’d driven his motorbike directly to the scene and leapt straight into battle…

...and hadn’t noticed Spark peeking out of the bag he’d left on his bike.

The chao- while fast, to be sure- was in no way prepared for a full-on battle. While at first it had hoped to help its little family, flying about uncertainly in hopes of doing something, it quickly discovered that the only thing it could really do was to hide behind an upended concrete slab and hope it wasn’t noticed.

That, unfortunately, didn’t quite work out.

It didn’t take long before one of the rogue drones spotted a fourth heat signature aside from the three it was fighting and began to stalk towards it, charging its laser cannon in the process. Shadow, confused at first, felt his stomach drop in horror upon seeing his tiny chao shaking in fear as the machine advanced on its hiding spot. He hadn’t thought to bring a Chaos Emerald, believing this would be an easy battle- and Rouge was busy in the air.

The laser cannon on the drone was almost fully charged, and Shadow fired up his skates in a futile attempt to somehow reach Spark before-

A white hot blast lit up the area.

Shadow couldn’t have stopped the strangled cry that came from his mouth if he had wanted to. The smoke began to clear, and he almost couldn’t look…

Something stirred within the haze, and as it cleared away, Shadow felt his whole body sag with relief upon seeing Omega shifting to an upright position from where he’d shielded the chao with the back of his chassis, blocking the full force of the laser. He let out a sigh as he caught a glimpse of Spark held safely in Omega’s hand as the other one retracted to reveal a flamethrower.

“MY TURN.”

Within moments, the drone was just so much melted slag on the floor and the battle’s tide was turned. Shadow and Rouge dispatched the other robots and then rushed to Omega, who had held onto the chao this entire time.

“Omega...thank you.” Shadow said, taking Spark from his friend and holding it tightly.

“IT WAS- zzzt- NOTHING.” Omega said, a sudden staticky buzz splitting his sentence in two.

“Omega?” Rouge asked, her eyes narrowing. “What happened to you?”

“NOTHING.” he said hurriedly, his voice still glitching. “WAIT- DON’T YOU D-DARE-”

The three had already begun looking to see what had happened...but then froze when they saw the damage his back panel had taken while shielding Spark from the blast. A giant, smoking hole of warped and fused metal was burned into his chassis, revealing a bunch of melted and sparking wiring that definitely needed urgent attention.

“Omega��” Shadow looked horrified.

Rouge frowned, confused. “Why would you do this to yourself? I know how much you hate having to go get repairs.”

The robot let out a burst of static that sounded almost like a resigned sigh. Turning around, he muttered, “IT’S LI-LITERALLY YOU. AND ROUGE. BUT TINY. THAT APPEARS TO HAVE… STRANGE EFFECTS- zzzt- ON MY BEHAVIOR.”

“Do you...not like those effects?” Rouge asked, now clearly shifting into ‘I’m figuring things out’ mode. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding it so often?”

“I AM A ROBOT OF MASS DESTRUCTION. I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR TINY CREATURES SUCH AS THIS ONE. I SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY ‘WORRY’ ABOUT IT- AND YET-” Omega cut off there with a frustrated crackle.

Shadow still didn’t understand. “You’ve always been a robot of mass destruction, but you never thought it was weird to worry about us before.”

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!” Omega insisted. “YOU BOTH ARE POWERFUL. IT IS NATURAL THAT RESPECT AND CONSEQUENTLY OTHER THINGS SHOULD COME FROM THAT. BUT THIS-! IT HAS NO DESTRUCTIVE QUALITIES! BUT STILL I...YOU KNOW...”

“It’s official, Omega.” Rouge said at that, a smirk growing on her face. “You’re becoming more and more like us...organics are always weak for cute things.”

“IT IS SHAMEFUL THAT I SHOULD COME TO THIS.” he grumbled.

“It’s not so bad, really.” Shadow said, placing a hand on his arm.

“And that’s coming from the guy who never used to admit he cares about people!” Rouge insisted. “Omega, you know you don’t have to be embarrassed about that kind of thing here- you’d never make fun of Shadow for not being tough all the time, would you?”

“I GUESS NOT…” he said, still seeming irritated.

At this point, Spark flew up to sit in Omega’s hand, looking up at the robot with its little frowning face, before reaching out and patting a single finger solemnly with its paw.

“OH NO.”

“Oh yes.” Rouge answered, grinning. “Let’s get you to Tails now though, okay? Then once you’re fixed up you can come home and pet the chao.”

Omega turned his head away and refused to dignify that with a response.

(He did, however, pet the chao when he got home. Nobody teased him about it, for which- while he’d never say it- he was rather grateful.)

…

It was inevitable, eventually, that Team Dark’s schedule wouldn’t be perfect and that they’d all have to be out and busy at some point. This, of course, meant that Spark would have to be dropped off at the chao daycare.

Shadow had managed to force himself to reconcile with that fact, but the chao wasn’t nearly as good at that sort of thing.

On the day of, it was sobbing desperately, clinging to Shadow’s jacket with a tight grip as though it’d been handed a horrible punishment instead of a day spent at the warm, welcoming building in front of it. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll be okay, it’s just for a day. See, the Mobians who run it are very nice- won’t you look?” the hybrid whispered in a soothing voice, gently rubbing Spark’s head.

Omega stepped forward. “DON’T YOU...WANT TO SHOW HOW BRAVE YOU CAN BE?” he said awkwardly. Talking to the chao was still taking some getting used to for him, but he was definitely trying his best.

Rouge smiled warmly at that. “Of course! We’ll all be so proud of you, don’t you know that?”

“We can make a cake especially for you when you get home too, alright?” Shadow said, and that was the final thing the chao needed to hear. Wiping its eyes with a final few sniffles, it flew over to the little walkway towards the entrance and stood up tall, its body shaking slightly with leftover stress and its attempts not to cry.

“We love you!” Rouge called, blowing it a quick kiss.

“See you soon.” Shadow said gently, waving with a smile.

“YOU’LL BE THE BEST ONE THERE.” Omega added, shuffling in place a little.

The chao whimpered briefly, but then turned away and bounded into the daycare before it could lose its nerve.

Throughout the morning, it remained relatively antisocial- a bit like the hedgehog whose appearance it had taken- during the music and karate lessons. The other chao all babbled and played together, being mostly neutral and hero-types, and the few dark chao that were there wanted to cause an awful lot more trouble than Spark was in the mood for.

One thing that it noticed very clearly, though, was the extraordinarily frustrating presence of a royal blue hero and speed-type chao.

This chao didn’t seem to think even once (let alone twice) about anything it did. It banged on the drums until Spark’s ears were sore during music class and then somehow managed to smack it in the face during karate lessons twice, and all the while it chatted away with about five other chao all around it.

Needless to say, by midday, when it was playtime, Spark had just about had enough.

When the blue chao rushed directly through the little sand city that it had been carefully building, swiping everything away with a single dash, Spark growled, picked up the plastic shovel it had been playing with, and threw it so hard it whacked the other creature in the arm.

Snarling, it began to stomp off when it felt a hand on its shoulder. The blue chao darted away and began hurriedly to try and rebuild the city, occasionally glancing up at Spark with an apologetic expression in its eyes.

It...looked awfully sad, actually.

Suddenly, the dark chao remembered how it had quickly stopped banging on the drums when the teacher had told it to, and how it had looked rather guilty when it had smacked Spark in the face, and how excited it was when talking with the other chao…

Maybe it was just a little clumsy sometimes.

Spark sighed a little. The other meant well, it decided, as its anger began to fade. It appreciated the apology...but now the sculptures were gone and it couldn’t get them back. Then, though, its gaze fell upon a pair of toy cars sitting nearby.

Pulling the blue chao over to a strip of flat, packed earth nearby, it gave one car to its surprised companion and then set its own down at a line that could work quite well as the start of a race.

Soon enough, the other creature worked out the idea and began to cheer with delight, and before long they were racing cars like they’d been friends since the start. Eventually, they even switched to running races themselves, over and over again until they were all worn out and collapsed on the cool grass in a heap. Before long, though, they were up and at it again, only this time they started with a building game, and then had a little fun with the musical instruments, and soon enough Spark couldn’t help but wonder how they had ever fought in the first place.

Eventually, they decided that their next activity would be a race to the top of the jungle gym they noticed nearby. Spark was determined not to lose as it scrambled up the bars. It pulled itself paw over paw up the structure, getting closer and closer to the top, until-

Suddenly, a bar that it had been sure existed in front of it only a moment ago was now clearly just a little too far away, and the mistake caused it to reel forward, desperately clinging to the slippery bar it sat on. It twisted head over heels until it slid and fell all the way back to the ground, the wind slammed forcefully out of its little lungs.

Spark gasped soundlessly, trying and failing to pull air back into itself. After several agonizing seconds, it finally caught its breath- and then nearly got it knocked back out again by the impact of its new friend.

Regaining focus, the dark chao realized with a start that its friend was practically wailing into its chest, the soft blue creature shaking with desperate, panicked sobs. It looked up quickly, its eyes swollen and teary, and then reached out with its paws and hurriedly patted Spark’s body down, as though to reassure itself that the dark chao was still there.

The creature in question sat up and pulled its friend into a tight hug, feeling nothing less than awful as the blue chao sniffled and whimpered worriedly in its arms. Eventually, it managed to calm down enough to amble over to a small nest made of blankets especially for tired chao and lay down there next to Spark. The two chao curled up together, nuzzling gently as the shaky breaths of the blue one finally evened out.

Spark felt the little ball over its head pop into a heart shape, and noticed briefly that its friend had done the same. They remained curled up like that for the last half-hour or so of their time in the daycare, alternately simply cuddling or talking about their respective owners.

Spark hoped they’d get to spend more time with this friend of theirs soon.

…

Shadow pulled up to the daycare on his motorcycle at closing time, doing his best to smooth out his frazzled quills. It wouldn’t be very good to let his chao know that he’d been nearly as worried about it as it had felt itself.

He sighed, making his way towards the entrance of the building- and instantly felt the last wisps of his composure vanish upon seeing Sonic standing just inside. Before he could panic and flee the area at top speed, his legs (which didn’t seem to have received the message just yet) carried him through the door and inside.

Almost immediately, the blue hedgehog turned to face him with a bright smile. “Oh! Hey, Shadow!” Sonic said happily. “I didn’t know you brought your chao here, too! I’ve gotta say hi to the little guy again sometime!”

“This is my first time bringing it here. If it’s alright with that…I suppose you may.” the hybrid said, trying his best to sound coherent and cool (but actually just seeming stiff and awkward).

They talked for a little while as they waited for their chao to come out, chatting about their lives and friends. More than once, Shadow had to pinch himself in order to stay focused. His mind kept threatening to wander off into dreamland when he was around the hero, ready to admire his many great qualities (and wonderful appearance) at the drop of a hat.

Eventually, though, he became a bit worried by the fact that chao after chao were wandering out through the playroom door, being collected, and leaving…but neither Spark nor Sonic’s chao had even showed up. Soon enough, the two decided to walk into the room and find their tiny charges themselves.

“Uh, hi, mixter!” Sonic greeted the leopard who ran the daycare. “Didja see my lil’ buddy somewhere around here?”

“Oh, hello Sonic!” they said brightly- clearly the hero had been to this place quite a few times before. “Yes, your chao is over there in that nest there, sorry. I just hated to disturb those two…”

Shadow frowned. Those two?

His question was promptly answered when Sonic whisked aside the blanket covering the nest, only for both of them to stare at the sight inside.

Two purring chao, one clearly Sonic’s and the other obviously Shadow’s, were snuggled up together with big hearts floating over their heads. Even the hybrid’s dark chao, notorious for its ever-present frown, looked completely at peace with a small smile on its face.

He tried his best not to freak out.

“Erm…” Shadow began eloquently.

“Uh…” Sonic replied.

The two chao perked up at this, looking happily at their owners before nuzzling gently together in a manner that made Shadow’s stomach leap into his throat and then crash straight through the floor. In a further twist (both in events and in the striped hedgehog’s internal organs), Sonic’s chao then leapt happily into his arms, leaving Shadow to stare at the tiny version of his crush cuddling into his chest fur.

He sincerely hoped there was a convenient couch nearby for him to sit down on.

“Blu- come on-” Sonic began, looking oddly panicked for some reason, but then Spark sprang eagerly onto his shoulder and the hero rapidly fell silent as the dark chao nudged his cheek.

The two hedgehogs stared at each other for a long time. Shadow tried to move or do something other than just stand there, but it was awfully difficult when the hero was looking at him with those wide, soft green eyes….

“Er…Sonic?” Shadow finally choked out, in an odd, strained sort of tone.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’d like my chao back now.”

“Yeah.”

They each handed over their respective creatures, though Shadow felt rather reluctant to let such a tiny version of Sonic out of his arms. And for a moment he could almost have sworn that the hero held Spark a little longer than necessary, too…

…

Once he got home, the hybrid collapsed onto the couch and covered his eyes briefly with a hand. Spark, who had at first rushed into the kitchen (not having forgotten the promise of cake), came back and began to tug on his arm briefly before realizing that maybe Shadow wasn’t quite up to doing much of anything at the moment.

Rouge and Omega walked in just a moment later, their work having ended a little after Shadow’s. Upon seeing him slumped on the furniture, though, their greetings were cut short and instead replaced by worried questions.

Shadow sighed. “Spark...just spent a bunch of time cuddling with Sonic’s chao. And he noticed.”

“And that’s a good thing, hon.” Rouge shot back, having resisted a facepalm the moment she realized what all this was about.

“It is not!” the hedgehog cried out, before realizing that Spark was more than a little stressed by his tone of voice. “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry, it’s just...I already make enough of a fool of myself around him on my own. He’ll figure it out soon enough if we keep this up.”

“SO LET HIM.” Omega said. “EITHER HE STARTS DATING YOU OR HE’S AN IDIOT.”

Shadow blushed furiously. “It doesn’t work like that!”

“EXCEPT WHEN IT DOES.”

“Why don’t you tell him, hon?” Rouge asked. “I mean…” and here she developed a devious smile, “...didn’t his chao technically also act all affectionate with yours?”

The hybrid’s ears were bright green by now. “He’s nice to everyone, Rouge.”

At this point, Spark- who had left temporarily to get a pencil and paper- held up a drawing it had made of the scene at the jungle gym earlier. Shadow, of course, immediately began fussing over his chao, checking for any bruises or scrapes, but the bat in particular saw something entirely different.

“Kinda...reminds me of what happened on Space Colony ARK.” she mused.

Shadow’s head shot up at that. “What?”

Rouge smirked, but it was bittersweet this time. “Your fall...it really hurt him too, y’know? He didn’t go out in public for a long time after that.”

“He...he never mentioned that to me…”

“He wouldn’t have!” she said. “Sonic isn’t the type to ‘bother’ others with his feelings.” Rouge explained, doing air quotes at one point.

“HE ALSO STARES AT YOU WHEN YOU ARE NOT LOOKING.”

“He what?!” By now Shadow had been reduced to just looking back and forth between his two friends.

Spark flew in front of Shadow’s face and began to mime something. First pointing at Shadow, then a heart, then talking, then a hedgehog with all its quills pointed down…

“No! I can’t just tell him!”

“We’re hanging out with his team next week at the park- you should do it then.” Rouge replied, ignoring the last thing he’d just said.

“Did you not hear me, I can’t-”

“YOU WILL NEED SOMETHING NICE TO WEAR.” Omega said loudly over the rest of his sentence.

Spark cheered approvingly.

“So...you three have just decided for me whether or not I’m going to confess to Sonic.” Shadow sighed, beginning to resign himself to the fact.

“Absolutely, hon!” Rouge said brightly, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

He glowered at all three of them, but it lacked any real malice. “Alright, I’ll play along...for now.” he grumbled.

“EXCELLENT. LET THE PLANNING COMMENCE.”

…

One week later, Shadow was standing in the middle of a patch of grass, feeling like his knees were about to buckle as sweat trickled through his quills. He was no longer resigned to telling Sonic about his feelings and was in fact considering jumping into the nearby lake and hiding there for the duration of the hangout. His stomach- along with whatever scraps of resolve he may have had- were currently all the way back at their house.

On top of all that, he was frankly surprised he didn’t just spontaneously burst into flames when the other three Mobians showed up, Sonic in the lead.

“Hey guys!” he said excitedly. “Long time no see!”

Rouge snickered a bit at his catchphrase (it was one of many) but Shadow just felt his ears burn. He was just so cute and cheesy and already the hybrid’s mind was devolving into a mushy mess.

“Rouge, Omega.” he greeted them each, but he seemed to pause for a second on the last name. “...Shadow.”

The hedgehog in question thankfully managed a reply, and then the fun began in earnest. Knuckles and Shadow competed in several arm-wrestling matches with narration from Tails (“...aaaand Knuckles looks like he’s in the lead!”) and commentary from Omega (“YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T ARM-WRESTLE OR ELSE BOTH OF YOUR ARMS WOULD BE BROKEN.”). Rouge and Sonic were busy pranking other innocent people, though once in a while the latter would look over at the competition, distracted.

Eventually, Tails and Omega got bored- which of course meant Knuckles and Shadow had to play the role of caretaker (“No, you can’t blow up trees. No, not even for ‘science’.”) for a little while.

At one point, though, Rouge got bored with the pranks and had dragged the echidna off to a park bench and was now flirting with him enough to turn his face as red as his spines. Tails had promised to behave- which now meant that he was halfheartedly attempting to convince Omega not to modify his cannon to launch ducks from the nearby pond- leaving Sonic and Shadow to themselves. Blu and Spark had been playing in the grass all this time (since both of them had brought their chao without really realizing that the other would do the same), and Shadow had very definitely not been thinking about how lucky his chao was that emotions were easy for it.

He remembered the talk his friends had given him before this outing then and wondered if maybe, just maybe, it could be that easy. Before he could stop himself, he’d already spoken.

“...Sonic?”

“Yeah?” the hero asked, turning to face Shadow.

“I...wanted to talk to you about something.” he said, regretting everything already because look how stupid he was about to seem...yet Shadow Robotnik the Hedgehog had never been one to do things by halves.

“Oh, really?” Sonic said, and now he almost looked relieved, for some reason. “I, uh, was actually hoping to do the same. That’s cool, what is it?”

“No, no, you go first.” Shadow urged him, hoping that he’d take the offer.

Unfortunately, today was not his lucky day. “No, man, you asked first! Go ahead, what was it?”

“Really- it’s fine.”

“No, you had something you wanted to say!” Sonic insisted.

“It’s okay, I swear-”

“Well, I guess-”

“I mean, if you want-”

“Okay-”

“You see-”

“I like you!”

Both hedgehogs shouted the words at the exact same time, before freezing and staring at each other.

“Wait…” Shadow began.

Sonic’s eyes were wide. “You like me back?!?” he gasped, hands flying up to his mouth.

“...yes.” he admitted, looking off to the side in embarrassment. Then it hit him. “Wait. You like me back?”

“Of course! How could I not?” Sonic asked incredulously. “You’re smart, funny, nice-” He’d begun listing off attributes while counting on his fingers, but cut himself off upon noticing Shadow’s confusion.

“Yes, but you’re a hero. The world’s hero.” Shadow began to frown, staring at the grass. “Why would you settle for someone like-”

“No.” Sonic growled, and the hybrid looked up suddenly to see his face twisted in anger. “Don’t ever say that.”

“But everyone thinks it…” Shadow protested weakly.

“Yeah, well, ‘everyone’ isn’t part of my love life.” Sonic assumed a slightly less aggressive stance, placing a hand on his hip. “Whoever’s been telling you that can either leave you alone or get their face introduced to my sneakers.”

Shadow blushed. “Nobody needed to. I just assumed...but perhaps I shouldn’t have.” he added quickly, seeing the hero begin to glower again.

“That’s right!” he said, zipping over to stand directly in front of Shadow. “No assumptions here- talk to me from now on if something’s worryin’ you, ‘kay?”

Then, he seemed to notice the sudden stiffness in the hybrid’s posture, as well as the green flush slowly creeping up his ears. Sonic leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on Shadow’s shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something?”

Shadow gulped.

For once, he decided that he could do what he wanted. So, he slowly reached up a hand and touched the peach fur on Sonic’s arm gently, like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Rather more quickly, Sonic turned a shade of bright red to rival Omega’s paint job.

“So, uh…” he began, his voice shaky. “Erm...do ya feel like sitting under that tree? Together?”

Shadow agreed, and the two walked over to the shady patch, sitting down and resting against each other. Soon enough, though, Sonic turned to face Shadow, a little nervous. “Do we, like, need to talk about this? Figure out...what to do about…us?” He started turning pink again.

“Maybe later. We have a lot of time, after all.” Shadow said, trying to contain the soaring feeling inside when Sonic said ‘us’- until he realized that he didn’t have to any longer.

“What’re you smiling about?”

“You. And me. Together.” Shadow said simply, making Sonic laugh and snuggle up against him, resting his head on a black-furred shoulder.

“Wow. That’s, uh….that’s new. I really like it though.”

Then, the hero looked up at him. “I really like you, too.”

At this point, a loud whistle could be heard from Rouge, who was standing not too far off and had likely heard a lot of what they’d said. Sonic just giggled, while Shadow shot her a death glare. She just winked and mouthed I’ll keep them occupied, at which point the hybrid tried not to show how very much he appreciated that and failed miserably.

And Sonic was purring now. Which of course meant that every single brain cell in Shadow’s head was promptly dead for the next five minutes.

After he’d recovered from that, Shadow wrapped his arms tightly around his...boyfriend? Maybe? He thought for a moment. “Hey, Sonic?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about being my-” Shadow paused briefly to cough, trying to get the words out- “-boyfriend?”

“I think I like that a lot.”

Shadow smiled warmly, feeling the beginnings of a purr rise up in his own chest.

“I like that a lot, too. Almost as much as I like you.”

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic the hedgehog #happy birthday shadow and rouge!!#these two are the best #i swear i panicked when i realized that their birthday was today and not the 21st haha #me: has never actually fully raised a chao in-game #also me: *throws in made-up chao facts like i know what i'm talking about*#also all names for shadow's chao are valid this is just the one that i personally picked #hopefully everyone enjoyed being blasted by 7500 words of fluff :)#(and hurt/comfort of course)#i liked writing the part where it was like #blu and spark: *speedrun enemies to friends*#sonic and shadow: *PANIC*#just checking: is the term 'mixter' alright for a lengthened version of 'mx.'? i've seen it before but don't know for sure #this is my second attempt writing proper sonadow hopefully it was alright #:D #as always suggestions for how to improve my writing are more than appreciated!#sol's fanfiction

160 notes · View notes

one-time-i-dreamt · 3 years

Text

I remember I was at a circular lake, in a forest. How I got there is getting away from me, but I know I was with some people. I don't think I knew them very well, but there was a guy I recognized that looked sorta like Hunk from Voltron (and he was a hunk!). I had a feeling that he liked me in an admiration sort of way.

But we weren’t there for that, the group was interested in studying me. I had some kind of power they were interested in. We came to this lake to try them out. Hunk was a sort of data analyst, so he was coordinating a lot of it. As we went through tests, at a certain point I figured out how to time travel using ionization radiation. I’m not sure where we got this idea but after I had managed to travel a couple of times I saw a diorama like thing explaining the process.

It said I absorbed radiation and my electrons would leave my body? I would get a positive charge as a result and could zap to the past, so to speak. When I did this I would appear red to others because of speed, I think. It’s like that one physics thing. Or maybe it was because I was gaining back electrons. Anyway, the details are fuzzy, but I wouldn't stay red for long.

I don't remember how I traveled my first few times, but I do remember that my first time was an accident. I had managed even to bring along a friend from the lake too. We were both like ???? Did we just time travel??? We were able to go back without a problem and the hunk guy had started typing on him laptop about the discoveries as soon as we appeared again. (He also included some notes about me like cutie and stuff which I tried to backspace with my mind but I couldn't because telekinesis was not one of my powers.)

I expressed my frustration out loud and said, "I can time travel but I wish I had telekinesis so I can press your back-sass button,” or something similar. I’m kinda shy so the thought of someone liking me was too much, even in dream form. Although I think after I said this everyone was like, “Why don't you try again?” They tried to have me lift up an object (maybe a box?) but I couldn't and I said I would just go back in time again, so we could study that a bit more. Plus I was still embarrassed about the cutie thing so I tried again for the third time.

The way I traveled was a little weird this time, though. I saw these cards, completely black and covering my field of view. Then I saw a huge number and the word sommelier written under it for some reason. The number would count down but at strange intervals, I believe it started at the current year. It was only five flashes before I got to 1024 and that’s when I stopped my travel. I suddenly saw a lake and lots of vegetation.

As I was wondering the significance of this year was, I suddenly saw an aerial view to show it was the circular lake lake again and the surrounding forest. I walked along the lake’s edge and found some nets. They were coving grape like berries in the water. I think I made one fall into the lake by mistake somehow but I pulled another in and got a net full of berries. The were pre-arranged into different colors in the net and for some reason I dragged them along the shore going towards the forest; the lake was to my left.

I got to a clearing and found a couple, they were parents. The mother had her back turned and the father was facing towards me, holding a very freckled baby. I asked, “What's wrong with that baby?” because I thought there was something wrong with it, I had a feeling, and the mother turned around revealing a very beautiful, freckled face as well.

She had black hair and dark almond eyes. I didn’t move when I saw her and wasn’t sure what to do. I had no thoughts other than that she was very beautiful and had the sense I was intruding on something important. She greeted me with, “Hello (my name),” as kids from her village took the berries I had. Though I didn’t see it, I had a feeling that somewhere to the left there was a village filled with her people living there peacefully. I just hadn't turned my head to see it. I kept eye contact with her as the berries were taken from me. I asked how she knew my name and if this really was the year 1024 she said it was and smiled.

#dreams #dream #submission #time travel #crush #long post #lake #water

277 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 12 - ao3 -

The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.

Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.

At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.

It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.

But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.

It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…

“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”

Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.

“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”

“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”

Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.

“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”

His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”

“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”

His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.

“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”

“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?

“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”

Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.

“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”

He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.

It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.

“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”

“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”

“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“No, I did pick –”

“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”

Lan Qiren fell silent.

“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”

Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”

“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”

Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”

He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.

It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.

“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”

What a strange way to calculate time.

It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –

Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”

“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”

Lan Qiren hesitated.

“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”

His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.

“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”

Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”

“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”

“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”

“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”

“What?”

“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”

“What part?”

His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”

“Mm. I suppose they do.”

“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”

“The – terms?”

“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”

Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.

Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

119 notes · View notes

soliavenne · 4 years

Text

Between Naked Souls - 1 (Gaara x Reader R-18 Fanfiction)

Hiii, everyone! :) <3 This long fic had been my baby since early September. It took really long, but I think a part of me is in agreement that this story really needed that amount time to develop, and I'm really proud and happy of what it has resulted to. This work really means the world to me. It had exhausted me beyond measure but I have really fallen in love with it.

Warning: NSFW work ahead.

Word count: 26.6k (I know, self-control is not my best suit.)

I hope you enjoy! <3

Cover art by yours truly.

---

Gaara jolted awake with a choked gasp; the clawing sensation down his now hoarse throat as the strain caused by unintelligible growls for help that has been leaving his mouth for the past twenty minutes began to catch up with his dawning consciousness. He propped his elbows behind his back, his chest heaving up and down heavily as he tried to chase his breath. He continued to shift backwards until he felt the headboard press against his back in support to his weakening composure. Gaara brushed his forearms across his forehead, making him wince when he raked his fingers down his now, sweat-dampened hair. He really wasn’t able to conjure images just yet as his eyes were still adjusting to the almost pitch black darkness of his room, so he gasped in shock when he felt something touch the back of his hand, with his head automatically shooting towards the direction in which the surprising gesture came from.

“Hey…” Your voice croaked, followed by a yawn as you rubbed your knuckles against your eyes. “Gaara? Are you awake?” You slowly sat up, swinging your body towards the side of the bed to reach for the lamp above the nightstand. After turning it on, you returned your attention towards Gaara, whose chest was still heaving up and down, with his face angled towards the ceiling; eyes glued shut, skin pale and sweaty. Your blood ran cold out of panic, as his current state was unraveled to you. You quickly grabbed a fist of the blanket before throwing it out towards the floor to give him some air. The amount of concerned queries that rambled down your mouth without any sense of halting any time soon was cut short when Gaara placed his hand above yours, giving it a firm squeeze to snap you out of your agitated daze.

“Y/N,” Gaara breathed out as he was still trying to stabilize his panting. “there’s nothing to worry about...”

You leaned over towards Gaara, your knees pressed down against the mattress. You reached out for him and placed a palm against his forehead. “What do you feel, Gaara? Do you feel sick?”

“No,” Gaara let out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms against his stomach; palms sluggishly rubbing up and down his arms in hopes of calming the chills enveloping his body. “it’s just… another nightmare.”

Your eyes went soft at what you heard, and over the very sight that that was happening before you. He only had little to no time that was reserved so that he could take a proper rest, yet even that was being robbed away from him. You couldn’t help it, your stomach continued to drop in a bottomless pit of pity, as it felt like you could almost sense every fiber of fatigue and exhaustion from your lover.

Gaara doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Tsk,” Gaara groaned, as his head started to throb in pain. He pressed the pads of his index and middle finger against his opposite temples, massaging it in circles to alleviate the pulsing pain. “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to wake you up like that… I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Hey…” Your voice softened at him, as you reached out for the side of his face so that you could redirect it towards yours. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” You stroked his cheek as you smiled reassuringly before him. “None of this is your fault, Gaara.”

Another worn out sigh ripped from his chest. Gaara held your hand that was placed against his cheek, caressing it with his thumb before leaning his lips towards your palm to kiss it gently. “I will be alright, Y/N. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

“Well, that’s too bad… I’m kinda’ bound to be always concerned about you no matter what.” You chuckled at him, eliciting a small smile from your lover in return. You ran your fingers through his locks, a little surprised when you felt how soaking wet it was. “You’re so sweaty right now, Gaara. Let me grab some towel and water, alright?”

There was a sight of a slight pout on Gaara’s lips, his gaze anywhere but in direct contact with yours. “Stay…”

Your hand on his cheek travelled down his shoulder, and down on his hand, giving it a soft squeeze to ease him down a bit. “But you might suffer from colds if I let you go back to sleep like that, Gaara.” He seemed like he was about to speak another word, but he nodded in agreement after a minute of silence. You stood up from the bed, opening the closet and rummaging through his clothes before grabbing another pair sleeping garments for your lover; placing it on top of the mattress. Prior to walking straight towards the door, you went towards Gaara, who was now watching you from his side of the bed. You ushered his face closer towards yours by both sides of his jaw, before pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“Promise?” Gaara mumbled, his soft voice feeling like he was tugging on your heartstrings.

“Yes, Gaara. I promise.” You smiled at him once again. “I will be back.”

The subtle sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the corridor as you walked towards the kitchen. Despite how dim it was, you somehow knew exactly where to walk through to get towards the switch; as it finally seems like you have already memorized the layout of Gaara’s house over the course of time you have spent inside it.

Gaara was indeed a busy man, he was the Kazekage of the village after all. He rarely comes home, as he never really found any reason to stay inside his house all by himself when he could just be doing paperwork instead inside his office. It did change, though, when the two of you had started dating one another. After a year of being together, Gaara finally invited you over to his house, and you swore that the whole vibe that it radiated off was as if his house was recently furnished, and was finally in commercial to be sold. It was spotlessly-clean, from up the ceiling, down the floor; a little monotonous and plain if you were to be honest; not entirely homey, as expected from someone who doesn’t really live much inside his own home; a decision with a much more deeper reason that you have just been recently informed of when Gaara offered you to stay with him for the meantime while you were looking for a new apartment to move in.

When you started living with Gaara, he offered you the luxury of having his bedroom to yourself, which something you disagreed wholeheartedly with. There was no way you were going to let him sleep on the couch when the two of you could fit snugly on top of his bed. The only thing that made you agreed to his proposition was when he said that he wasn’t ready to share a bed just yet; so as much as you wanted to tell him it was more than okay for you to sleep beside one another, the last thing you wanted was to put pressure on him.

It was when you woke up in the middle of the night to drink water, when you found him sitting alone in the couch in a sleepy daze, his elbows pressed on top of his thighs with his face buried into his hand. His hair was disheveled, and his breathing was labored. When you sat beside him, asking him what was wrong, the frustration and weariness in his voice was evident.

“I had a nightmare…”

According to Gaara, it seemed like he had started suffering from recurring nightmares a year after the Fourth Great Ninja War, confessing to you how he had been coping about it ever since. Gaara said that he tries to take short naps throughout the day in order to make up for little to no sleep that he gets at night. He tries to steer himself away from sleeping at the comfort of his home, because when the exhaustion catches up to him, he ends up losing control over the state of sleep, making him susceptible to another yet episode of a nightmare.

The next morning, you almost pleaded to Gaara to finally sleep beside you.

“Please, Gaara. If you were in my place, you know it yourself that you would do everything you can just so you could take care of me. We should always take care of each other no matter what.”

It honestly took a lot of convincing before you got Gaara to agree with you. He kept telling you that he didn’t want to disturb what should be a night of peaceful sleep for you, but you knew it yourself that having him beside you would not be the reason of you losing sleep, but the fact that you would always be worried sick about him. Who was he kidding? How could you even get an ounce of sleep now after knowing what he goes through at night? As much was you wanted him to give him the autonomy over his decisions, this wasn’t any matter that should be dealt alone with, and Gaara knows that himself. If you were to be the one in his place, he wouldn’t sit still about it as well.

After a minute of letting the kettle’s whistle tear through the quiet of the night, you wrapped a rug on the plastic handle before taking it off the flame. You leaned downwards to grab a small basin from the cabinet, filling half of it with cold water under the faucet before turning it off. You poured the hot water in intervals, feeling the water with your other hand now and then as you tried to bring it up to a proper temperature; the steam coming off of it feeling rather nice against your cold cheeks. You placed two bath towels over your shoulder, and just before you were about to lift the basin from the sink, you felt someone shift behind your back.

It was Gaara.

You felt his hands travel from your waist, towards on top of your stomach as he pulled you in for a backhug. “Let me carry that.” Gaara whispered into your ear before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You should be resting on the bed,” You mumbled, your voice laced with just a tiny bit of scolding. “I’m supposed to be the caretaker here, Gaara.”

Gaara smiled against your face, as he continued to plant gentle kisses upon your skin. “I will always take care of you… as much as you take care of me, even if I’m incapacitated to do so. We’ll always take of each other no matter what; that’s what you said, right?”

Your chest tightened with what you just heard, feeling a soft brush of warmth across your now probably flushed cheeks. Before you knew it, Gaara was already walking back towards the bathroom with the basin at hand, leaving you a flustered mess in the kitchen.

The windows were now opened, and the moonlight bathed the bedroom in a gentle, luminous glow. Gaara sat still on the edge of the bed that was facing the window, eyes trained on the side as you stood before him. The basin was on your right side, sitting above a wooden stool, with the bath towel now soaking the warm water inside it.

“Uhm… Would you rather have me take off your clothes, or you want to do it by yourself?”

After turning on the night lamp, you saw a clearer glimpse of Gaara’s face, which was currently laced with concern. After a minute or two of wondering why, that was when you realized what he had been thinking about ever since he sat on the bed.

“You have nothing to worry about, Gaara. I don’t mind… seeing you with your clothes off.”

Gaara’s chest tightened, as his face started to get as red as his hair. He pursed his lips subtly out of embarrassment, before pulling his dampened shirt over his head, folding it neatly above his lap before placing it down the floor. Gaara stood up from the bed, before pulling his pajamas down until it pooled down his feet. You redirected your gaze towards the walls behind your lover, your lips in a slight pout as you tried to release a subtle, drawn out sigh to ease your jittering nerves.

“I’m… I’m done.” Gaara murmured, his palms pressed down against the mattress on both sides of his body, as he was now left wearing nothing but black, cotton boxers, a messy hair, and a blushing face.

You smiled nervously at him before taking a sit beside him, the mattress sinking down a little in response to the movement. You reached for the bath towel lying on the bottom of the basin, and with both hands, you squeezed the excess water out, dipping it up and down as you continued to drain it just until it was damp enough to cleanse his body off of the stickiness of his sweat. Gaara rotated himself to face you directly, so that you could have a better access to his body. You grabbed him softly by his wrist, starting by his hands. You gently rubbed both of his palms, before cleaning in between of his fingers. “Your hands are rather pretty, don’t you think? They’re so soft… and slender.”

“I never took notice of that,” Gaara mumbled in between of trying his best to meet your gaze, but failing nevertheless halfway through it. “but, uhm… thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back at him while you were rubbing the towel from his wrist towards his arm in firm, upwards strokes, doing the same thing with the other one before returning the towel into the basin, allowing it to soak up water for a minute or two before wringing it out once again, the sound of water dripping down the basin sounding rather relaxing as it consorted the quietness of the night perfectly.

“Uchiha… Sasuke, huh?” You asked curiously, as you were now rubbing the towel on top of his left shoulder, gazing intrigued at the huge scar just a few inches below the tail of his collarbone. There was an odd, circular looking-shape at the center, its edges jagged; seemingly appearing to be the epicenter of the attack. It seemed to branch out in different directions, some of it being three to four inches in length, finalized by extensions of smaller, thinner limbs of scar. The color of it was in between oleander and umber, rather a little glossy in appearance considering how old it was.

“Hmm…” Gaara sighed with a slight, amused smile on his face; remembering that he once considered his scar as a memento of the very day he met his first friend; Uzumaki, Naruto.

“What do you think about it?”

“…About what?”

“Your scar.”

You were now scrubbing the damp cloth against his chest, and you couldn’t help but get a little nervous.

Gaara wasn’t overly buff, his muscles were rather lean and well-defined. It wasn’t the type to put an exaggerated strain on the fabric of his clothes, as Gaara himself also opts for a looser approach of garments; so you were rendered surprised when you saw how toned his upper muscles actually were; specifically his shoulders and his arms, which may have probably been a result of the years he had spent carrying that heavy, large gourd on his back.

He really was… beautiful.

Gaara has been noticing how lingering your stare was over his body for the past few minutes, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him self-conscious. He tries to diffuse his embarrassment by answering your questions in return. “Well… it does bear some emotional significance to me, since during that day, a lot of what took in place changed my life forever.”

You nodded back at Gaara, knowing exactly what he was talking about since this wasn’t really the first time he told you about what happened during the final round of the chunin exams.

“Appearance-wise…” Gaara sighed in thought, “I guess I myself don’t really mind it that much, but…” Gaara trailed off, as he was now trying to avert his gaze away from you once again. You didn’t want to inquire further, even though the curiosity was killing you. If there’s anything that Gaara solidified in you, that was improving your ever short-lived patience. You smiled at him before dropping the towel once again, squeezing the water out as you hummed.

“Let me clean your face now.” You shifted closer to Gaara, as the side of your knee was now brushing against his. Since you have to lean a little closer to him, you ended up unconsciously placing your warm palm on top of his naked thigh, the abrupt contact eliciting an inward gasp from Gaara; his shock not visible at all to you with how excellent he was in trying to bottle every reaction he has behind his usual, stoic face. What he couldn’t hide though was how his other hand was clenched in a tight fist, his thumb rubbing against his folded index finger in hopes of calming down his nerves.

You pressed a palm against his forehead before flipping back his fringe towards his head, revealing his tattoo. You dabbed the towel softly against his skin, wiping in between. “Your hair’s getting a little long, huh?”

“Should I cut it?” Gaara asked.

“Well, that is up to you to decide. I think you look handsome either way.” You pinched his cheek teasingly before wetting the towel once again. Gaara couldn’t help how racy his heart was at this moment; he was still not used to positive affirmations.

“Close your eyes.” You whispered under your breath. You folded the bath towel around your index and middle finger, as your grip on his thigh got a little tighter as you continued to inch closer towards him. You started around the area surrounding his eyes. “I really think you have gorgeous eyes.”

Gaara, despite being a nervous wreck that he was, found humor in what you just said; as a gentle, chortle of laughter left his mouth. “I have… what…”

“You don’t agree?” You pouted.

Gaara sensed a hint of sadness in your voice, and he could imagine you pouting right at that very second. “It’s just… it’s the first time I have received such compliment. It surprised me, my love.”

“Hmm… well, I think it really strikes a very interesting contrast, you know?” You mumbled, telling him that he can open his eyes now. You smiled even more as you saw the literal proof of your statement just now. “It might sound odd to you, but I think your eyebags bring out your pale, seafoam eyes better. You have such unique-colored eyes.” You smiled genuinely at him. Gaara tried to avert his eyes from the eye contact you were now trying to initiate, but you wanted him to know this wasn’t small talk; you were genuine about it, every bit of it. “Gaara?”

“…Yes?” Gaara flinched a little when you held him by the side of his cheek as you ushered him to face you once again.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered quietly as your face started to inch itself closer to his. Gaara shut his eyes closed in response, a soft sigh staying behind his nervously, zipped-tight lips when he felt the softness of your slight pucker against him. “You are so beautiful to me, Gaara.” You grinned against his lips before pressing a lingering peck once again. When you pulled back from the kiss, Gaara’s eyes barely fluttered open; with the evident blush staining his cheeks red. He was rendered speechless of it all, and you were nothing but understanding of it. You grabbed the folded, black shirt behind your back that you’ve fished out from the closet. Gaara was still not speaking, but he nodded in agreement when you told him that you were gonna put his shirt on for him.

“Thank you…” Gaara mumbled under his breath.

“You’re welcome.” You grinned brightly at him before standing up to place the basin at the corner of the room, telling Gaara along the lines of emptying it out tomorrow morning. “Oh, you go change into your pajamas now. I’ll stand here for a bit until you’re done, okay?”

Gaara didn’t answer, but you heard him shift from behind your back. You hummed a tune to yourself as you allowed him to finish getting dressed, adjusting your shirt and shorts as well so that you can now go back to sleep afterwards. When you heard a soft signal from Gaara telling you that he was done, you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked like; all tucked up on his side of the bed. A few minutes after you settled yourself underneath the blanket as well, you decided to change your mind, as you opted to sit instead; with your back pressing against the headboard. You couldn’t help but notice how awfully quiet Gaara was, lying on his side and facing away from you; not moving at all, but his way of breathing tattle-taled that he was still awake.

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“We can cuddle, if you’d like…”

“…”

Gaara shifted in his position, the rustling fabric ringing to your ears as he rotated himself to turn towards you. He propped his palm against the mattress before situating himself closer towards you, earning a surprised reaction from you with his choice of position; before having it transition into a soft, endearing smile.

His cheek was currently resting above your lap, the back of his head pressing against your stomach. He laid on his side, his knees folded so that his legs weren’t going to dangle down the edge of the bed. Gaara felt a little stiff and awkward as he still wasn’t entirely used to being this close and affectionate under his very own initiative - but a part of him… a part of him wanted to reach out towards you at the moment.

He yearned to feel your warmth against him tonight.

Gaara sighed, his thoughts mixing in with the undecisiveness of what kind of words should leave his mouth right now, in contrast to the other side of him wanting to open up, because the last thing he wanted was to get you worried over him. You caught up to his internal plight, his eyes fluttering open gently to meet yours as you combed your fingerpads through his hair, softly cooing to him that he didn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to.

Truth be told, the obvious lack of communication skills on his behalf paved way towards difficulties; it had been a root to some of the problems you two have encountered during the earlier onset of your relationship. Of course, you weren’t devoid of the responsibilities over the dilemmas as well, and you are very much aware of that. The innate awareness itself, and the perseverance to let each other know which issues that you two have that render setbacks on the relationship is what made your connection be continuously resilient. On your behalf, you finally understood that you should not take personal offense over his predisposition to stay silent; as it was already an internal struggle that he himself acknowledges, and tries his best to overcome in order to be a better partner for you.

With his heart touched over your reassuring gesture, Gaara reached out for your other hand, which was currently resting above his hip, and held it in front of his face, eyeing it lovingly while he fiddled with your digits, as if he wanted to feel every bleed of comforting warmth that poured out from your skin. Gaara pressed the back of your hand against his lips, giving it a gentle kiss before placing it above his cheek, as his thumb continued to press and massage against your palm to return the favor. “Would it be a bother if I were to ask you to your read your book to me, my love?”

A slight surprise graced your face, as this was the first time Gaara had requested something like that. “Of course not, Gaara.” You smiled softly at him. “Would you like me to get something that you like? Do you have anything in mind?”

“You don’t have to,” Gaara trailed off, followed by a soft, fleeting whisper, “I just want to hear your voice…”

Your chest fluttered at what you heard, and you could almost feel your stomach dropping in an unfathomable happiness. You reached for the book beside the lamp on your nightstand, opening it on a certain page you were reading into earlier. You cleared your throat, a little nervous, yet also wanting to give it your best shot. Gaara’s eyes were closed once again, a hint of anticipation gracing his peaceful face. “Rest for the meantime, okay?”

And with a slight nod from Gaara, you started to read to him.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you−− the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.”

And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have wasted for my rose−−" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” You repeated with a soft smile, your eyes sneaking down a glance at Gaara through the slight gap between the bottom edge of the book and your chest; his fiery, red locks reminding you of the said vibrantly-colored flower in the story. “I am responsible for my rose.”

Before you spoke another line once again, Gaara pressed his palm against the spine of the book, hooking his index and middle finger in between the partition of the pages and pulling it softly away from you. He placed the book on the side before sitting up, the faint sigh that left his mouth fanning air against your lips.

Gaara wanted to thank you, but the shock barred himself to speak even a single syllable right at that moment. He had underestimated how close his face would be, and the short space in betweeen the two of you had robbed him off of his capacity to speak as his eyes unconsciously glanced down at your lips.

He wanted to kiss you.

He wanted to kiss you so much.

…But, he stood frozen before you, his stomach and chest tightening beyond belief as he couldn’t move even an inch to close the gap that was preventing him from feeling your lips against him. He just continued to stare, taking in every line, corner and curve of your soft, glistening pout. Gaara felt his breathing gradually quicken, as he found himself leaning closer and closer to your equally, blushing face.

“Can I kiss you?” Gaara whispered under his breath, his deep, husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Can I kiss you, my love?” Gaara nudged his face forward towards you, basking in the emanating warmth from your face.

You nodded at him, your heart racing uncontrollably beneath your chest. “You can kiss me, Gaara.”

Gaara pulled back his face away from you, his almost shaking hand holding you by the side of your cheek, a thumb sneaking in soft strokes against your lower lip. His heart fluttered at how supple it was to the touch. He closed his eyes before leaning in towards you once again, that being the last sight before you shut your eyes in return. It wasn’t too long until you felt his lips brush gently against yours; a little hesitant, yet the intimacy of it igniting his urge to feel more. Gaara inched his lips forward with a deeper pressure; as your tender pout continued to bathe his body in a calming sense of warm solace that he couldn’t get enough of.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he immediately dove his face towards the crook of your neck, his arms sliding down on both sides of your body before wrapping them around your waist; ushering you closer for a hug. His breathing was rather erratic, slow and deep. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hand sneaking in a soft, rub across his scalp to ease him down. “Do you want to get some sleep now, love?”

Gaara hummed vaguely in response, his tone lingering with a hint of not wanting to let go of you just yet, coinciding perfectly with the fact that he just hugged you closer towards him.

“…”

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

Gaara buried his face deeper against your warm skin.

“Yes…”

You relaxed your shoulders against the headboard, your breathing almost hitching in anticipation as Gaara pulled his face back from the curve of your neck. His eyes fell down to the side, and just before you thought he was now going to lean forward for an another kiss, Gaara nuzzled his face towards your neck once again, his hug getting a little more tighter this time.

Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat, the beat of his heart getting tighter and deeper, like he could almost feel his chest sink as every pulse got heavier and heavier. He wanted to confess that his nervousness had skyrocketed beyond reach; and he wasn’t sure he could initiate another kiss once more with his weakening resolve. His jittering nerves were getting the best of him, making him mumble soft apologies against your skin as he cuddled closer towards you.

“I can kiss you, instead… if you want to.” You whispered to his ear.

Gaara faced you once again, his eyes glassy and heavy with anticipation.

“D- do you know how to kiss,” You scratched your index finger against your cheek embarrassingly before trying to meet his nervous gaze once again. “with our mouths open? Y- you know, using our… tongue.” The last word seemed to evaporate into thin air, as Gaara’s blush grew a deeper hue. “Don’t worry,” You chuckled nervously as you tried to comfort him. “I- It’s not like I’m an expert on that or anything. I have just… read about it,” You cleared your throat. “from the books I have.”

“I’m sorry… My lack of experience…” Gaara closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Hey,” You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “like I said, I have only read about it. I don’t know how it’ll actually be like in real life, or something…”

“You can… you can practice on me, if you’d like.”

You shot Gaara a surprised look in response to his newfound tone of voice. Despite being a flustered mess of pink and red, there was an evident determination in his face. “I want to learn about it, and I want to be able to… please you. So… if you may, as long as you’re comfortable… let me be your guest.”

You nodded at Gaara, “…Uhm, can I sit on your lap?” You mumbled softly.

With an anxious swallow and a shaky nod, Gaara piled three pillows against the headboard before laying on his back comfortably beside you. You thanked him under your breath before letting a sharp sigh of self-encouragement rip from your chest. Gaara couldn’t help but mentally curse inwardly to himself when he felt your supple body press down on him.

“Nervous?” You giggled, both asking Gaara and yourself to ease the tension just a little bit. “Our first makeout session, huh?”

Gaara gasped when you shifted your position, as inching closer towards him paved way for your crotch to grind briefly against his. He clenched his fists tight in hopes of not getting a hard on and making you uncomfortable.

“I’ll start now.”

You placed both of your hands on both sides of his cheek, giving him a soft, endearing smile of encouragement as you dove your face slowly towards him. Both of your eyes weren’t entirely closed; just enough for it to have a small peek of where both of your lips would land on. You pressed a teasing kiss upon his upper lip; pulling back a bit before brushing another peck against his lower lip this time. With a smile, you planted a full kiss on his soft pout; the pressure gradually increasing as Gaara tried his best to respond bit by bit.

“Open your mouth,” You whispered under your breath. Gaara swallowed nervously before allowing a slight gap part his lips in between. “if it feels too weird, just tell me, okay?”

“Mhm..” Gaara answered.

With your drooping eyes trained on his pucker, you inched your face forward, slowly sneaking in your tongue inside his wet cavern, eliciting a soft whimper from your lover. You ushered your body forward, as you leaned in for a deeper kiss; the teasing exploration of your tongue inside Gaara’s mouth not getting intense any time soon with how tensed he was beneath you.

You pulled back from the kiss with a soft grin on your face.

“So…” You asked shyly, “I- I guess that’s how it goes?”

Gaara hummed in thought, brushing his forearm against face as he was still processing what just happened.

There was rather an awkward silence brewing between the two of you, as Gaara’s gaze was fixed on everything but towards you. He couldn’t help it, his heart felt like it was going to somersault out of his ribcage at that very moment, and the fact that you were so close to him for the very first time was just adding fuel to the fire.

“We should get some rest,” You cooed. “There’s no rush about this, alright?”

“N- no, I-“ Gaara cleared his throat immediately, as his immediate disagreement made him blush even harder. “I can still manage, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

Gaara nodded in response.

With a soft smile, you ushered your face closer again, your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer to his haze-lost face. Gaara was surprised when you landed your lips upon the corner of his mouth, his confusion spiralling tighter when you started peppering pecking kisses across his cheeks. “Making out isn’t really just about open-mouthed kisses.” You whispered in between, as your other hand went to stroke the other side of his face adoringly. “There are other sensitive spots in our bodies that we can… please, like… here…” You kissed the spot below his ear, tracing the outer shell of it with slow, teasing kisses; enveloping Gaara in a shudder; which was suddenly reciprocated by your own body in return when you felt his hand travel down your spine as he loosely gripped you in place by your waist. You mapped a trail of kisses downwards once again, his grasp getting briefly tighter as your lips got lower and lower down his neck. You halted for a minute, the sensation he’s been feeling not stopping even for a bit as he still felt stimulated by your hot breathe tickling the skin of his neck. “Can I suckle on your neck?”

Gaara’s face had never felt so hot, the heat was nothing in comparison to even the hottest rays under the sun in Suna that has been reflecting over his face for years.

“Yes...” Gaara mumbled as he pressed his face against the plane of your shoulder.

You brushed a gentle pucker against your chosen spot, peppering it with endearing reassurance. Gaara shuddered once more when he felt your hand ran upwards his spine; a barely audible gasp leaking past his mouth as he felt your fingertips rake through the base of his scalp, your fingers slowly threading through his locks as you tilted his face sidewards with a soft grip. With a whispered warning, you took in the skin of his neck into your mouth, suckling on it softly and kissing it in between before sucking it once again a little harder with every try.

“Ahh, Y/N…”

…

Your heart felt like it missed a beat.

“Did I hear that right?” You whispered breathily to his ear. “Was that a moan?”

Gaara nodded bashfully in response.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes…” Gaara mumbled under his breath. “Y- you’re so… good at this.”

“It doesn’t stop here just yet.” There was a faint smirk on your face. “There’s so much more you’ve yet to see,” You could feel Gaara’s labored breathing against you, his breathing hitching for worse when you brushed your crotch against his on purpose. “so much more you’ve yet to feel…”

“Y/N…”

“You can touch me too, if you like…” You mumbled suggestively, as you placed your hand on top of his hand that was resting upon your waist, giving it a soft brush of contact before dragging it under your shirt, the warm skin contact of his palm brushing against your bare skin making you bite your lip subtly in response.

You pulled back your face from the curve of his neck, initiating an effort to meet his shaky gaze once again. “Do you want to see me, Gaara?”

And with a nervous nod from your lover, you pulled your shirt over your head.

You reached for the clasp behind your back, unclasping it rather a little shakily as you were also nervous as well. You were kind of thankful that Gaara wasn’t there to notice how long you have been taking off the damned fabric off of you, as he was enveloped in a bashful shell of himself; with his eyes drifting towards the side out of respect.

With a satisfied sigh, you quickly placed your forearm below your chest in support before tossing the bra to the side.

“Y- you can look now…”

Gaara felt like the air he was barely breathing in was now taken away from him completely.

You quickly grabbed the discarded shirt, covering yourself in a frazzled mumble of words.

He was quiet, he was too quiet; his rapid breathing was the only response you were hearing from him and you would be lying if you said that the lack of verbal reaffirmations from him didn’t affect you at all. When Gaara caught up with how he might have made you feel, he quickly snapped back to his senses. Through his crippling bashfulness, he managed to look directly into your eyes.

…And with an adoring smile, Gaara spoke once again.

“You look so beautiful, my love.”

Gaara might be beyond a nervous wreck at this point, but so were you. He couldn’t help but coo soft apologies in reference to this thought, as he felt like all he did was sit back and let you do the work. You reassured him that it wasn’t anything like that, that it’s only natural to be high-strung at that moment since both of you had not done this before.

“Please,” Gaara said, although his voice was soft and endearing, you could still tell the deep-seated determination behind it. “if you’re comfortable with it… please, tell me how I could make you feel good.”

You tossed the shirt to the side once again.

“W- wait, let me… let me reposition myself a little bit, my love.” Gaara mumbled, as the squeeze of his hand placed on your waist got a little firmer in response to the movement. He straightened his back once more, allowing him to have a better posture; with a nod, you started to search for his other hand.

You guided his tad bit shaky hand towards your left breast, a soft sigh exiting your mouth as you felt the warm contact of his palm upon your nakedness. You tried to meet Gaara’s eyes, but a nervous tick sent him down staring intently down his directed hand as the brief eye contact with your heavy-lidded eyes sent shivers down his spine.

“Feel the weight of it first,” You mumbled. “Start slowly, allow your… fingers to wrap around the roundness of it…”

Gaara nodded studiously as he took mental notes deep into his brain. He was starting to get more comfortable around it, as the urge to please you was starting to get ahead of his tensing nerves.

“That’s it… Gradually increase the firmness of your grasp… Ahh.” You moaned softly under your breath, as Gaara’s firmer ministrations started to send jolts of pleasure down the rest of your body. Gaara felt like his breathing halted momentarily, but he knew better this time. You were now starting to feel good under his touch, and he would stop at nothing to ensure he wouldn’t keep you away from feeling that way.

“T- Touch my other breast too…”

With a swallow, Gaara followed through, repeating exactly what he had learned previously.

You tried your best to tone down your voice, but another pleasure-soaked moan ripped from your heaving chest as Gaara continued to play through his ministrations. He watched you in awe, as you stared lustfully down at your breast being toyed with by his very own hands. You knew he was starting to feel good as well, as you started to feel his protuding erection across your clothed slit.

“Wet your thumb with your tongue, Gaara.” The way you moaned his name at the very end of your sentence made him curse inwardly to himself. Gaara extended the tip of his tongue, licking the pad of his thumb diligently until it was appropriately wet. You propped your palms behind your back, placing them above Gaara knees as you arched back a little, allowing him to have a fuller view of your naked, upper body.

A budding, lustful sigh leaked past Gaara’s lips. Somehow, he did have a vague idea in regards to what was going to follow past your previous instruction, so out of instinct, Gaara rested his palm upon the side of your breast, and with a swift motion, Gaara brushed his lubricated thumb against your nipple, eliciting a sweeter moan from you.

“Not only a fast learner; you’re also quite the intuitive one, are you?” You mumbled with a smirk.

Gaara smirked back briefly, before wetting his other thumb to reflect the exact ministration on your other breast.

“Ohh, Gaara.”

Gaara flicked both of his thumbs teasingly, side to side, upon your now stiffening nub. Not depending entirely on your instruction alone anymore, Gaara went through his instinct as he rubbed the pads of his thumb in circular motions against your nipples; dragging out a drawn out, blissful mewl of his name from your lips as you started to unconsciously dig your nails against the skin of his thighs.

“Gaara, that feels so-“

Gaara’s hands went down your waist and without any foreword, he yanked you closer towards him, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“Can… can I put it in my mouth?” Gaara breathed heavily beneath you, his eyes glassy with impending lust. You raked your fingernails softly across both sides of his head, planting shivers all over his body at how stimulating it felt like for his hair to be played with like that.

“I’d love that…”

With a slight, nervous sigh, Gaara stared at your nub, a hint of curiosity pooling on his seafoam eyes. Gaara pressed a soft kiss on your left breast, his lips tiptoeing towards the other one as he kissed it just as endearingly. “You’re so… perfect, Y/N.”

Your chest and your stomach fluttered at his whispered compliments, as he continued to admire every bit of your nakedness.

“You look so beautiful, my love…”

You pressed a soft kiss against his head, as his utmost adoration continued to weaken every fiber of composure within your body… and after the lingering stare between the two of you, Gaara tightened his grip on your waist before parting his wet mouth; enveloping your nipple lovingly into his wet cavern.

Gaara shifted in his position, straightening his back better against the cushion of the pillow as the way he folded his knees towards his body elevated you a little, allowing you to tower over him even more. Gaara took back his mouth only to dive his face forward to your other teat, moaning adoringly against your naked nipple. Gaara used his forefinger and his thumb to stimulate your other nub in circles, eliciting strings of mewls from your mouth as you continued to moan his name selfishly.

“That’s so good, that feels so good,” You groaned above him, a blissful sight of you being thoroughly watched by Gaara as he shot his gaze towards your mewling stance.

Sneaking past your rational thoughts, your hips began to grind itself against his body on its own, as the pleasure of getting your tits suckled and toyed with by your eager lover’s mouth continued to stir your lust for worse. You pulled on Gaara’s hair, tilting his face upwards to face you, and with a swift motion, you initiated an open-mouthed kisses against his soft pout; your body feeling like you’re being enveloped in a feverish sensation as you continued to swirl his tongue around his mouth. “Touch me down there too…” You whispered in between your sloppy kisses as you redirected both of Gaara’s hand to fumble down your lower back, before shoving it under your shorts. The fabric was loose enough to give Gaara an ample room to massage and squeeze your backside, with the relaxing gesture passing a pleasured moan from your mouth to his. Gaara rubbed his palms across the roundness of your ass in circles before giving it a firm squeeze. The way he was touching you at the moment almost overwhelmed him to a certain point.

You shoved Gaara deeper into the pillow fort behind his back, lapping your tongue inside his mouth, eagerly intertwining it with his own; which was guided by his slight nervous attempt to kiss you back just as passionately. You smiled against Gaara, encouraging him with your soft whispers of approval in between your kisses, making his stomach flutter in a mix of slowly diminishing self-consciousness and the brewing desire to please you more.

You pressed your lips harder against him, deepening your sloppy kiss as you raked your nails through his messy, red hair; making Gaara shudder against you. You pressed your body closer against him, pinning and pinning him deeper into headboard. Dragging your lips past the corner of his lips, you planted pecking kisses towards his ear. “I’d like to… try something.” You whispered breathily, the hot air sending shivers down his spine.

“W- what do you have in mind, my love?” Gaara asked back breathily.

“You need… stimulation down there as well, right?”

Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat with a slight, wide pair of eyes; processing exactly what you were trying to insinuate.

“I want to make you feel good too, Gaara.” You mumbled blushingly. With a coy smile, you started to grind your clothed slit across Gaara’s stiffened arousal; and the way it got harder and harder with every thrust almost sent you towards the edge.

“Do you want me to touch you down there, love?”

Gaara, although a little hesitant due to his embarrassment, nodded through his bashful stance; as he would be lying if he said that the way his cock throbbed harder beneath you wasn’t starting to feel a little touch-starved.

Gaara left a final, parting squeeze on your backside before allowing you to shift your position; as you were now sitting beside him, your palm propped upon his other thigh to support your composure. “Can I?”

Gaara nodded again with a soft agreement leaving his mouth. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of pajamas before peeling it off of him completely, leaving him in nothing but a new, dark gray boxer shorts. Despite being the one who’s pulling the reins at the moment, you were indeed just as anxious as your lover; as both of you tiptoed towards your very first sexual interaction with one another. Nevertheless, the trust that both of you had for each other made it easier to settle in comfortably under one’s touch, and as foreign as it may be, it still felt like there was a strong, innate connection that bounded you and Gaara together; an undeniable bond that envelops you and your lover in a sense of solace despite showing each other’s naked vulnerabilities.

Everything just feels like… it was meant to happen.

With Gaara’s notice, you slowly undressed him from the lone, remaining fabric that was covering his body; making you flinch in surprise when his aroused cock snapped against the spot just below his clothed navel. You couldn’t help but swallow in anticipation. You left his boxer shorts just above his knees; so that if ever he feels the need to cover himself up, he’d have no trouble looking for his clothing. Gaara couldn’t help but smile to himself warmly with your caring gesture.

You rested your palm upon it, making you gasp slightly with the contact. “Wow, it’s… hot. I mean, it’s hot to the touch... I- It’s so warm?” You stuttered confusingly.

“Y- yes… it really is like that.” Gaara stuttered back nervously with a pleasured sigh, as you used the area between your thumb and index finger to rub against his throbbing cock, the silhouette of his hardness pressing a defined outline against the skin of his lower abdomen igniting a fire of arousal in his body as he was continuously reminded of how rigid his dick was under your touch.

“Oh? It’s wet up here…” You mumbled curiously as you brushed your thumb against the tip of his cock, making Gaara moan softly as you rubbed the pad of your finger against it in circles.

“Ahh… i- it happens… when I am aroused.”

Truth be told, the way you were looking at his cock with wonder in your eyes made his cock even harder. How you looked nervous and in awe at the same time as you took in the sight of his stiffened cock made him choke on his own breath.

“Do you play with yourself?”

Gaara’s breathing hitched after hearing your question, seemingly not knowing exactly how to answer it as his shock sent his brain into a haywire. A minute or two later, he seemed to retrieve back a sense of himself, as he was now trying to conjure up an answer to satiate your curiosity.

“Before I met you… I only saw it as a way of releasing… pent up stress. B- but when I got to know you, and my affections for you started to develop more and more, I…” Gaara sighed, as his nerves started to shake him up once again. Deep inside, a possible answer did plague him as to why sharing his deepest thoughts felt so difficult; maybe it was related to the fact that he doesn’t talk about himself as much as other people tend to do. He appreciates hearing other people’s thoughts and feelings, and finds comfort that they trust him to tell him those kind of things, but for him to open up himself was still a little off to him.

It was different with you. Other people would just go off and respect Gaara’s wishes not to talk about himself, and proceed to an almost one-sided conversation with Gaara just nodding in response. You always asked him, you always wanted to know more about him, but in a way that was not laced with any ounce of condescending pressure at all. Your words were calculated enough to encourage him, not to force him. He found comfort in the slight taste of curiosity that you offered to him, and in a way, it had made him much more open in regards to his thoughts and feelings.

Despite of being a nervous wreck at the moment, and as much as how embarrassed he was to admit it to himself, Gaara wanted to continue the conversation. A part of him wanted to selfishly indulge in it. He just needed a little breathing in between to get through it.

“I found myself… thinking about you. T- thinking a lot about you, actually…” Gaara’s heavy-lidded gaze landed upon his cock being stroked softly against his abdomen, and the way you looked so encouragingly gentle on the contrary of literally playing with his cock at the moment was almost a complex combination of funny yet sexy in his view. “We were still friends at that time, and I… I actually felt guilty about it… because I was starting to have inappropriate thoughts about you, and I just… Y/N…” Gaara moaned your name, no longer able to continue, as the way you were stimulating him at that moment and the added effort of opening up for someone as private as him rendered him speechless.

“Just sit back and relax, love.” You cooed, as you wrapped a full fist around his pulsing dick, pumping your fist up and down as you found yourself leaning your face closer and closer towards it, taking in the sight of the muscle throbbing within the hollow of your fist.

“Gaara?”

“Y- yes?”

“Do you know oral sex?”

Gaara’s eyes were wide in surprise as soon as he heard what seems to be a potential proposition you could be speaking of minutes later. A thought so alienatingly foreign, yet somehow, he had already envisioned you doing it while he jerked off his cock deep into the sleepless night of having nothing but fervent, erotic thoughts about you.

Oral sex, huh?

He had read about it, probably twenty pages into that green book that the sixth Hokage himself; Hatake, Kakashi, gave him during his diplomatic visit in Sunagakure before opening his cabinet and shoving it inside out of panic.

…But through his jittering nerves, he did pick up the book from the shelf to take it home, and the provocative imagery that the book embedded into his innocent mind as he took in sentences of nothing but pure, lustful sex, did make his trousers tight in response.

The deeper he got into the book, the more he didn’t realize that he was already stroking his cock while he laid back on the comfort of his couch, legs spread open, back pressed against the cushion sluggishly as he continued to pump his fist slowly up and down his throbbing dick, moaning your name in between the wet, skin slapping noises that ripped through the silence of his house.

In his mind, you were enthusiastically bobbing your head up and down in between his thighs.

“I am… I am aware of it.”

You gulped in response, as the sight of the tip of his cock starting to glisten more with the erupting lust from his cock ignited a hunger inside you, and with letting your instincts tore through, you wrapped your other fist in his cock, before taking in the one where your thumb is wet his pre-cum, and putting it in your mouth to taste.

“Shit.” Gaara shut his eyes closed in an exasperated arousal.

“Do you want to know how it feels?” You whispered seductively, as you placed your dominant hand once again to pump his cock up and down.

“A- are you comfortable with it?” Gaara asked with concern despite the lustful haze he was starting to get lost in.

“I am,” A small smirk made its way on your lips. “I want to… I want to wrap my mouth around it.”

“Around… what?” Gaara asked, eliciting a surprised reaction not only from you, but from himself as well.

“Around your huge, throbbing cock.” You teased, earning another yet breathy cuss from Gaara.

Just before you were about to take his throbbing member into your mouth, Gaara whispered your name softly to tug on your attention, and you were met by the utter gentleness in his eyes. Gaara tucked a stray hair behind your ear, before allowing his thumb to brush across your cheek. “You don’t have to do it… if you don’t want to… okay? You’re the one who gets to decide what you want to do, my love… You can stop anytime you want to, do not mind me at all.”

Your chest fluttered at his caring reminder. “Thank you, Gaara…” You leaned towards him, as you pressed another peck of kiss upon his lips. “Don’t forget about yourself too, alright? If you want me to stop, tell me right away, okay?”

Gaara nodded with a smile as he thanked you back softly in return. After telling him to lay down and relax, you started to trace a trail of downward kisses from his jaw, and down his sensitive neck. You peppered the plane of his collarbone with gentle pecks in between telling him how perfect he was. Gaara’s flushed face was angled towards the ceiling, his breathing a little loud and laboured as he tried to meet your gaze after telling him to look at you. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, love. Every inch of you is more than perfect to me.”

“Y/N…” A shocked, breathy gasp escaped his lips when you flicked the side of your index finger against his nipple.

“Too ticklish?” You asked gently, getting an embarrassed nod from Gaara as he tried to cover half of his face with his forearm. “That’ll be reserved for next time…” You mumbled with a smirk, making Gaara shudder as his thoughts began to run wild.

“I- I didn’t say I didn’t like it… I was just-“ Gaara parted his thighs apart, the ample space it resulted to allowing you to rest down on your breasts and stomach comfortably. I- uhm, is your position comfortable? Don’t hesitate to tell me if you need a pillow, or if you want me to… uh change my position...” He mumbled caringly. You nodded at him, reassuring your anxious lover that everything’s fine at the moment, there was no need to worry.

“Ready?” You asked with a slight, coy smile on your face, as you eyed the sopping wet tip of his cock while you sluggishly pumped your fist up and down his shaft. With a breathy moan alongside a nod from Gaara, you started to get down on your business.

You extended the tip of your tongue, pressing it flat against the underside; dragging your tongue back and forth before encircling it around the circumference of his pink, sensitive tip. Your fist remained as a slight grip around the base of his cock, with your index finger and thumb wrapping a loose, jerking off motion so that he doesn’t get too overwhelmed right away. As the encircling stimulation of your tongue got lower and lower, that was when you decided to take in the whole, pulsing tip into your wet mouth; earning another breathy gasp of your name from Gaara.

You allowed the soft, innerside of your pout to envelop the tip in a gradually tightening massage, sneaking your tongue in between the slight, back and forth motions of your head. Your attention was caught by the sound of rustling fabric, with your eyes falling down on to the side; only to see Gaara’s knuckles turning white as he placed a tight grip on the sheets in response to the bliss you were serving him. With the free hand that was resting above his thigh at the moment, you reached for his hand, brushing your palm above the back of it before intertwining your fingers in between his digits, pulling it over to rest it above his thighs as you placed your palm flat down above it.

His lower lip gradually dropped down in anticipation, as he locked his eyes upon the sight of your face, slowly taking in his arousal deep into your wet mouth. He gasped even louder when you didn’t bother stopping midway, as you went on to take whole length of his cock deeper and deeper into you, only halting when a loud, gagging sound ripped through the dead silence of the bedroom. You allowed yourself to choke around his dick once, twice, before releasing it with a lustful pop right before Gaara’s eyes, the teasing hint of euphoria of your airway being cut off making you mewl his name dirtily as you tried your best to chase your breath. Gaara’s whole body bathed itself in prortruding goosebumps, a reaction you saw yourself after seeing his thighs covered with the said bodily reaction.

Just before Gaara gets to speak a query of concern, you fixed your hair out of the way before diving his cock right into your mouth once again; as you have now decided to put an end in your teasing touch. You gripped the tip of his cock around the inner swell of your pout in place as you pumped your fist up and down the body of his dick; allowing your face to gradually dip downwards, your mouth slowly taking in more areas to suck and lick on while the rest of what’s yet to follow was still stimulated by the hollow of your fist.

“Y/N… w-what are you doing… ahh…” Gaara moaned helplessly before you as the increasing bliss continued to send jolts of euphoria down the rest of his body. “That feels… so good…” He felt so embarrassed to be mewling like this, but what you were doing with him at the moment, toying on his cock expertly just had him crumbling apart desperately under your touch. Gaara hastily sat up from having his back leaning against the pillows, with his palms now propped flat against the mattress on opposites sides of his body in hopes of supporting his diminishing composure. He shut his eyes closed, but a part of him wanted to take a peek on the real life counterpart itself of what he has been lewdly jerking off to for months. There were so many aspects of such acts that no amount of heavily-vivid imagination could ever come close, details that he took in carefully and mindfully.

Apart from the mind-wrecking sensation itself of having his cock be sucked off by his beloved, the consorting sounds it bears alongside with aroused him beyond anything. The way you breathed out helplessly as you release his cock with a pop, looking up to him with gently-innocent, yet ironically lustful eyes as if you were silently asking for further reaffirmation to settle down that you were making him feel good just drives him towards the edge. The sound of spit, rub, slurp and choke; the raw sound of wet-slapping skin as you jerked his rock hard cock before your flushed, glistening face, only to swallow his dick whole once again robbed him off of the capacity to communicate.

“I don’t think I-“ An uncontrolled moan interjected at his crippling ability to speak, as the established pace of your head bobbing up and down his sopping wet member started to tighten his lower abdomen in a familiar, addicting sensation. This was it, this was the feeling that he finds himself losing even the slightest ounce of rational thought. He folded up his thigh while the other remain rested upon the mattress. You frantically searched for his hand, placing it above your head and instructing him to lock his fingers in your hair. Gaara didn’t want to inflict pain on you, so he wrapped a loose fist of your locks, his fingerpads sneaking in to rub against your scalp in hopes of returning the smallest amount of favor in contrast to what you were doing with his cock at the moment.

He finds himself shuddering even more, as the wet, gulping sounds of your mouth coming down on his dick up and down continued to get louder and desperate with every down and upwards thrust. With a nervous swallow, Gaara tried to look down at you; and a barely audible cuss left his salivating mouth.

The increasing knot of impending orgasm in Gaara’s lower abdomen started to get tighter and tighter; his body jerking out of shock when you slyly brushed a thumb across his nipple once again. You stared at him back, giving him a sly wink before focusing on the task at hand once again. As you felt your jaw starting to get sore, you pulled his cock out of your mouth; jerking him off with your now, sloppy wet fist as you pressed his now overly sensitive tip against your tongue. Gaara’s chest was now heaving up and down desperately, his face angled towards the ceiling as his mouth gaped in utter, pure bliss. He looked back at you once again, and despite his blurring, lusftul gaze being blocked by strays of his messy, red hair, he saw how you arched your back, with your body now bending over erotically before his feasting eyes; and before any word of warning could have ever leave his panting mouth, you felt the tip of his cock pulse uncontrollably against your wet tongue; only to be followed by streaks of hot, thick cum jolting out of his convulsing arousal.

Your eyes widened in shock, as you look up towards Gaara whose face was contorted in what seemed to be nothing but raw and primal look of euphoria upon his flushed, open-mouthed face; an interjecting moan of bliss ripped from his heaving, sweating chest as his body convulsed against you. Gaara tried to pull away out of embarrassment, and the said gesture had only resulted to his what remains of his cum being milked down by his drawn out throbbing orgasm to paint a streak across your cheek; making you widen your eyes even more as Gaara continued to cum all over your face and your hair. Out of an instinctive flight response, Gaara quickly grabbed the pillow behind him, covered his face with it, and slumped down his back on the mattress.

As surprised as you were; the blur of Gaara’s muffled curses and heavy breathing against the pillow started to ring clearer towards your ears; his bashful response making you chuckle in return. You squeezed yourself beside Gaara, sneaking your hand underneath the pillow he had been covering himself up before hugging him from his side; your thigh placed above his as you relaxed your face against the supple pillow. “Are you okay?”

“…”

Gaara couldn’t still bring himself to talk, but with a soft, “I’ll be back.” He placed the pillow gently beneath your thigh in replacement of his as he stood up from the bed, yanking his boxer shorts upwards before confusingly walking outside the room. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he was so panickingly quick that even before you get to a speak a single syllable, he has already bolted outside the door.

“So that’s what it tasted like…” You thought to yourself, as a feverish flush painted your cheeks warm; your stomach coiling bashfully as your buried your face deep into the pillow. You weren’t going to lie, giving Gaara his very first blowjob was something you have been thinking about before. The thought itself alone was fervently erotic, but the literal act itself that just took place earlier was beyond anything your mind could have ever muster. How he moaned your name breathily as you slurped his cock into your mouth sent you addiciting shivers down your spine.

You snaked a palm down your stomach, your curious fingers inching and inching closer towards your arousal; you sneaked your digits underneath the constricting fabric of your shorts and your underwear; and you cussed inwardly as your fingerpads were met by how sopping wet your slick was. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts before lifting your ass from the mattress and swiftly discarding the said article of clothing off of you and tossing it on the floor.

Fuck, sucking your lover’s cock was indeed arousing.

Just after cleaning your face off of Gaara’s cum with your discarded shirt, Gaara entered the bedroom once again, both his hands busy as he carried a glass of water and a dessert plate on the other hand… containing a slice of… cake?

Gaara awkwardly tiptoed his way towards the bed. He placed the glass and the plate on top of the nightstand, his gaze and smile endearing yet still so… shaky. A soft creak of the bed responded as he sat on the edge of the mattress, facing you directly while you were now leaning your back against the headboard, your upper naked body covered up by the soft, fluffy pillow. Gaara placed his palm on top of your hand that was resting on your lap, his thumb giving an encircling rub. "I… uhm… I got you something.” Gaara mumbled under his breath. “I- I know that the taste of semen isn’t entirely too pleasing as I have tasted mine b- before-“ He almost choked on the last word of his sentence as he realized what he just said, making him whisper an almost inaudible “what am I saying?” to himself as he rubbed both of palms against his cheeks out of frustration.

Choosing not to inquire further to spare him the additional embarrassment, you chuckled to yourself as you reached out for the glass of water, drinking it halfway through before returning it on top of the nightstand once again; letting a satisfied sigh rip from your chest after the chill rehydration. “Thank you so much, Gaara. This was very nice of you.”

You leaned your body towards the nightstand, allowing Gaara to see the naked, graceful curve of your back as you unintentionally bent over before him, as you only wanted to have a bite or two of the cake; the decadence yet the muted sweetness of it rolling nicely upon your tongue. You sliced the fork into the dessert, placing a cupping palm below it in case it falls as you shuffled your way through the bed; facing Gaara once again.

“Have a bite, too.” You smiled softly at him.

Gaara’s blush grew a deeper hue, his eyes falling down to the side as he opened his mouth slightly to take in the slice of cake into his mouth. He chewed slowly as you watched him curiously while you took another sip of water before handing it to him so he could cleanse his palate as well; earning a soft worded gratitude from him.

You folded your thighs towards your chest, leaning your chin down against your forearms that was resting above your knees as you continued to gaze at him, and Gaara couldn’t help but be even more fidgety under your stare. “Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Gaara sighed before nodding slowly in response. “Yes… yes, I am. I’m really sorry… I’m just flustered.”

“Really? Why?” You inquired gently.

“It’s… it’s my first time. A- and I know that it’s your first time too… It’s just… it felt so good.” Gaara trailed off, as he gathered his scrambled thoughts with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried that I’m going to end up doing something wrong, or in my case at the moment… I already did something wrong… I’m really sorry, my love.”

“Gaara…”

This time, you held his hand, tugging on his attention as his quivering stare tried to meet your eyes once again. Your eyes were full of warmth, a very inviting sense of care that he couldn’t help but be drawn to; and before he even realizes it, he has already pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. He closed his eyes, savoring the emotions he was bathing himself as he continued to display such adoring act that you utmostly deserved.

“There’s nothing you should be saying sorry for.” You held his hand, brushing soft strokes against it before leaning your face closer to kiss it gently. “Also, please remember that we’re not in a hurry. We can always take our time.”

Gaara nodded with a sigh, his eyes expressing what seem to be a tad bit of loneliness and disappointment in himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered carefully, following up with another statement in order to reduce the pressure on your lover. “If you don’t want to, that would be fine as well… we can just cuddle and sleep. If you do need some space to think about it, I wouldn’t mind that, too. Anything you choose to do would be fine, okay? Anything, love.”

Gaara’s eyes softened, his heart and stomach warming and tightening up in a coil as he couldn’t help but feel so vulnerably comfortable with you.

Your eyes widened out of curiosity when you saw Gaara peel his shirt off of his body, only to put it over your head as he gently reached out for each of your hand to assist it towards the armholes of the clothing. “Thought you might start feeling cold…” Gaara mumbled with a soft smile on his face as he continued to gaze at you with a pair of adoring eyes.

“But now… you’ll feel cold.” You poked his naked, toned chest teasingly.

“Not entirely so.” Gaara chuckled. “Because I know you’ll be here all night to keep me warm.” He mumbled with a genuine smile on his face before reaching out for the blanket on the bedroom floor and covering himself from the back before tackling you down on the mattress playfully as both you giggled under the fabric.

“I’ll keep you warm for the rest of my life,” You whispered softly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before pressing a kiss on top of his head; his face nestled in between your now clothed breasts. Gaara eyes widened after hearing such words, and with the overpouring gentleness and warmth that you continue to generously offer to him, he couldn’t help but close his eyes to allow himself to bask it in; in ardent hopes that your affections was something he truly deserved. To be adored and cared for in ways that he had given up on a long time ago as means of atonement, he was still far from being forgiving of himself at the moment; but your adoring words, your caring gestures had allowed him to warm up to such idea bit by bit.

You made him feel that he was worth loving after all; and in a complex, innate response that he somehow ends up feeling; he begins to love himself a little more than he’s been robbing himself of for so long.

Every ounce of emotions that he has tried to repress for so long started to gush through his system; and it placed him in a spiralling haywire of everything else in a blur in exception of you.

You.

You…

“I love you.” He thought to himself as his hands started to travel underneath your shirt, his lips peppering soft, pecking kisses towards your neck as he mirrored it himself how you shuddered beneath him when you traced the length of his naked spine upwards to his nape with soft scratch of your nails. “I love you.” The words never left his mouth as he continued to spoke it inwardly, all alone in himself to hear such confessions, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it almost hurts to say it.”

With his eyes heavy and his breathing labored, Gaara brushed his lips teasingly against your wet pucker; taking his time slowly as traced the outline of your lower lip with pecking kisses. With a soft sigh, Gaara closed his eyes gently as he leaned his face forward. He suckled on your lower lip; and with a gentle bite that parted your mouth ever so slightly, Gaara inserted his tongue inside your mouth.

Oh, how he fought through his nerves.

Gaara placed his thumb and forefinger above your chin, his other hand resting above the side of your face. Gaara halted the kiss for a second, his heavy-lidded gaze taking in the sight of you before shoving himself towards you once again. You felt his thumb stroke your cheek softly as his middle and ring finger brushed gently against the skin of your ear; the endearing gesturing weakening your composure even more as you found yourself succumbing to his affectionate kiss. His tongue unraveled the depths of your mouth with a slow, loving pace; striking an interesting contrast, as despite his hunger for you, Gaara couldn’t help but still find himself savoring you as if he would never, ever run out of all the time in this world.

The longer his kiss dragged on, the more he realized that it was as if the gentle taste of your wet mouth imprinted a soul-numbing addiction into him. And if you were to directly ask Gaara about it, he knew damn well that beyond the red face and the shaky effort to avoid your penetrating gaze, he’s just too honest to deny that he’s beyond smitten at this point, and the lone thought that he only he could conjure right at this moment is you, and the fact that both of you were basically making out with each other inside his bedroom.

With a firm suck on your tongue, Gaara released you from his fervent, smothering kiss; a smile cracking on his lips as he pressed his forehead against you.

“Am I deemed to be lacking in your standards, or do I somehow… pass just enough?” Gaara chuckled.

“Don’t sell yourself too short now.” You giggled back, sneaking in a pinch on his cheek to tease him. “You’re an amazing kisser. You’re already beyond skilled, to be honest.”

“Really?” Gaara’s cheeks were now rose-colored in bashfulness, as your compliments never failed to make his heart race.

You nodded at him encouragingly, embedding a deeper smile on his lips.

“I love you.” You whispered lovingly to him.

Gaara shut his eyes closed as he felt his chest tightened.

“Don’t say it again, not now; not yet.” He pleaded silently to himself.

It scares him.

It scares him so much at how weak feels like, at how needy he was of your love.

It scares him, it scares him so much.

“Please, not now.”

“I love you, Gaara,” You mumbled with the most endearing smile he had seen in the entirety of his life.

Gaara shut his eyes closed, squinting his lids tighter and tighter in hopes of cutting off the impending tears that was starting to swell in both corners of his eyes. His eyes were now glassy and heavy, as he started to smother needy, pecking kisses all over your face, down the path of your jaw; licking and suckling on the skin of your neck in shallow and deeper intervals; Gaara traced a linear path down the middle of your clothed breasts; the thin fabric of his shirt allowing a soft silhouette of your naked body underneath to show through.

Gaara threw the blanket off of his body before placing a loose grip on both sides of your hips, his thumbs sneaking a caressing touch on your skin as he began to plant kisses upon your clothed teat; the continuous surge of shudders painting the rest of your body as you arched your back a little with a soft moan when Gaara took in your fabric-covert nipple; suckling on it with a gradual increase of pressure; his face delayed yet in synonymous motion with how the tip of his tongue rolled over the nub in circles. He spat on the fabric, allowing you to feel the cold wetness of his saliva to peer through the threads. Gaara snaked his other hand upwards he placed a soft grasp above your other teat, flicking the side of his middle finger against the other nipple before wrapping it around with his index finger and thumb; encircling and tugging on it occasionally as your stiffened peak began to protrude through the fabric of his shirt.

As his hands went lower once again, hooking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear, he halted momentarily; before trying to meet your equally heavy-lidded gaze; “Can I?” He whispered ever so softly. You nodded in agreement; arching your back upwards as he began to pull away the sole, remaining fabric covering your bare body.

As bold as you may seem to be most of the time, having been seen naked by your lover for the first time had you conscious as well; as you tried to hide your worsening, flushed face underneath the cover of your forearms. As starstrucked as Gaara may be; he knew better now than to stay graveyard-silent this time; as worded expressions of adoration was something essential in establishing comfort during such acts of intimacy. With both hands, Gaara brushed his palms slowly underneath your thighs, stroking it upwards until he gripped you in place by the back of your knees. He pressed soft kisses against it, whispering stuttered, affirmations with a soft, breathy voice.

Gaara leaned downwards to brush a caressing touch against your jaw; smiling ever so gently at your adorable flusteredness. You felt him shuffle above you, and you flinched in surprise when you felt his hot breath fan against the side of your neck; as he was now laying on his side next to you.

“I figured… I should be closer towards you,” Gaara whispered into your ear. “So that you can tell me right away how you want my fingers to please you.” He mumbled breathily as he snaked his arm underneath the back of your head as means of support. “If you’ll allow me, please let me return the favor and make you feel good this time.”

You reached out for his hand that was resting above your thigh, placing it in between of your faces before giving it a soft kiss. You held his index and middle finger, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he watched you take his digits into your mouth; suckling on it with your eyes closed before fluttering them open once again, your eyes darting below you as you guided his hands towards the sopping arousal between your legs.

Gaara watched his guided digits carefully; as you parted his index and middle finger apart, before directing it to press softly up and down the outer lips of your lubricated slit. Gaara felt your arousal tense up slowly underneath his touch. You held his hand by the back of it before shyly commanding his fingers to brush briefly against the sopping center, allowing his fingerpads to trace a linear path upwards until it halted against your now, pulsing nub.

“T- that’s called the clitoris,” You mumbled shyly against him. “Penetrative foreplay such as fingering, or the penetrative act of sex itself,” You cleared your throat, “I- I guess it feels good… but the easiest way to make me cum is by rubbing my clit.” Your breathing went erratic when Gaara started to slowly rub against it under his own initiative. “It could be like… what I taught you earlier. Increase the pressure and pace gradually, do intervals with light and… ahh…” You clenched your thighs together slightly as Gaara’s skillful application of what he’s learning at the moment began to crumble you apart bit by bit. “a- and firm touches. The surrounding area might be less sensitive, but teasing in between would feel just as good,”

“Have you tried doing it on your own?” Gaara whispered, his voice sultry and deep.

“Y- yes…” You gasped softly under his touch. “A lot…”

A grunt escaped his lips as his stomach coiled tight with the lewd imagery of you teasing your pussy with your own fingers.“C- can I kiss you?”

“Yes…” You moaned softly as he steadied his rounded, rubbing pace against your arousal, alternating between pressing up and down the sides before tracing the inner of your slick itself, only to massage your clit once again. “I- I would love that. You can also play with my breasts, if you’d like…”

Gaara shifted your body a little bit by snaking his forearm behind your upper back, propping his elbow against the mattress before elevating your body by your shoulders as you ended up inching your face closer towards his; with your panting breath now fanning directly across his lips. After a soft, fleeting kiss against your lips, Gaara whispered breathily into your ear, “Lift up your shirt for me, angel.”

You shuddered in response, biting your lips shyly as you hooked your index and middle finger into the hem of the shirt before pulling on it upwards, revealing your naked teats before his eyes. “Hold your breast closer to my mouth…” Gaara mumbled against your ear before leaning his face downwards, snuggling in the side of his face against the suppleness of your breasts before taking in the perk nipple into his hot, wet mouth; eliciting a jolt out of your quivering body. You couldn’t help but cuss under your breath with how erotic it was to the sight to hold your breast for him as he suckled on it greedily.

Everything was starting to feel like you were drowning in a euphoric trance; Gaara, as nervous as he was, was more than willing to compensate for his lack of experience by being an excellent, attentive lover, an enthusiastic one at that; with how he was working your body inside out as if he was desperate to deliver you the utmost euphoria. Every timbre of moan, gasp, a soft mewl or a lustful groan of his name in response to what he was doing, he takes in all of it calculatingly. His pace and pressure has been steady up to this point, his index and middle finger as it being continuously bathed lasciviously by your juices while he rubbed circles against your pulsing clit allowed him to start hearing soft, wet schlick noises, and how your cunt seemed get wetter and wetter by the time he started to toy with your nipples simultaneously aroused him beyond belief.

He wasn’t one for dirty talk, but at least not yet at the moment, but his genuine curiosity at how your body ticks and reacts was something he couldn’t help but wonder about.

“You’re so… wet…”

You couldn’t help but moan under his ministrations; half of it being your honest response with what he just said. “B-because… what you’re doing… it feels so good.” Your body jolted upwards when he used the hand that was holding you by your shoulders to sneak in a teasing, left-to-right flick of his index finger against your other nipple. “Gaara…”

Gaara built up his suckling on your hardened nipple before releasing it in a slow, erotic pop. “Yes, my love?”

“I want you to…” You moaned breathlessly before him as you started to rub your palm against the back of his hand once again. “I want you to finger me…”

Gaara’s breathing hitched in response, the hot air leaking past his panting, open mouth sending shivers down your spine as it continued to fan against your bare neck as he looked up to you. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Insert it slowly, just one finger at first.”

“Do you want me to proceed after every instruction, or would you like me to hear everything first-“

“Gaara.” You chuckled against him, pressing the tips of your index and middle finger to loosen the wrinkle on his forehead as his face started to get serious once again.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled. “I’m just… worried that I might hurt you.”

“Well… slight discomfort might be something that should be expected, since… it is our first time after all… But, I mean…” You pulled your hand away from guiding his for a brief moment, tucking in a stray of hair behind his ear before pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead. “What I just want to say is, I trust you; I trust you a lot. I know that you will always take care of me no matter what.”

Gaara pouted slightly in response, as he couldn’t help but be so calm and comforted with how you talk to him like that. He just feels so at ease and loved throughout the whole process, at how understanding you were of him. “Tell me right away if you want me to stop, okay?”

You nodded at him with a smile. “I will, don’t worry.”

And with a reassuring nod from both of you at the same time, Gaara rubbed fleeting circles against your nub before slowly slipping in his index finger into your wet slick, sliding it inch by inch, with Gaara halting right at the middle. “You can go deeper.” You chuckled. Gaara followed your instruction, earning a soft sigh from you when it finally entered you fully.

“It’s so… soft.” Gaara mumbled, his voice laced with a hint of wandering curiosity.

“Yeah…” You whispered back with a sigh. “You can explore it, just be gentle and slow on making your way around.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really… since I’m very turned on at the moment…” You whispered shyly.

“Oh.” Gaara chuckled, his voice low and deep. A slight ‘o’ shaped your pucker as a blissful mewl escaped it when Gaara started to trace gentle, stirring motions inside your pussy, having it in intervals as he also stroked the upper walls of your cunt. Gaara took your response as a positive affirmation, making him a little more confident this time.

“S- slip in… another finger…” You mewled.

Gaara looked up to you, his face mixing in both parts of hesitance and impending lust. “Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded at him before another yet breathy groan left your panting mouth, as he begun to slowly insert his middle finger into you; the gradual stretch that followed becoming much more evident to feel. A whispered cuss followed through when you felt Gaara grind his clothed cock slightly against your thigh, as it started to get rock hard once again.

You ran your fingers down his chest, snaking down your palm against the plane of his stomach, tracing it downwards until you felt the waistband of his boxer shorts against your fingertips. With a sly smirk, you began rubbing your palm across his boxer shorts; feeling in the silhouette of his hardening arousal protrude through the fabric, making Gaara groan in response.

“Do this,” You gestured a sluggish ‘come hither’ movement with your fingers before returning it on top of Gaara’s boxer shorts. You moaned against him when he started to follow through, going for the gesture once, twice and thrice; retreating it out to rub teasingly against your clit before doing it again and again.

Schlick.

Even Gaara’s knuckles were soaking wet at this point, and he couldn’t help but have the curiosity in regards to how the taste of your pussy would roll on his tongue if he were to insert his fingers into his mouth. Gaara retreated his fingers, inching it closer to his face; parting his index and middle finger apart to see how far would the string of your wetness stretch out. In a lusftful daze, Gaara shoved his fingers into his mouth, suckling on it fervently; licking even the smallest trace of your arousal off of his digits.

Fuck, you taste so good.

Gaara raked his fingernails through the base of your scalp with his other hand, inhaling the scent of your locks as he continued to swallow in the sound of your sopping wet cunt being fingered and rubbed by his very own fingers. A gasp escaped his lips as he felt your palm crawl down underneath his boxers, and before he could muster a mewl of your name, you were already palming the pulsing body of his cock.

“Gaara…” You mewled desperately, making him shudder in response as he kept drowning deeper in the sweet sound of your moans. “I think I’m cumming, fuck…” You darted your eyes down, your heavy-lidded gaze taking in the erotic sight of his fingers entering and disappearing back and forth inside your cunt. The pleasure was beginning to get the best of you, and it wasn’t long until it began to overtake your sense of control over your own body; as your bliss-soaked cries began to get louder and louder to consort the increasing rock of your hips, almost riding against the curved digits that was plunging inside and out of your now tightening pussy. You took your hand from Gaara’s cock, sneaking in a desperate, circular strokes against your clit to coincide with his steadied fingering, “I’m cumming, Gaara! I’m-“ and with a loud, selfish scream of your lover’s name, you bucked your hips upwards; allowing your thighs to writhe and shake as you rode the heights of your orgasm in reckless abandon, whimpering Gaara’s name again and again until you could no longer muster anything incomprehensible. “Yes, yes… ahh…” You slapped your palm against your mouth, muffling out the continous drip of cries until it almost felt like you were choking on your unspoken euphoria as the length of your orgasm continued to render your body weak and shaking.

Fuck.

That felt so good…

“Y/N…”

Gaara was in shock.

His face might not reflect it at the moment, but he was genuinely stupefied by the intensity of it.

“Shit,” You cussed breathily as you tried your best to stablize your labored breathing. “Shit… that was amazing.” There was a hint of utter surprise in your remark as well, and it wasn’t long until you slapped your palms against your flushed cheeks as you began to laugh out of shock as well. “Fuck, did that just happen?”

Gaara sighed loudly as he slumped his back against the mattress, the realization hitting him just as hard as well like a punch on the gut. “Fuck.”

“What did you just-“ The way he cussed for the very first time made you completely erupt in laughter. You clutched your stomach as a slight hint of pain began to stir it, but when you tilted your head towards his face and you met Gaara’s gaze once again, you laughed even harder this time. You grabbed his arm by the wrist as you rested your weight on the side of your body, shifting your position and making him hug you from behind since your back was starting to feel a little sore and heavy. “I can’t believe you just said fuck.”

Gaara chuckled back as he playfully buried his face into the crook of your neck, eliciting a tickled reflex from you. He responded back by nuzzling his face deeper into the curve of it, nudging it left to right until both of you were giggling childishly together. “I loved it…” He whispered softly against the skin of your neck as he hugged you closer towards his body. The way his labored breathing started to calm down as you felt the heaving of his chest subside against your back relaxed you.

“You loved what?” You mumbled back as you entangled your fingers in between his digits, basking in the warmth and suppleness of his palm. You held his hand in front of your face, taking the sight of it with a loving smile as you closed your eyes before pressing a soft peck upon the back of it.

“The way… the way you get so into it…” Gaara retreated his hand briefly to tuck your hair behind your ear and to gently brush the remaining scattered mane away from your neck so that his face was directly pressing against your skin. He returned his hand back to your grip, entangling his fingers with yours on his own. You felt his chin rest upon the plane of your shoulders; his hot breath tickling your ear as he leaned even closer towards you. “Like you can’t get enough of it, like you want so much more… from me…”

“Gaara…” Your voice almost disappeared into thin air as a sigh tore through your sentence; the familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks as you began to feel something stiff pressing against your tailbone. An almost inaudible yelp escaped your lips as he pulled you even closer to him; his embrace getting tighter and tighter by the minute as his breathing began to function erratically once again.

Gaara’s body felt like it was being bathed in the warmth of a calm, burning flame. He felt so hot, so bothered, yet somehow the rising temperature seeps into his skin like a slow, gentle embrace. His chest and throat was beginning to feel dry and constricted, worsening his desperation to breathe. He could feel the deepening timbre of his heartbeat, and he would by lying if he said that he wasn’t terrified. This was all so new… so foreign, to him. Gaara didn’t know exactly how to respond to it; his rational thinking process wasn’t in tact, leaving him with nothing but a jumble of words and phrases that barely scratched the surface of how he really felt at that moment.

Underneath the shallows of his confusion, he somehow recognized that there was an epiphany beneath it all; its edges jagged and blurry, all because he tries so desperately to see his emotions through a concise, logical standpoint; the one he can easily explain, the one he can support with facts. He has a hard time allowing himself to feel something he can’t comprehend because it feels like it cripples his sense of control; and that alone scares him.

But that wasn’t what he needed, that wasn’t the one who’s going to help him at all.

He was now dealing with a language that his own body speaks for itself; a language that wouldn’t drip perfectly-worded explanations from the tip of his tongue.

He just needs… to feel it as it is.

Every last bit of it.

“I want it bare against me…” You whispered under your breath. Your remark earned an almost exasperated groan from your lover; the build-up of excitement coiling his stomach in an increasing grip making him bury his face deep into your shoulder. A gasp tore through your shallow breathing as you felt the familiar warmth of his cock embedding a girthy silhouette against your lower back.

“Ahh…” He moaned into your ear; the ring of pleasure bathing the timbre of his voice sending mutual shivers on yours and his own spine. He didn’t understand why, but it seemed like allowing himself to verbalize his carnal desires outspokenly somehow increased his sense of euphoria. The way that his bare cock grinded against the supple curve of your tailbone sent him towards the edge. “Y/N…”

You shifted your body upwards and deepened the curve of your back; offering your ass as an enthusiastic opportunity for luscious friction reserved for his private gratification. You stretched your hand behind you, your fingers tiptoeing lines all over his skin before planting a firm grip above his toned ass, giving it a sluggish, relaxing squeeze before resting your grasp above his hipbone as you helped him thrust his body forward. A deeper flush graced his face, the slight shock of having his backside squeezed and the fact that he moaned in response flustering him even more.

“Gaara?” You bit your lip, as you could you feel your heat starting to desire more and more.

“Y- yes…?” Gaara halted the grinding of his hips.

“Would you like to grind it against… me?”

“B- but I already… am…” The realization that chased his scrambled thoughts afterwards had hit him like a whiplash. “Oh…”

“Y- you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, of course.” You quickly followed up as you felt him slightly tense up behind you. You placed his hand in front of your face before giving it comforting, repeated pecks.

“Y/N…” Gaara mumbled breathily against you. “I want it, too…”

“Gaara…”

“Tell me…” Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat as his mouth began to feel drier. “Tell me… where you want me to grind against… I- I need to know that I did not misunderstand anything.”

If it even was possible, the warmth in your cheeks continued to burn even more.

“Uhm… g- grind it…” The scalding heat enveloping the rest of your body was starting to make you feel dizzy. “Against my pussy…”

“Shit.” He cussed breathlessly, his barely audible voiced laced down with a mix of panic and arousal.

The way your heartbeat sank your chest deeper in every pulse paralleled his own bodily reaction; yours and his own breathing loud and labored. A subtle yelp of anticipation left your panting mouth when you felt his palm run a linear path down behind your thigh; halting upon contact against the back of your knee before parting your thighs apart; assisting you to plant your foot behind his body. You couldn’t help but blush even harder at the lewd nature of your disposition.

…And the fact that you loved it like that made it even worse.

“A- are you sure that you really want to do this?” Gaara cooed into your ear.

You hooked your thumb into the waistband of his boxer shorts to tug it down even lower.

“I am, Gaara…”

You darted your gaze down below, a bite on your lip tearing through your moan as you felt the stiff silhouette of Gaara’s cock hovered in between your sopping folds. You rested your back against Gaara’s body, tilting your face towards him to meet his gaze; with a slight nod from you, Gaara took a deep breath before thrusting his hips upwards.

Ever so slow… and almost unbearably shallow.

“Ohh…” You mewled as the wet, spongy tip of his cock brushed briefly against your still, sensitive clit.

I guess it could be said that there was almost a certain feel of fullness to it. His cautious pace allowed you to take a fleeting sip of what is yet to be unraveled and, it’s doing nothing but make you beg for more. “Grind it deeper, Gaara… Please…”

Gaara’s face was in a continuous wince of bliss; as he couldn’t help but almost salivate pantingly in response to the overwhelming affection and sensation that he was currently taking in all for himself alone. He could feel himself shudder in pleasure as you started to get dripping wet once again; making it easier for his dick to grind up and down your soaking slit. The starting point of his thrust would begin at the sensitive area just below the actual entrance of your slick before having his veined, thick-girthed cock separate the folds of your cunt ever so deliciously. The suppleness of your labia clung onto his stiffened member with a bare hint of grip as he continued to rub it lewdly against you. Gaara planted kiss upon the roundness of your shoulder before resting his forefinger and middle finger on top of opposite sides of your folds before spreading them apart, having your throbbing clit further out exposed; making it much more easier for the tip of his cock to grind against your nub.

Again and again.

“Fuck…” You shut your eyes tight before fluttering them open once again, groaning at the sight of the pink tip of his stiffness peaking through your groin.

“I- I’m a my limit, Y/N…” Gaara whispered weakly, his breathing rendered erratic for worse. “I think I’m going to cum again…”

You did notice that his thrusts were getting sloppier and shaky, but you wanted to keep the momentum and steadiness in tact so that your lover gets the best out of his impending orgasm. “L- Lay down… on your back…”

With a flushed face and a gasping mouth, Gaara nudged his face affectionately against your cheek before pulling the pillows closer to him. He laid on his back, a sense of nervousness and anticipation peeking through his heavy lidded gaze. You tugged on the fabric of his boxer shorts before peeling them all the way down. You planted your knees down against the mattress, straddling either side of his hips. The hem of his shirt hung way too low on your body, so you decided to pull the fabric over your head and set it aside. Gaara couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly at such erotic sight of his fully naked beloved sitting on top of him. You leaned your body forward, placing your palm on top of the other as you rested it above his upper abdomen; the position of your arms rendering your tits squeezed together. “Y- you’re about to cum soon, right?”

“Y- yes, my love…” Gaara groaned as he began to feel your sopping flesh grind against him once again. The abundance of your juices rendered his groin and scarlet pubic hair to be glistening wet. You rocked your hips a little farther behind, allowing your cunt to not only stroke his pulsing cock, but his balls as well. A loud, uncontrolled moan tore through Gaara’s quiet cries when you began to thrust forward, the soft impact sending an electrifying jolt on his trembling body.

“K- keep going…” Gaara covered half of his face with his forearm, the intensity of watching you in such a compromising act becoming a little too overwhelming for him.

There was just something so… dirty and erotic about the whole thing. The fact that the act was nestling perfectly in between two, utterly separate things just felt so carnal. Both of you weren’t technically having sex, but at the same time, there was this bare feeling of your cunt being lusciously filled by the thick girth of his cock, and there was a teasing taste of what’s it’s like for his dick to be choked by the suppleness and wetness of your pussy. It was the state of not doing it but already feeling a rather addicting hint of it that drove both of you to the very edge.

“I’m cumming…” Gaara whimpered pantingly as he shrugged his shoulder tight, and with a firm, forward thrust of your body, Gaara shot his thick load all over his abdomen; some of it even reaching his chest. You retreated back your body to see how his dick trembled uncontrollably against his lower abdomen as it continued to spurt his thick cum before thrusting your pussy forward once again; earning a loud cry from Gaara’s panting mouth. His chest heaved up and down heavily, little breathy sighs of bliss escaping him as he let his orgasm run its course. “Ah… ahh… Y/N…” He mumbled in between his gasps.

Gaara flinched when he felt your index finger trace a line on top of his stomach. You brushed his forearm away from his hand so that he gets to see you tasting his cum of off your finger; the very sight of it covering his skin with goosebumps. Even with such an erotic face; you cracked a gentle, reassuring smile towards him before reaching out for his shirt, using the fabric to wipe the remaining cum off of his abdomen. Gaara’s eyes softened, the beat of his heart ringing with an affectionate and warm pulse as he watched you take care of him ever so gently. “That was great, Gaara…”

He didn’t understand why, his thought process at the moment was in deep shambles. Gaara thought that was all to it, but his chest was still getting warmer, and his stomach was still getting tighter. He was already begging himself to stop because it was becoming almost unbearable to feel, but his emotions still paced through and through. He was beginning to feel lightheaded due to his debilitating ability to breathe; worsening his impending meltdown, and with a soft caress of your hand on his cheek, and that ever so endearing, comforting smile; he might have shut his eyes tight as early as he was able to, but his tears were already streaming down his face.

A shocking jolt of panic sent your body to sit down beside him, your chest feeling like it was in a tight, choking grasp. “Hey, hey…” You whispered softly as you helped him sit down, relaxing his back against the headboard. You wrapped an arm behind his shoulders, cooing out affirming words as sobbed quietly into the back of his hand. You pulled him into a hug by the back of his neck, your other hand combing fingers through his hair as you pressed a kiss against his forehead. You felt his arm snake around your body from behind. “It’s okay, Gaara… I’m he-“

Your sentence was cut off when Gaara placed a soft grip on top of your jaw, gestured your face towards him, and pressed his lips against yours. Gaara’s kiss lingered with so much affection and longing that you couldn’t help succumb every bit of yourself to it. He propped his knee beside your opposite hip before shifting his position and situating his body on top of your lap without breaking the kiss even for a second. He was groaning audibly into your mouth as you were rendered almost drunk of how intoxicating the taste of his mouth was. You were already cornered by your lover as you felt the headboard press firm against your back, but Gaara was still shoving himself towards you, feral and starving as he lapped on your tongue selfishly.

“G- Gaara…” You whimpered breathlessly in between as he continued to tower over you, the sound of your wet mouth being explored by your lover’s tongue eagerly sending shivers down your spine. His kisses grew desperate by the minute as he chased the diminishing air in his lungs, and with a low growl, Gaara released you from his grasp; dropping his head down right away to his lap in order to avoid your gaze. The sound of his pants dominating over yours as his shoulder heaved up and down with his constricted chest. His knuckles turned white above his lap, a visible frustration being out in display as you stared at how he clenched his fists tightly into a ball. You reached out for it, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. His eyes softened at the sight; your caring gesture making him hold your hand in front of his face before pressing a kiss against the back of it, and before you know it, he has already leaned his body forward; lips brushing against yours in a much more gentle peck.

“I’m scared…” Gaara mumbled under his breath as he buried the side of his head into your neck, his face angled towards the side so he could speak clearly.

“Of what?” You replied worriedly.

“Of this.”

His answer felt like it jabbed a sharp sensation into your chest, but you swallowed your reaction to allow him to speak his mind. You stayed quiet, the silence you offered paving way for his faint, nervous sighs to be much more audible.

“I’m terrified of this, Y/N.” Gaara said weakly as he reached out for your hand and rested it above his heaving chest. Gaara landed his gaze down upon your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb as he allowed your palm to press contact against his skin. It was faint to the touch, but the familiarity of it made it easier for you to understand what he was trying to say. His heartbeat was slow, yet deep; the weight of its pulse making it harder to bear than a quick-paced one. It was a type that laced a hint of pain with how much love and affection it rung with.

You remained silent, but you brushed your lips on top of his sweat-dampened hair in hopes of relaxing him even just a little bit. He couldn’t help but shut his eyes tight as his chest hammered harder againt your palm; the smallest of your gestures enveloping him in so much tenderness that he had never had the luxury of receiving for so long.

“I had never felt something like this…” Gaara smiled to himself as he began to think of all the memories that you two had since the very beginning. “It’s so… warm… it feels like a lot of things all at once…” He chuckled as his words began to run out again. It was frustrating to not be able to express one’s self eloquently, but he was so flustered at the moment that he was beginning to derive the slightest humor in it. “I have never felt such joy, but at the same time, I have never felt such dread…”

You stroked his hair with your fingertips, not even a word leaving your mouth to allow him to speak comfortably.

“It feels like it’s reaching out to me, like it’s telling me that it was fine… it was a safe space that I can be vulnerable around with once again.” He breathed in before speaking once again.” That I can be happy without having to put up… so many walls…” His voice almost seemed like it was about to disappear into thin air. “But at the same time, I do know that once it disappears, I will never be the same again; and that terrifies me.”

“Gaara…”

“But… do remember that you don’t have to return my feelings for the rest of your life, you don’t have to promise me anything.” He mumbled with a weak smile. “I am already more than grateful for what you have graced my life with.”

Your chest got heavier and heavier by the second as you continued to listen to your lover.

“When the time comes… where being with me harbors nothing but pain and loneliness, you are free to be on your own.” He whispered faintly against you, his words becoming harder to discern in between his choked sniffle and heavy breathing. “I will not take that away from you, my love.”

“Gaara…” Your voice croaked as your tears began to swell up on the corner of your eyes. You knew it yourself that if he says another word, your crippled control over your emotions would fail completely.

“Either way, no matter where you choose to go,” Gaara pulled back his face from your shoulder, returning his gentle caress on the side of your cheek before pressing a kiss against your forehead. “For me, it will always be you.”

Your eyes fluttered open briefly before shutting them tight once again as your tears began to stream down your cheeks. In one swift motion, you pulled Gaara downwards and dove your face forward for a kiss. He entangled his fingers deep into your locks, his grip laced with a gentle firmness as you reciprocated it by wrapping your arms behind his nape to pull him closer to you. “I’m scared, too…” You whispered weakly in between his kisses. “But I can’t help it, Gaara. I just can’t.” You sniffled in between as you continued to tug his body downwards until you were once again in the same position as you were earlier; back pressed hard against the headboard, mouth wide open, breathless. “I love you, Gaara.”

Gaara growled lowly into your mouth as your words continued to set his body in flames. Hearing it again jabbed a crippling shot against his sense of control. “I love you…” You continued to moan pantingly beneath him.

“Please…” Gaara pleaded softly as he grew weaker and weaker by the minute, his voice cracking upon his pleas.

“I love you, Gaara… I really do…” Your voice broke as you stroked his cheeks softly.

Underneath the entrancing, lingering stare he has you under, there was a deep-seated conflict that resides within himself. It was a beautiful imagery that he found himself embedding deep into his mind; the way your lips curved and parted as those three words left your mouth. He kept hearing it,; the exact, gentle timbre of your voice, despite the fact that you were now silently breathing under him as you stared back at him adoringly. It feels like he was nakedly vulnerable against it, it feels like a trance that’ll make him succumb every bit of himself just to hear it once again.

Gaara dove his face forward, his kisses emanating nothing but pure need, a raw desperation to remind himself that this was indeed happening, that this was his reality now; that after all the years he has suffered alone, he was now finally given the very chance to fall in love and to be loved back ever so genuinely. “You’re really here, right?” Gaara mumbled desperately in between his fervent kisses as he snaked his hand behind the back of your head, entangling his fingers through your locks gently as he angled your face better for a much more deeper kiss. He closed his eyes before leaning for another kiss, nibbling and sucking on your lip; swallowing your taste hungrily as if he wanted to own you all for himself. “When I wake up tomorrow, you’ll still be here with me, right?”

The further you swam in the very depths of his affections, the more you it terrified you; as his deepest conflicts and resolutions mirrored exactly how you felt about him; and to be so mutually entwined with one another almost felt too good to be true.

But, it was.

It was the truth.

“I’m never going to leave you,” You whispered back as you stroked the side of his face with your fingers, tucking in strays of his beautiful, red locks as you returned the urgency of his kisses ever so passionately. “When you wake up tomorrow, I’ll be the first one you’ll see. When you sleep tomorrow night, I’ll be the last one you’ll see. I promise, Gaara. I promise you that. You’re not going to be alone anymore, I’ll always be with you no matter what.”

His tears flew free now, basking in every ounce of emotions that he has repressed for so long. He was right, he thought to himself. Love really did feel like a lot of things happening all at once. He had never felt so free, adored, terrified, yet ironically calm at the same time. It was a complex emotion that so fucking consuming, and he no longer bring himself to stop. He had never felt so willing to surrender himself without any ounce of doubt.

A genuine smile graced his tear-stained face, a grin so truthful that he couldn’t help but bask it in with his eyes closed as he continued to press pecking kisses upon your wet face. “Take me as you please. I am yours, forever.” He held your knuckles in front of his face, fluttering his eyes closed as he dropped kisses on it endearingly.

“Take me as you please, too…” You mumbled with a soft smile before wrapping your forearms behind his neck once again, tugging his body down as you laid your back once again on top of the mattress. You raked your fingers through the base of his scalp as you continued to swallow his wet groans into your open mouth, moaning just as blissfully as his kisses continued set your body in fire. You pulled back from the fervent kiss, darting the tip of your tongue out to lick a path up his throat; making Gaara shudder breathlessly as he felt your pucker nibble and suckle the edge of his jaw before biting in softly the spot below his neck.

Gaara snaked his hand behind your nape, interlocking his fingers with your locks and planting a firm fist of it as he pulled it backwards, allowing him lap on the skin of neck your selfishly. A sudden moan from his wet mouth vibrated against your skin when you sank his hips lower and you bucked your body upwards to have a sly grind of your soaking slit against his now hardening cock. “Gaara…” You mewled breathlessly under him as he began to thrust his hips in return, the familiar feeling of having his member rub against you once again eliciting strings of curses from your lips. You halted for a moment, striking an unwavering gaze towards his own heavy-lidded eyes as both of you exchanged hot exhales of breath. “I’m… ready…”

The paralysing beat of his heart began to pound once again. “Y/N…”

“I’m ready, Gaara…” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek. “I’m yours, forever…”

Gaara was not speaking, he was just breathing heavily above you; scarlet locks framing his beautiful face messily. His eyes spoke a thousand of words that will probably never leave his mouth, yet somehow, hearing it wasn’t something you needed at all just to understood what he wanted to say. His glassy, seafoam eyes continued to tear through you ever so seductively yet endearingly. It’s cripplingly intimidating yet ironically comforting at the same time. It was a pile of irony that you’ll probably never be able to explain in this lifetime. It wasn’t simply black and white…

He really was just simply a million of beautifully-threaded complexities.

“Make love with me…” You whispered lovingly underneath him.

Your words sent his brain into a haywire; the shock setting in making his chest heave nervously. Gaara swallowed a gulp before taking in a sharp breath. “Did I hear you right, my love?” He mumbled with an almost chuckling voice as manifested by a flustering panic.

You nodded before giggling back at his cuteness.

Gaara held your face by your jaw, his thumb gently rubbing against your wet lower lip. “Let me hear it again, my love… just so I am sure…”

You bit his thumb playfully; the surprised, wince of pain in his facial expression that made his one eye close making your heart beat faster. Gaara pulled back his thumb from your lips before plunging it into his mouth, sucking off the small trails of your saliva clinging onto it. “I’m listening.”

Your gaze drifted to the side before meeting his steady stare once again. “M… make love with me, Gaara…” The sudden realization hit you, making you whisper a soft “shit” under your breath, rendering your lover’s forehead furrow in confusion. “I… uh… That’s not really my decision alone. I mean, only if you’re ready. W- we don’t have to-“

Gaara pressed a firmer kiss this time, nibbling your lower lip into his mouth before parting your pucker apart with his curious tongue.

“You… really have the best way… of cutting me off when I speak…” You whispered in between his kisses, the way both his hands held either sides of your jaw in place with a gentle hint of possessiveness reigniting the warmth in your stomach. Your amused, chuckling giggle against his kiss embedded a soft grin on his mouth as well. Gaara pulled back from the kiss with a gentle smile gracing his flushed face. He did not cry for long, but his nose was already flushed red; eyes a little swollen and pink. An embarrassed chuckle from your lover tore through the brief silence of just staring at each other.

“I am ready…” He whispered to you. “But are you… really ready, tonight?” His arms was starting to get sore from carrying the weight of his body so he nestled his body softly above you. Gaara traced a line upon your cheek with the tip of his nose, before speaking once again. “Are you on protection? I might get you…” His breathing becoming gradually erratic, his voice ringing even deeper this time “…pregnant.”

“Shit…” You whispered breathlessly, the warmth in your cheeks getting more botheringly scalding. Your cuss elicited a deep, amused chuckle from your lover. Knowing that a part of why he said it like that was to tease you a little, and you knew better than to not clap back. “There’s no need to worry. You can cum inside me all you want.” You mumbled seductively, easily eliciting a flustered groan from your lover.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“W- would it be okay if… y- you were on top?” He asked, his voice a little shaky and worried. “I just… I just thought that such position would allow you to have a better control on how you want it to go… I want to give you that choice; I don’t want to hurt you, my love.”

Your chest fluttered at his caring words. “Stop making me fall in love with you more, Gaara. I wouldn’t be able to get out of it if you keep doing that.”

“Well… that is the point.” He chuckled before laying his back against the headboard and gripping you softly by your waist as you sat down above his lap. Gaara asked you to bent over slightly towards him, the curve of your spine pushing your ass up in the air as you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and buried your face into his neck. “I’ll make sure you’ll never get out of it.” Gaara whispered to your ear before plunging his index and middle finger into his mouth, coating it abundantly with his saliva before reaching out for the increasing heat resting between your legs. Acting upon what you have taught him, Gaara teased the either sides of your labia first; his touch barely even hovering with how light it was. In every passing second, the pads of his fingers began to gradually sink a little deeper against your skin; a look of subtle wonder gracing his face as he felt the muscle tense up bit by bit as he continued to stroke it. You spat on your palm before snaking it towards his groin, and before Gaara could moan back, you were already working his cock with your sloppy fist.

Gaara began to rub the length of his digits from left to right upon the sensitive center of the slit, the sly gesture resulting to a wet, slapping sound that made his cock twitch harder in between your sensually-pumping fist. Gaara traced a vertical path towards your throbbing clit before teasingly flicking the tip of his middle finger upon it. It wasn’t long until he began knead circular strokes against your nub, the intensity of its pressure crawling gradually as he swallowed your mewls of bliss directly into his ear.

“Finger me…” You panted as you redirected your face towards him. “Please…”

Gaara’s breathing hitched after hearing you beg. With a soft nudge of Gaara’s face bumping against yours, he carefully inserted his index finger into your pussy, a jolt of euphoria shaking your composure when the side of the knuckle of his middle finger brushed against your clit as he allowed your walls to get used to the feeling of his lone digit nestling inside. It wasn’t long until Gaara plunged his middle finger inside as well, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you continued to play with his stiffening cock in return.

Although his fingering was still very, very cautious, he was starting to get the hang of it, and is now slowly getting the confidence in himself that he could make you feel good under his touch. He maneuvered his digits gently in a stirring motion, and the way your walls wrapped around his fingers wetly and tightly was a sensation he was starting to get addicted to. Gaara’s cock was now significantly erected at this point, its pink tip beginning to erupt with a clear, slippery pre-cum that made his cock glisten wet under the soft light in the room. When he began to the flick his index and middle finger to stroke your sensitive spot, you began to lose your focus on toying with his dick.

Surprisingly, Gaara wasn’t just shoving his fingers back and forth. It was as if his cautious, patient nature rendered him to not be impulsive on his foreplay. He was taking his sweet… sweet time, his hand on your jaw caressing your face as he whispered how pretty you were; the tender, endearing words leaving his lips coinciding erotically with how slow and sensual he was; the thrust of his fingers hinting enough firmness, curling it up as he applied the perfect pressure against to elicit your impending cum bit by bit from your cunt. Not being able to bear it anymore, you crawled your lips towards his ear and gave him your permission.

“Gaara… I’m ready…”

With his chest tightening even harder with your voice dripping off like a sweet honey from an overpouring pot, Gaara pressed a soft kiss against your cheek. “Thank you… for trusting me…” He whispered with sa smile. Gaara assisted you once again in a sitting position, his erected cock pressing against your lower abdomen this time. “I- I promise… I wouldn’t do anything that will hurt you. Tell me everything, okay?”

You nodded before him with a reassuring smile. You lifted your body off of his lap before gripping the base of his cock, holding it in place as you grinded your clit against the tip of it before redirecting its angle and slowly taking it in inside of you.

You sighed breathlessly as you dropped your gaze down his cock, with the pink, wet tip of it slowly disappearing into your tight, wet cunt. Gaara carefully held you on place with his faint grip on your waist, the contortion of pain upon your beautiful face rendering him worried; but he trusted you as much you do with him. You bit your lip as you began to sink your body deeper into his length, the thick girth of his cock beginning to topple immensely in comparison to what his fingers had to offer. “S- so… big… Gaara…” You mumbled erotically, your remark reddening Gaara’s face for worse as he felt his cock twitch harder with how you complimented him like that.

There was an immense pressure that pooled upon your lower abdomen; a hint of pain in it, a burning discomfort as you may say. You shoved two fingers into your mouth before snaking it down towards your clit, rubbing it slowly and simultaneously as you continued to swallow in his cock into your pussy in order to ease yourself off of the discomfort. Gaara’s gaze dropped to the side, still wasn’t used to seeing you it right before his eyes for you to play with yourself like that while you’re literally shoving his dick right into your cunt. When you finally took in the rest of his length, your upper body collapsed above him alongside a relieved sigh ripping from your chest.

“Take your time, my love…” Gaara cooed sweetly as he brushed your hair away from your face before dropping a kiss against your forehead. “Y- you’re doing great, okay?”

His last sentence made your giggle against his neck.

“I’m sorry…”

“Aww, I didn’t mean it like that...” You propped your forearms against on both opposite planes of his shoulder before bumping your forehead against his. “In fact, I actually felt incredibly motivated.”

Gaara had a small pout on his lips. “You are being… sarcastic…”

“I’m not!” You pouted back before nudging your face against him playfully. “And I’d like to say that you’re doing great, too…” You giggled before pressing a kiss against his nose. “So, uh… what do you think, about this?”

He hummed in thought and cleared his throat, the flush in his cheeks getting tad bit deeper. “It’s so hot… inside you…” Gaara mumbled, his voice hinting with curiosity. “Soft, and tight…” The fact that he was literally describing how his lover’s cunt felt around his dick was enough to sent him to the edge.

“D- does it feel good?”

Gaara nodded bashfully, a gasp tearing through his supposed shut mouth when you grinded your hips teasingly against him.

“You feel good, too…” You replied. The burning sensation was starting to dissipate bit by bit, a tiny presence of it lingering still but the feeling of fullness was starting to arouse you more. “I’m going to start… moving a bit…” You mused, and with a nod from Gaara, he helped you buck your body upwards, allowing your slick to grind against the girth of his cock to increase your arousal even harder. “S- steady your cock in place, Gaara…” The way your words rolled off from the tip of your tongue made Gaara groan in response. He gripped the base of it immediately, gaze straight upon as he watched your pussy sank down to swallow in his dick; the familiar warmth and wetness making his face wince in bliss; making him cuss even louder when he darted his stare upon your face, a trace of euphoria gracing it as you felt the gradual pleasure nestling in between the pressure of his cock reentering your cunt.

“Ahh…” You moaned shakily, a satisfied sigh exiting your panting mouth before both of you groaned almost in unison when you stirred your hips in a circular motion, allowing the whole length of it to grind against the unexplored, sensitive spots all over in one move. Gaara couldn’t help the soft hiss that left him as the tightness of your pussy choked his cock even more. You planted a firm grip on his shoulder before raising your body once again and allowing yourself to get used to the newly-discovered euphoria of having your pussy by stretched deliciously bit by bit by the scalding, thick girth of his veined cock. “Gaara… fuck…”

Although drowning in bliss at the same time, his concern for you didn’t even blur for a second. “D- does it still hurt?” His voice gentle and sweet.

“A- a little bit sore, yeah…” You murmured back. “But it’s… it’s beginning to feel better, I think…”

“Can I do anything… that might help ease the pain?” Gaara wanted to touch you; he wanted to play with your breasts or stroke your clit in between, theorizing that the pleasure of such acts might distract you from the pain. But initiation wasn’t something that has sat comfortably inside his resolve just yet, and the last thing he wanted was to do something that’ll make it harder for you to adjust. “Tell me anything, I- I’ll do it, my love.”

“Kiss me…” You mumbled breathlessly. “Play with my body… everything you did earlier to make me feel good, y- you can do it.” Towering over him, you began to initiate a kiss, your tongue eagerly exploring the rest of his panting cavern. You felt his grip leave your waist, the suppleness of his palm spreading warmth down your hips before wandering gesture began to squeeze your ass. The way his pressured knead sank into your muscle almost sedated you to utter relaxation. “I love that…” You mewled against his mouth before leaving a teasing bite on his lower lip. “I’m going to start moving now.” You mumbled before beginning to rock your hips back and forth.

“Damn it.” Gaara cursed under his breath as the sight of your naked, glistening body on top of him, and the way his cock disappeared into the wetness of your pussy flashed before his very own eyes. A sight so erotic, a sensation so pleasurable, that he was beginning to blur his sense of control as he began to grab your ass a little harder.

You were beginning to get the hang of it, as the thought alone in itself of making love with Gaara started to bathe your body in bliss. Apart from the literal pleasure that your body is going through at the moment, to hear him moan your moan, to see his flushed face; forehead furrowed, eyes shut tight and a firm bite on his lip was another form of indirect stimulation that made your body writhe in bliss. With your back starting to feel sore from leaning over, you arched your spine, hands placing a grip on his knees before planting both of your knees inches before the opposite sides of his hips, spreading yourself wide open for his eyes to feast on.

“Shit…” Gaara whispered with a shaky voice.

“It feels so good…” You kept mewling, your throat beginning to feel drier by the minute.

“Ahh… ahh, Y/N…” Gaara moaned louder as you began to rock your hips in a steadying pace that had his arousal being milked tight on a carnal static. The sight of your tits bouncing up and down was a very sensual visual that he kept swallowing all for himself, and an even louder cuss left his panting mouth when you caught a peek of your swollen clit protruding through your folds. Taking back a hand from your ass, Gaara shoved his thumb into his mouth, suckling and covering it abundantly with spit before pressing his palm against your groin, stretching his hand out so his thumb is able to reach your throbbing nub. A loud moan screa m of his name escaped you, sending him in a jolt-awakening panic.

“N- no no no, please… keep going.” You moaned above him, your nails sinking into his thighs as the sensation of your impending orgasm began to crawl. “Please, please. Keep going, Gaara.” You cried out.

With a firm gulp, Gaara resumed his gesture. He shifted his initial approach, with his hand now laying a grasp on your inner thigh as his thumb sneaked in lewd, kneading circles against your pulsing nub. The sensation of your clitoris being toyed with adding to his cock stroking the circumference of your entire sensitive cunt, the familiar knot in your lower abdomen began to thrive; the burning eagerness to chase it embedding itself so fucking deep into your skin. You repositioned your body, your hands now gripping the plane of his shoulders as every firm bounce of your body sinking him deeper and deeper into the mattress. The weight of your body clashing down on him was another yet sensation he was starting to get addicted to. The words that wanted to leave his mouth at the moment was something he’s barely holding on to suppress.

The urgency was getting the best of you, but the rougher you chased it, the easier it made for Gaara’s to feel his orgasm dawning upon him. It was too much, just too much. Every inch of his body was starting to feel immensely sensitive and you yourself began to notice that his cock was starting to swell so much harder inside your cunt. Gaara was trying his best, but overwhelming sensation was starting to cripple all kinds of autonomy that he had on his body. The rub on your clit was starting to get unsteady, and it was as if Gaara was almost starting to pull his body away from you with the mind-numbing stimulation that had him throwing his head back against the pillow as he unconsciously bucked his hips upwards. “Y/N…”

It felt like a never-ending stack of pleasure that continued to pile over one another until he couldn’t breathe. He was almost ready to beg his own cock to just cum already because it was starting to feel so much to take. The foreign euphoria that was penetrating every bit of pore on his skin for the first time almost broke him.

“Y/N!” He growled underneath you.

Your focus on your orgasm wavered as soon as you heard what was leaving his mouth.

His moans were so fucking hot.

His voice rang with utter haste, almost breaking in desperation as he tried to apologize profusely that he was going to cum earlier than you. You kept your pace steady and firm, more than eager to provide him yourself the very first coital orgasm of his life. “Please, please kiss me, my love.” He begged with an open mouth, a dribble of saliva beginning to stain the corner of his lip. Before you could even muster a reply, he had already pulled you down with his arms wrapped behind your neck, sloppily letting his tongue lick everything he could as his thought process began to crumble for worse. When you noticed him starting to lose his breath, you pulled back from his lips and pressed your forehead against him, allowing the hot, shallow inhale and exhales of air fan across your equally gasping mouth. His chest, throat and face were flushed bright red as he continued to writhe beneath you.

“I- I’m cumming, Y/N…” Gaara rubbed his face needily against yours.

“I love you, Gaara.” You whispered back.

And that was it.

The last straw of fervent intimacy that drove him straight towards the edge.

“I’m yours,” He mumbled desperately in a hush as his face contorted with the deepest form of euphoria that had him furrowing his forehead and shutting his eyes tighter than ever. He fluttered them open once again, his glassy, seafoam eyes tearing through you in a passionate daze. “please… please t- tell me that I belong to you, Y/N...” He pleaded, his voice cracking in desperation as he felt another wave of tears swelling on both corners of his eyes once again.

“You’re mine, Gaara.” You moaned back breathlessly. “Y- you belong with me, you belong with me forever…”

He cried out again and again and with the last downward thrust of your hips colliding with his, his body shook beneath you, his toes curling in bliss before dragging his feet towards his body, the rise of his thighs elevating you slightly. Under his orgasmic instinct, Gaara shoved his hips upwards, burying his cock deeper into you as strings of hot cum exploded deep inside your cunt. Your eyes widened at the sensation; his cock was at its most rigid state and it was twitching so fucking hard you can feel it pulse against your walls. The pure sensuality of having your lover bury his cum deep inside you was a whole new level of intimacy and affection. Knowing that your orgasm was just a nudge away from coming; you slipped off of his dick, the thick cum leaving down your pussy adding another form of lubrication as you began to grind your slit desperately against his girth; and with a firm, fifth thrust, a powerful orgasm began to wash over you. You gripped the base of his cock and reinserted his still cumming dick into your cunt, the hard, clamping motion of your walls choking his length eliciting some of the remaining cum from his arousal. Your body writhed above him desperately, not even a moan leaving your mouth as the utter, raw bliss was so intense that you couldn’t even muster a slightest sound. You collapse onto him, both of you panting heavily as the immense, euphoric shock continued to linger inside the two of you.

Both of you whispered each other’s name endearingly in content.

There was a comfortable silence that tied you both beautifully, a moment where everything just felt so raw and perfect that no words were ever needed to leave each other’s lips. A faint sniffle woke you out of your stupor, and before you could even redirect your face towards him, Gaara hugged you tight to his chest.

“I don’t know why… I keep tearing up like this…” He chuckled as he nestled his face into your locks, his voice cracking up a little.

You hugged him even tighter, and when he heard a barely audible sob from you; evidenced by the feeling of dampness staining his chest wet, his chest throbbed harder and another yet quiet cry he desperately tried to restrain had left him once again.

You shifted in your position, situating your self next to him as you laid your weight on the side of your body. Gaara proceeded to mirror your angle, as you two are now facing each other directly with both, gentle smiles upon your tear-stained faces. He held your hand against his chest; allowing you to feel the very beat of his heart; calm, deep, and genuinely affectionate. What he proceeded to do after a soft, weak smile shakened your entire resolve.

“I love you…” He mouthed silently before curling his lips in another yet genuine smile.

Audible words had never left his mouth, but if there’s one thing you almost heard, it was the beat of his heart that throbbed even harder after those three words as he held your hand tighter against his chest.

“I feel so scared that I can’t say it,” He slowly mouthed once again before chuckling weakly. “But I love you, Y/N…”

“I love you, too…” You mouthed back with a soft giggle as you used your other hand to stroke his tear-stained cheeks; your eyes barely fluttering open as you allowed yourself to bask in every ounce of emotions you were going through at the moment, and suddenly…

It was harder to breathe.

You were beyond stunned, the overpouring emotions you did not expect for had suddenly washed all over you, body and soul, and it has robbed you off of even the tiniest bit of chance to speak.

There was nothing, really.

Nothing but heavy breathing, a shared grace of a gentle, fulfilled smile between the two of you, an affectionate nudge of your equally-flushed cheek against his as you allowed yourself to have the warm of his face plant soft kisses upon your skin.

It was as if everything had stopped, and there was nothing in this world at this very moment that mattered but you, and him.

Gaara’s hands roamed, fingertips laced with prudence yet ardent need to know you, to feel you, to be one, with you.

The connection binding the two of you began to feel ethereally transcedental…

…And Gaara felt it, too.

“Do you feel it, too?” Gaara whispered weakly, his eyes gentle and loving as he reached for your wrist and held your hand in front of his face. He shut his eyes closed before placing an endearing kiss upon the back of it; his pucker brushing soft pecks upon every tip of your five fingers before carefully dragging his kisses down your palm. Gaara’s eyes fluttered open to take in the beautiful sight of your face as you watched him caress your wrist with his soft, wet lips.

Gaara had the utmost respect towards you. He viewed with the highest reverence, and he had always seen you as strong, independent person.

But tonight…

Tonight was different.

He never knew he could feel so much for someone until he met you, but at this moment, everything he had ever known was almost incomparable to what he feels at this very moment. You were a gift to him. To feel your warm, supple skin, to hear you breath, to listen to your voice… was a gift. He was looking directly through the uttermost tenderness inside of you, a sense of delicateness residing within your very soul that has ignited the fire inside of him to to love and protect at all costs.

“I feel it too, Gaara…” You whispered endearingly before planting a soft kiss against his lips and pressing your forehead against his. “If you’ll have me, I would give my life to protect you, too.”

Your words made his chest tighten, and before you knew it, he was already holding your body against him; an arm snaking in between the side of your head and the mattress as he pulled you closer towards him. Gaara caressed the supple, roundness of your shoulder, tiptoeing the tips of his digits down the blades of it before petting you by your hair and kissing your forehead gently. “I will always keep you safe, no matter what.” He whispered.

Noticing the slight shudder on your skin, Gaara reached out for the blanket laying messily in between your bodies. With a gradually increasing loudness of cute, annoyed grunts as he tried to yank it out freely under his body, he was finally able to cover the halves of both of your nakedness under it. You couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement, but also blush at how endearing his gesture was.

“I feel so sticky right now.” You giggled. Gaara had that “me, too” look on his face despite the lack of verbal reply. “We went to bed at like… 10 PM.” You stared at your fingers as you tried to count. “It was probably around 2 AM when you woke up… It’s probably quarter to four now.”

“I think so too, yes…” Gaara chuckled back weakly. There was an obvious heaviness in his lids, but he still wanted to talk about what just happened. He wasn’t one to ask such daring questions, but it was as if some parts of him had improved for the better; it felt like he was more than willing now to initiate communication with you. “So… uhm, Y/N…” He trailed off. “How did it… feel?” Gaara asked, his voice a little nervous.

You hummed in thought. “Hmm… how do I put it in words…” You thought out loud as you traced lines and circles upon his naked chest.

Truth be told, it was probably something you could never, ever explain justifyingly with words alone.

As you continued your inward search for the perfect word, Gaara began to speak.

“I feel so connected… with you.” He whispered lovingly, his eyes gentle and endearing. “Body and soul…”

With a soft kiss and on his lips and an easing caress on his face, you pulled him closer to you as he began to nestle his face against the warm solace of your skin.

“And I feel so connected with you, too…” You repeated softly before caressing the back of his head as he began to fall asleep. “Body and soul…”

Your head throbbed painfully when you fluttered your eyes open and the not so gentle rays of the sun began to peek through the slight gaps in between the curtains. You quickly glued your eyes shut; and with the increasing awareness of your surroundings as your system began to wake itself up, you were almost shocked at the fact that there was still a familiar warmth and weight pressing upon your naked body at this time of the morning.

You were now lying on your back, and when you tilted your head towards your lover, you couldn’t help but giggle softly at such beautiful, rare sight.

The side of his face nestled upon the upper part of your breast, a heavy hand and leg pinning you down against the mattress, almost leaving you with no chance of escape. He had never looked so etheareally peaceful to you until now, eyes not so loosely shut and lips in a soft, curled pout. On top of that, this might just be the very first moment that you learned that Gaara actually snores… A really soft, baby snore, though. You couldn’t help but giggle when you noticed how there’s new, darker ray of eyebags pooling below his eyes… which is probably mirrored by yours, too.

Guess that’s what you get, making love so deep into the night where the moon itself is already close to losing its shine.

A soft, inward groan never left his lips but it was audible enough to hear, carving a deep smile upon your lips once more.

Finally, a very… deep, undisturbed sleep that he utmostly deserved.

You stayed still, even though your body was beginning to feel sore, apart from the expected one resting in between your legs; just in hopes of maintaining the relaxation he was currently pampering himself with.

Gaara really needed that more than anyone.

When he began to shift his body, and turned his back on you in a still, deep stupor, you began to carefully sit up and grab your discarded shirt off of the floor to walk to the bathroom.

After refilling the glass with water to bring on your way back towards the bedroom to give to Gaara once he wakes up, you took a short re-route towards the living room and sat upon the couch; dialing Temari’s number on the telephone before pressing the cold metal disk of its diaphraghm against your ear.

“Oh, finally!” You heard the familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“Good morning, Tem!” You greeted happily.

“Good mor- Oh?“ Temari’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “Y/N?”

“Yep.” You chuckled.

Temari chuckled back meaningfully at the surprising revelation, the familiar, teasing tone becoming something that was easy for you to discern.

“Come on, is it really that much of a shocker?”

“It is.” She replied amusingly. “The earliest you usually get up from bed is 10 am. You have beaten your record,” she shot a look towards the wall clock on her living room. “it’s 9:50 AM now.”

“How do you even know that?” You tried your best to stifle your usual, kinda’ loud voice when talking with her.

“Just a hunch.” Temari grinned. “Gaara had been asking me lately if there was a way he could maintain the warmth of the pancakes and coffee he makes for you at 6 AM. He says he doesn’t want you to have it cold because it might upset your stomach, but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to wake you up or to leave it up to you to cook your own breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but blush when you realized another yet undiscovered ways of how Gaara tries to show how much he loves you.

“By the way,” She cleared her throat as she shrugged her shoulder towards her, pinning the telephone against her ear as she tried to pull half of her locks into a side ponytail. “I have been ringing you guys for the last two hours. I was actually about to go on my way there to check up on the two of you because Gaara usually leaves for work at 6:30. It’s weird that he’s late.”

“Oh… uhm,” You couldn’t help but smile giddily like a teenager to yourself. “I’m sorry for not being able to answer right away. I called, too, because I was about to ask you if Gaara could take half the day off.”

“Why? Is he okay? Does he feel sick?”

“No… he’s just, sleeping really, really good right now.” You slumped your back against the sofa. “Like, the kind of good that’ll make you feel guilty if you wake him up from it. Out of all people, you do know the best that his sleeping schedule is still troubled.”

“I see…” Temari smiled gently to herself, her chest warming up at the thought of her baby brother being able to rest easy as he thoroughly deserves. “It’s okay. I could run some of his errands for him to ease his workload for today. I’m really glad to hear that Gaara’s sleeping well.”

“Yeah…” You grinned softly as you raked your fingers through your messy bedhair in hopes of fixing it up. “He’s pretty tired.”

“Tired?” Temari asked surprisingly. “He didn’t have much to do… yesteday…”

As sharp as she ever was, it was almost scary with how good she was at deducing things.

“So… what baby names are you choosing from?”

“Tem!”

Temari laughed hard from the other line. “I have leftover waffles here. I’ll hang the bag on the door knob, you don’t have to get up to greet me if ever you end up going back to sleep.”

“Thank you so much, Tem…” You couldn’t help but feel so thankful for how kind she was to you.

“No,” Temari said with a soft smile. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Tem…”

“Gaara loves you very much, Y/N.” Temari spoke so gently. “Thank you for giving him the chance to feel like that.”

After exhanging goodbyes, you flinched in your seat when someone grabbed and placed the telephone back on its cradle on your behalf.

“Do I have to carry you back to the bed?” Gaara mumbled, his voice a little grumpy. Before you could even answer, he had already made his way from the back the back of the couch, firm strong hands lifting you up from the cushion of the couch as carried you back towards the bedroom.

“Is this why you always try to wake up earlier than me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you one of those people who are grumpy as hell when they wake up?” You teased.

Gaara dropped your body onto the mattress, the surprising edge of roughness in his action making your chest flutter in excitement. The heat between your legs started to burn harder when he towered over you, the familiar weight of his body cornering you down against the bed. “When you said… last night…” A satisfying yawn ripped from his chest before he pinned your hand softly against the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles above your palm; the other hand stroking the side of your face softly as he leaned his face closer. “That you will be first thing I’d see when I wake up, I took it to the heart. But what I saw… was my boxer shorts…” His sudden, surprising dominance broke as he ended up giggling softly against the skin of your neck. You snorted back with a laughter, the odd, funny noise making him chuckle again.

“I called Tem… I asked her if you could come in a little late today. You looked like you were having the best sleep of your life, and I couldn’t bear to be the one who takes it away from you.”

“It really did…felt amazing.” He sighed, the way he breathed out hinting satisfaction on his end.

“The sleep?” You mused. “Or what happened before the sleep?”

Gaara buried his now flushed face deeper into your neck as he began to remember everything that took in place night.

Vividly.

“I’m sorry, though…” You whispered gently. “I didn’t mean to have your unromantic boxer shorts to be the first one you see in the morning.” You felt a smile against your neck before he props his chin above your chest, the vibration of your giggle pressing against his skin. “Would you get mad if I do it again? What if I had to pee?”

“You think I have the capacity to be that possessive?” Gaara asked, his voice hinting with amusement.

“I think you’d let me pee.” You smiled at him before brushing the messy locks from blocking the view of his eyes.

“I will.” Gaara began to press soft, pecking kisses upon your breast before dragging his lips in a linear path towards your neck, making you tilt your head to the side as he began to suckle softly on the skin. “But I wouldn’t shy from tying you down if it means I’ll be able to keep you in bed as much as I want to.”

#sabaku no gaara #suna no gaara #gaara #gaara smut #gaara of the desert

836 notes · View notes