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#i drew this instead of cleaning my room
verianal · 6 months
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Hi! Here's a suggestion for what you could draw. You could draw a honeymoon in Japan sims picture as Dan and Phil or vice versa
Have a good day!
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Dab and Evan as the dnp matching jacket pic
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dha1drated · 5 months
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i need to draw molly and karen kissing....for my mental health
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theostrophywife · 3 months
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curiosity killed the cat.
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pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.
author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3
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Curiosity killed the cat.
The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning. 
They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in. 
In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form. 
To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night. 
Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts. 
Potato, potato. 
The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up. 
With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons. 
The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place. 
The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention. 
The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.
The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow. 
This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical. 
As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier. 
No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite. 
Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming. 
In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight. 
“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully. 
The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced  enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either. 
After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?” 
Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.” 
Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus. 
“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.” 
“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate. 
Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled. 
“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.” 
The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. 
“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”
Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed. 
“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.” 
In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh. 
You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.” 
At that, Regulus purred in agreement.
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From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting. 
During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?” 
Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes. 
You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.” 
From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason. 
The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety. 
Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was. 
Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another. 
Perhaps it was time to change that. 
The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster. 
It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you. 
“How was your weekend?” 
You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.
“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?” 
Regulus paused. “It was…fine.” 
Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order. 
The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?
When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat. 
“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.” 
The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned. 
“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate. 
“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled. 
Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” 
He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?” 
“Shut it, Nott.” 
“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.” 
Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.” 
“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” 
“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?” 
“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”
Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice. 
Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this. 
“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?” 
Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.” 
You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.” 
His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!” 
Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.
“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.” 
You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.” 
“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped. 
“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”
Regulus tried not to grin. 
Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.” 
“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.” 
“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.” 
Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.” 
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Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all. 
Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes. 
It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her. 
In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved. 
“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered. 
The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!” 
To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?” 
Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.” 
His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?” 
Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.
If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.
So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course. 
From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself. 
“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly. 
“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?” 
“About a thousand times.” 
“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?” 
You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers. 
“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.” 
The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.” 
Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus. 
“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.” 
He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.” 
Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects. 
“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter. 
“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down. 
You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?” 
“Of course, Mr. Black.” 
“Regulus is fine.” 
“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.” 
As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.” 
You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.” 
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” 
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The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat. 
“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.” 
“Which one?” you asked curiously. 
Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks. 
“All of them.” 
Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?” 
Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”
“Every single book?” 
“Mhm.”
“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money. 
“And I devoured every single one.” 
As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.
The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads. 
Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.” 
Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?” 
“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”
“That’s Regulus to you, love.” 
“I thought it was Reg.” 
“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.” 
“Okay, Reggie.” 
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 
Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal. 
“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?” 
“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.” 
“My point exactly.” 
“What’s wrong with oatmeal?” 
“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.” 
“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.” 
“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?” 
“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.” 
Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy. 
Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people. 
Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.
In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.
“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.” 
Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.” 
“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?” 
“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.” 
“You’re hopeless, Regulus.” 
Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.” 
The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you. 
“However will you live?” 
“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.” 
“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.” 
He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.” 
“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively. 
Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest. 
“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.” 
The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”
“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.” 
You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.” 
You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.” 
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Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement. 
As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch. 
“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle. 
Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.” 
Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.” 
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response. 
Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.” 
“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?” 
“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.” 
“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.” 
Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.” 
Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.” 
“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.” 
As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.” 
Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. 
At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold. 
“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly. 
“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.” 
You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons. 
“This is quite lovely,” you said softly. 
Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.” 
“Where’s everyone else?” 
“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.” 
You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.” 
“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”
The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.” 
As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.” 
You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.” 
“No, thank you.” 
“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.” 
“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly. 
Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises. 
“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.” 
Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch. 
“Shall we?” 
A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you. 
As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow. 
You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle. 
“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close. 
“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”
Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.” 
You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?” 
The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.” 
You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?” 
“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.” 
The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel. 
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously. 
“No.” 
“Then why are you staring?” 
Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw. 
“Because you’re beautiful.” 
The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him. 
“Reggie…” 
The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…” 
Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons. 
You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. 
Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?” 
One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.” 
Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away. 
“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked. 
“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly. 
You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back. 
“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.” 
“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.” 
“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped. 
“Why, you little twat—” 
“Guys,” Regulus scolded. 
Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.” 
You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.” 
“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.” 
The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement. 
“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.” 
“Riddle,” warned Regulus.
Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room. 
“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”
Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it. 
“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.” 
“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.” 
“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.” 
“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement. 
“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.” 
Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?” 
The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks. 
“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.” 
Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.” 
“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.” 
“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted. 
“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.” 
Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.” 
The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins. 
“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch. 
In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret. 
“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.” 
Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle. 
You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you. 
The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus. 
Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds. 
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed. 
“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?” 
“Uh…the kind with wings?” 
Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?” 
The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family. 
“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip. 
“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.” 
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”
“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.” 
He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.” 
You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.” 
“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.” 
There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus. 
“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers. 
You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?” 
“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.” 
A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words. 
Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”
Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words. 
The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take. 
You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus. 
Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks. 
“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?” 
“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.” 
You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.” 
“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice. 
Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern. 
“Yes, and I heard it too.” 
“Please, can you—can you just not tell Reggie?” 
Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.” 
“Thank you, Tom.” 
You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat. 
“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.” 
Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt. 
Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again. 
Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.” 
Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament. 
No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus. 
The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed. 
“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.” 
Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. 
“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.” 
The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow. 
“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.” 
Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.” 
To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed. 
“Good night, Shadow.” 
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Regulus knew it was reckless. 
But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.
It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better. 
Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood. 
At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier. 
Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.
The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose. 
This was not good. 
This was definitely not good. 
You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief. 
“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?” 
Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot. 
But none of that mattered now. 
“Don’t end our friendship.” 
You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”
“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.” 
You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.” 
Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?” 
Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.” 
He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.” 
You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?” 
Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —" 
His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you. 
Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?” 
Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.” 
“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.” 
“I think I like Pansy.” 
“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.” 
“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.” 
“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.” 
You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” 
“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.” 
“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.” 
Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek. 
Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers. 
Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded. 
“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.” 
“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.” 
Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.” 
“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.” 
“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.” 
“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?” 
You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.” 
At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat. 
Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?” 
You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?” 
Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.” 
You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?
“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.” 
With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.” 
Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.” 
When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?” 
Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.” 
“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back. 
“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.” 
“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.” 
Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.” 
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr. 
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venus-haze · 1 year
Text
Under My Skin (Black Noir x Reader)
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Summary: Just when you think you don’t have a chance with Black Noir, an investor gala gives you a new opportunity to get under his skin.
Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also the song I’ve Got You Under My Skin. I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten a chance to write for Black Noir! Pre-season 1 where you’re in The Seven. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: None. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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The piece of paper on the table in front of you was mocking you. Black Noir had already won three out of the four tic-tac-toe matches you were silently engaged in during The Seven’s daily briefing, and with the way things were going, he was poised to win a fifth. With a huff, you drew a hopeless circle and silently slid it back to Noir.
“Nightowl,” Homelander said.
You looked up, bringing your attention to him. 
“Great work on the team-up with Noir the other night.”
Noir slid the paper back to you, his tic-tac-toe win marked with a clean line, but he’d also drawn a smiley face.
You smiled. “Anytime.”
Homelander continued on, and you only half paid attention, your focus increasingly on the man sitting beside you. Even before you joined The Seven, you admired Noir for his stealth and prowess, something you aspired to. Upon your first team-up, it was clear your powers, most effective at night, complimented his incredibly well. Plus, he seemed to like you from the start, which put you in Homelander’s good graces most of the time. 
Absentmindedly, you drew a little heart on the paper, feeling your face heat up when you saw Noir’s head turned toward you. He didn’t acknowledge the drawing, instead beginning a new game of tic-tac-toe. Embarrassment flooded your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You hoped he didn’t think you were being weird.
“Last thing…” Homelander said, reading off the agenda. “Oh yeah, investor gala this weekend.”
“Great, another ass-kissing convention,” Maeve mumbled.
“Can we make sure shrimp cocktail isn’t served this time?” The Deep asked. “I just feel like—“
Homelander’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, do I look like a caterer, Deep? Am I carrying around a silver platter–”
After a few more moments of bickering, Homelander ended the meeting, not without everyone still grumbling under their breath about the gala. No one particularly liked schmoozing over rich assholes, but they made your lucrative paychecks possible, so it was a necessary evil. 
You and Noir hadn’t finished the last round of your game, but when he left, he took the paper with him. 
You sighed. You knew you had it bad for him, but it was tough to gauge his feelings for you when his face was constantly covered by his mask. Even when you blatantly flirted, he seemed unaffected by your advances toward him. Of course you’d fall for this mystery of a man, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Your endeavor was starting to feel hopeless.
“So, when are you gonna make a move on Noir?” Homelander asked, walking out of the meeting room with you. “And don’t give me that ‘we just work together’ bullshit. The tension’s so thick I could laser through it.”
“You can laser through anything.”
He rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Look, there’s only so long I can take the two of you making heart-eyes at each other. I mean, get a room.”
“He makes heart-eyes at me?” you asked softly.
“Yes, so do something about it already.”
“Maybe at the gala. Everyone’s there to see you, anyway.”
“That’s true. No one would really notice if you and Noir weren’t there,” he said, before giving you a slightly painful pat on the shoulder. “Well, except me if you’re loud enough.”
You gave him a pointed look. “Thanks, Homelander.”
You never took his comments like that to heart. You knew you weren’t one of the more interesting members of The Seven, especially compared to the likes of Homelander and Maeve. It was a blessing in disguise, as you ended up stuck doing far less schmoozing than they did. Homelander could hide his disdain for whoever Vought wanted him to entertain for the evening, but on more than one occasion, you’d been on the receiving end of his rant about “pandering to the mud people.”
Noir always showed up to these events, despite not interacting with anyone unless it was to get food. Once in a while, you’d watch as someone tried to start a conversation with him, only to be ignored before awkwardly making an excuse to leave. At least he’d give you the time of day, silently letting you people watch with him, acknowledging your observations about the various guests with a nod, or on rare occasions, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly when you’d said something funny. You always felt especially accomplished then.
The night of the gala was only nerve-wracking because you were finally going to be forward with Noir and see where that got you, rather than your tentative approach in the past. 
When you arrived on the floor where the investor gala was being held, you went through all of the necessary introductions as quickly as you could. Across the room, Black Noir was playing the piano, as he tended to do during crowded events. You’d asked him before where he learned to play, and he wrote simply on a cocktail napkin ‘My grandma.’ As much as he trusted you, there were still parts of himself that were guarded, carefully revealing pieces of his past to you, though you could never fully put the whole picture together. In all the years you were a member of The Seven, you weren’t sure you ever would. 
His past didn’t matter to you. You were fond of the man he was, even if he didn’t reveal his whole self to you. Still, you wished you knew more. He didn’t seem to have any family, at least that he was in contact with. Then again, most of your teammates had complicated relationships with your families, yourself included. That one talent of his, however, showed that at one point there was someone he was close to, that he had a life outside of being a member of The Seven. You hoped the two of you could have that together.
Finally able to slip away from the people whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember, you made your way over to Noir. He looked up from the piano, tilting his head a bit in acknowledgement of you.
“This party’s so boring.” You made a point to lean against the piano, letting the spandex of your suit highlight your body. “I mean, I can think of much better things you and me could be doing with our time.”
You weren’t sure if he was nodding along with your sentiment or the music. Ever so frustratingly difficult to read. Taking his response in stride, you sat down next to him on the piano bench. He didn’t stop playing, but he didn’t move away from you either. 
“Will you show me how to play?” you asked.
He paused, the soft music stopping momentarily. With a nod, he shifted closer to you, placing his gloved hands over yours. You let him guide you, though your gaze was on him rather than the keys. 
“You’re great with your hands, Noir,” you said. “I mean, playing piano, fighting criminals, I’m sure there’s more you can do, if you ever wanna show me sometime.”
No reaction. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Homelander was just messing with you. Maybe—
He rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. It was something, finally some indication that he returned your affection. 
“You wanna get out of here?” you asked softly. “I only came for you, anyway.”
He took your hand in his, the music from the piano ceasing abruptly again. He brought his pointer finger to his mouth, and you giggled despite his silent instruction to be quiet. 
Glancing around, you noticed everyone else was preoccupied, mainly with competing for Homelander’s attention, as usual. The perfect opportunity for the two of you to slip away from the party with ease. Stealth was his speciality after all. 
You let him lead you away from the gala and to an empty balcony on another floor of the tower. The city seemed to sparkle especially bright that night. Feeling bold, you rested your head on his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his.
“I wish we could be like this more often,” you whispered. “You’re the only person I like spending so much time with. I think of you, and I—it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted you to know.”
After a few minutes of silence, Noir moved away from you, reaching for something in his pocket. A folded piece of paper, the same one the two of you had been playing tic-tac-toe on just a few days earlier. He handed it to you, and you scanned the page before landing on the heart you’d drawn, finding he’d drawn another one around it.
“This is so high school,” you laughed, nevertheless taking his covered face in your hands and kissing him. “So, what do we do now, loverboy?”
He wrapped his arms around you, and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh contentedly.
1K notes · View notes
hanjsquokka · 7 months
Text
Caramel Macchiato - [ Kim Seungmin ]
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🩷 SYNOPSIS : Seungmin hated the morning shift. He hated the way some people thought they could say whatever they wanted to him just because he wasn't able to hand them their scalding hot drink quick enough. You were an enigma of sorts the second he saw you walk in. And suddenly, the six hours he spent every day were too short.
GENRE : fluff, strangers to potential lovers
PAIRING : barista!seungmin × f!barista!reader
CONTENT WARNING : none
WORD COUNT : 2.5K
AUTHOR'S NOTE : I honestly had a lot of fun writing this even though I'm not that satisfied with the ending. The title is inspired by BTS' song Coffee, which is one of my favorites (yes, I wrote it with Jungkook's voice in mind). Hope you enjoy <3 (part of valentines collab with @stayconnecteed )
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The bristly cloth of a rag scratched his palms as Seungmin wiped down the counter. The morning rush died down, leaving behind a quiet lull in the coffee shop he was working in. He looked up at the clock. Five more hours until his shift ended. It had been nearly a week since the manager of the shop asked him to work the morning shift rather than the evening one because they were down an employee. Seungmin didn't want to. He really didn't. He hoped the blank stare would send a clear message — please go find someone else — but the man simply didn't understand that. Since the money for his vocal lessons were coming from the very paycheck the manager said he'd bump up, Seungmin reluctantly agreed.
The morning rush hour was a living nightmare. Annoyed and moody adults trying to get their daily dose of caffeine before they headed to their jobs they willingly applied to with a sour face, barking at whoever talked back to them until they've had a shot of expresso. Then they would get mad when he didn't make their coffee fast enough. He'd nearly bit his tongue off trying to hold back a sharp reply that would easily get him in trouble. Instead, he swallowed back the sentences and continued doing his work, trying his best to ignore them.
Seungmin didn't understand why those people were like that. Obviously he'd give them what they ordered for. Handling hot, steaming coffee was difficult. And even with two people on deck, the coffee shop was located in mid downtown — of course there would be a lot of people rushing in.
He was honestly about to give up and beg the manager to give him the evening shift instead, but that was when you walked into the shop. Wearing the same beige shirt with the coffee shop's logo printed onto the pocket. You greeted the manager with a bright smile, asking him how he was. You disappeared into the locker room beside the kitchen and came back with a brown apron in hand.
“Oh, hi?” You said as you approached Seungmin, a puzzled expression forming on your face. He mirrored the same, because who were you? And why did his heart stutter as you drew closer to him?
“Y/n, he's Seungmin. He's not new, don't worry. He used to be on the evening shift.” The manager told you and went into the kitchen, presumably to speak with the guy in there about how they ran out of croissants.
You looked relieved when the man told you Seungmin wasn't new. “Ah, sorry. I've had exams the whole week. I didn't know you were dealing with this alone.” You chuckled. “I apologize.”
Seungmin, for the first time in his life, found himself starstruck. Utterly starstruck by the person in front of him. His words betrayed him, so he simply nodded and turned away to clean the expresso machine before he could embarrass himself more.
He was dumbfounded. Because when had he ever been at a loss of words like that? The answer was never. He was witty and always had a snark reply waiting on the tip of his tongue when his friends made a joke.
It was just the two of you, working in silence. The other guy (was it Jeno?) had gone out to run an errand. There weren't that many customers, just the occasional one whom you greeted like they were old friends. You easily struck up a conversation with the person in front of you. It was like Seungmin was witnessing witchcraft. Not only were you able to keep a smile on the customer's face but you were making whatever they needed in the blink of an eye and handed it to them, telling them to come by again soon. He made awkward eye contact with you every now and then, but he still hadn't managed to say a word.
The next day, you were there before him, looking far too optimistic for someone to be at seven in the morning. For some reason, that didn't irk Seungmin as much as other people did. He wasn't against positivity and happiness, but he expressed those emotions in different ways. Ways other people didn't like. While they spread happiness in smiles and good vibes, engulfing their close ones in lingering hugs, he would add an extra pump of chocolate in their drink and made sure the latte art looked extra nice. You belonged to the former category. He could tell as the usual bustle of people walked in. You handled them all with such ease, he had to mentally slap himself to get back to his work and stop staring at you.
The two of you just clicked, working in harmony seamlessly without uttering a single word, despite never formally introducing yourselves to each other. The mornings started to become a thing Seungmin looked forward to. The six hour shift seemed too less. Every day he woke up, a skip in his step because of the fact that he could see you. Not that he like liked you or anything. His feelings were a whirlwind or chaos ever since you stepped foot into his life. His usually self poofed away, leaving behind a shy boy who could barely look you in the eye.
Although he was slightly jealous of your outgoing personality, he found it endearing the longer he worked with you. You remembered every little detail about everyone — from a man's promotion to a school kid's test grades. And you weren't doing it on purpose. You genuinely liked knowing about people and tried to change their day for the better. He heard you tell Jeno that you would like to be the reason someone smiled at least once that day.
Seungmin didn't speak with you directly, but your attitude was bringing a change in him too. His friends were the first to notice the change in him when they dropped by the coffee shop one day. Seungmin happened to be serving another customer and he looked happy instead of his regular blank expression. It was a nice change. When asked about it, he simply glanced in your direction, that infectious smile plastered all over your face as you placed fresh brownies in the showcase. You found joy in the most miniscule things, it was bewildering to him but he found it rather cute.
Hyunjin noticed his friend's gaze on you and for once, he didn't interrupt or tease him. A soft smile on his face, he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, watching the way Seungmin was looking at you. He wasn't a fool to see that his friend had much more than platonic colleague feeling towards you, whether he understood it himself or not.
The morning shift was starting to be somewhat productive. Once the majority of the people left as soon as the clock struck eight thirty, the place was empty except for the occasional one or two people. He had time to do whatever he wanted. Sometimes he cleaned down the tables and restocked the showcases. Other times, he would study. His daily vocal lessons were taking a toll on him. Not that he would ever quit. But he did have his moments of stress.
A ceramic mug was placed in front of him with whipped cream and caramel syrup piled on top of it. He turned away from the papers for his vocal lessons he'd been hunched over and looked at you. There was no customer in the shop, so you definitely weren't mistaken when you placed it in front of him. Besides, he was sitting behind the counter next to the cash register.
“Caramel Macchiato. Think of it as an apology —” Apology? — “if I managed to upset you in some way, I know I can be a bit too much —”
“I'm not mad at you?” That came out as a question. Not the tone Seungmin was hoping for, but he decided to go with the flow. “What made you think that?” Another dumb question. He'd been borderline ignoring you for the past week. Obviously you'd think you'd done something to upset him which in fact the complete opposite. “Nevermind, I can see why you'd think that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, turning around in the bar stool so he was facing you properly. “I'm sorry. I — uh, I'm Seungmin.”
“Y/n.” Your mood brightened up once he said that he wasn't mad at you. “You can keep the latte though. That one is my specialty.” You smiled, your eyes drifting from his face to the mug, eagerly waiting for him to try some. Which he did. It was… perfect. Not too sweet and the caramel didn't come on too strong. He used his thumb to wipe off the excess whipped cream over his mouth, a satisfactory nod following which made you beam. “Is it good?”
“Very.” Your bright smile was making him crack a small grin as well.
“You should start smiling more.” You pointed out, wiping your hands on the towel tucked in your apron pocket. “It suits you.”
The days that followed were filled with conversations between the two of you, although you were the one doing most of the talking. He didn't mind. He found a strange sense of happiness in seeing you ramble on and on about your cat or about the good grade you got on the test you were stressing about. He found himself wanting to know more and more about you. To see you more than the stupid six hour shift.
The insecure part of his mind told him that the smiles you gave him were the same as the ones you gave everyone else. It was just your nature. Being a living, breathing Pinkie Pie — making a change in an another person's day your life's sole mission. You were only talking to him because Jeno usually helped in the kitchen. Seungmin was just… the same as everybody else.
He didn't want to be everybody else.
You should smile more. It suits you.
Your words rang in his head day and night. Were you being nice or did you genuinely mean that? But you always meant whatever you said. You weren't afraid to hide your true thoughts, although you often sugar-coated your words so you wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings.
There was a new thought arising inside him that he tried to play off. Seungmin turned to his right, watching you make someone's drink. The morning rays of sun made your skin look golden, highlighting the pink tint of the lip gloss you applied that morning.
How could someone be so effortlessly breathtaking when making a cappuccino?
He wasn't foreign to the feeling of love, but you were something else entirely. You gave him a smile whenever you met his eyes, an action that made his cheeks turn pink as he looked away.
“Something on your mind?” You asked as you took a donut out of the showcase.
“No…” He shook his head. “Why do you ask?”
“You've been piling a little too much whipped cream onto that latte.” His eyes widened when he looked at the cup in front of him, a mountain of whipped cream sitting on top. His ears turned red when you chuckled. All the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop canceled out and it was only the sound of your laughter and the thumping of his heart in his chest that rang in his ears. He liked it. He liked hearing you laugh. He liked being the reason of your happiness.
He liked you.
That was a strong revelation. Normally, he'd let those thoughts mull over in his head for a while, but not this time. An idea formed in his head and he began to put his plan into action. He grabbed a cup and started making a latte.
“I do have something on my mind.” He said a while later, when you were sitting idly on your phone.
“What is it?” You asked, putting your phone down to give him your full attention. Your curious face made him hesitate for a moment. He took off the baseball cap he was wearing and ran his finger through his brown hair before focusing on you again.
“You.”
“Me?”
He swallowed. Seungmin picked up the drink he'd been trying to perfect and put it in front of you. He was scared. Your once beaming expression and turned into furrowed brows and an emotion he couldn't gage.
“Caramel Macchiato?”
“Jeno helped.”
A wide, toothy grin broke onto your face. “And here I thought I annoyed you.”
“The only thing that's annoying me is that you aren't trying my coffee.” He tried to act annoyed, but he wasn't able to play down the joy he was feeling.
You laughed, taking a big gulp from the ceramic mug. “Not bad.” You gave an appreciative nod. “I could teach you though.”
“Oh yeah?” Seungmin stepped closer.
“Yeah. Consider it a date.”
“It's a date now?” It was a rhetorical question, he knew that. A bubbling feeling arose in him when you stood up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He could smell the caramel on you as you lingered close to him for a second before pulling back. He couldn't hold back the happy grin this time, letting it take over as he looked into your eyes. “I want to take you out on a proper date.” His hands found yours, holding them with utmost care, thumbs brushing over your knuckles.
“Well I would hope so. I do have better clothes than this uniform.” He chuckled. “And I want to see more of that smile.” You were definitely something different.
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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Note
Hii could you do a blurb with Jen Beattie maybe “Are you okay?” “I am now” up to youuu<333
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brick wall || jen beattie x reader ||
growing up in an athletic family, you were no stranger to strong people. a few of the sports you had played growing up had girls that were well over six feet tall. still, you had not fully been prepared for what it was like living with one of them. jen was an absolute unit with her height and strength.
that had been one of the things that drew you to her. jen was sweet and had a story that you never tired listening to. one minute, she could be trying to cuddle with you while you made your morning coffee, and the next, she was throwing you over her shoulder to carry you into the bedroom. she kept you on your toes, even if she was also occasionally knocking you off of your feet.
"oh my god, i am so sorry. are you okay?" jen asked as she scooped you up. she had knocked into you on accident, having been chasing your new puppy around the little backyard area of your house. jen had knocked you clean off of your feet, but was now holding you bridal style like superman holding lois lane.
"i am now," you told her. jen let out a sigh of relief as she kissed your forehead. she didn't let you go, instead carrying you all the way inside and into the kitchen. "jen, i was on the ground for two seconds. i'm fine, really."
"i don't know about that. i can see a red spot, let me just get you an ice pack," jen said. she busied herself trying to attend to you, despite the fact that you didn't need any attention. jen was completely focused on you until she felt a small head connect with her calf several times. "i'll be back out to play in a minute buddy, i promise. i've got to take care of your mom."
"bastion, go lay down," you said firmly. the puppy left the two of you and laid down on his bed in the living room. "what good is looking so intimidating when you're such a softie?"
"throwing the world off of your true nature," jen joked. you pinched her as she moved in to set the ice pack on your shoulder. jen let out a yelp and pouted at you. you tried to move past her, but she caged you in until you kissed the spot better.
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riordanness · 2 months
Text
seven — [p.jackson]
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pairing: percy jackson x reader
wordcount: 1.5K
warnings: reader is a swiftie, i know nothing about teenage party games
“Silena, I really don’t want to,” I whine slightly, laying back against the wall on my bunk bed.
My older half sister raises an eyebrow at me. “Girl, I’ve known you for five years now and you’ve never stepped foot in a single party. College parties are part of the experience! You have to at least attend one. And this one is the best one you could pick to come to—it’s mine.”
I roll my eyes. “But there’s… people there.” Like him.
“Yeah?” So he might be there.
“I don’t like people.” Mostly him.
Silena rubs her palm over her face in an annoyed way. “Just come. This one time. Please.”
“Okay,” I groan. “But only because it’s gonna be in our house anyway.” So hopefully he’s smart enough to stay away.
“Great.” Yeah, right.
I regretted it almost immediately. It was being held in our dorm house, downstairs from my bedroom. I wished I was back up there.
Someone offers me a drink, and I politely decline. Not because I don’t drink, but because I don’t trust anyone here to not have done something to it.
Then, I hear Silena yelling for everyone to get their asses to the living room, so I head in there.
People are sitting in a big circle, more and more kids adding to the line.
“What’s going on?” a younger guy asks me, but I shrug. Probably some party game that I've never heard of.
Another girl steps over and says, “Seven minutes in heaven.”
“What’s that?” I ask, frowning.
“You get locked in a closet with someone for seven minutes,” the girl explains. I think her name was Drew, but I might be wrong. “And you get to do anything you want.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.
“Ah,” I comment.
“Okay everyone!” Silena claps her hands and flashes a perfect smile. “Who’s ready for a game!”
There’s an eruption of cheers, and I reluctantly decide to sit down in the circle. I mean, chances are I won’t get picked, right? There are dozens of other teenagers here, and…
My thoughts come to a staggered pause as my eyes fall on the one person I never wanted to see again. Especially not here, not now. He’s sitting right across from me in the circle, but he doesn’t even notice me, laughing with a taller blond guy wth glasses as he chugs something out of a red plastic cup. His sea green eyes sparkle with humour, unfortunately still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a navy hoodie and jeans, a fairly lame outfit for a party. Like come on, even I dressed up a little. (I put on a shirt on with my jeans instead of a sweater).
Silena places a empty soda bottle in the middle of the circle. “Okay,” she says loudly. “I’m going to spin this, and whoever it lands on gets to go in the closet!” Her voice bubbles with excitement, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Who the hell came up with this game, anyway?
Silena’s red nails click against the bottle as she sends it spinning. The room goes quiet, all eyes on the plastic. It slows, slows, slows… and stops.
My heart is pounding in my ears, and my mouth has gone dry. The bottle cap is pointing straight at me. Slowly, I glance up at the person on the other side of the bottle. And it’s him. Of course it’s him.
Silena looks both pleased and worried. “Our winners are Y/n and Percy Jackson!”
A smattering of applause and cheers follows her announcement, and she waves us both up. “Come, come. Follow me, guys.”
I force myself to my feet, focusing my eyes on Silena and Silena only, refusing to even glance at Percy, even when he falls into step beside me.
We are led to the closet right in the corner of the big living room, a little while away from most of the party, but still the same room, kind of. Silena opens the door. It’s been clearly cleaned out recently, probably for the sole purpose of playing this game.
“In you pop,” Silena says giddily. “Have fun!”
I climb in, and Percy follows. Then the door is closed, and locked, and an eruption of giggles sounds from the party-goers.
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms.
“Hey,” Percy says awkwardly. “Hey, I’m—“
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
“What?” He frowns. “Playing the game like I’m supposed to?”
“No, I mean here at the party. The one you knew was at my house.”
His eyes clear with understanding. “Oh.”
I raise my eyebrows.
Percy sighs. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to apologise to you.”
I scoff a little. “A bit too late, don’t you think?”
“You don’t understand—“
“No, I understand. I understand just fine. You didn’t want me, okay. You didn’t want me to be your girlfriend anymore, fine. But you should have said something. Not just—ghost me online. That was lame, Percy. Really, really lame.” My voice trembles ever so slightly, and I have to swallow hard to keep it even.
“I know.” He runs a hand through his unruly dark hair. “Believe me, I know.”
“So why’d you do it?” I ask. “Were you cheating on me?”
He looks taken aback. “What?! Gods, no. Y/n, I would never do that.”
I soften a little bit. “Okay. Good. Then what was the reason?”
“I just—I couldn’t handle it. My mom is going through a divorce right now, and I was swamped with schoolwork—and you know how I am with school, I suck—and I caved. I didn’t want to disappoint you in our relationship, so I just… I don’t know.” He sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair again. “Look, it was stupid, okay? I know that. It was cruel and hurtful and completely unnecessary. I should have communicated with you, actually told you what I was going through. I’m sorry. That was really immature of me.”
I am quiet, studying him in the dim lightning. It’s too dark to completely make out his features, so I can only see his faint outline.
“Can you forgive me?” Percy asks softly.
I don’t want to. My better judgement tells me no. But at the same time, I know Percy. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. He’s being sincere.
I let out a sigh. “Okay. Sure.”
Percy looks so relieved he almost falls over. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really.” I have to bite back my laugh.
There’s a heartbeat or two of silence, and then Percy talks again. “You know that Taylor Swift song you like from that album you like?”
I make an amused face. “That’s really unspecific. I like all her songs from all her albums.”
“Well—yeah, okay. My bad. I mean that one that goes…” He puts on a stupid falsetto voice while he tries to sing (FYI, he can’t sing for shit). “All of the silence and waiting, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you, ah ah ah—“
I cut off his ‘Ah’s’. They sound like drowning fish. “You mean Dress?”
Percy nods. “Yeah; that one.”
“Okay. What about it, exactly?”
“That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”
I don’t know whether I should be impressed that he knows that song well enough to remember those lyrics specifically when he relates to them, or whether I should be worried that he listens to Dress, of all songs.
“You do, huh? Why is that?”
“Because we still have almost four minutes. And I’ve missed your kisses more than anything.”
I can’t ignore the butterflies I feel at his words. They overweigh the feeling of apprehension at taking him back. I smile. “What’s keeping you, then?”
Percy grins wide, and doesn’t waste another second. He moves forward, his hand pulling me by my waist closer to him, the other hand gripping my chin gently between his fingers, so my face is tilted up to look at him.
“You sure this is okay?” he checks.
I nod. “Positive. I’ll get properly mad at you later.”
Percy laughs under his breath. “Good that.”
And without another word, he moves down and kisses me. It gives me the exact same feeling it always used to, like I had wings. His mouth still tastes of sea salt and Coke, and it moves against mine like we’d never missed a single day.
My fingers instinctively move to the loose waves of dark hair at the base of his head, intertwining themselves there, holding him close to me.
His grip on my waist tightens, like his entire body needs me closer, which I’m not entirely sure is even possible. He’s kissing me like I am air and he is drowning. Like I am his lifeline, his anchor.
When we finally pull apart, it is only for seconds, before Percy is pulling me in again.
Then there is a crack of brightness in our dark little bubble, and a familiar girl’s voice is squealing. “Oh, my. Gods! It worked!”
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badnoahmens · 1 year
Text
Sweep Me Off My Feet
Noah Sebastian x Reader
A/N: this was an anon request - I hope I did you proud! “Reader and him are bffs and she gets really depressed staying alone during the shutdown, so Noah picks her up and she ends up living with him during it all. So everyone else in the band quickly realizes that they are more than besties, just in the way they act with each other.”
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42 days into this ‘lockdown’, you think. 42 days since it was all over the news, ‘stay in your house, don’t leave unless it's for a medical reason. Blah blah blah’. The panic has started to subside, people are somewhat used to the idea now, despite how upsidedown the world is seeming. The days were just so long, and the nights seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t really an end in sight, just more and more delays of the inevitable. “Lockdown extended another week…month… the rest of our lives”.
There was only one thing helping you get through this, and that was Noah. He would be the one who always answered the phone, answered the messages, sent you hilarious videos or photos of himself. It was this connection that was what was stopping you from going insane.
Your house was otherwise empty. You lived on your own, along with your dying house plants. A blanket of darkness was getting ever so comfortable to live in, and it was becoming dangerous. You would go days without showering, the house was a mess, and the food you were eating could barely even be called edible.
It was 4pm, and you still hadn’t left the couch. Staring mind-numbingly at the TV as a show that auto-played in front of you. It was like your brain was paralyzing you, stopping from being alive. Instead, just existing; taking up space.
The only light in the room came from the TV as figures from an unknown show ran about their lives. The curtains were shut and all the doors and windows closed. A sudden brrrrrrrr from your phone drew you out of the shroud you were in, the phone screen lighting up with a new message.
Noah: Have you drank any water today?
You scoff. Was this man stalking you?
You reply: since when are you tracking my vitals?
You stand, bones creaking and cracking as you finally show some sign of life, and then saunter over to the kitchen. A cup that looks relatively clean sits by the sink, so you fill it up with water and drink it as quickly as you can.
Your phone lights up again.
Noah: You just drank some, didn’t you?
Your response? Nothing. He knows he’s right. You won’t even need to say anything.
Noah: knew it.
You: shut up.
You look down at your phone, and then around at the house. It was embarrassing. The smell was suddenly becoming apparent, and it was a concoction of body sweat, dampness and something else that might have been the dead plant.
You sigh. Knowing this wasn’t any way to live. Leaving the TV playing, you walk upstairs and to the bathroom, twisting the handles in the shower so the water comes pouring down. The steam begins to hollow out and you strip from your clothes, tossing them to the side. The waterfall feels clean, it envelopes you and you close your eyes in bliss. Why has this been so hard to do? The scent of your shampoo brings a slight smile to your face when you wash your hair, and it may just be because you were proud of yourself just for doing that. As you rinse your hair, there was a noise from outside the bathroom. A bang. Then a crash. Then a… clink?
Your heartbeat rises. Someone else was there, it wasn’t from the tv and you knew it. With shaking hands you shut off the shower and grasp your towel, wrapping your body in it roughly. Your mind starts to race. Will they leave without knowing you were there? Will they find you? What will they do if they do? Looking around the room, you panic when your phone is missing. It’s still downstairs. Fuck.
The footfalls grow louder as they climb the stairs, slowly. And then, as though he knows you would be hiding, Noah calls out.
“Are you home? It’s just me! Please don't attack me!”
The breath you were holding onto finally is let out, and you stomp over to the door, swinging it open aggressively.
“What the fuck, Noah!” You yell at him, hair dripping onto the floor as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was longer now, coming close to sitting on his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were wide as they stared at you, in a towel, in the middle of the hallway, with an angry expression twisted in your face. “I thought you were coming to kill me!”
It was then that you noticed a bag in his hand, a garbage bag, full of the rubbish that has been littering your house for weeks. “Are you cleaning?”
He still is looking at you, “I thought it would help…” he says sheepishly.
“Why are you cleaning?” you ask, quite literally dumbfounded.
“I know what you’re like. This isn’t healthy. I’m cleaning and you’re going to pack a bag and come live with us” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Come live with you?”
He nods his head, then turns and walks into your bedroom. You see the light in the room shift as he slides the curtains and opens the window, letting a light breeze slowly waft into the room and down towards you. You’re still confused as you see him rummaging around in your bedroom, throwing rubbish into a bag, then looking up to meet your confused stare.
“I can pack a bag for you if you’re just going to stand there” he remarks, and you respond quickly.
“I’ll pack myself, thank you very much. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t trust you”
“What do you mean!” Noah calls back in disbelief.
“Grass shoes!” You yell back.
He stands in silence for a moment. “Enough said,” he states finally in defeat.
As you walk into your room, you start to feel overwhelmed watching Noah already having a full bag of trash. He was here all of 5 minutes and had done more around the house than you had in a month. Guilt started to eat away at the pit of your stomach, and Noah noticed the energy shift in the room. When he looked at you tears started to form.
“Hey…. Hey hey hey hey” he says, dropping the bag and coming to your side, wrapping his long arms around you. You bury your head in his chest and loop your arms around him. Breathing in his scent helped, but it didn’t stop the tears completely.
“I can stop if it’s not helping”
“No, please, I’m just sorry. It’s a lot. I haven’t seen you in so long”
“I know, but I knew I had to do something.”
It took all of a few hours to get the house into a relatively clean state. With bags of rubbish out of the way, clothes and dishes put back into their place, weeks of dirt and grime finally cleaned, you started to feel alive again. There was something about spending time with Noah that made you feel better. When the sun was starting to set, your house looked normal, bags were packed, and you were closing the door behind you as you left and walked towards Noah’s car.
The drive back to his house was quiet. You watched out the window as the view zoomed past. It seemed odd being outside, to be moving somewhere especially when you were not supposed to be leaving your house. But this was essential. This was for a medical reason. If Noah had not come to help you, who knows how long it would have taken to start completely falling apart.
When you finally pulled into the driveway, Noah stepped out and collected your bags, then headed straight inside having you follow him in. Although it was early, you were exhausted.
“I think I might just go straight to bed,” you murmur to Noah. He nods, then leads you to a bedroom. It was mostly bare, but it would be perfect. After how much clutter you had been surrounded with lately, the minimalism was refreshing.
You drop your bags on the bed, then turn to see Noah at the door.
“If you need anything, you know to come find me” he speaks softly. You nod in response. He then closes the door leaving you with nothing but yourself.
You look around the room. A bed was pushed up against the wall. A painting hung opposite it, and a plant stood tall in the corner by the door. The view out of the window showed the tall tree that stood in the backyard by the timber fence, and it looked like there were a few small birds taking up residence in a nest off one of the branches. You smiled at the birds, admiring their own peacefulness. They were content. Happy. Living with what they had. You were determined to get there yourself.
After a restless night’s sleep, you awoke to the sun shining through the window. The birds had left for the morning, possibly to get their food, and you decided you needed to do the same.
As you exit out of your new bedroom, the house is quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the tv from around the corner. You come around to see the animated faces of unknown characters playing out. It was an anime, and you were unfamiliar, but you did recognise the back of 2 heads facing the screen with their back to you. Noah and Jolly were sitting down on a couch lost in the adventure they were watching. You rounded the couch and slumped next to them. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was said. They just shifted over to give you more room and continued on with their show.
This is what you needed. This new normal. With people around you. People that made you smile, made you actually want to get up in the morning, and to watch funny shows with.
As the anime continued, you started to ask some questions. “So who’s side are we supposed to be on?” “Aren’t they supposed to be the bad guy?” “What do you mean they just died?” “How old are these characters supposed to be?”
Noah and Jolly answered every single one of them, explaining plot points, theories and sometimes even loopholes in the storytelling.
After an hour, Jolly left to retreat to the kitchen, leaving yourself and Noah sitting side by side. He looked over at you, sharing a smile, and threw his arm over your shoulder. The action made you fall onto his side, a strangely comforting feeling after being so distant for so long. But a feeling that you knew you could get used to pretty quick.
2 months have passed now. You were still living with Noah and the boys. He still made you laugh and smile like you never had before. The days were simple, spending time with each other, watching shows, writing music, and playing games. But tonight it was another night on the couch. It became a tradition these days to all be sprawled out, limbs over limbs, invading personal space, all in an effort to spend quality time together and work as a close unit of friends. It felt so natural with them, they were beyond welcoming, and made you feel like a part of the family.
Just like all the nights that had passed previously, Nick was the first to go, standing with a sigh, rubbing his belly, and sauntering off into his room. Next to follow was Jolly, after many arguments about his falling asleep during the show, he finally admitted defeat and retreated back to his bedroom.
This left you and Noah alone. The growing haze of sleepiness was creeping ever so close to taking over. Your eyelids felt so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, you say to yourself, knowing full well this was the biggest lie. It was mere seconds until the dream state took you under.
You were abruptly awoken by the feeling of rummaging coming from beneath you. Lifting your head from its place, you peer between the slits of your open eyes. You’re met with Noah’s face looking at you, perplexed and a little worried.
“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you” he whispers in a soft tone, a little raspy and sleepy himself.
Twisting your head you can see you laying by his side, squished between his body and the back of the couch pillows. Noah was laying on his back, dangling close to the edge, one leg hanging off at the knee to stop from slipping off altogether. His hands rested on your back, gliding up and down in a soothing motion. His arm was twisted around your side, with you nestled comfortably and quite perfectly fitted under his arm with head resting on his chest.
A hand of yours was tucked under your head, and it takes a second to realize how you got here. When you fell asleep, you must have slipped down onto Noah, and him being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to wake you. Was he asleep himself? By the look of his hair, spread across the beige pillow in a tangled mess, it’d be a good guess to say that he was.
You lay your head down once more, gazing drizzly up at Noah, who tenderly brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.
“You know you talk in your sleep” he uttered quietly, as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.
Still half asleep, you close your eyes and sigh.
“I was afraid of that” you whisper.
“It was adorable,” he says, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Noah leans his head down, straining it at an almost awkward angle, to meet your face. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy anymore. He was so close. His breath washed over your face and wafted down past your neck. He was lingering, slow, questioningly. Did he want this? Did you? Shivers were running down your spine, possibly from the surge of butterflies in your stomach. Noah was your friend, your closest friend, and would this ruin it? Thoughts were running wild in your head, dancing dangerously close to ruining what was about to happen.
Noah notices, he sees you hesitate, and he pulls back. Your stomach drops.
“I’m sorry, I-“ he starts.
You interrupt him by leaning up and meeting his lips with yours. He flinched at the impact, but didn't pull back. Instead, his lips move like yours, mimicking the motion you create, parting slightly to allow just that tiny bit more of a connection. You slide up, straddling Noah so that your thighs are at the sides of his torso, moving your hands so they are on either side of his face, fingers tangling with his long hair in a feeble attempt to ground yourself in the moment. His hands move too, gingerly griping at your hips, but not as to hold, but to caress. You feel a tremor of anticipation across your body, the light pressure that he creates between you two, rolling his body to be closer to yours, makes the sensation even more intimate.
You’re still kissing him, heavily. His mouth parts more, flicking the tip of his tongue over your lips as though to ask for more. You respond with the same motion, with tongues now intertwining as you begin to taste him. The fears and worries from before are long gone, and all that you could think of now was him, was that he wants this just as much as you do.
The intensity between you and Noah grows more. It's as if the universe has narrowed down to this singular moment, where every touch, every sensation, becomes heightened and electrifying. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his skin — it all consumes your senses.
With each passing second, the kiss deepens, evolving into something more profound and passionate. Your tongues dance together, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It's a delicate balance between fervor and tenderness, a beautiful symphony of desire and affection, orchestrated perfectly just for the two of you.
Noah's hands glide up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. As his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently caress your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and intensifying the sensation. Time becomes irrelevant as you revel in this newfound closeness. The outside world ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, entwined in an embrace that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. In this intimate dance, you feel a profound sense of trust and vulnerability, knowing that you are sharing something special and rare.
You can feel him begin to writhe beneath you, legs shifting and pressing against the space between yours. You pause momentarily, letting the moment linger, before reciprocating the same passion, grinding down with your hips to create friction between your clothes. The moan that elicits from Noah echoes into your mouth, the feeling of pleasure taking over him for a moment. As the kiss lingers, your hands wander, discovering the contours of each other's bodies. His hands now gripping desperately at your body, one cinched below your thigh, pulling it up closer to him, the other hooked around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing delicate shapes into your skin. Every touch, every caress, elicits a gasp or a sigh from both of you, like a plea for more.
But eventually, the need for air becomes undeniable, and you reluctantly break the kiss, your lips still tingling from the connection. Breathless and flushed, you meet Noah's gaze, searching for reassurance and affirmation. He looks back at you, with the same search in his eyes. Almost like he’s looking for answers too, like he’s asking if he could continue. You lean your forehead against Noah's, your breaths intermingling as you revel in the afterglow of that passionate kiss. Both of you are out of breath, panting in an effort to regain some kind of consciousness. Time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, acknowledging the significance of this shared moment. That is, until the rattle of the fridge door, and the flood of its light tears you from the moment, violently throwing you back to the reality around you. With a jolt, your head darts towards the source, the silhouette of Jolly in the fridge gives you your answer.
“Bout time you guys kiss and make up” he says, with such a carefree nature, a hint of humor playing in his last words. “Nick, you owe me 20!” He calls, exiting the room and around the corner.
“We’re they fucking, or just making out?” You hear Nick call from another room.
“Just making out. Thank Christ” Jolly answers to himself, leaving you and Noah to giggle, flushed red with embarrassment. Despite being caught in the act, it didn’t dampen the mood. You were still straddling Noah, but sitting more upright now. He sits up, readjusting so you sit atop his lap. He brushes a loose strand behind your ear, and looks at you tenderly.
It might be the lack of oxygen, but the way the colorful light from the tv dances on Noah’s face makes him seem more beautiful, like something you’ve never seen in him before.
In the room's shifting shadows, the illustrations decorating his neck come alive, dancing in the changing colors that starkly contrast with the white of his shirt. His hair was a mess, tangled and knitted from your fingers, but it was his eyes, and the way they looked into your soul, that made you feel at home. With your hands draped around his neck, you lean in once more, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into you again, pushing his hands against your back to make you closer to him as you both revel in the fleeting moment. Even if it did change things in the future, you didn’t care.
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jaefluenza · 1 month
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unproblematic | jjh.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
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warning: idk, you name it. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
jeong jaehyun x reader
5,152 words
He was the type of person whose presence could light up a room without him even trying. His smile was warm, his voice gentle, and there was something about him that drew people in. He was kind, patient, and generous in ways that made him seem almost otherworldly. Everyone who knew him admired him, and I was no exception.
My life had always been one of quiet contentment. I was the sort of person who avoided conflict, preferring instead to keep the peace and offer a helping hand where I could. My friends often described me as wise beyond my years, always ready with advice or a comforting word. I liked to think of myself as someone who gave more than they took, finding joy in the happiness of others.
But Jaehyun was different. He stirred something in me that I couldn’t quite understand, something I had never felt before. It wasn’t just admiration or respect; it was a deep, unyielding desire. I wanted him in a way that was almost overwhelming, a way that made me feel both exhilarated and ashamed.
It started innocently enough. I would visit his café every morning, a ritual that had become as essential to me as breathing. The smell of coffee, the taste of a freshly baked croissant, and the sound of Jaehyun’s voice as he greeted me by name—all of it combined to create a sanctuary from the world outside.
“Good morning,” he would say with that smile that could melt glaciers, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Good morning, Jaehyun,” I would reply, trying to keep my voice steady, trying not to let him see the effect he had on me.
We would talk about everything and nothing—books we were reading, music we were listening to, the weather. It was all so ordinary, yet every moment felt charged with an undercurrent of something more, something unsaid.
Then there was the way he would look at me, sometimes lingering just a moment longer than necessary. It was in those moments that I would wonder if he felt it too, this strange pull between us. But then I would remember—Jaehyun had a girlfriend. She was beautiful, kind, and from what I could tell, she made him happy. The way he talked about her, with a softness in his voice and a light in his eyes, made it clear that he loved her.
But that didn’t stop the desire from growing inside me, a desire that I tried to bury, but it always found its way back to the surface.
One evening, I found myself alone in the café, long after the last customer had left. The soft hum of jazz music played in the background as I sat at my usual table, lost in thought. Jaehyun was behind the counter, cleaning up for the night, his movements slow and deliberate. The light was dim, casting long shadows across the room, and the air was heavy with the scent of coffee and something else—something bittersweet.
“Do you need anything else?” Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence, gentle and considerate as always.
I looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that made my heart ache.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just enjoying the peace and quiet.”
He nodded, but instead of going back to his work, he walked over to my table and sat down across from me. I could feel my pulse quicken, the air between us thick with unspoken words.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.
I hesitated, unsure of what to say. How could I tell him that the reason I was sitting here, long after everyone else had left, was because I didn’t want to leave? Because I wanted to be near him, to bask in the warmth of his presence for just a little longer?
“I’m fine,” I lied, offering him another smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
He studied me for a moment, his gaze piercing in a way that made me feel like he could see right through me, see all the desires and longings I had tried so hard to hide.
“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “you don’t have to pretend with me. If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”
I wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Here he was, offering me comfort, being the kind, generous person he always was, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him. How much I wanted to reach across the table, take his hand in mine, and tell him everything.
But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that person who ruined something so pure, something so good.
So instead, I shook my head. “I’m just tired,” I said. “It’s been a long day.”
He didn’t push further, just nodded and offered me that same gentle smile that always made my heart skip a beat.
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As the days passed, I tried to keep my distance. I would still visit the café, but I would leave as soon as I had my coffee, not allowing myself to linger. But it was impossible to avoid Jaehyun completely. He was always there, always kind, always making me feel things I didn’t want to feel.
Then came the night that changed everything.
It was late, and the sky was dark, heavy with the promise of rain. I was walking home from the bookstore, the cool air a welcome relief from the thoughts that had been swirling in my mind all day. As I rounded the corner, I saw Jaehyun standing outside the café, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head tilted back as he looked up at the sky.
Something about the sight of him standing there, so serene, so beautiful, made me stop in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotion wash over me—longing, desire, and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name.
Before I could think better of it, I found myself walking towards him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Jaehyun,” I called out, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
He turned, his expression softening when he saw me. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.
For a moment, we just stood there, the silence between us filled with the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the distant rumble of thunder.
“I… I don’t know how to say this,” I began, my voice trembling. “But I need to tell you something.”
He watched me, his gaze steady, as if he already knew what I was going to say.
“I… I care about you,” I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “More than I should. More than I want to.”
For a moment, there was only silence. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall into the unknown.
Then, Jaehyun took a step towards me, closing the distance between us. He reached out, gently taking my hand in his, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me.
“I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than I should.”
My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, the world around us fading away until there was only him, only this moment.
“But I can’t…” he began, his voice filled with regret. “I can’t do this. I have someone, and I can’t hurt her. I won’t.”
I nodded, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I had known this would be the outcome, had known it from the moment I first realized my feelings for him. But hearing the words still felt like a knife twisting in my heart.
“I understand,” I whispered, pulling my hand away from his. “I just… I needed you to know.”
He nodded, his expression one of deep sadness. “I’m glad you told me,” he said. “But I don’t want to lose you. Our friendship means a lot to me.”
“I won’t go anywhere,” I promised, even though I knew it would be hard, even though I knew that staying would mean living with this ache in my heart.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
We stood there for a few moments longer, the silence between us filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Then, without another word, I turned and walked away, my footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
As I made my way home, the first drops of rain began to fall, mingling with the tears that I could no longer hold back. I had always prided myself on being wise, on making the right choices, on putting others before myself. But in that moment, I felt anything but wise. I felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable in a way that I had never felt before.
But despite the pain, there was a strange sense of relief in having finally spoken my truth. For so long, I had kept my feelings hidden, locked away where they couldn’t hurt anyone. But now, even though the outcome wasn’t what I had hoped for, I felt a sense of peace in having been honest with myself and with Jaehyun.
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The days that followed were difficult. I still visited the café, but the dynamic between Jaehyun and me had shifted in subtle but undeniable ways. There was a carefulness in our interactions now, a mutual understanding of the line we could never cross. Our conversations, once so easy and free-flowing, were now laced with a delicate tension. Every smile, every lingering glance carried the weight of what had been confessed and what could never be.
Jaehyun was still the same warm, generous person he had always been, but there was a sadness in his eyes now, a shadow that hadn’t been there before. It hurt to see it, knowing that I had played a part in dimming the light that he so effortlessly radiated.
But I kept my promise—I didn’t go anywhere. I continued to show up at the café, day after day, because as much as it hurt, being away from him hurt more. I told myself that I could handle it, that I could be content with the friendship we shared, even if it meant swallowing down the longing that never seemed to go away.
And for a while, I managed. We fell into a new rhythm, one that was careful and considerate, but also tinged with the unspoken. The moments of silence between us grew longer, more comfortable, as if we were both trying to find a way to reconcile what was with what could never be.
But the desire I felt for Jaehyun, the deep, unyielding want, was still there, lurking beneath the surface. It was a quiet ache, one that I carried with me everywhere I went. I would see him, standing behind the counter, his smile lighting up the room, and I would feel it—a pang of longing so sharp it took my breath away.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned shades of pink and orange, I found myself alone in the café once again. The last customers had left, and it was just Jaehyun and me, the soft strains of music playing in the background. He was wiping down the counters, his movements slow and methodical.
I sat at my usual table, staring down at the empty cup in front of me, the weight of everything pressing down on my shoulders. I had thought I could manage, that I could keep my feelings in check, but the more time I spent with Jaehyun, the harder it became. Every smile, every kind word, every touch of his hand as he passed me my coffee—it all added to the weight, making it harder and harder to breathe.
“I think I need to take a break,” I said suddenly, my voice breaking the silence.
Jaehyun looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “A break?” he repeated, setting down the cloth he had been using. “From the café?”
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I just… I need some time to figure things out.”
There was a long pause, the air between us heavy with the words we weren’t saying.
“I understand,” Jaehyun said softly, and when I finally looked up at him, there was that same sadness in his eyes, the same shadow that I had come to know so well. “I’ll miss you, though. This place won’t be the same without you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The thought of not seeing him every day, of not hearing his voice, not feeling the warmth of his presence—it was almost unbearable. But I knew that staying, that continuing to pretend everything was okay, would only make things worse.
“I’ll miss you too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I think it’s what I need to do.”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression one of understanding, but also of pain. “I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he said, his voice gentle. “Whenever that is.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The lump in my throat was too big, the emotions too close to the surface. I stood up, my movements slow and reluctant, as if my body was resisting what my mind knew had to be done.
As I reached the door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. I wanted to turn back, to look at him one last time, to hold onto this moment for just a little longer. But I knew that if I did, I might never be able to leave. And I was awfully right.
As I stood at the door, debating whether I should turn back to say something more, the weight of all my unresolved emotions became unbearable. Without fully thinking it through, I found myself walking back toward Jaehyun. He was still there, behind the counter, his gaze following my every movement with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“Jaehyun,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“Yes?” His voice was soft, encouraging, but also laced with a hint of something I couldn’t quite decipher—hope, maybe, or perhaps apprehension.
My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that it drowned out every rational thought. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out, gently cupping his face in my hands. His skin was warm beneath my touch, his breath hitching as he looked at me with those deep, dark eyes that had haunted my thoughts for so long.
“Wait—” he started, but the words caught in his throat as I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his in the lightest, most hesitant kisses.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. The world outside the café faded away, leaving just the two of us, suspended in a bubble of quiet intensity. The kiss was soft, and tentative, as if we were both afraid to push too far, to let the moment slip away.
Jaehyun’s hands came up to my waist, his touch hesitant and unsure. There was a second of hesitation, a moment where I could feel him battling with himself. But then, as if something inside him gave way, he kissed me back. His lips moved against mine with a gentle urgency, a tenderness that made my heart swell with something I could only describe as pure, unfiltered emotion.
The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as the world outside ceased to exist. There was no past, no future, just this moment—just us. My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as if I could fuse us together, as if this kiss could make everything right, even if just for a moment.
Jaehyun’s lips moved against mine with a hunger I hadn’t expected, and a thrill of triumph shot through me. He wanted this—wanted me—just as much as I wanted him.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the consequences, not the boundaries we were shattering, not the people we were betraying. All that existed was the heat of his body pressed against mine, the way his hands roamed my back, pulling me closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own, and a sense of power surged through me. Jaehyun, the man I had admired from afar for so long, the man who was always so composed, so careful, was unraveling beneath my touch. And I was the one who had brought him to this point, the one who had made him forget everything else, if only for a moment.
We pulled apart, just enough to catch our breath, our foreheads resting against each other’s. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity I had never seen before, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Jaehyun…” I whispered, but I didn’t know what else to say. Everything I felt—everything we both felt—was too overwhelming for words.
He didn’t respond, not with words. Instead, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me again, deeper this time, as if he were trying to pour all the things he couldn’t say into that kiss. And I let him, losing myself in the taste of him, in the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Mmmh,” a soft sound escapes my lips before I can stop it.
My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as I pressed my body against his, feeling the heat of him through our clothes. I wanted more—needed more—and the fact that he was giving it to me without hesitation, without regret, only made me crave him even more.
I could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding back, as if he were afraid that if he let go, if he gave in completely, there would be no turning back. But I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted all of him, every part of him, and I wanted him to know that I wasn’t afraid of what that meant.
“Don’t stop,” I murmured against his lips, my voice low and breathless. “Please don’t stop.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine as if he were looking for any sign of hesitation, any hint that I might regret this later. But there was none. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I wasn’t going to back down now.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
In response, I kissed him again, hard and unyielding, letting him feel exactly how sure I was. And that was all the encouragement he needed. With a low groan, he lifted me onto the counter, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs as he pressed himself against me once more.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as our kisses grew more frantic, more desperate. It was as if all the pent-up tension, all the unspoken desires, were finally being unleashed, and there was no stopping it now. And I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted to let it consume us both.
A sense of satisfaction washed over me as I realized just how much control I had over him in that moment. Jaehyun, who was always so composed, so in control, was completely at my mercy, and the thought made my heart race with exhilaration. I had him—truly had him—and I wasn’t about to let that go.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I confessed between kisses, my voice trembling with a mixture of passion and triumph. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you, Jaehyun.”
His response was a deep, throaty moan as he trailed kisses down my neck, his hands gripping my waist tightly as if he were afraid I might slip away. “I shouldn’t want you like this,” he murmured against my skin, but there was no conviction in his words, only raw, unfiltered need. “But I do. God, I do.”
The admission sent a thrill of satisfaction through me, and I arched my back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I had won. In this moment, he was mine, and I reveled in the power that came with that knowledge.
“Then don’t fight it,” I whispered, my voice low and sultry, urging him on. “Don’t hold back, Jaehyun. I want all of you.”
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
The night had blurred into a haze of heated kisses and whispered confessions, a whirlwind of emotions that neither of us had been able to resist. Somewhere between the dim light of the café and the shadows of Jaehyun’s apartment, the world outside had ceased to exist. We had given in completely, surrendering to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
Now, as the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, I found myself nestled in Jaehyun’s bed, his strong arms wrapped around me. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of his breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as he shifted beside me.
Jaehyun was already awake, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if he were lost in thought. When he noticed me stirring, he turned his attention to me, his expression softening into something unreadable. He reached out, his fingers gently threading through my hair, playing with the silky strands as if he were trying to memorize the feel of them.
“I was unproblematic before I met you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something more tender. “Now, you’ve become my problem.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but there was no regret in his tone, only acceptance of the undeniable truth we had both tried so hard to ignore. I looked up at him, my heart fluttering at the way his eyes softened when they met mine.
“I could be your little secret, Jaehyun,” I whispered, my voice carrying a hint of mischief, a promise of something forbidden. The idea thrilled me—the thought of being the one thing he couldn’t resist, the one temptation he couldn’t walk away from. The truth is, I was never this kind of person either.
He sighed, his fingers still playing with my hair as he considered my words. “You don’t deserve to be a secret,” he said softly, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to me. “But I don’t know how to let you go.”
I smiled, leaning into his touch as I felt a surge of satisfaction. “Then don’t,” I replied simply, my voice laced with confidence. “Don’t let me go, Jaehyun. Keep me close, even if it’s just like this.”
His hand stilled in my hair, and he turned to face me fully, his gaze intense, searching. “You make it sound so easy,” he said, a trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But it’s not.”
“Nothing worth having is ever easy,” I whispered back, my hand reaching out to trace the lines of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingertips. “But you know as well as I do that some things are worth the risk.”
Jaehyun closed his eyes, his forehead resting against mine as he let out a deep breath. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with both admiration and resignation.
“Only to you,” I teased, brushing my lips against his in a feather-light kiss.
He let out a low chuckle, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. “I should be pushing you away,” he murmured, his lips grazing my temple. “But I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” I urged, my voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t think about anything else right now. Just let this be what it is.”
Jaehyun’s arms tightened around me, and I could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he surrendered to the moment. He kissed me then, soft and slow, as if sealing a promise that only we could understand.
As the morning light grew brighter, the reality of what we had done, of what we were doing, began to creep back in. But in that moment, wrapped up in Jaehyun’s embrace, I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care about the complications or the secrets we would have to keep.
All that mattered was that he was mine, even if just for now.
But then, my eyes flew wide open at the sound of the door swinging open with a sharp bang. I’m certain his did too.
“What the fuck?!”
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
epilogue - 3:00 am, 5 hours ago
As we lay there, Jaehyun’s hand absentmindedly traced patterns along my naked arm. There was a calm in the air, but underneath it, I could feel the weight of something unspoken between us. His fingers stilled, and he looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. His gaze never left mine, as if he were searching for the right words, or perhaps the courage to speak them.
I stayed quiet, sensing the importance of the moment, my heart pounding in anticipation of what he was about to say.
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” he continued, his eyes softening. “I never meant to feel the way I do about you. It just… happened. Slowly, quietly, before I even realized what was going on.”
He paused, his expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “At first, I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was just a fleeting attraction, something that would pass. But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to deny what was happening inside me.”
He shifted slightly, his hand moving to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly against my skin. “I started looking forward to seeing you every day. The way you’d smile when you walked into the café, the way you’d laugh at something silly I said—it all started to mean more to me than I wanted to admit.”
His gaze grew distant for a moment, as if he were reliving the memories he was sharing. “There were times when you’d be talking to me, and I’d catch myself staring at you, completely lost in how you made me feel. I tried so hard to keep it a secret, even from myself, but it was impossible. Every little thing about you drew me in deeper.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, the truth of his words wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.
Jaehyun sighed, his hand slipping down to take mine, intertwining our fingers. “Because I was afraid. Afraid of what it would mean, afraid of what we’d have to face if I admitted it. I didn’t want to complicate your life—or mine.”
“But you couldn’t help it,” I whispered, a small smile tugging at my lips.
He shook his head, a rueful smile on his own. “No, I couldn’t. The more I tried to distance myself, the more I realized that I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t escape you. And the truth is, I didn’t want to.”
His thumb stroked the back of my hand as he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I fell in love with you in secret, because I didn’t know how to do it any other way. You were everything I wasn’t supposed to want, but I couldn’t stop myself. And now… I don’t want to hide it anymore.”
Tears welled up in my eyes at his confession, but they were tears of relief, of joy. “Jaehyun…” I started, but he gently shushed me, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead.
“I know it’s complicated,” he said quietly, his lips lingering against my skin. “But I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to pretend that I don’t feel what I feel. I love you, and I want to be with you, no matter what we have to face.”
“What about her?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of reality we both knew we had to face.
Jaehyun’s expression faltered, the light in his eyes dimming as the gravity of the situation settled in. His hand tightened around mine, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid of what my question might mean for us.
He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. When he looked back at me, there was a sadness there, a regret that made my heart ache.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he admitted, his voice filled with a quiet pain. “She’s been nothing but good to me. But I can’t keep pretending that everything’s the same when it’s not. I can’t keep lying to her—or to myself.”
I nodded, understanding the turmoil he must be feeling. It was a difficult situation, one that was bound to leave scars no matter how carefully we navigated it. But we both knew that continuing to live a lie would only make things worse in the end.
“I don’t want to be the reason for her pain,” I whispered, my voice tinged with guilt. “But I also can’t change the way I feel about you.”
Jaehyun reached out, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked at me with a tenderness that made my heart ache. “This isn’t your fault,” he said gently. “You didn’t ask for this any more than I did. But I have to be honest—with her and with myself. I owe her that much.”
There was a long pause, the silence between us heavy with unspoken emotions. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his sense of responsibility and the undeniable pull he felt toward me.
“I’ll talk to her,” he finally said, his voice steady, though tinged with sadness. “I owe her the truth, even if it hurts. It’s the only way forward.”
My heart ached for him, for the difficult conversation he was about to face, but I knew he was right. We couldn’t build something real on a foundation of lies, no matter how much we wanted to.
“I’m here for you, Jaehyun,” I said softly, reaching out to take his hand in mine. “Whatever happens, I’m here.”
fin.
jaefluenza; navigation
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aetheternity · 2 years
Text
Fucking & Fighting
Synopsis: Play fighting with your archon boyfriend is something you should always assess the consequences of before doing.
A/N: Ok so if you're following me and you see this you'll know where it's from but for everyone else here's the post that gave me the idea to write this. (Yeah I write too much Venti smut what do you want from me??)
Disclaimer: This is afab reader x Venti. MDNI. brief mentions of being rough in this work.
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"Windblume~" Venti's spirited voice echoed down the hall until it found your ears. You hear the call of your partner again followed by the faint sound of a door opening then immediately shutting quickly after.
You weren't exactly hiding. Of course not, you'd never hide from Venti. But the sound of his voice getting closer made your stomach churn with a sort of anticipation.
"Are you.. here??" Followed instantly by a disappointed sigh. A new door, only a couple feet away soon being shut as well.
It was pretty understandable. All the rooms in the mansion looked alike and it seemed Venti's elder brain had its moments of disorientation. His footsteps trekked ever closer and when he stopped in front of your door, you found yourself tugging the blankets up over your head. And yeah this wasn't something you did often. In fact you found yourself taking a back seat to reassess for a moment. But things had already fallen into motion by this point.
The familiar creak of your door welcomed a singsongy and oh giggly tune of, "Windblume~" followed by a faint noise of surprise. Affirming blink perhaps maybe even another gesture you couldn't quite see with this blanket on top of you. A click of the door's confirming shut ringing across the completely silent room.
A chuckle, then an overly dramatized sigh and, "Oh where oh where might my Windblume be today?" The clicks of his shoes across the hardwood grew louder and a little faster as he stopped just beside your bed grabbing your waist so suddenly that you gasped. The blanket flopped off your head as you jolted away from his touch.
"Found you." He muttered, grin impossibly bright.
"Ve-" You nearly bounce off the bed. Those same fingers once idle on your waist dig into your back. Your hips wriggling around till he receives a full joyous scream as you writhe in his hold.
He really is far stronger than he appears. His grip only growing tighter as you slip and slide along the sheets, kicking your feet with each new beg for release. At some point you twist around far enough in your mess of limbs to grab a pillow from the edge of the bed launching it at full speed. The hat once sat atop Venti's head quickly falling to the floor behind him. He pauses now, lips parted in awe and you almost apologize, that is until his hands yank the pillow clean from your hands whacking you far harder than you'd hit him.
"You little.." The bed huffs in agony as you crawl up to the headboard.
"No, wait! You started it!" Venti chokes as he's soon assaulted with a pillow, covering his head with the one he'd snatched from you earlier as you rapidly thwack him.
You momentarily stop, "No I didn't! You were tickling-"
In your moment of restraint he ceases the opportunity. Your legs suddenly wrenched from beneath you. The pillow in your arms and the one he'd been using as a shield falling to the ground as he crawls atop you. You don't miss a beat, bracing for what you assume will be his revenge. Shocked to instead find your wrists captured and quickly pinned above your head. Before you can react Venti's lips are slotting over yours. His thumbs so soothing against your warm skin. Yet still firm anytime you tried to free them.
"Venti.." You sigh into his mouth. Adjusting with him as he splays his legs on either sides of your waist. "Venti, I-"
His braids tickled your cheeks as you gaze into those darkening green/blue irises. The heat of it all feeling as though it were settling on every inch of your skin. His resolve broke, crumbling as he drew ever closer to you. Breath fanning the bridge of your nose.
"Someone's not wearing a bra." He whispered with a low hum. "Were you trying to tease me, Darling Windblume?"
"Is that why you decided to start a fight with me?" You giggle against his lips. "Cause you wanted to touch them?"
"Perhaps, or perhaps I just really felt like tickling you today."
"Pervert." You fake pout.
His laugh is breathy, gentle as the fingers running along the curve of your spine. He traps you in yet another kiss drifting his hands slowly upwards. Your shirt sliding up as they're pushed along by his wrists. You arch your back allowing for the warm fabric to fall away, revealing taut nipples just beneath. Your grin almost childish at the sparkle that glints in the corner of his eyes. Nothing he'd never seen before but that look and that deep shudder of a breath that escaped him never failed to excite you. In more ways than one.
He dips his head to trap your right nipple between his lips. The slick suction so quickly intense on one side while his free hand busied with the left areola. This one spot on your body always had been his favorite. The perfect distraction to allow for your leg to drift along his inner thigh. Adjusting ever so slightly to slip just between his legs.
"Aww Ven, you're practically bursting out of your shorts." You sneer, taking into account the way his eyes flick up to meet yours. Flinching and grappling at the hand that soon replaces your leg between his thighs. But he doesn't bother to remove the touch. "Is this my influence on the great Anemo Archon at its finest."
He doesn't respond. With words that is. Now detached from your chest aside from one hand still affectionately squeezing your tit. His head hangs as he greedily circles his hips back and forth and round and round in the perfect tempo to make his jaw slack. Just the right motions for his chest to cave and his bottom lip to quiver. Your wrist trapped between his clenching thighs while his tiny whimpers alight flames in the pit of your stomach.
"Don't you want these shorts off, Ven?"
It had been quite a while since Venti had come to see you last. Judging by his reactions and how hard up his body seemed for even your smallest touches it might have affected him far more than he was admitting. You noted in your mind how much easier it was to undo his corset than when you'd first done it, happy to watch the article of clothing fall to the floor. Followed by his cape, blouse, shoes, stockings and lastly his shorts. Which were the quickest to go, his drooling tip bobbing around as he moved to help you undress as well.
When he kisses you again it's far rougher, filled with need as his incisors nip at your bottom lip. Tugging it open for his tongue. Meanwhile you found your hands sliding over every lithe curve of Venti's stomach, hips and back. Delighted by how warm his skin felt as though it were your first time with him all over again. His body was so incredibly soft to the touch. Every expanse so firm and nearly any drag of your fingertips made him shiver in ecstasy. Especially the tiny pinches you administered to his nipples.
It'd distracted you so well you weren't privy to where his fingers had moved until they were tugging a moan from your throat. Your cunt welcoming his fingers with no resistance. He straightened up keeping your hips locked in with his thighs, your legs already beginning to quiver as he scissors your flexing pussy.
"Windblume.. I don't want to be gentle anymore." He states firmly
"I'll take it, I promise."
The gasp you let out is noisy, reverberates in a clash off the walls of your bedroom as he adds a third finger. Pounding all three into your spot until you're squirming, inching away from his touch. The sensation gathering in your belly like a clash of pain and pleasure so deep your eyes shut. Then as suddenly as it arrives Venti's retracting his fingers.
You don't even begin to fully exhale before his cock is penetrating your sopping opening, not even bothering to stop until he's balls deep. His moan of your name so throaty and filled with contentment that it almost sounds like a thank you. Followed almost immediately by open mouthed kisses to your face.
"Love, I can't.. can't stay still anymore.. I wanna fuck you." He whispers
The tip of his cock instantly ruts harshly against your spot, so dangerously near your cervix. You find yourself clinging for dear life as Venti only speeds forward, his breathing so harsh against your ear canal. Your nails scrap skin up from his back trying desperately to find any kind of purchase with the way he's so violently fucking inside you.
The pounding of the headboard just behind you two continues to feel louder and louder but it still doesn't out do Venti's pants of your name. The way he chokes and whimpers with every clench of your cunt.
"Windblume.. you're sucking me in so deep.." You can nearly feel the roll of his eyes. "Did your pussy forget me?.. I've been gone.. too long.. because this feels.. so much better than I.... remember."
You can barely form a coherent reply, only his name floods off your lips as you scream for- who knows at this point.
His face dips into the crook of your neck. Sucking sections of your damp skin until it bloomed a bright pink. His free hand cupping and massaging your breasts. Switching between the right and left to give each side an equal amount of attention. Your nails soon leave his back, traveling up the nape of his neck to guide his head.
"I'm gonna cum.. love.." He whimpers, moving the hand that once fondled your breasts to your stomach as he abuses only your spot till you're sobbing and shaking.
Your own orgasm fast approaching with every slide of his cock. He leans back over your lips letting every noise in his body escape against the wild clash. Every second you squeeze him only making his movements that much more harsh. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, white flashes burning into your retinas. Your back arching away as you were hit with immediate overstimulation.
"I'm there, I'm there, Windblume!" Venti's cock twitched with every drop of cum that escaped him. His exhales fluttering over your chest. A couple of quieter moans filtered from his mouth now as his climax ended with your pussy still softly squeezing around him.
His lips pressed against the crown of your head. "Sorry, did I get too carried away?"
You sighed eyes threatening to shut, "Maybe a little at the end but you clearly needed me sooner." A quick kiss to his chin then cheek. "You should've come."
"I wouldn't have been able to stay for long." He whispers "I don't want your mind to drift until you talk yourself into believing I only want, no, need sex from you."
"I've never thought that, Ven."
"Please never think that.."
You give a light chuckle, "I don't."
"Good." His palms slide up to your face coming up to rest on your cheeks. His kiss is far softer yet still a touch needy. "I can buy you breakfast while I'm here, I raked in extra mora from performing. So whatever you want tomorrow is yours."
"Apples and cheese then?" You giggle at the crease of his eyebrows.
"How dare you try to ruin a perfectly good apple.." He snorts playfully
"How about this: pillow fight, loser has to go out earlier and get whatever the victor wants for breakfast."
"Better proposition we just have sex again because that's what would inevitably happen anyway annnddd fight about who's gonna get breakfast tomorrow, tomorrow."
"Sounds like a fair trade."
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I've let this wolf into my home (I feed it even when it bites)
Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here
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pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.5k
genre: fluff ??
warnings: you don't know red robin and timmy are the same person but he sure knows you, he's also so so awkward but he can't help it
a/n: alright alright alright here we go <3
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The jingle of the coffee shop door opening startles you, your head snapping up from where you're sitting, slouched over in the corner. It's a 24-hour shop, yes, but who else would really be here at 3am? The barista behind the counter looks just as surprised, blinking rapidly and looking at the person who came in.
You, on the other hand, opt not to, sighing and looking back down at your table, instead. The coffee in your to-go cup is still hot, burning your fingers as you shift them over the label. It's bright, a cartoonish sort of thing that grins up at you like an old friend you should be happier to see. You've been getting this coffee for years. You're never quite as happy as you should be.
The chair opposite you makes a horrible sort of sound as it's pulled out and you look up to see who's sitting across from you. You purse your lips in annoyance while he just looks at you.
"All the other tables have just been cleaned. They're wet," he points out. You let your eyes flit around the cafe, the tabletops shining wetly in the dull glow of the lights, the disinfectant bottle still sitting abandoned on one of them.
"Lucky me," you bite back, taking a sip of your coffee. It's sweet - too sweet, but not enough to cover the bitterness of the burnt grounds. You always think that if you pile enough sugar into it, it'll mask what's wrong. You're never right.
The man sitting opposite you takes a sip of his own - he left it black, you notice. He grimaces slightly at the taste, but keeps drinking anyway. There's no effort there to pretend it's anything other than what it is - burnt, cheap coffee sold to him in a cafe full of ghosts, in a city that should be sleeping but never really does. It's interesting, you think, as you look out the window and into the dark street. You'd almost managed to convince yourself that you were really alone - that there was no one else in this world except you, until he walked in and broke the reverie of your 3am silence.
For what it's worth, Tim regretted it as soon as he'd walked in. He hadn't meant to stay, really - ending up in a part of Gotham he didn't often find himself in, in his civvies and in desperate need of a hot cup of coffee and a long sleep, he'd stumbled across the flickering, neon sign of a 24-hour coffee shop.
What good luck, he'd thought. Now, sitting across from you, there's a desperate little part of him that thinks maybe it wasn't just that - maybe it was intuition that drew him here. You don't know who he is, of course, all your previous meetings happening in the shadows of your home with his face hidden from you. Tim shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of how naked he feels, exposed to your wandering eyes. 
And you do let your eyes wander, narrowing them suspiciously as you take him in. Tim feels a pang of guilt that surprises him when he thinks that this is probably how you've always felt with him - like a lamb with a wolf at your door. As you lean back in your chair, swirling your coffee and letting your gaze trail away from him and towards the window, he feels his shoulders drop in relief. He's not the only wolf in your living room late at night, he realizes. You've got teeth of your own that he'd just never noticed.
You're good at this, Tim thinks with a start - you've got a foot propped up on the window sill next to you, your head resting in your hand as you watch the street outside idly. Or, at least, it's supposed to look like that. He thinks that if he were anyone normal, he would believe it. But Tim has spent enough time as prey to know when someone's pretending to let their guard down.
He looks away from you almost forcefully, staring down at his cup and running his tongue over his teeth as he thinks of the burnt taste of it. He wonders if you were smart enough to put sugar in yours - wise enough to bury the bitterness with something nicer. It's something he always thinks he should do. He can never quite make himself. 
"I'm sure those other tables are dry now." Your voice makes him flinch, a hard, forceful thing that cuts through the silence of the night that's blanketed the two of you. Tim looks around at the dull, streaky tabletops and shrugs. 
"I'm already comfortable here," he offers. You cock your head to the side and look at him, but make no move to fight him on it. He thinks it's probably stupid of him, inviting a lion into his home like this. He wonders if you feel the same way every time he slides in through your balcony door.
There's a silence that, once more, overtakes the two of you as he shifts in his seat. Tim wonders if he should drink faster, if he should pretend to be finished so that he can leave. It's funny, he thinks, how he finally felt like he'd stopped running away when he started running into you. It's funny that, now, he's itching for it, his hands gripping his cup in an attempt to still his heart - his need to escape.
You look back at him just in time to see him squeeze a little too hard, the cheap plastic lid popping off and hot coffee sloshing a bit over his hands. A mild, bemused sort of look crosses your face as you watch him curse and splutter as the coffee burns his hands and spills onto the table. Then, without a word, you stand up and begin to walk away.
Tim, in the meantime, is rubbing his hands against his jeans, his eyes squeezed shut in mortification as he wonders how he ruined it all so quickly. Not for the first time, he wishes he was in the mask - thinks maybe the only way to hold onto you is to make sure that's all you ever see. But then your cup scrapes across the table and he opens his eyes to see you sitting opposite him again, sipping idly and watching. There's a stack of napkins that he swore wasn't there before and - oh.
"Thanks," is all he can make himself say as he grabs them, cleaning up the mess he's made. As he goes to pop the lid back onto his cup, he looks at the dark liquid inside and grimaces, deciding that maybe it's not worth it.
"It's shit coffee," you say, and he slams his hand against the table, crushing the plastic lid in the process. Truly, he's not sure if he's ever acted this nervous before. You pay it no mind. He thinks maybe he could take off his mask, just this once, and reaches up to his face in time to remember that he's already exposed to you. "You're better off finding something else… or just going somewhere else." Tim smiles, then, a charming sort of thing that has you narrowing your eyes.
"I dunno,' he says. "There's something I like about right here." You glance down at your own cup, at the label that you've picked and peeled off until it's unrecognizable, the colours torn and cracked.
"There's nothing good about right here. And things like that don't change." Tim looks at you for a long moment after you speak, letting the words tumble around his head before he stands, taking his cup and squished lid and pile of wet napkins with him. 
"Well, I've never been big on change, anyway," is all he says as he walks away, dumping everything in the bin and letting the bell on the door jingle as he walks out. Looking back down to the table, you notice the card he's left behind - the Wayne Ent. logo flashing behind his name. Flipping it over, his number's been written in a hasty scrawl.
As you thumb a corner of the card, you wonder when he'd slipped it onto the table - when he'd written on it. Mostly, you wonder what kind of person he'd have to be to do it without you noticing. You trace the numbers with your finger and think that something, far in the back of your mind, is telling you that there's a familiarity about it all. 
But what's familiar about seeing someone in a place where you never should? What's normal about that man, appearing like a ghost in the night and disappearing just as fast? As you pull out your phone to add his number to your contacts, there's a part of you that thinks maybe you should run away - that maybe you're not the only thing stalking the streets of Gotham this late.
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billybob598 · 1 year
Text
Well Shit (Lena Oberdorf x Reader)
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Hellooo people!!! This was requested by the amazing, lovely, (almost) perfect @wosofanstuff! Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ares3460!!!!!!!! I LOVE MY GRANDMA. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one. As always any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Have fun!
Word Count: 865 (let's ignore this)
Lena observes as you go through finishing drills, dribbling around the cones seamlessly and completing a give-and-go with Lynn flawlessly. To anyone else, it would have looked like Lena was watching you because of your skills. Instead, she was admiring how beautiful you looked, how your hair fell just right over your shoulders, how your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration as you controlled the ball, how your legs flexed when you kicked the ball, how the sun shined onto your face making you look ethereal. Yeah, it was fair to say that Lena was whipped. Luckily, you had been dating for a little over three months now. The German midfielder had no idea how she managed to convince you on a date, but by some miracle of God, she did. No one knew that you were together, both of you agreed that it would be too much stress on the relationship if the team knew. You loved them to bits, but sometimes they could be the nosiest people ever. 
“Obi?” A voice breaks her out of her trance.
“Huh?” Jule just chuckles at the confused look on the young German’s face.
“I know Y/N is an amazing player but we have to go do media,” she tells her friend.
“Oh, yeah, okay,” Lena’s cheeks heat up at being caught staring at you. Thankfully Jule just thought she was watching because you were good.
 Later that night, you’re at your apartment when your phone dings from an incoming text. 
Obi💚
Can I come over?
Of course xx
Be there in 5
Sure enough, a knock drew you away from the kitchen five minutes later. When you open the door you’re met with your girlfriend in an oversized hoodie and two cans of Fanta in hand. Fully opening the door so she can walk inside, you watch as she expertly moves around your home, proving how much time she spends there. 
“What are you making?” She asks, gesturing to the kitchen.
“Spaghetti. Have you eaten yet?” You say heading back to check on the pasta sauce. 
“No.”
“Okay, it should be ready in like five minutes,” you wander back to the living room to see your girlfriend already setting up a movie on Netflix. 
The movie plays in the background as you eat your dinner, with light conversation continuing throughout the night. When the movie ends, Lena picks up the dirty dishes and begins to clean the kitchen. You sit on the island watching her. How one person could be so perfect you have no idea. 
“You’re staring,” Lena says with a smirk. You roll your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck.
“No, I wasn’t,” you say defensively. Her smirk only gets wider as she raises her eyebrows. God, how you wanted to just kiss the smirk right off her face. 
“Sure, schatz.”
“If anyone is staring it’s you,” you say, deciding to turn the tables on her.
“What?” She asks confused.
“I saw you staring at training today, you were practically drooling.” Now it’s Lena’s turn to blush.
“Shut up,” she mutters and throws the towel she was using at you. You laugh, music to her ears. A smile works its way onto her face and she walks around the counter picks you up and gently places you on top of the counter. Considering she’s got a good three inches on you, it’s not that difficult. She steps in between your legs, slowly reaches up and caresses your cheek. Your eyes flicker down to her lips and without hesitation, Lena tilts her head up and presses her lips against yours. One of your hands moves to her hair, running through it. Lena lets out a soft moan. You immediately take advantage and slip your tongue inside. The two tongues fight for dominance while Lena’s hand grips onto your waist. Her other hand finds the small of your back. Your senses are overwhelmed, the feeling of her lips on yours, her hair between your fingers, her hands all over your body, just…her. Then, she removes her mouth from your and starts to plant wet kisses down your neck. They get lower and lower and lower until-
“What the fuck?!” Someone yells, interrupting the makeout session. Both of you jump apart looking very startled. You freeze when you see half of the team standing there watching you with their jaws hanging and eyes comically wide.
“Well shit,” Lena mumbles, pulling away from you a little more. Of course, you had completely forgotten that you had given a spare key to Sveindís. And of course, she chose that night to break in and bring half the team for an impromptu movie night. Everyone was silent for a few more seconds when finally Alex spoke up,
“Are you two like, together?” You glance warily at Obi, she looks at you with a soft smile and slips her hand into yours before answering,
“Yeah, we are.” This opens up the floodgates.
“Oh my God!”
“How long have you been dating?”
“Who asked out who?”
“Who else knows?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
“I knew it!”
It’s safe to say that movie night did not happen.
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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
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In The Way I Need You | Part 9
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Series Masterlist
➪in which you and clay label your relationship, and you also get some exciting news that he’s more than excited to celebrate with you, until you discover something from his past that has you second guessing things.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 5.8k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“I’m hungry,” Joey whined as you looked over at him with a smile from your spot at the kitchen table.
Your laptop was open in front of you, various job offers open on the tabs. “All you’ve done is eat since you got home from school,” you laugh and he pouts at you, making your smile grow a bit as you get up. “Alright, babe, I’ll get started on dinner.”
Joey smiled at you as he colored in the dog you outlined for him. “Can we have grilled cheese?” He asked and you nodded instantly, setting down the jar of tomato sauce and grabbing the loaf of bread instead. 
“Great idea,” you agree and move over to the stove. “What do you think? Should we make one for your dad? Like the first night I babysat you?” 
Joey nodded instantly with a smile. “Yeah!” You smile back and begin making the sandwiches as he added, “My dad doesn’t make things as good as you do.”
You hold back a laugh as you place a piece of bread in the pan. “That’s because your grandma spoiled him,”
Joey sets his orange crayon down and it rolls to the floor as he asks, “Am I spoiled?” 
Shaking your head, you walk over to him and bend down to pick up the crayon. “No,” you answer and kiss his cheek as you set the crayon onto the table. “You’re just sweet.”
He laughs at that and picks up a red crayon to get started on the house he drew earlier, and you resume your task of making dinner. 
Throughout the next hour, Joey effortlessly cracked you up with every little joke he made, and after you cleaned up the kitchen and let him draw one last picture, you scooped him up in your arms as you carried him out of the dining room and towards the stairs. 
Just as you step out into the hall, Clay ascends the first staircase with a tired look on his handsome face. “Hey,” he greets as he shrugs off his jacket. 
“Hi,” you say back as he leans down and kisses the top of Joey’s head. You blush when he discreetly kisses the side of yours before his son could see. “We’re just about to go have a bath.”
Clay nods and ruffles Joey’s hair. “Sounds good. I’ll be up to say goodnight, okay?”
Joey nods and clings onto your shirt as you gesture towards the kitchen. “I made you something,” you tell him and watch as his gaze softens. 
“Grilled cheese, daddy,” Joey beamed. “Like the first night.”
Clay’s expression shifts and it had you squeezing your thighs together as his blue eyes darkened the smallest bit. “Like the first night, huh?” He asked and placed his hand on your lower back.
Your breath hitches and you nod quickly. “At Joey’s request,” say quietly and the look he was now giving you was making you feel lightheaded. “You go eat, I’ll get him ready for bed.”
Clay lifted your shirt and ran his fingers along the bare skin of your back before he nodded. “Okay,” he then gently guided you towards the staircase. 
You were shaking a bit as you made your way up, and you had a hard time focusing on the task of bathing Joey and getting him clothed in his pajamas as you thought about the man downstairs. 
Clay was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time. You felt like a young teen again who had her first crush and was beginning to discover all the ways a boy can make her feel. 
It was driving you crazy and you wanted him badly. 
“Goodnight, Joey,” you say as you tuck him under his covers. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiled up at you with tired eyes as he held onto his teddy bear. 
Just then Clay enters the room with the same look somewhat hidden in his eyes, and you move out of the way as he walks over to Joey. “Night, buddy,” he murmured, bending down to kiss his forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you,” the four year old said back before he closed his eyes and Clay began leading you out of the room. 
-
Clay wasn’t sure why his body felt like it was on fire right now. 
He was fine when he got home, and then you reminded him of the first night you watched Joey, and he thought about all that had happened since then, and now he found himself wanting you. 
He wanted to show you how much he appreciates you and adores having you around all the time, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep his hands off you. 
Clay quietly shut Joey’s door behind him, and then he was alone with you in the hallway. Pulling you towards him with his hands on your waist, he leans down and connects your lips in a kiss that had him holding back a pathetic moan. 
He had only gone on one date with you, but he was already so whipped. 
You kiss him back with the same amount of neediness before pulling away with a breathless laugh, trailing your hands up his arms as you ask, “Did you have a good day or do you always come home in this good of a mood?”
“Had a good day,” he answered as he pulled you further down the hall and away from his son’s room. “An even better night.”
You laugh again and look up at him with wide eyes as he gently pushes you up against his closed bedroom door, his hands pushing up your shirt in order for him to be able to feel the smooth skin of your hips. “That’s good,” you trail off as he tugs at the belt loops on your jeans. “Clay.”
The way you said his name had him growling slightly. “I want you, baby,” he rasped and pressed kisses along your neck. “Will you let me taste you all over?”
You moan and lean your head back against the door as you nod quickly. “Yes,” you gave him a verbal answer when he didn’t advance any further, and he grinned at you before dropping to his knees. His fingers pop open the button on your jeans before he pulls the zipper down, his mouth pressing multiple kisses to the skin of your abdomen. “Clay.”
He groaned and pushed your jeans down your legs, running his hands up the backs of your thighs and creating goosebumps along your skin. “God, you make me crazy,” he muttered, leaning in and pressing an open mouthed kiss to your left hip. 
Your hands move to gently tug on his hair, his name tumbling from your lips again in a soft moan. Clay runs the tip of his tongue along the hem of your plain black panties before kissing you through the fabric and grinning at the way your body shook slightly. “You make me…make me crazy, too,” 
Clay hums in acknowledgement as he pulls at the lace. “Can I take these off, pretty girl?” You nod quickly and Clay slides the black material down your legs. He holds back a moan as he sees the most private part of you for the first time. “You’re pretty everywhere, huh, baby?”
Your soft whine meets his ears and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and licking a stripe up your wet folds. “Clay,” you moan and make a mess of his hair as your legs shake. “I can’t….can’t hold myself up if you’re going to do that. You make me feel things, Clay. I don’t think you realize just how perfect you are.”
Clay groans quietly. “Tell me,” he softly requested as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. “Tell me what makes me perfect, because I’m pretty sure that you’re the perfect one here.”
“You’re….God, you’re such a good dad, Clay…seeing the way you interact with Joey sends me into a frenzy every time,” you begin in a quiet tone as you didn’t want to wake Joey up. “You’re so kind and sweet…sexy, fuck, you’re so sexy, Clay, it drives me insane.”
Clay laughed at that and it had you moaning louder than before. “You’ve got me blushing down here,” he teased as he hiked one of your thighs onto his shoulder. “Is that all?” 
He runs his index finger along your folds and you squirm a bit as you shake your head. “You always tell me to let you know that I got home safely…you care about everyone around you, including me for some reason,”
“I care about you because I like you, Y/n, a lot,” you blush at his words and softly caress his jaw with your fingers when licked up and down your slit. “And again, I do the bare minimum for you, but I want that to change.” 
He wanted to do everything for you, wanted to take care of you and Joey and come home to see the two of you all the time. 
It was way too early to be thinking about those kinds of things, but he couldn’t help it. You were perfect in every way, how could he not picture himself with you when you were what he had always wanted? 
“It’s okay,” you mumble, grinding against his mouth. “You do a lot for me, too.”
“Not enough,” he disagreed and pressed you against the door by your hips. “You make things easier for us, baby. For all of us.”
You whimper at his sweet words and he feels you push up against his hold as he sucks your bundle of nerves into his mouth. “Oh, God,” you moaned, making a real mess of his usually neat hair. “Feels so good, Clay.”
He hummed at that, and the sounds you were making went straight to his dick, but this wasn’t about him. It was about you and showing you how much he appreciated you since he wasn’t able to come up with the right words. 
Your grip on his hair tightened with each swipe of his tongue against you, and before long he was met with the beautiful sight of you coming undone above him. Your body shook and writhed against his mouth, and he cleaned up any evidence of what he made you do within seconds as you whimpered and whined. “Fuck, Clay,” you laughed when he finally pulled away before you got too stimulated. He pulled your jeans back up before standing to his full height and towering over you. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said back, “I missed you yesterday.” 
“You saw me on Saturday,” you laugh as you brace your hands on his shoulders.  
He steadies you with a small smirk. “That’s too long,”
You shake your head with a playful eye roll as you watch him bend down to pick up your panties and stuff them into his pocket. “Am I gonna get those back?” 
Clay grinned and shook his head. “Consider it the first piece of clothing you leave at your…boyfriend’s house,” he said the last two words more quietly than the rest as he still wasn’t sure what the two of you were. 
Your eyes widen and you fail to hold back a pretty smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Boyfriend?” 
Clay felt his face heat up in fear that he may have overstepped a bit. “Too soon?”
You shake your head and kiss him quickly. “I don’t think so,” you answer. “People become official after just one date sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” He laughed and felt one of your hands slide down his chest. 
“Yeah, sometimes. I think we have a good thing here, though, Clay,” Your teasing smile, mixed with the way your hand was nearing his semi hard-on, had his breath catching in his throat. “Can I show my boyfriend how much I appreciate him?”
He really wanted you to, but he also didn’t want you to think that he was expecting it. Though, he also didn’t want to reject you, but luckily he didn’t have to as he heard his mom call out for him downstairs. “Raincheck?”
You nod and kiss him quickly before pulling away completely. “That’s my cue to go,” you mumble and begin to make your way to the stairs. 
Clay curses under his breath and adjusts himself in his pants before following after you. Hearing you call him your boyfriend had sealed his fate, and now he was fully hard but wouldn’t be able to take care of it until he was alone in his room. “Oh, there you are,” his mom smiled as she watched him descend the stairs behind you. “Both of you.”
You smile at her and take a deep breath, making Clay hold back a smirk at the redness still visible on your face. He couldn’t believe he had just gone down on you in the upstairs hall a few seconds ago, but he loved every single second of it. He wanted to get you alone like that more often, but the very obvious elephant in the room was standing in front of him. 
“Hi, Mrs. Beresford,” you greeted in a kind tone, and his mother just smiled at you.
“Y/n. You get the day off tomorrow,” she stated and Clay felt his own smile drop. “I have a meeting I can attend from home, so I’ll be able to pick up Joey from school.”
“Oh, okay,” you nod and look back at Clay. “I’ll just see you both on Wednesday, then?”
His mom smiled again as she nodded and walked around the two of you and up the stairs. You turn to him with a pout he wanted to kiss so badly and take his hand in yours. 
“That sucks, I won’t get to see you and Joey tomorrow,”
Clay shook his head as he guided you towards the first staircase. “You could swing by at dinner time,” he offered and you smiled up at him as you made it to the front door.
“You think your mom would mind?” You ask as you shrug your jacket on and slip into your converse. 
“She’s not the only one who lives here, pretty girl,” he pointed out and you rolled your eyes. 
“Right, I totally forgot,” 
He laughed and brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it as he said. “Have a good night,”
“You too,” you smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”
Clay nodded and let you pull your hand free and leave his house, and it had been a whole thirty seconds before he began missing you. He missed the taste of you, and now that he’s had a moment alone with you in that way, he wanted more. 
He had to force himself to go back upstairs and get ready for bed, and after he was done showering he saw that you had texted him to let him know that you had gotten home safely.
He texted you back with a simple goodnight, then added a cheeky line about how he already missed the feeling of your body against his.
The next morning, Clay got ready for work and kissed Joey before leaving him in the care of his mom, and he was in the back of Rick’s car when you called him. He couldn’t even greet you before you were announcing, “I got that job!”
You sounded so happy, Clay was powerless to stop a smile from forming on his lips. “The one at that coffee shop?” 
“Yes!” You answer excitedly. “Jess called me a few minutes ago. I start on Thursday.”
“That’s awesome, baby,” he said as he got out of the car. “I knew you’d get it. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you were quiet for a few seconds before you spoke again, “I got the morning shifts, so I can still babysit Joey after school.” 
That had him letting out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in. “That’s good. I won’t lose you as soon as I got you,” 
He knew you were blushing as you said, “You sure know how to make me feel special, Clay,” and laughed afterwards. “Jess invited me out for drinks tonight. Said she wanted to get to know me before my first shift, so I can’t come over for dinner.” 
“That sounds fun,” he said as he pushed the button for the elevator. “It might be nice to spend a night away from the kid, huh?”
You scoffed. “I’d rather spend it with you, but it’ll be good to get to know my boss,” you thought out loud before you added, “Must be nice to be your own boss, Mr Businessman.”
Clay laughed as the elevator arrived at the ground floor. “Trust me, it’s not all it’s made out to be,” he responded. “I’m getting into an elevator now, so I’ll probably lose you. Do you need a ride home later?”
“Maybe…I’ll let you know,” you answered. “I don’t want to wake you up, I might be out late.”
“I don’t mind,” he rasped as he entered the elevator. “Call me later, okay?”
“Okay,” you agree. “Have a good day.”
“You too,” he said back before he ended the call with a dumb smile on his face.
-
“Thank you so much for the opportunity!” You yell over the loud music at the bar. “I appreciate you taking a chance on me, despite my lack of experience.”
“It’s no problem, really,” Jess yelled back and smiled at you before taking a shot. You looked around the crowded room with tired eyes, and you knew you were close to your limit as your vision was beginning to blur. “Have you ever been here before?”
“No,” you answer and sip on your gin and tonic. “I’ve only been here for about a month, haven’t gotten out much yet.”
“Oh, babe, stay with me,” she laughed and placed her hand on your arm. “I know all the good places around here, and most of them don’t cost an arm and a leg to get in.”
You laugh, too. “Good to know,”
The music was making your head pound a bit, and when you checked the time on your phone, you saw that Clay had texted you a few minutes ago.
Clay Beresford: Hope you’re having a good night. The kid misses you, and so do I. 
You smile and blink away the blurriness as you text him back,
I miss you both! My night is going pretty well. A bit tired, though. 
Jess slides you a shot and you both take one as the song changes to a fast paced one, and that causes a table of guys a few rows down from yours to cheer loudly. Your new boss laughed and waved in their direction, but you just shook your head and playfully rolled your eyes. 
“What?” She asked with a laugh. “None of them catch your eye?”
You glance over your shoulder and look at each of the six guys before turning back to her and shaking your head. “No,” 
“Wow, tough critic,” she observed, reaching over and stealing the lime from the edge of your glass. “You already have a boyfriend then, I’m assuming?”
You begin to shake your head again, then remember the moment you shared with Clay last night, when he literally pushed you up against his bedroom door and went down on you, then called himself your boyfriend. “Actually, yeah,” you say with a smile. “As of last night.”
“No way,” she grinned and completely tuned out the table of guys as she slid her chair closer to yours, sucking on the lime as she asked, “Is he cute?”
You laughed and nodded, feeling like you and Jess were two old friends catching up. You were really hoping that a real, professional relationship could be formed with her, since your last attempt at one ended up with you dating the guy. “He’s very cute,” you reply and feel your phone buzz again. “That’s probably him now.”
Jess coos at you as she finishes off her beer and sets it down in the middle of the round table. 
Clay Beresford: Are you thinking about calling it a night soon? I can come pick you up.
You look at the time and realize that it was well past one in the morning, and it seemed like he hadn’t gone to sleep yet. “Oh, wow, it’s late,” you laugh in your tipsy state, and Jess pulls out her phone, too. 
“Fuck, it is,” she agreed and pulled out her wallet. “I should get going, but this was fun. I’m really excited to have you work at the shop with me.”
“Me, too,” you smile as she stands up. “How much-”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves you off. “I got the tab.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she answered and pulled out some cash. “I invited you out, remember? Bills on me.”
You smile at her as you stand up as well. “Thank you, Jess, really,”
She smiled back and pulled you into a hug. “No worries,” she beamed, swaying slightly. “I’m gonna call a cab. Do you need a ride home?”
You open your mouth to respond just as your phone went off with an incoming call. “Um, I think I’m good,” you say and she nods, waving at you as she wanders off towards the bar. “Hi, boyfriend.” You sing when you accept the call.
“Hi,” he said back with a laugh. “You okay?”
“I’m fantastic,” you answer as you head over to the exit. “But I may actually need you to come get me.”
“Okay,” he murmured and you heard shuffling come from his end. “Where are you?”
“Uh, Hanson’s Pub,” you reply and hear the sound of a car door opening and closing. “I hope Rick isn’t mad he has to drive this late.”
“I don’t think he is,” Clay mumbled. “He’s probably sleeping right now.”
“What?” You ask as you lean against the wall beside the doors. “Don’t tell me you’re driving right now, Clay.”
“Okay, I won’t,” he said and you could hear the humor in his voice. 
“Clay! I thought you weren’t supposed to be driving…you know, because of your condition,” 
“Don’t worry about me, pretty girl,” was all he said and you sighed. “Just stay safe until I get there, okay?”
You hum in agreement, “Alright, but I’m chewing you out when I get in that car,”
“That’s fine,” he laughed. “I’ll be there soon,”
Then he hung up, and you were left to wait only a few minutes before walking outside and recognizing the black car across the street from the bar. You look both ways before crossing the empty road, bending to look at him when he rolled the window down with that smug smile painted on his lips. 
“Why do I find you being behind a wheel so sexy?” You ask as you lean in and kiss him deeply. 
He looked tired, and while that made you feel a bit guilty, you were also a bit turned on at his appearance. You were so used to seeing him dressed in formal clothing, so to be greeted with the sight of him in grey sweats and a white tee was a real treat. “Beats me,” he shrugged, nodding towards the passenger side door. “Get in, pretty girl.”
You hum and kiss him again before walking around the front of the car and settling in the passenger seat. “I can’t believe you’re driving me home right now,” you laugh and slur your words a bit. “Can’t believe I find it so hot.”
“You’ve had a lot to drink, huh, baby?” He grinned over at you as he drove in the direction of his house. 
“Maybe,” you trail off, looking at the dark surroundings. “Did you already forget where I live? My place is back there.”
“I know,” he laughed. “I just don’t like the idea of you nursing a hangover tomorrow by yourself.”
You gasp and jump a bit in your seat. “Are we having a sleepover?” You ask and lean over to place your hand on his thigh.
“Not that kind of sleepover,” he replied and took your hand in his. “Is that okay?”
“You’re asking me if I’m okay with sleeping in your bed?” You scoff and lace your fingers together. “I’d be dumb to reject that offer. I missed you today.”
Clay brings your joined hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of yours. “I missed you, too,”
The rest of the car ride went by in a comfortable silence, and you were stumbling a bit when you got out of the car after he parked on the side of the road. “Maybe I did have too much to drink,” you mutter as he walks over to you and wraps your arm around his shoulders. “But I’m lucky that my very attractive boyfriend is such a good guy and offered to take care of me.”
“Did I offer to do that?” He grunted as he helped you inside his house. “You must be thinking of someone else.”
You laugh loudly, then slap your hand over your mouth as you look over at Clay with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet,”
Clay just shook his head and guided you all the way upstairs and into his room, holding up most of your bodyweight as he did so. He gestured for you to sit on the edge of his bed, and you looked around the room you had only been in once with hooded eyes. 
“You’re so strong,” you slurred as he walked back to the door and locked it before kneeling on the floor in front of you. You gaze down at him with an excited grin as you press your thighs together. “Is this part two of what happened yesterday?” 
Shaking his head, Clay laughed quietly at the way your lips dropped in a pout. “Maybe when you’re sober,” he said as he took off your heels and set them onto the floor next to the bed. 
“Yeah,” you agreed in a tired tone as you lifted your arms. “I want to be able to clearly remember every second I get alone with you.”
Clay grunted softly as he tugged off your dress and grabbed one of his tees from his laundry basket. 
You snorted, “I just put your laundry away not that long ago, Clay,” you murmur as he slides the shirt over your body. “How do you possibly have that much again?”
“Are you forgetting the fact that we got together after you started babysitting my kid? Kids are messy,” He grinned down at you before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
You nod with a yawn and stand up, only to lay down on the left side of his bed. 
You get under the covers as Clay turned the lights off and got in bed next to you, his brows furrowed in worry as he asked, “Are you okay?”
Nodding again, you slide over and rest your head on his chest. “More than okay,” you answer. “Thank you for getting me.”
He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled against his side. “I always will,”
And that was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep. 
Your head was pounding a bit when you woke up, and you looked around the somewhat familiar room with tired eyes. Sitting up, you groan and hold the top of your head as you look over and see the right side of the bed empty, and then you notice the various prescription bottles on the nightstand. “Clay?” You call out with a dry throat, then meet his blue eyes as he leaves the bathroom attached to his room, still wearing the sweats and tee from last night. 
“Morning,” he said in a quiet tone as he walked over to you with a glass of water. 
“Morning,” you say back with an embarrassed smile as you take the glass and aspirin from him. “Thank you.”
Clay smiled as he sat down next to you on the bed. “Did you sleep okay?”
You nod and set the water aside before taking his hand in yours. “Yeah, I slept great,” you reply and lace your fingers with his. “Thank you for picking me up, and for helping me nurse my hangover.”
Clay laughed and kissed your hand. “Of course,”
You lower your voice as you ask, “Is your mom still here? What time is it?”
“Almost eight,” he answered. “The little guy got up a few minutes ago and she said she’d take him to school for me before work.”
You nod and look around his room. “You’re off to work soon, too, then?”
“No,” he said, making you look up at him in surprise. “I got the day off.”
A smile forms on your lips as you push the sheet off your body and crawl over to him. “Do we have the whole day to ourselves, Mr Beresford?” You ask in a teasing tone as you straddle him.
Clay grabs hold of your waist as you settle against him. “We do,” he confirmed as you caressed both sides of his pretty face. “Maybe we can go on that second date? You know, celebrate your new job?”
You squeal quietly and nod, kissing his lips quickly. “I’d love that,” you smile then look down at what you’re wearing. “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”
Clay gives you a squeeze before gently pushing you aside and standing up. “We’ll stop by your place so you can get dressed,” he offered. “Wear something of mine in the meantime.”
You blush and smooth out his shirt on your body. “Wearing your clothes in public?” You gasp. “How scandalous.”
He shook his head as he walked to the door. “I’ll go make sure the house is empty, then we’ll go, okay?”
You nod and he smiled at you before leaving the room. 
With a big, dumb grin on your lips, you stand up and look around his neat room. On the fireplace mantel were a few pictures of Lilith and Joey when he was a bit smaller than he is now, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the one of Clay holding him when he was just a newborn. 
You missed Joey, and were actually looking forward to him coming home from school later. It may be moving too fast, but you could see yourself being with Clay for a long time. You were so into him and knew you were falling for both the Beresford boys, but you were doing so willingly. 
The only real problem was his mom, and even that you couldn’t blame her for. She was just looking out for her son after watching his first relationship fall apart and didn’t want to see him get hurt again. You could respect that.
One day he would tell his mom about you and him, but for now you’d just have to wait. If it meant you got to be with him, then of course you’d wait.
You walk over to his dresser and pull open the drawer with his t-shirts, and you smile at the difference in comparison to his much more formal button ups you were used to seeing him wear. 
You rummage through the options before spying a dark blue shirt, and you reach for it without a second thought. But, as you grabbed it, your eyes landed on the object hidden under it, and you dropped the shirt as your eyes narrowed. 
Picking the object up, you noticed that it was a picture in a frame, but not one of Lilith or Joey. It was of Clay and a brown haired girl, and they were smiling widely as they showed off their matching wedding bands. 
Insecurities immediately flood through you and you stumble away from the dresser as you hold onto the frame with both hands. 
This was her. 
This is Sam, Clay’s ex, and Joey’s mom.
She was pretty. Fuck, she was really pretty, and her picture was in his drawer. 
You tear your eyes away from the frame and bite down on your lip to stop it from quivering. 
You knew about Sam, and you knew about Lilith’s hatred towards her and Clay’s anger towards her, but to see her with him was a bit jarring. 
How could you compare to her when you’ve now just seen how beautiful they looked together? Sam was older, more mature than you are, and she was drop dead gorgeous. How could you compete with that?
You drop the picture onto the bed and look around the room, your eyes narrowing on your dress that was folded on the chair in the corner. 
Blinking away unshed tears, you strip yourself of his shirt and shove it into the laundry basket beside the chair, tugging on the dress you wore last night. 
You weren’t sure why you felt so bad right now, but you suddenly did not want to go on that second date with Clay today. You felt embarrassed and insecure and you wanted to leave as soon as possible.
So you pick up the dark blue shirt and shove it back into the drawer while holding back a dry sob. 
You had no right to be feeling like this; jealous of a person who had Clay long before you did, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing her brought on so many unexpected emotions, none of which you were wanting to feel after a night of drinking. 
Maybe he still loved her and that’s why their wedding picture was in his drawer. Maybe he was just with you in an attempt to get over her. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way about you that you felt about him. Maybe that’s why he was hiding his relationship with you.
You press the heel of your hand against your eyes as you pull open his bedroom door and nearly bump into Clay himself. “Woah,” he laughed as he steadied you. “What’s the rush? They just left.”
Shaking your head, you gently push him away from you and grip your heels in your hand, throwing your purse over your shoulder as you said, “I’m sorry, Clay, I don’t feel well,”
“What?” He asked as you quickly walked down the hallway and away from the very door he had you writhing against not even forty eight hours ago. “Wait. You don’t look good, Y/n, sit for a minute.”
You shake your head again and walk past Joey’s empty room. “I gotta go, I need some air,”
“Y/n,” he called after you, concern evident in his voice, but you just needed to get out. “Baby, wait.”
“I can’t,” you cry as you practically sprint down the stairs. “I can’t, okay?”
Then you were down the second staircase and out the front door before he could catch up with you.
-
Damnit, things were just getting good smh.
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trensu · 6 months
Text
Heyyy, long time no post, huh? I'm dropping another chunk of stasis in darkness for you guys! And I wanted to remind people that these posts are basically rough drafts. The final product will hopefully be more polished but in the meantime please enjoy!
--
After Steve convinced the old man he meant no harm, he’d been allowed into the home. The Lord of Night hadn’t been super specific about the purpose of his quest, only that Steve had to bring him to Wayne Munson. Steve discreetly looked around the home as he entered it. The old man was obviously unwell and had been for a while, given the state of the house. Steve had the creeping suspicion that the time limit the Lord of Night mentioned was linked to the man’s health.
“What are you doing?” Wayne Munson asked suspiciously once he had returned to the kitchen with Steve in tow. He had sat heavily in one of the old worn chairs at the table but Steve, instead of joining him, began to clear the table on impulse. Steve halted awkwardly.
“This ain’t your house, boy,” Wayne said with a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”
Steve did his very best not to look at the scattered mess in the kitchen or living room. It was not the mess of a dirty, careless person. It was the mess of someone tired and overwhelmed. It was the mess of someone in pain who was too proud to ask for help. Steve took in Wayne Munson’s watery eyes, wan skin, and the clothes that were plain things, tattered from use, but mostly stain-free. Steve quickly added all these details and came up with a plan of attack. He set the plate back down.
“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed easily. “I’m aware, but I serve the Lord of Night and he sent me to you specifically. In our god’s name, I must assist you in any way I can.” 
Wayne’s expression wavered. Steve pushed again. He lowered his gaze in a slightly embarrassed manner, letting a note of uncertainty color his words.
“I don’t know what else to do until nightfall,” Steve said. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t want him to think I’ve neglected you.”
“What happens at nightfall?” Wayne asked.
“It’s when the Lord of Night wants to see you,” Steve said. Wayne blinked.
“Me? He wants to see me?”
“Yeah! So, if you could please let me,” Steve said, putting on his most endearing smile, “I’d like to take care of you until then. You know, make sure you’re comfortable and get the place ready for a divine visit. If it’s not too much trouble, sir?”
“Uh, no, that should be fine. Is…is there anything I should do?” Wayne asked dazedly.
“Not really. All I know is he really wants to see you tonight. Oh, maybe you’d like to rest until then? A nap, so you’re not drowsy when he arrives.”
Wayne nods, still in shock at the news. He didn’t protest when Steve helped him out of the chair and let him lean his weight on him as they navigated to the bedroom. Wayne sat on the bed as Steve drew curtains closed over the room’s single window. The curtains were thick enough to dim the sun to a pale yellow glow.
“I didn’t know there was anyone else who followed him,” Wayne said as he lay himself down over the covers.
"He told me you’re the only one left, besides me,” Steve told him. “And I only discovered him a month ago by accident.”
“By accident?” Wayne asked with a wry grin.
“My friends found a holy text when we were researching other gods. It was the only one of his in the city's whole library. Then we had a hell of a time trying to find his last shrine. When I finally found it, it was falling apart. He’s been forgotten,” Steve said. At Wayne’s troubled expression, he hurriedly added, “But now that I’ve pledged myself to him, I’m going to make sure people know him again.”
Wayne did not appear convinced, but he finally settled to rest after Steve promised to wake him before sunset. Steve took the opportunity to clean. He hadn’t been lying to Wayne when he said he wasn’t sure what to do until nightfall. It didn’t help that Steve also liked to keep himself busy. Being idle made him itch.
The house was small. Aside from Wayne's bedroom, there was only a cramped kitchen and a modest living room. From the small window of the backdoor, Steve could see a short, worn path to an outhouse. 
Given the size of the house, though there was a mess everywhere, it didn’t take Steve very long to clean it all. When it was done to his satisfaction, there were still a few hours left until sunset so he wandered outside. The porch railing was covered with broad green leaves from intertwining vines but Steve left that alone when he saw the small garden nearby. It was full of ripe vegetables that Steve assumed Wayne had been unable to pick himself given his condition. 
By the time Steve had picked the vegetables, pulled the weeds, and watered the garden, the sun hung low in the horizon. He cleaned himself up the best he could in the kitchen sink and took one of the chairs from the table to the bedroom before waking Wayne.
He told Wayne what he accomplished during Wayne’s repose. While Wayne expressed his gratitude politely enough, it was still apparent to Steve that the old man was irritated at having needed the assistance at all. To keep Wayne from dwelling on that, as well as to satisfy his own curiosity, he coaxed Wayne into conversation.
“Can I ask, uh, how you–I mean, how did you know? How did you know the Lord of Night existed?"
Wayne laughed at Steve’s befuddled tone. The laugh turned into a coughing fit. Steve quickly fetched him a glass of water and put it on the bedside table after Wayne had a drink.
“My family’s a bunch of no-good criminals,” Wayne croaked. “Were. It’s only me now. But before, each generation of Munsons took it up. Like a family tradition.”
“Criminals?” asked Steve cautiously. 
“Thieves and con men. Some ladies of the night, if you catch my meaning. They knew of our Lord of Night and passed the knowledge down,” Wayne sighed sadly. “The life of a criminal ain’t what you call stable. We lost bits and pieces of him with every generation. Like his name. No one’s known his name for a very long time. Is that why he wants to see me? Did I fail him?”
There was genuine distress in Wayne’s question so Steve hid his disappointment. He had hoped the Lord of Night’s last worshiper would at least have a clue about where to start the search for the lost name. He focused, instead, on reassuring the old man.
“I don’t know why he wants to see you, but he wasn’t angry when he sent me. He sounded excited.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Wayne said uncertainly.
“Definitely,” Steve assured. Before Wayne could sink into his gloom again, Steve said, “I know you said you’ve lost some knowledge, but do you know if the Lord of Night has any prayers? I haven’t…I mean, I’ve tried to worship him but I don’t think I can do it right without a prayer. I’m kind of new at all this.”
“My ma used to say our Lord didn’t have patience for formalities,” Wayne said, brow furrowed. “They bored him so he only had a few official prayers. There was one where we’d thank him for any dreams he gave us. I think there was another one that asked for dreams to bring inspiration or something of that sort. I don’t really remember those–ma would be boxing my ears for that if she was still around. I remember the one for protection, since we used that one a lot. It goes: 
Lord of Night,  Guide us through all phases Of the moon; May the dark be free of All dangers, While your many stars burn.
Wayne’s voice cracked into a coughing fit near the end. Steve hurriedly offered him water again once Wayne had caught it again. Wayne took a few mouthfuls and repeated the prayer again so Steve could learn it. It took a few tries, but Wayne was patient and by the end of it, Steve had it memorized.
“Is that the only one?” Steve asked, hoping to learn more. Wayne grimaced.
“It’s the only one I really remember. The Lord of Night prefers stories. My ma would tell us the best bedtime stories. Said they were for our god as much as for me and my brother. I was never good at coming up with new stories, so I retell my favorites or tell our Lord about my days and give him a little offering.”
Steve wasn't much of a story teller. He supposed he could do as Wayne did until he met up with Robin and Dustin again. They constantly chatted about books they’d read. Steve couldn’t help but notice how, once again, his friends seemed a better fit for his god than he was; all Steve could give his god was his shield and sword. It was discouraging. He had to figure out a way to make up for it somehow.
“What kind of offerings?” Steve asked. 
He wanted to give his god more; he wanted to give the Lord of Night something he’d actually like. It wasn’t lost on him that the Lord of Night took him under duress. Who else would’ve been able to complete this quest? 
“When I was young, it was horse shoes,” Wayne chuckled at Steve’s confusion. “Thieves are supposed to give him a part of their loot but my ma and pa were horse thieves. They got horseshoes and would leave one for each horse they stole, tied with a braid made of the stolen horse’s mane.”
“You stole horses?” Steve said, unable to fight off a grin as he remembered the conversation he had with the Lord of Night about it.
“Me and my brother, before he passed,” Wayne said with a weak nod. 
The sky had darkened by now. Steve pulled the stone out of his satchel. He carefully unwrapped it from the cloth and set it gently on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Wayne eyed it quizzically.
“It’s from his shrine,” Steve explained. Without any further fussing, Steve stood up and went to the door.
“Don’t leave,” the Lord of Night said. 
Steve turned to see the god, hooded in his cloak of constellations, sitting in the chair Steve had vacated. The Lord of Night had not even glanced Steve's way when he spoke to him. The god’s attention rested solely on Wayne.
Steve hadn’t seen or spoken to the Lord of Night since he’d been accepted as his holy warrior. The god had needed to conserve his energy, he explained to Steve, so that Steve could complete his quest. The god’s cloak was as mesmerizing as the first time. However, this far from the shrine, the god did not look as solid as he had during the nights he spent with Steve. 
“I wanted to give you two some privacy,” Steve said softly. 
“I think Wayne would appreciate not being alone,” the Lord of Night said. 
The old man stared at the god unblinkingly. Wayne’s expression was one of awe and fear, so Steve did as he was told and stayed in the room though he chose to lean on the wall furthest from the pair. He was still close to them in the tiny bedroom, but it provided the pretense of privacy.
“My Lord?” Wayne’s voice was barely audible.
“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.
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ckret2 · 1 year
Text
This chapter is a whole lot of Bill and Ford talking and I couldn't think of a good illustration for it, so have a funny comic instead.
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Here's chapter 9 of The Pines Have Captured Human Bill Cipher And Nobody Is Happy About It (otherwise known as Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone). Sept 13 2024 - now updated for TBOB compatibility!
####
Ford knocked on the bathroom door. "Time's up. You've had your two hours, Cipher."
There was no reply.
Ford glanced at Stan.
Stan grumbled under his breath and cracked his knuckles. "BILL!" He pounded on the door. "Either you come out of the bathroom, or we're dragging you out by your ankles!"
No reply.
"That's it," Stan snapped. Ford nodded in agreement and took a step back to cover Stan as he opened the door.
The bathroom reeked of chemically-enhanced rotten eggs. From knee-height down, every single surface in the room was plastered with curly blond hair. Behind the bath tub—naked, curled up in a ball, and hiding beneath a towel like a child—was Bill.
Stan and Ford gaped at the scene. And then they cracked up.
"Most—" Stan wheezed, "Most people just use shampoo! But hey, whatever floats your boat!"
Trying to sound stern and failing, Ford said, "I hope you plan to help clean this up."
Bill didn't reply. 
Stan coughed and pounded on his chest. "Gah. Almost choked on my dentures."
"How did you do this? I know we removed the blades from the room." Ford was glad he'd put on his boots. He picked up a bottle of hair removal cream from the bath tub and tested the weight. Almost empty. "You didn't use this on your scalp, did you? It's far too caustic to use around the face."
Stan asked, "How do you know?"
"I've experimented with many shaving techniques, Stanley."
Bill didn't reply.
"Bill?" Ford's smile faded. "Did you burn yourself?" If he was burned badly enough, that was an infection risk—the last thing they needed was to haul their prisoner to a doctor...
He took another step toward Bill. Bill tightened his arms around his knees and retreated further into the corner. And still he said nothing.
####
Stan and Ford agreed that dragging Bill's naked butt out of the bathroom wouldn't do anything to help protect Gravity Falls from the horrible alien triangle menace, and also wouldn't make them feel particularly noble; so they left the door open, told Bill to get dressed and get out, Stan went back to bed, and Ford sat in the attic window seat to wait.
It took almost thirty minutes before Ford heard Bill trudging upstairs. He had dressed, thank goodness, but still had the towel draped over his head, like a Victorian widow in a mourning veil. Ford wondered if it was bad to find the sight of his obvious distress so funny, or if the fact that it was Bill made it okay.
Bill got close enough to his window seat nest to spy Ford's boots from beneath his towel, veered off to the side, and curled up in a corner of the attic.
"Well," Ford said, to say something; and then drew a blank. Finally, he said, "The next time you claim you're out of practice at a basic human task, I'll believe you."
Ford could have sworn he heard the towel-covered lump hiss like a leaky tire. Had he gotten a laugh?
The ice broken, Ford went on: "Are you injured? That stuff can burn even when used correctly. And—you did not use it correctly."
No response.
"Just—why did you—why?"
No response.
"Say something so I know I don't have to call an ambulance and tell them you're in shock." Ford did not relish the idea of explaining a mysterious woman with no ID to a hospital.
Apparently, neither did Bill, because he muttered, "I don't need medical assistance." And then, "So I didn't want hair. Baldness isn't a sin. Get off my back."
"That's a heck of a way to get rid of it."
"Yeah, wow, I guess so. I wonder why I didn't just use a razor."
"You could have... You could have asked for a shave."
Bill let out another tire-wheeze laugh. At the thought of asking for help, or at the thought that he'd have received it?
"Bill—"
"Go away."
Ford frowned; but he got up, headed downstairs, and shut the bathroom door as he passed so Bill couldn't go back in.
And a few minutes later, came back with a sandwich made out of the first odds and ends he could find in the fridge, and a six pack of hard apple cider. "Here." He set the plate and six pack on the floor near Bill. "Mrs. Ramirez hasn't touched it, I promise."
Bill didn't move, not even to see what food Ford had brought.
Ford shifted his footing nervously, his common sense insisting that he'd demonstrated all the decency he was obliged to and that it was time to go; and then he sat down again on the window seat. "Listen," he said. "Bill." (He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be talking to Bill Demon-Triangle Dimension-Destroyer Cipher, eternal nemesis, ruiner of Ford's life, threatener of his family; but right now, it was hard to see Bill Cipher beneath the hurting human.) "I've—been here before. I know what it's like to—to be trapped in an alien dimension, surrounded by hostile locals, with no way home." He tried not to think about the fact that Bill was the main reason Ford had been trapped, or that Ford was now one of the hostile locals, or that the locals (and Ford especially) had a damn good reason to be hostile to Bill, or that they all didn't want Bill to get home. He was kind of curious find out where the heck he was going with this conversation. "I know what that... grief is like."
Ford thought it might be an insult to suggest Bill was capable of grief; but Bill didn't twitch. Ford went on. "I know how tempting it is to—to ignore everything but the fight ahead. Never mind hot food, shelter, showers, fresh clothes, a comfortable bed. Luxuries you can tend to when your work is done. But—a fire can't keep burning without fuel and fresh air. Depriving yourself those 'luxuries' doesn't turn you into some ascetic warrior-monk. It simply... burns you out. It makes it that much harder to achieve anything." Ford shrugged. "I—learned that the hard way."
He tried not to think about the fact that Bill had been the fight Ford had burned himself out for. Or the fact that Bill no doubt saw Ford as his fight. Or the fact that Ford didn't want Bill to achieve anything. He immediately regretted the decision to find out where he was going with this conversation. What was he doing?
Voice muffled, Bill said, "You think you're the only person who's ever had to get used to an alien dimension before?"
And Ford remembered—a moment too late—that Bill had destroyed his home. It was so easy to take that information, the horrific enormity of it, and stop there; but follow the implications one step further, and that meant Ford had never once seen Bill in his own dimension. As long as Ford had known him and billions of times longer, Bill had been a stranger in a strange land. Ford should write off this conversation as a loss and leave.
"This isn't my first rodeo," Bill said. "But hey, thanks for coming back up just to patronize me. It's really what I needed tonight."
To hell with leaving. Ford wasn't letting Bill get the last word in after he'd tried to do something nice. "This is your first time being a human in an alien dimension," Ford pointed out. "You said it yourself earlier—I've bathed hundreds of times since you last did. As an energy being, you've never had to make time for regular showers, or sleep, or exercise, or..." He almost said food but paused. He'd seen Bill eat as a triangle. Was that fun or necessity? Never mind. "You probably think those chores are beneath you—but your body needs them whether you like it or not."
Bill laughed harshly. "Wow, this is rich coming from Dr. Food Pills who bathes monthly."
"Hey! I've improved since my postdoc days and if you were half the stalker I know you are you'd know that!"
Bill didn't argue; he just changed his angle of attack and muttered, "'Eat better and bathe more,' says the guy who locked me out of the fridge and bathroom."
"I—" Well. Ford couldn't really argue with that. And he didn't regret it. "I know it's... not an ideal situation." The opportunity hung in the air for an and I'm sorry, and Ford self-consciously hurried past it. It was the thing one said in these situations, but it wasn't true. He wasn't sorry, he shouldn't be sorry, Bill was here on death row. "But I'm just trying to..." The sentence died. Why, exactly, was he trying to help Bill?
"Why would I want any help from you?" Bill's voice was venomous; and under the circumstances, Ford couldn't fault him for that. "Even if you didn't kill me and capture me! For all your talk of needing shelter and comfort when you're stuck in another dimension—you never accepted any help from me. But you think I can't take care of myself?"
Ford stared at Bill. (Not that there was much to stare at, except the top of a towel.) "I never accep—? You never offeredany help!" Not that he would have accepted it if Bill had, but just the outrageous suggestion that Bill had been—what?—charitably offering interdimensional refugee services that Ford had stubbornly turned down—?
"I never got the chance! You dove into the first wormhole you could find—you didn't even bother to say 'hi'!"
"Why would I say 'hi' after everything you—! Plus, you placed a bounty on my head! Within thirty seconds of my arrival!"
"So I got excited!" Bill uncurled just enough to shrug. "Anyway, the bounty was to bring you to me alive! C'mon, Stanford, I know you steered away from the frats in college, but you know what a little friendly hazing is, right?"
Flabbergasted, Ford echoed, "'Hazing'?" And then, even more disbelieving, "'Friendly'?"
"Sure!" One eye, almost luminescent in the shadows beneath the towel, peered over Bill's knees. As if Bill was as baffled as Ford and needed to see him for himself. "You built us a portal, you got cast out of your dimension into ours—you were gonna get a hero's welcome! You'd joined the gang! You were one of us!"
"I'd—spent weeks trying to stop you!"
"So?"
Ford gaped. Bill was a liar, he reminded himself—a liar, a manipulator, and a conman. He'd say anything to portray himself however he thought most useful. Ford remembered arriving in the Nightmare Realm. He'd relived it over and over—in hundreds, if not thousands of nightmares. "That was no welcome party. You were surrounded by an army of monsters."
"Hey, those are my pals you're talking about!" Bill laughed—a sincere, easy sound. It was unnerving, how real that laugh sounded. "Hate to point out the obvious, Sixer, but you've got a handshake that '30s Hollywood woulda designed a whole movie monster around. Who are you to judge appearances!"
Ford's thoughts flashed briefly to the Glass Shard Beach freak show he'd met as a child—the humans who'd called themselves "monsters" and who'd called Ford their "abnormal ally," the frightening friendly freaks who'd welcomed him warmly. He pushed the thought away. Bill wasn't running some kind of weirdo sanctuary; he thought making Ford think he was would win him some sympathy. "You were sitting on a throne. Made out of optical illusions. Like a self-appointed tyrant."
"Oh! You noticed my throne!" Bill's head lifted a little more. "Hey, I got that custom made! It's upholstered with the torn fabric of reality! Say, did it look three-dimensional to you? I'm told it looks 3D if you cross your eyes just right, but, well, you need two eyes to cross 'em."
"Wh—" Ford blinked, trying to remember what the throne had looked like. "Was it... not 3D?"
"No way! Do you have any idea what it'd cost to upholster a whole extra dimension in the fabric of reality? I'm not about to drop that kind of gold on a feature I wouldn't even use!" Bill grinned up at Ford. All Ford could see was the one eye and his teeth. "But hey, if you couldn't even tell the difference—I guess the autostereogram detailing was worth it!"
And Ford thought, he means it. Bill, mad thing he was, never thought that being Ford's friend and destroying Ford's universe were mutually incompatible. When he'd arrived in the Nightmare Realm, Bill hadn't been hunting him, he'd been welcoming him. Lounging on his stupid tacky throne, hanging out with his terrible friends, feigning a punch at the new guy to make him flinch before laughing and inviting him to the party. And Ford—sleep-deprived, terrified, paranoid—hadn't seen it.
And then Ford thought, he's lying. It was over thirty years ago—thirty-one, technically (time ticks ever on)—and Bill could say anything he wanted about what he would have done if he'd caught Ford, because he hadn't caught him. Today, Bill probably thought his comfort, if not his very survival, was dependent upon convincing his captors that he was so much less a threat than they thought he was. It's all a harmless misunderstanding! It was no misunderstanding and Bill wasn't harmless.
Ford got to his feet. "We remember that day very differently."
Bill's smile faded into the dark. "Yeah. Guess so." And then his eye disappeared as well as he curled in on himself and vanished under the towel. That wasn't like him. Ford had expected at least a little gaslighting.
Strange body in a strange land. And a recent death (metaphorical or literal, Ford still wasn't sure). Of course Bill was more subdued than usual.
Ford told himself not to worry about Bill. (He was unnerved that he had to tell himself.)
"Well." He gestured vaguely at the sandwich, decided against doing something nice like reminding Bill he needed to eat, and said, "Don't waste food."
He mentally chided himself as he walked downstairs. He'd been careless; he'd almost let his guard down in front of a friend who'd betrayed him. He'd been nice to Bill. He'd tried to encourage Bill to take better care of himself—when Ford was plotting to kill him, for crying out loud! Why? Because the human body made him forget this was Bill? No. Because Bill had tricked Ford into seeing him as a friend again, for just a moment, talking about parties and pals and—of all things—his stupid upholstery? Also no; that had come after Ford had offered compassion. It would have been nice if Ford could have blamed Bill. He'd like to think that he was being manipulated; it would free him from any personal culpability. But Bill hadn't done anything—except look miserable.
And that didn't line up with how Ford remembered Bill. Maybe that was what had thrown him off? But—he wasn't sure. Ford had spent thirty years with his thoughts spiraling around Bill, and now it was hard to think about Bill at all without second-guessing every thought that passed through his head. He was a recovering Cipherholic—and the fastest way to fall off the wagon was getting exposed to your addiction. He'd have to ask Stan for a reality check.
Another question gnawed at him as he kicked off his boots and climbed back into bed. When he'd been cast from his dimension, the portal was still functional, just uncharged. There was nothing Ford could do from within the Nightmare Realm to either reactivate or destroy the portal. Bill had seemed in too good a humor to have had punishment on his mind; and since Ford had been both useless and unthreatening, Bill probably hadn't wanted to recruit him for his help or eliminate him for Bill's safety.
So what had Bill wanted him for?
What had Bill wanted him for?
He'd probably just wanted to kill him. For no particular reason. For fun. Bill didn't need any other reason, Bill was insane.
Ford tried to convince himself that was true.
####
Bill had gotten careless. He almost let his guard down around a friend who'd betrayed him.
He couldn't really blame himself. He was a consummate extrovert with nobody to talk to. Captivity in and of itself was bad enough; but without his friends, he was... bored. That was the word. Bored.
But he was fine.
Bill's stomach ached. He peered at the food Ford had brought.
After a moment, he dragged over the six pack and popped out a can of cider. Nothing better to prove he was fine than some good old I'm Fine Juice.
That bathroom could be useful. He'd never be trusted in there for two hours unsupervised again, but if he mastered the art of the ten-minute shower and claimed he still needed an hour, that would give him some uninterrupted privacy. He could work a little magic in that time, even if he was limited to human capabilities. Most local female humans wore makeup, Melody probably kept hers in the bathroom; and in a pinch, there was toothpaste and shampoo; he could write with those. You could get a lot done with two mirrors, running water, a writing tool, and a human body full of blood.
Maybe he could call for help. Acquiring the supplies to get a call through to Hectorgon or Amorphous Shape would be difficult, much less calling any of his outerplanar pals; but Kryptos kept a psychic line open in dimension 46'\, if Bill got his hands on some candles he could reach him. At least, assuming Kryptos bothered to pick up the call. Bill hated the thought that his fate rested on whether or not the most annoying person in the multiverse felt like taking a call from an unknown number, but what could he do about it? If he could just reach the mindscape, this would be so much easier—
No, that wasn't quite accurate. He could reach the mindscape. He dreamed. He just... couldn't control it.
This body clamped onto his soul like an iron maiden. He couldn't just shed it like an old coat, the way he'd always effortlessly moved in and out of physical bodies before. He'd tried, curled up in the window for hours at a time, meditating silently, reaching for that point where he quietly detached from his borrowed form—but never grasping it. A couple of times the effort had exhausted him into falling asleep.
He knew his way in and out of human bodies—along with plenty of other earthling bodies and the bodies of aliens from countless dimensions. Leaving it should have been easy. There was no good reason for him to still be stuck.
But there were plenty of bad ones.
Three possibilities: thanks to the unconventional way he'd left the Theraprism, his power was still sealed away (if not removed entirely), and he was simply too weak to disentangle himself from this body's neurons; the reincarnation process had fully turned his soul from a triangle into a human; or, something about the Theraprism's machine locked souls into their new bodies. Maybe to keep the newly-rehabilitated from immediately shedding their body and returning to their old ways.
A lock that simply needed to be picked would be the best option—but with his limited powers, it was also the hardest to identify except via process of elimination. He could start by figuring out humans' own techniques for controlling their dreams and shedding their bodies and see if that helped him. (Part of him hoped it wouldn't. If it did, it would be all the more likely that he really was just a human—the worst possible option.) He was sure Ford had done some reading on astral projection at Bill's suggestion, maybe he still had those books somewhere. Bill couldn't just ask for them. Ford wouldn't trust Bill with them.
Not yet, anyway. But with time...?
Ford's little visit had been unexpectedly encouraging. He'd been a fool to ever offer Ford freedom and power instead of leaning on humans' soft spot for vulnerability. The whole woe-is-me routine was clearly working. Even if Ford had probably only pitied him because...
Under the towel, Bill's scalp burned. He could feel the alien contours of his head.
Never mind, never mind, never mind. This was all part of his strategy. This was his plan.
The point was—he thought, for just a moment, he'd gotten a glimpse again of the Ford that was his friend.
Bill could use that.
He'd keep working on Ford, softening him up. Ford had already brought food. Rookie mistake. So few humans realized that once they'd done one favor for someone, they'd set themselves up to make every favor after that a little bit easier. Bill would have Stanford Pines wrapped around his finger again in no time.
And until he'd worked his way back up to big favors, it might be nice to have someone to play chess with again. He was bored. He missed his friends.
He missed home.
He missed himself.
A lump formed in his throat. 
To drown it, he popped open the first can of cider, chugged it in several large gulps, and reached for the second.
####
(This is sort of the first chapter we've had to slow down since this fic started, so let me know what y'all think!)
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exrellian · 7 months
Text
Replaced MC AU
Three parts in one day! This part gets a lot more serious and where the drama really starts!
TW: Descriptions of pain/burning, the brothers being assholes to MC, manipulation.
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Could things get any worse?
The rest of the day came and went, MC just stayed in his room, holding the tears from overflowing. MC didn’t sleep a wink that night, instead deciding to clean his room and organize all his things… just in case. Luckily for him, Amelia must have spent the night in someone else’s room so he didn’t have to worry about being suspicious or having Amelia find where his valuables were.
When it become morning MC made his way to Lucifers room. Raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped, hearing voices from inside.
“Don’t worry Amelia. We will make sure he will never hurt you again.”
“Please don’t be mean to him! I don’t think he is a bad person, he might just be jealous! You and your brothers seem to like me more so I can see why he is bothered!”
“That is no excuse for him to attack you and hurt your beautiful face. He will not bother you any more.”
‘Did someone attack Amelia? Was it a demon?’ The door opened, interrupting MCs thoughts, he was now face to face with an injured Amelia and angry Lucifer
“Hey, sorry for eavesdropping but was Amelia attacked? Are you okay Amelia?” He asked, inspecting the wounds littering her face, it looked like a pretty bad attack
“Don’t play dumb MC. Are you trying to completely ruin the exchange program?” Lucifers voice was filled with a poorly restrained rage, as if he was about to unleash “All of my brothers have told me of how mean you’ve been to Amelia and it is unacceptable.” He continued, pushing Amelia behind him as if to protect her
“What? I’ve been nothing but kind to Amelia! She is a human and I know how dangerous the Devildom is!” MC tried to defend himself, unsure why he is being blamed for the attack on Amelia when he hadn’t left his room all night
“Stop talking. Your excuses will not work on me. Now Amelia insists on not sending you back to the human world like I had originally intended, so, we will be separating the two of you for her safety and you will be staying at Purgatory hall for the time being, at least until you have learned how to be a decent human being. I have already discussed this arrangement with my brothers and lord Diavolo and we all agree this is the best course of action. Be better, MC”
MC walked back to their room in deafening silence, what was happening? Why was everyone turning against him?
Amelia’s POV
“Thank you Lucifer! I actually wanted to ask you and the brothers something at breakfast, but MC can’t be there so let’s get going!” She giggled, dragging Lucifer to the dining hall, him following with a small smile, what an adorable human.
When the two got to the dining hall the other six were already eating
“Everyone, Amelia has something she would like to ask so pay attention.” Lucifer drew all eyes to him and Amelia
“Where is MC?” Satan asked, growing more concerned when a chorus of scoffs and groans came from his brothers “What happened!? Is he okay?”
“He will not be living here anymore. He has crossed the line by attacking Amelia and has been moved to Purgatory hall, he is up packing his belongings this moment.” Lucifer explained, rolling his eyes at his younger brother
“What!? He attacked Amelia? He would have no reason to do that though, they have been getting along well and MC is absolutely not the type of person to attack someone without reason.” At this point Satan had stood from his seat and completely disregarded his book. “Has MC not saved this family on multiple occasions? Has he not sacrificed everything for us? Why are all of you suddenly turning on him!?”
“Satan. Sit down. The decision about MC has been made.” Lucifer scolded, his demon form emerging
“Satan… I also have faith in MC! I was the one who convinced Lucifer not to fully kick him out of the exchange program! Please Satan, just listen to what I have to ask” Amelia spoke, not breaking eye contact with Satan. Satan sighed and sat down, attention still on Amelia “please, I want all of you to do me a favor, break your pacts with MC.”
MCs POV
As he was packing his belongings into his bags, MC felt a scorching pain flowing through his body, like someone had replaced his blood with molten lava. He screamed in pain before collapsing to the ground, seeing the pact mark on the back of his hand burn and fade away
“Why… why did Satans pact mark… burn off?”
He had no clue what was happening, he couldn’t even think due to the pain coursing through his veins. After a few minutes the pain dissipated, leaving him with just an ache through his whole body as he lay on the ground, curled into a ball beside his bed. With that, the boy lost consciousness.
When he awoke, the pain was only faint.
“Oh dear, why are you on the ground? Have you really stooped so low you would do anything for attention?” A slightly feminine voice spoke from above him, looking up he locked eyes with Asmodeus
“Asmo… why did my pacts burn away? What… what happened?”
“Is this really ok because we broke our pacts with you? You being this dramatic for something as minuscule as that? Foolish human.” He scoffed at the boy on the ground before leaving the room.
‘They broke their pacts with me? But why? What did I do wrong?’
His mind was racing, he knew he had to finish packing and get out as fast as he could. That task seemed to be easier than expected, seeing as his side of the room was suddenly stripped empty, none of his belongings anywhere to be found, even his DDD which was previously in his pocket was missing.
MC wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what happened and that he had zero chance of getting any of it back. He had one more place to look, where he had previously hidden some spare change, just about 50 Grimm in case of emergency. He lifted his mattress of the bed frame and looked for the small tare in the fabric, finding the Grimm he had hidden… thank god they weren’t smart enough to check here.
He left the house in silence, noticing a note on the door that was addressed to him
“To; MC
I am extremely disappointed in your actions toward Amelia, it is shocking to see someone as kind as you give into your emotions so easily. I expected better from you. Due to the recent events you will be suspended from RAD for the time being, I will reach out when you can come back.
Sincerely;
Lord Diavolo”
MC didn’t even react to the letter, just shoved it in his pocket and left. Not going to Purgatory Hall, he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. He had no clue where he was going.
MC found himself in an alleyway, tired and hungry, unable to go buy himself food without wasting all of his emergency money. As if the world just wanted to make things worse, he felt a few drops of rain turn into a downpour. Could things get any worse?
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