#i swear to god i’ve had this mental image in my head all day and it’s been killing me

[dragonanon]

POV: Adam serenades you

[deanwithscissors]

I posted 10,442 times in 2022

That's 2,980 more posts than 2021!

849 posts created (8%)

9,593 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@badrituals

@regardingjenmish

@castiellesbian

@green-blue-heller

@goldenboydean

I tagged 9,303 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#dean - 617 posts

#lol - 603 posts

#dean winchester - 595 posts

#jensen - 453 posts

#words - 429 posts

#season 3 - 381 posts

#jensen ackles - 376 posts

#the boys - 333 posts

#aj talks - 314 posts

#destiel - 297 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#joking about me passing👌🏻 but doesn’t help that i’m struggling sooooo hard rn and i’ve gotta listen to such horrible depressing songs

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Come To Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 3656

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, mention of masturbation 

Summary: Dean notices [Y/N]’s on edge, once again he’s there by her side to help her through the urges and aftermath, but it’s his urges that can’t be tamed this time

A/N: struggling again, so there’s another part. part 1 if you missed it. please read the warnings!

It was due to happen, the black abyss was always there, waiting in the shadows, waiting for her resolve to weaken; allowing the poison to seep through the tiny cracks and tear her apart from the inside. So, here she was, trapped in her head with her demons once again. The new, unused blade calling from its cave, promising to help soothe her mind and take the pain away, her knight in shining armour, her light in the dark. 

She’d been fighting, struggling, barely surviving for days. Unable to leave the bunker due to extreme anxiety, unwilling to stay in the bunker because of claustrophobia, basically abandoned in purgatory. Every second, of every day, a strong invisible hand wrapped around her throat, tightening by the minute and disorienting her, a thick black smoke engulfing her petite frame, lurking in the shadows and creeping into bed with her. The pit in her stomach was growing, spreading, devouring her from the core.

She’d been through her distractions list, two times, coming up on a third round. The place was spotless, every inch, the laundry was done and even put away, the boys’ too. She’d already showered three times today, her hair falling out from how much she was washing it. She’d taken time to write, nothing profound, but a hobby she rarely took part in these days. She’d even pleasured herself multiple times to pass time, but still it ticked by so slowly, each minute dragging out for an hour.  

The thoughts had reached ugly levels, to the point of avoiding the kitchen because of the number of tools available. God, when Sam started cutting a newspaper, she had to leave the room, her hands shaking with contempt, engulfed in urges to snatch them from him and turn the blade on herself. No matter where she turned there was instruments that could be used to inflict pain, even when she closed her eyes, she dreamed of the metals gleam in the light, shining like the sword pulled from the stone.  

Curled up in her bed, anguish flooding her veins, melting her mind and taking apart her soul, she could do nothing but lay there and endure the torture as the bed rocked as if on a stormy sea, forty foot waves slashing and rupturing the boat beneath her. The demon deep down forced her to view images of herself, flesh from bone, in a bloodbath on the stone cold floor, tears staining her wilting skin, abandoned by dead eyes.

Dread lay in her stomach, crawled up her esophagus and laced her mouth, keeping her awake all night so she could mentally explore the nine circles of hell, although with her sinful act, according to Dante, at least she wouldn’t be going to the ninth ring to be frozen forever, no she’d be stopped at the seventh, where those who commit suicide go, because by the time the sun popped up the next morning, she was sure her soul wouldn’t remain in the bunker, or on this earth.  

Such a dark and nasty thought, but it somewhat comforted her, at the end of the day there really was always a way out, an ultimate that would remove her existence and dismantle her pain. She wouldn’t have to wake up the next day wishing she hadn’t, barely functioning as a human to make it through to bed time, to find no solace in sleep and for it to be morning with the blink of an eye. Christ, she wondered if she truly was already in hell, damned to suffer and be ripped apart bit by bit through vicious self-hatred.

The only thing that stopped her from committing the act was Dean. She couldn’t bare the thought of him finding her lifeless body, falling to his knees, cradling her cold corpse and praying to a God he doesn’t believe in to bring her back as tears streamed down his face. Another loss to add to the list, another body to add to the pile.

In another realm entirely, her soul deserted her body for just a second as a hand curled over her shoulder. His lowered voice pierced the black sludge, thinning the fog and transcending into a bright white light as his touch brought her back to reality, binding her being to her body once more as her eyes flickered open to see his soft beautiful face.

“Dean?” her voice was a wisp.

“Hey, I did knock I swear, even tried talking to you, but you were— I dunno — somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night, I’m a little out of it.”

“Do’ya want me to get something for ya?”

“No, it’s okay, just a rough night.” She was glad he was speaking slow and smooth, her brain unable to comprehend anything other than simple in this moment.  

“Seems like it’s been quite a few rough nights,” he said, as politely as he could, his fingertips lightly denting her flesh.  

“I guess,” she mumbled, her eyes averting his intense glare, instead focusing on the open plaid shirt covering his frame, faintly counting the squares, wishing she was counting the freckles on his bare skin instead.

“We’re headed out for a supply run soon, you comin’?”

“No, I— if you could just pick up a couple of things for me, please.”

“Sure, just gimmie a list.”  

“Thanks Dean, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, I know,” he beamed.

“Since you’re the best, can you take my glass to the kitchen please?” she asked softly, waiting for a smart-ass remark about her not having legs, or, what did her last slave die of, but he only smiled.  

“Sure. You givin’ up on the coffee?”

“What?”

See the full post

77 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

Snow Day

Title: Home Sweet Home Timestamp

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 6021 (oops)

Warnings: Fluff, feeling down, swearing, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, fingering, the softest sweetest sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, sub!jensen, dom!jensen (yes both idk okay lol)

Summary: A kid free morning causes Jensen and [Y/N] to try something new 

A/N: lol when i finished the word count was 5844 and i thought while editing i’d cut it down... no it ended at 6021, i’m sorry lol. worst part is i wanted to keep writing more :’) *feedback is welcomed*

Soft flakes floated from the sky covering everything in sight in a blanket of white ice, but instantly melting when landing on the glass window of the toasty family home in Texas. The heavens had opened up over the past week and drowned the south in snow. Jade, Finlay and Aurora had been having a blast, they’d even had a few days off preschool and school because of the weather.

It had disrupted Jensens work schedule too, he’d had to cancel and rearrange a few meetings involving The Boys. At first he was insanely disappointed, but his sorrow transformed into delight when Jade said, “we have more time with daddy?”

And he’d spent every waking moment with his kids. He’d been a sturdy strong horse, until his back gave out, a moment of realisation for Jensen of his actual age. He’d been an evil villain trying to take over the Ackles kingdom, demote the two princesses and prince to his slaves, he’d been a shark who only had bloodlust for kids and he’d been a big teddy bear for them to snuggle.

It was back to regular routine this morning, well for the kids at least, they had school, however they were staying at their grandparents, the twins with Jensens parents and Jade with [Y/N]s mom, for the night meaning today the couple had a snow day of their own.

Jensens arm searched for [Y/N] in the puffy bedding, but he was disappointed to find himself alone on this peaceful and kid free morning. A slight pang of worry zapped through him, typically when she left him in bed it was because her anxiety was high and she needed to keep busy. Leaping from bed and firing on a pair of black boxers with a white t-shirt he went in search for his wife.

Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi played through the echo dot sitting on the counter. [Y/N] pottered around the pristine kitchen wearing mustard coloured socks tucked into her Scooby-Doo pyjama bottoms and one of his t-shirts which was completely oversized on her petite frame. Her feet were comforted by her favourite pair of slippers which she insisted on calling ‘booties.’ Her red hair bobbed on the very top of her head in a messy bun, a few streaks she hadn’t been able to capture dropped down her back. The too short-to-tuck-behind-the-ears strands constantly tangled with her eyelashes, she swatted them away typically, but sometimes when they really stressed her out she’d use bobby pins to clip them back, like this morning.

The wall of windows displayed a complete white landscape, the only colour besides white outside was the dark wood of their balcony and the bright blue sky. Her skin so pale she blended in, but her hair was the colour of the fires in hell. A few vanilla scented candles dispersed around the room radiated a delicate heat and a tranquil aroma, warming the house further on this bitter November day.

“A morning without kids and you leave me in bed alone, rude,” he teased as he approached her with open arms. She crumbled into his chest like shattered glass. “You okay?”

“Yeah just agitated,” she sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I was joking. Just missed waking up to you beside me,” his muscled arms cradled her like a fragile new born baby. “Anything particularly wrong? Something I can do to help?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, just anxiety.” Her embrace tightened as if he’d turn to dust in her arms. “I’m sorry to ruin a rare day alone.”

Jensen pushed her at arms length, shrinking a small amount he demanded her full attention with his eyes.

“You’re not ruining anything. If you want to lie in bed all day and do nothing, that’s what we’ll do. I don’t care just as long as we’re together.”

With anxiety crushing her chest his words hit like an out of control freight train. Lifting to her tip toes with tears in her eyes she captured his bottom lip between hers, soft lips kissed hard in desperate need. 

Barely breaking contact she whispered, “I love you.”

She didn’t give him time to respond. Her lips smashed against his again, but the kiss wasn’t rushed or lust fuelled, it was velvety and deliberate. Neither one of their tongues broke the barrier of their own mouths, this wasn’t a make out session, this was comfort and security. 

“I love you too,” he told her when he finally broke their connection. “So, nine full hours alone, what shall we get up to?”

“You know what I wanna do,” [Y/N] beamed.

“Day without kids, I can guess,” he smirked.

“Well that’s a given,” she mimicked his smirk. “Lets do something we rarely get to do!”

“Sleep for more than five hours at a time? Walk around naked?” [Y/N] flashed her ‘you idiot’ glare towards her tall, handsome, man-child husband.

“Curl up on the sofa with blankets, snacks and a movie.”

“That sounds like a good way to spend the day,” he kissed her forehead. “We’re not arguing for an hour over which movie to watch though,” Jensen said.

See the full post

98 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#3

bahahha

110 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#2

A Pretty Boy And His Weapon - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader (ofc)

Word Count: 4190

Warnings: Swearing, thigh riding, fingering, hand job, messing around while driving

Summary: The first time [Y/N] bumped into Dean she ran away when he pulled out his weapon, but this time he gives her a lesson on how to handle it

A/N: this is just smut, because dean y’know :)  part 1

The day had been long, the weather dismal and now her personal space had been invaded by douchebags that poured into the bar like a burst waste pipe. Slimy truckers with their massive guts hanging out, yellow teeth and stained pits trudged through the venue as if they owned it. Without a hint of shame, they ogled each and every woman in sight, a few even reaching out for nasty unwanted touches.

Knocking back the Jack on rocks she’d been swirling in her hand for a while, she nodded to the barman for another pronto. Every muscle in her body was ravished with aches and scrapes, her brain blasted to the consistency of watery-soup and her heart heavy like the weight of the world was dragging her down. Preferably she’d be hidden in the corner of the greasy bar, unseen, lying in wait behind the shadows, but the effort of requesting drinks was too much, so she sat front and centre at the bar like an exposed new born turtle on the beach where the task of getting drunk was easier, but the risk of being harassed was higher.  

“You alright sugar?” the barman asked as he set down a fresh glass containing a double Jack Daniels with cubes of ice bashing into one another.  

“Yup, good thanks,” she replied politely, but sharply. The barman took the hint and shuffled over to the next patron. The juke box played seventies and eighties rock hits, one after another, although dampened by the rumble of the boozed-up punters, she heard enough to bob her head and tap her foot in time with the music.  

Half an hour later and another four drinks down, either the alcohol flowing through her veins was  loosening her up, or, her unease of not getting laid that night propelled the thought that she could get laid, she just needed to be drunk enough to not be fussy with whom she lay beside. Nasty, but she’d done worse.   Eagerly she raised her hand high in the air to hail the barman over once more.  

Attentive as always, the guy sauntered over. “Another jack on the rocks?” he asked.

“Yeah, but make it two,” she instructed.  

“Knew I was comin’ huh?” a husky southern accent muttered over her shoulder.

Her bones turned to ice as the gruff voice prickled every inch of her skin, forcing the fine hairs on her neck to rise and her heart to flutter in her chest. The palpitations headed south as the man stood there in silence waiting for her reply. She didn’t need to look to know the delicious smelling guy by her side was Dean, the one night stand she had run out on over a week ago. ‘I was hoping to never see you again’ she thought, but remained tight-lipped. Swallowing her nerves fiercely and refusing to face him, she forced out a mumble, “you again-” she sighed as if annoyed but really her insides fizzed at the distorted reflection of the pretty boy in the dirty bar mirror.  

“You never let me finish before you stormed out—“ he tilted his head and cocked a brow as he sat on the stool next to her. She rolled her eyes reluctantly telling him to go on. “Y’know for being so little you really are—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warned with a stern tone and pointed finger, a blood-red fingernail threatening the potential choice of words to fall from his mouth next.

“Right—yeah—” a frown flashed across his face before composing himself expertly, “—so what I was gonna say is, we don’t need to have sex to have a good time, do we?”

Her eyes darted everywhere but catching his gaze, her brows furrowed as her thoughts raced. Flushes of heat crashed against her skin, her cheeks burning and sprinkling red erasing the freckles that painted her face.

“You don’t think I can get you there?” he asked after a minute of silence, not a shudder or quake to be heard in his confidence.

“No, it’s not that—” she nibbled at her lip, still thinking.  

After a deep inhale she decided to be honest, why? She had no idea. He had the type of face and presence that eased her shaking nerves, serenaded her anxieties and piqued her interest enough to push aside her fears. With a slap of sarcasm in the form a snort in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment she said, “you’re wider than my wrist, and the length of my forearm, I haven’t ever— I don’t know what the hell to do with it.”

Dean choked back a laugh, but couldn’t contain the smug smirk plastering his face. “Well sweetheart, how about you come for a ride and I’ll show ya?” he spoke confidently and even ended the saucy offer with a smooth wink. One that was clearly, well and truly practiced.  

She inhaled her own saliva, somehow forgot how to swallow, or breathe, and remained in a state of panic for a few seconds.

“You still here?” Dean joked as he clicked his fingers in front her face.

“You see me, don’t you?” she snapped back, smacking his hand out of the way.   “Pretty hard not to with those eyes and that hair,” he told her, unfazed by the aggressive nature of her actions mere seconds before.  

“And you said I was relentless,” she scoffed.  

“Hey, least I’m not one of these sleezeballs,” he defended, a scowl captured his face as he glanced over his shoulder.  

“True, you’re a wolf in sheep's clothing instead.”

“Nah, I’m just a regular guy in flannel,” he confessed, palms open, in the air as if he was under arrest. “We both know I’m the best you’re gonna get from this dive.”

See the full post

149 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Come To Me

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2776

Warnings: Thoughts, urges and attempted self harm, fluff, unsaid feelings

Summary: [Y/N]s urges are too much to handle, but Dean’s always there for her

A/N: wrote this for myself, struggling with shit and had to get it out. all mistakes are mine

The walls of the tunnel thinned as she stumbled through the narrow halls, the floor like ice beneath her feet, her skin burning hot as hell. Clutching her chest to confine the beast inside, she struggled, desperate to keep it under control until she was alone. Staggering over the threshold of her bedroom, she slammed the door shut and slid down the cool wood, opening her mouth to unveil her suffering, but nothing came out, not even a croak.  

The pain was unlike any she’d suffered before, there wasn’t an open wound, or blood sacrifice, but the agony was torturous. Twisting and contorting her insides, squeezing her lungs, kerb-stomping her heart and blending her brain.  

Blood rushed through her veins like fizzy pop, layers of fat bubbling under her skin, her brain pushing against her skull. The prominent vein on her left temple was threatening to blow and her stomach contents to splat across the floor.  

“Nonononononono,” she muttered, a silent prayer to no one to make the ache stop. Each intrusive thought entered through an invisible injury, her body like Swiss cheese. “I can’t do this,” she admitted to her bed and the four walls encasing her. The urges were extreme, her rage and desire for a sweet release beyond convincing and charming in this moment, and it would ease her pain, if only for a short while.

“I can’t— oh fuck,” she hissed. Something else, there’s got to be something else, but nothing she could think of would make this stop; not hanging out with friends, not drinking, not going outside in the rain to scream at the top of her lungs, not even anger-fuelled rough sex could take the edge off as well as a smooth sharpened blade, and she knew it.  

It had been months since she’d stalked over to the desk, dipped down low and opened the bottom drawer. Months of fighting these urges, day-in and day-out. The knife inside beckoning her like the piper to his rats, every second of her waking life, sometimes in her dreams too, although I guess they’d be classed as nightmares.  

It had been months of stealing glances, suppressing feelings, pretending her heart didn’t stop whenever he came real close and sleeping around with god knows who to keep from slipping into bed with a blade again. But it was his words that cut her deep this time, only pushing her further into the black pit of despair and into the arms of her old saviour.  

It was nothing as well, a fleeting comment that no one else would bat an eyelash over, but it stung her hard and deep, straight to the core. Igniting the vile demon inside who loathes her more than anyone and wants nothing else but to shatter her existence.

There was no chance with him and she knew it, every day she was painfully reminded of that fact, but every day she fell over and over again for him. It was hard not to, he’s the smartest, bravest man she’d ever known, troubled for sure, but a delicate soul that was hellbent on redeeming himself and saving everyone he met, whether they needed it, or wanted it.  

His deep tan only enhanced his enchanting green eyes and multiplied his freckles like stars in the sky. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, showing his canine’s and the soothing motion of his tongue hovering behind his teeth always made her thighs clench. His lips were plush pillows, his nose chiselled and slightly crooked, but still perfect. His ears that reminded her of Dumbo, in a sweet way and his short trimmed hair she desperately desired to put her hands through. His broad shoulders that she’d sat on plenty of times, his toned arms, big hands with thick fingers. His smooth chest, muscled, but slightly podgy tummy, his tight waist and jutting hips. His thick thighs and tight ass. His deep and raspy voice, more hoarse first thing in the morning, everything, she loved absolutely everything about this man.  

And it was killing her, to be so close yet so far away. She knew life would be easier if she just left, but she could never find the courage to do it. So, she woke up and struggled through every day to be by his side. To catch the scent of his cologne, hear his belly rumble as he laughed wholeheartedly while taking the piss out of Sam, to see the glee on his face when he’d take Baby out. To sometimes press an ear against his door in the middle of the night and listen as he choked his own dick and fucked his own hand, she’d stay til the end then shuffle back to her room, closing the door sheepishly. Two strokes and she came while standing and clutching the door handle.

“StopstopSTOP,” she wailed, her knuckles crashing to the floor as she begged for the images and memories of Dean to cease bombarding her. A single tear finally broke the barrier, sliding down her skin as she hunched in front of the alter, her resolve and strength disintegrating.  

His words from earlier chimed through her head as if a choir stood in the hallway, the boom of their voices about to burst down the door. The raised white bumps on her arm lay like dead fish floating to the surface of the sea, a stark reminder of all the times before tonight when she’d given in to the call of the blade.

“I don’t care— I don’t fuckin’ care anymore. I’m done,” she cursed. Hatred spewing from her soul as she retched open the drawer and fisted her hand into the dark abyss. Her fingers curled around the plastic and snatched it, unable to say no any longer. She was broken, ripped apart and riddled with scars anyway, one more little cut wouldn’t make a difference.

Instead of having a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, she had two devils; one telling her to cut a little, it’s fine she needs it, the other telling her to carve into her flesh and tear herself open.  

The small silver blade sat perfectly between her fingers and thumb, as if it hadn’t been at least a few days since she’d last cradled the metal. The familiarity of the cold blade already soothing her scattered mind. This was it, the only way she knew how to get the emotional pain out, a tried and proven method. The thought of the release chipped away at her wall of solidarity, her defiance against the act imploded and wiped from the earth. The acute corner of the blade dented her flesh without breaking the skin. She applied more pressure, revelling in foreplay before the big event.

Finite about going through with this, she was oblivious to Dean filling her doorway.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, his voice low and slow.  

She peered into the mirror in front of her. Dean’s shoulders were slumped, his hand clutching the door knob, knuckles white, brows pinching and coming together, his eyes were hooded, glazed over, his lips plump and slightly parted, tongue hiding behind his teeth for comfort as he stared at her in shock. She glanced at her hands, her wrist, the blade, then back to his hazy reflection.

“[Y/N], don’t do that,” he mewled, crashing to her side on the floor, his knees surely to suffer the next day.  

One of his strong hands wrapped around her wrist that was on the chopping block, the other snatching the blade from her fingers. Without looking, Dean threw the knife across the room, the metal clanking as it smacked a few things before settling, he took note of the location to swipe it before he left and through the damn thing away.  

“Why— what’s wrong?” he asked, desperation lacing his tone, his hand cradling hers.  

“Nothing, I was—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, then in the voice of an angel he whispered, “please.” His words a prayer, and one she had to answer.  

See the full post

172 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven��t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3 

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 14

Hannibal reads too much into Max's attempt to reconcile and cult girl revisits her past.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: discussions of death, abandonment, military casualties, emotional abuse

You soon returned to the opera knowing you had nothing to hide. Hannibal selected for you an off-white maternity gown so form-fitting it was practically painted on. He wanted everyone to see that you, his queen, empress and goddess, were carrying his child.

It only took that evening for the whole dynamic to change. Suddenly, you were an expectant new mother. Imogen had been a massive hit, you were planning to go again.

You were affixing your heavy cubic zirconia earrings when you heard a knock at the door. You hesitated, but hurried down the stairs when you saw who it was.

"Max?" You said, upon opening the door. He stood there awkwardly, holding a bouquet of flowers. "Hi?"

"Hey, [F/N]." Max greeted, eyes darting nervously around the porch. "I just came around to apologize in person. I'm sorry I was such a chauvinist prick."

You leaned against the door. "Oh?"

"You were right." He continued. "I don't know what it's like to carry a baby, and, unless something goes very wrong, I never will."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." You smiled.

"Anyway, these are for you." He said, handing the bouquet over. "They're chrysanthemums."

"Thank you, Max." You said, accepting the flowers.

"Archie and I-" He scratched the back of his head. "We thought that, maybe, if you'd still have us, that we'd name the baby Chrysanthemum. With your permission, of course."

"Like the picture book?" Your face lit up. "With the little mouse girl?"

Max nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, exactly."

You hugged the bouquet into your chest and considered it again. You looked back at Hannibal, who hadn't looked up from his expectant fathers' website for a second all day. He surrounded himself with books about child psychology, attachment theory, developmental behavior patterns and somehow found himself on a tangent about institutionalized misogyny in medicine.

"I'm sorry, Max." You said, sincerely. "I really do appreciate you coming down here and apologizing, but-"

Max put his hands up and gave you a disarming smile. "I understand. Plans change."

"I just really want to stress that it's not you." You assured him. "I've kind of... really grown to like the idea of being a parent. And I think that was Hannibal's plan all along, too."

"I believe a congratulations is in order, then." His voice turned up in delight. "I'm very happy for you. Both of you."

You clutched the bouquet to your chest. "Thank you."

"Well, I'd better get going." He stepped backwards down the stairs. "I've got three pints of Ben and Jerry's in the backseat and Archie'll have my head if I come home and they've melted."

"Max, wait." You stopped him before he could get down the driveway.

"Hm?"

You leaned against the threshold and smiled warmly. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Max returned the smile. "Of course not."

You waved goodbye and shut the door. You hurried to the kitchen to put the flowers in water before you had to go.

"Who was that, love?" Hannibal asked, half-heartedly. He was still very fixated on his research.

"Max Thomas-Park." You answered, unwrapping the flowers from the decorative plastic.

Hannibal looked up from his computer, but left the room silent for you to fill.

"He wanted to make amends." You explained. You walked across the room to the china cabinet and selected a vase big enough to hold the ornate bouquet. "Brought flowers and everything."

"Chrysanthemums?" He asked, sniffing the air.

"I see your sense of smell is coming back." You commented.

"Interesting selection." He narrowed his eyes on the bouquet.

"Well, he said that was what he wanted to name the kid." You offered. "It was a cute pitch, not gonna lie."

Hannibal shut his laptop and examined the bouquet up close. "If he wanted to express regret, he would have done better to bring you blue or purple hyacinths."

"Well, like I said." You made a point to project a little more. "He said he wanted to name his daughter chrysanthemum."

"Mums are given to show sympathy for those in mourning." Hannibal continued, clearly having his own conversation.

"Hannibal-"

"I think your cousin got her hooks in him and he's planning to--" He cut himself off, lest he speak the unthinkable into reality. "That's why he brought mourning flowers."

"Max Thomas-Park is conspiring with Anna to kill our unborn baby?" You said, flatly, to emphasize how insane he sounded.

Hannibal held a bloom between his fingers and looked closely at it. "It's the kind of hint I would leave. For courtesy's sake."

"I think looking at parenting blogs all day has made you a little paranoid." You observed, knowing full well that an overprotective husband and soon-to-be father of your child was not a bad problem to have. Nevertheless, you shut the laptop and touched his cheek. "Come on. We're going to be late for the opera."

You heaved yourself into the passenger's seat of the car, feeling the seat give beneath your heavy frame. Every time you got into the car, you remembered that you needed to shop for a car seat. The thought just as soon left your mind every time. 

“We need to look for a car seat.” You said as Hannibal shut the door, hoping that he’d remember. 

“I mean,” Hannibal blurted out, still lost in his own conversation. “Max is a cultured and well-educated man. He has to know the implications of his flowers.” 

You huffed, dreading to think that paranoid delusion was symptomatic of his parenting style. “Right. The twenty-seven year old data analyst who graduated with a finance MBA from UChicago is also proficient in the outdated and frivolous language of flowers.” 

“In Italy, mums are only given as comfort for loss.” Hannibal said with undeserved conviction. “Exclusively, [F/N].” 

You rolled your eyes and typed something up on your phone. You raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit proud of yourself for what you found. 

“In Korea, y’know, the country that Max’s family is from,” You corrected. “The chrysanthemum is a symbol of friendship.” 

Hannibal tensed up for a moment, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. It was as if he were trying to break himself out of a trance. “...I’m sorry, darling.” 

“I know you’re scared.” You stared at his profile, trying to make out an expression. “I’m also... pretty scared. But you can’t take it out on a guy who has nothing to do with it.” 

“I am scared.” He affirmed, but the way in which he did was a telltale sign that he wasn’t giving you the full story. 

“Of?” You raised your eyebrow. “Finish the sentence, Hannibal.” 

"I need to keep our baby safe." He answered. "And I cannot in good conscience let her come into the world knowing that someone wants to hurt her. To hurt you."

You sighed. "Hannibal, are you seriously still worried about Anna?"

"Don't underestimate the role privilege and entitlement plays in the decision to commit acts of violence." He enunciated carefully. "You of all people should know that."

"Anna has cultivated such a perfect victim image to project outwardly that even a hint of proactive violence would shatter it." You explained. "She's the poor girl who has things done to her. Her evil cousin ruined her marriage. Her evil cousin destroyed her career. And she's the innocent victim in all of it."

"Logically, I know that you can speak on her behavior with more authority than I." Hannibal admitted.

"No shit." You scoffed. "I had to live with her."

"Can we at least entertain the idea that she has something planned?" He pleaded.

"I'm surprised at you." You said. "You never really struck me as the overly-cautious type."

Hannibal shook his head. "With my own life, I'm willing to gamble. But not when it's you. And not when it's Imogen."

You tensed up. His admitted willingness to put himself in danger unlocked a core memory you had buried deep down. The only thing you knew about your own father was that he was willing to put himself in danger. To go overseas and die for fuck-all instead of live for the child he selfishly created then abandoned. He chose to give his life for oil. You didn't choose to grow up without a father and your mother didn't choose to raise a child without a partner. He made that choice for you.

"Now what are you not telling me?" Hannibal broke you out of your trance. "I know that look, [F/N]."

"Nothing." You shook your head. "You should really not plan on dying anytime soon."

"I promise you, I am not going anywhere." His voice softened. "Least of all, to Iraq."

"Okay, you're a pretty good therapist but you never told me you could read minds." You threw your hands up in defeat. "Are you a psychiatrist or are you Loki?"

"As fun as being the god of mischief would be," Hannibal smiled to himself. "I just happen to have a steel-trap memory and an admittedly quite obsessive fixation on the mental health of the mother of my child."

"I swear to god I never told you about him." You denied. "Not even in passing."

"You didn't have to." He assured you. "Beatrice did."

You were surprised for a fraction of a second until the information sat in your head long enough to realize it wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Beatrice took every opportunity she got to brag about her son's sacrifices. She never once mentioned the sacrifices he forced upon you. Only that her son was a hero.

"Did you get the 'don't believe anything [F/N] has to say about my son' speech?" Your voice flattened in complete non-surprise.

"It was a prepared speech?" Hannibal chuckled. "Pity. I thought I was special."

"She gave it to my first boyfriend." You rolled your eyes. "We were, like, fifteen."

"The root of your psychological issues becomes clearer every time we talk about Beatrice." He commented under his breath.

"I know." You conceded.

He pulled into the parking lot, turned the car off and placed his hand over yours.

"Your father was a coward." He said, bluntly. It was nice to hear what had been echoing in the back of your head out loud for once. "I know no country to serve. No god to glorify. I promise, you have the whole of me. My mind, body and soul belongs to you and our child."

You squeezed his hand. "I couldn't ask for anything else."

[ereawrites]

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process  the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 3

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language, drinking Word Count: 5.2k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | You are on Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: Happy birthday to Huang Renjun, the boy who lights up the world. Sorry for making him so angsty in this fic. Tried something a bit light for him on this occasion.

You’re embarrassed beyond belief. 

You had expected maybe an awkward moment or two. But the look Renjun is wearing on his face as the two of you exit the restaurant is one that makes you queasy. You feel so bad. The poor boy had tried so hard to make this date special; and you’d done everything you could to make it cumbrous. You tried, you really tried to act naturally. But, everything about tonight had made your words get caught in your throat. The fact that he’d chosen your uncle’s restaurant of all places… the fact that he had prepared all that he had… the fact that he looked the way he looked tonight. All of it had you taken aback because you’d never been on a date this nice before. This boy had really put you off your A game.

Still, you didn’t like seeing him wear this expression. You weren’t sure what part had irritated him the most: that you kept fumbling over your words? He’d usually been kind and patient with you, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe his pride had been hurt by how it had ended? Renjun didn’t come across to you as a spiteful person but he had made so much effort on this date. Oh man, maybe he was angry. 

To be fair, the poor boy hadn’t said anything since you’d left the table. Perhaps it was in what he didn’t say that you felt most embarrassed. You feel so terribly guilty, but walking out into the fresh air helps you get your act together. You stride ahead and grab his arm. You two needed a moment. 

“Renjun, wait. I… I need to explain myself.” you begin but gauge his reaction first.

He turns to you and you can’t read the expression on his mask covered face. He doesn’t say anything, so he’s probably letting you talk. Whilst you can’t read him, you pull your own mask down so he would see you fully and understand what you mean.

“Renjun, I’m so sorry. When you texted the address, I thought about telling you to choose another restaurant. But I didn’t want you to think I was blowing you off or having second thoughts. I just… oh my God, I am so embarrassed and I just…” you take his hand in both of yours because you really want him to feel the sincerity in your words “... I’m so sorry. I just went along because I was really excited to see you… like this… on a date…” 

Renjun is looking at the ground, like he’s weighing your words, or thinking about what to say. You wait for a beat, or two or three. But on the fourth beat, you say,

“Tell you what, this date doesn’t have to end like this. I know you didn’t eat at all, and honestly, neither did I. My apartment is just around the corner. Do you maybe wanna come over for some ramyeon?” you look at him, your eyes hopeful. You really don’t want him to be mad at you. Your stomach feels uneasy, and you’re pretty sure the French food had nothing to do with it. 

“What, no condoms this time?” he finally looks up to ask and now, his eyes are smiling. 

“Huh?” you begin but then your eyes widen as realization hits and suddenly, you’re much too aware of his hand in both of yours. You drop it right away and you’re blushing intensely when you say “No, no condoms this time. I mean actual ramyeon.” you cover your face with your hands because yes, you’re embarrassed, but also, you’re grinning because Renjun is teasing you again and you prefer it way more than his silence. 

You hear the sound of his amused laugh and then feel his hands close around both your wrists, gently pulling them down. “I’d like that. Let’s have that ramyeon.” he says with a kind voice.

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath till you let it out and give him a relieved smile.

“Great! I’m actually really good at making ramyeon. Don’t be too surprised when all other ramyeons are ruined for you forever.” you say just as the valet brings your car around.

“Honestly, Y/N L/N, after our French cuisine extravaganza, I’m pretty sure I’d thankfully eat sand if you cook it for me well enough.”

You laugh because you’re happy he’s talking again. You get the sudden urge to hug him, because you’re thankful he’s giving this date a second chance. You don’t, though. You’re not sure how he’d react and you didn’t want to ruin the moment when it had only just turned around.

So you choose to hop in the car instead, waiting from him to get in and put his seatbelt on. You pause for a moment after he’s settled in and then you turn to him.

“I, uh… I didn’t bring condoms on that day because like, uh, I was expecting anything or whatever. I just, um, my… my roommate. She put it in my purse as like a joke.” you feel so stupid having to explain it but you feel like you need to because ugh, ugh, ugh. 

Renjun is laughing silently and you get the feeling that this time he’s laughing at you. 

“I mean, it was pretty forward for a first date. And you know, I’m not that kinda guy.” He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, still laughing. 

“Ughhh.” you bury your face into the steering wheel but it only makes your head honk the horn, which makes you jump. 

“Hey…” Renjun reaches out his arm to touch your shoulder and you turn to peak at him, an embarrassed grin on your face. “I’m only kidding. But yes, the quality of my jokes is really going down because now I’m fully starving.”

“Say no more, Huang Renjun.” you say and put the car into drive.

It’s only a five-minute ride and you’re glad for it, because you really, really want to turn this day around. You just couldn’t have your first proper date end on such a sour note. You pull into your building’s garage and silently hope that you had everything you needed to make the perfect ramyeon. With Yeri stress-eating her way to her thesis, your stock would run out way earlier than either of you expected. If that were the case, you would have to very sneakily order some in; you mentally start to calculate how long it would take the grocery app to get you your stuff, given the time of day.

In your planning, you haven’t noticed that the two of you are already in the elevator and it’s Renjun’s voice that brings you back to Earth.

“You live in the penthouse?” he asks.

“Yeah. It was the only place they had available at that time. Super inconvenient. It was hell trying to move all our stuff all the way to the top.” you try to make small talk because the elevator seems to be going on and on. Why did you have to live so far up top? 

“Okay, here we are!” you say as you lead Renjun down the hallway and unlock your door. “Um… do you mind if I like… spray you down? My roommate is kinda really particular about having people in the apartment these days…” you ask apologetically.

“Oh, no, absolutely. Do what you have to do.” Renjun says, a bit absentmindedly. His eyes seem to be going past you and towards your living room. You pray to the heavens that it wasn’t a big mess. You had modelled way too many outfits for Yeri before you had left the house.

“Okay, here you go.” you hand Renjun a pair of lounge shoes as he pulls his mask down. “Close your eyes, please. Yeri made this concoction with Lysol and sanitizer and God knows what else.”

Renjun closes his eyes obediently and stands in a T-pose and you can’t help but smile. By the time you’re spraying him, you’re fully giggling. 

He giggles back and peaks with one eye open “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. You’re just. You look so cute, Huang Renjun!” you almost squeal and fuck, you can’t stop giggling.

“Heyyy!” he groans and grabs the spray bottle from you and aims it at you. You shield your face with the backs of your hands while Renjun attacks you. “I’m not cute, okay? You’re the one that’s cute.”

“Okay, that’s enough! I think I’m as sanitized as I will ever be.” you squeal and start to move away but Renjun grabs your waist and sprays you some more. He’s basically drenching you to death, and it’s just as well, because your breath has once again been caught in your throat. He is close to you, too close. Suddenly, your heart is thumping in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.

He notices your stillness, looks at you and pauses. Like he can feel the electricity in the air. Everything stills and your throat is dry, because your freaking breath won’t let out. You think you’ve forgotten to breathe; almost as if the Lysol is creeping down your airways. He’s holding your gaze and you can swear he’s moving closer. But your stupid throat won’t stop bothering you.

All of a sudden, your head turns out of it’s own accord and you’re clearing your throat into the abyss. Renjun straightens up, his hand leaving your waist. Dammit. Maybe it was all that damn Lysol that was choking you, after all. 

“Let’s make that ramyeon.” you choke out, turning your back to him and heading in.

“Yep, ramyeon. Lets.” Renjun nods his head like you’ve said the most logical thing in the world. The two of you pretend like nothing even happened.

You lead him into the kitchen. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got soda, beer, soju.” you say as you open your fridge and do a quick inventory.

“I’ll just have a coke.” Renjun says and you nod. You grab a couple of cans and your ice box and set it down for him on the island. 

“Have a seat because what you’re about to witness is pure magic.” you tell him as you grab your apron and suit up to impress the boy in front of you. Renjun runs his fingers through his hair and gives you an expectant smile and your brain choses that exact moment to tell you that your crush is at your place. For the very first time. And the two of you are all alone. You turn around before he can see you blush and you get to work.

“Those are big words, Y/N L/N. I hope you won’t be eating them. I’d much rather have you eat the ramyeon with me.” he snarks as he sits on the barstool on the kitchen island, sipping on his coke. 

“Oh, I just love the cynics of my cooking. There aren’t many of them left in this world, so it’s nice to meet the survivors.” You mean business, so you’ve already tied up your hair and laid down your pots and pans. All the time you’ve spent watching Masterchef auditions has prepared you for this moment. You’ve put the noodles to boil and are already heating up a sauté pan. You throw in mushrooms and look up to see Renjun studying you in amusement.

“Damn, you’re not playing around.” Renjun says and you could bet money that he almost sounds impressed. “Hey, be careful with that.” his tone is one of worry now as he watches you chop up some more vegetables.

“I’m always careful, Huang Renjun.” you say as you work the chef’s knife across the bok choy, peppers, ginger and tofu. You throw them in the pan one by one, trying not to be too distracted by the fact that your crush was worried about you. “Can you handle a bit of heat?” you hold up the spicy sauce that Yeri’s mom would always bring for you. 

“I can handle it.” he cocks an eyebrow and you grin.

“I’ll keep it mild because I don’t wanna take any more food risks today.” you laugh and add some broth to your noodles.

“That’s fair. It smells amazing already so my expectations have really skyrocketed, by the way.” Renjun tells you, licking his lips. 

You grin as you set down two bowls. If the boy didn’t like you after this, then he was probably a really tough cookie to crack. “Honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’.” You mimic as you ladle in the broth over the noodles and start arranging your vegetables in the bowls. You slice your boiled eggs and mutter “Success!” as they come out to be the exact texture you were looking for. You top everything with some sesame oil and sesame seeds. You step back to look at your work. It looked like the most Instagramable bowl of noodles you’d ever created, if you said so yourself. 

You lay some side dishes on the counter then proudly set your creation before the artist. If anyone knew how to appreciate aesthetics, it was probably him. You look up at him, expectant. Waiting for your result.

“Whoa.” is all he says, almost like he’s taken aback.

“I think this might be my magnum opus.” you say, nodding seriously as you sit on the barstool next to him.

“This looks like it came straight from an anime.” Renjun makes an impressed face and picks up his chopsticks. He takes a bite and for a moment says nothing. “Oh my God.” he turns to you.

“Oh my God?” 

“Y/N L/N. You’re gonna have to marry me now. There is no other way around it.” he says deadpan.

You grin and punch the air with both fists like you’ve won a Michelin star, not just the Masterchef audition. “Huang Renjun, I don’t mess about with ramyeon.” You say and begin to eat. Your eyes close as you let out a satisfied moan because yep--you’ve really done well. To be fair, there was a lot riding on it. You had to perform well today, of all days.

You both eat comfortably and deeply, a striking contrast to how you’d eaten at the French restaurant. Renjun gives you more compliments as he eats and you keep grinning like an idiot, heart exploding with joy. At one point, you have to tell yourself to chill out, to not let a boy’s compliments make you feel so validated. But how could you not be on cloud nine when the boy in question is cute as fuck and you’ve just cooked for him for the very first time? So you just smile wide at him and hope he can’t see the hearts in your eyes or the victory in your attitude that you’ve really managed to turn this around. All the awkwardness from earlier seemed to have evaporated. 

“Okay, Y/N L/N. You were right. This is the best ramyeon I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.” he admits and you’re way too happy to see that he’s basically licked his bowl clean. 

“Oh man, Huang Renjun. I thought you were a survivor. But here you are, another cynic that I’ve managed to convert.” you say proudly.

“Yes. Here I am.” he smiles at you. 

And there it is again. The electricity in the air. Because Renjun is holding your gaze and once again, you become much too aware of his proximity. Were your bar stools always this close? Maybe you had to talk to Yeri about remodeling this area. You’re turning toward him and he’s sliding off the stool, his eyes never leaving yours. He comes closer and your heart thumps against your ribcage again. Your mind is clouded by his perfume because he’s so close that your hands find home on his shoulders. You forget to think for a moment; your blood throbbing hot in your ears as he leans in.

“I’m hooome!” 

The two of you jump, your heads turning in the direction of the loud voice. You turn back to look at each other, then you jump away from one another, almost as if the spell has been broken and you’ve realized how close you were and how dumb an idea this was. 

You lament your luck. You can’t believe you’ve been cockblocked out of your first kiss with Renjun by your stupid roommate. 

It was almost a week later that you heard from Renjun again. Not that you hadn’t really talked in between. If sending one another memes over Instagram counted as meaningful communication, then yes, you’d been in contact. But then a couple of days ago, he had texted you more than a full sentence:

“Hey! Remember the 127 party Donghyuck (Haechan) talked about? It’s this Friday. Do you maybe wanna go with me? If you don’t want to hang out with frat boys on your Friday night, I totally understand! We could hang out some other time.”

Sometimes, you really wondered if you had any sort of an inkling of pride within you at all, because you didn’t even wait another second to reply:

“You know I wouldn’t miss a single chance to hang out with Haechan. Text me the address and I’ll be there! (Also, what sort of a party is this? I don’t want to be underdressed like last time hehe.)”

Turned out the 127s were hosting some sort of an outdoor Sports Day, except with drinks a plenty so everyone would be knackered as they played. The setup reminded you of every ill-fated Sports Days you’d ever been to at school, except with a lot more booze than you remembered. The two of you had barely walked into the grounds when Haechan jumped in to greet you with the same unrestrained energy.

“My friends! The Coronial lovers! Mr. Huang Renjun!” Haechan had leaned in to kiss Renjun on the cheek but he had really skillfully dodged it, like he had predicted what he would do. “Ms. Y/N L/N.” your reflexes hadn’t been quite as quick as Renjun’s because you had ended up with a mask covered smooth on your cheek. It made you cringe and laugh at the same time. Haechan had very animatedly told you of all the games they had planned for today and had pushed you in, forcing you to mingle with the rest of the crowd. 

Renjun was currently being swarmed by the group of rowdy boys and you were watching with an amused expression on your face.

“Embarrassing. Some people should just not be let out in public.” you hear a voice just above your shoulder. You turn around and chuckle.

“Hendery. Didn’t think you were the kind to kick it with the 127s.” you chuckle.

“Neither did I. They’re cool I guess. I like Haechan. More people need to be as shameless as him.” he comments, knitting his brows together.

You smile wide. “I like him, too. He really keeps everyone together, doesn’t he?” you muse as you watch the boy work the room (or playground), currently attacking everyone with more cheek kisses. “Hey, who’s that boy over there? The one in the blue-ish shirt?” 

“That’s Kim Jungwoo. He graduated a couple of years ago but he keeps coming to these parties.” Hendery says, scrunching his nose.

You laugh and then let out a long sigh. “I don’t blame him. When I start thinking about life after graduation, it makes me want to fail my courses just so I could repeat them. The future is scary.”

He nods knowingly, then says, “Hey, speaking of which. I heard we’re going to be partners in the SMK Trainee Drive.” 

Suddenly, you feel your belly do a summersault. Whenever your college hosted a recruitment drive, SMK was always the hardest to get in, especially for business majors. Not only was it super competitive, but people dreamed of getting chosen because it almost always guaranteed a job once you had graduated. 

You blow air from your mouth and square your shoulders. “Wong Hendery. Let’s show them how it’s done.” you hold your hand up to give him a high five but he grips your fist with his and puts his game face on.

“We’re going to crush the competition.” He declares and you feel reassured. You felt way more driven with a partner than working solo, anyway.

“Hendery, don’t waste all your arm energy now, save it for the wrestling match!” Haechan interrupts, thumping him on the back. “Go find your team, we’re about to start! 00 liners, this way!” he says, throwing an arm around you and walking to your team. You look over your shoulder and give Hendery a thumbs up. 

You join the 00 liners and look at Renjun amongst them. He looks the most uninhibited you’ve ever seen him. He’s smiling without concern and seems to be enjoying himself. You get the feeling that he’s surrounded by friends he trusts and it fills you with warmth. That boy deserved the world as far as you were concerned. 

“Okay, team. Here we are. The moment of truth. We can sit around like a bunch of shmucks or we can leave this ground knowing that we owned this fucking school! So what are we gonna do?” he yells like a sports coach.

“We’re gonna stop being embarrassing.” Lee Jeno gives Haechan a death smile and Haechan thumps his chest.

“That’s right brother! Okay, first order of business. Everybody take a shot! No one enters the battlefield sober!” He gives his commander’s speech and passes around bottles of something. You’re not sure what it is but it smells strong. 

“Down on 3. 1, 2, 3!” he yells and without thinking, you down whatever you’d been handed. You groan out as it hits and look up to realize that your groans are harmonizing with the others. 

“Ohhhh yes! Now we’re ready! Okay, second order of business. We need an entrance song. I was thinking, Girl’s Generation…” Haechan goes on and you see that it has made Renjun laugh. You laugh along as Haechan makes the team learn the cheesiest dance moves. A boy in a headband you’ve never met seems to be fully into it; a few girls seem to be tagging along amused. Na Jaemin looks like he’s humoring his friends at best.

“Okay! Let’s get ittttt!” Haechan drags the last part and leads the charge towards the center of the ground for an arm wrestling battle. There is excitement in the air now, and you have a feeling that it has less to do with the match itself and more to do with whatever liquid courage Haechan had injected in everybody’s veins. You find yourself walking at pace with Na Jaemin.

“You doing alright there, buddy?” you ask him because the poor boy looks like he was once again dragged out here.

He gives you a kind smile “Yep. I’m all good.”

“Not really your scene, huh?” you ask empathetically.

“I mean, I’d much rather stay indoors but Jeno said I needed some fresh air. Renjun was going to stay in with me but he betrayed me last minute by deciding to be social.” He notes, throwing some kind of a look your way.

You give him an apologetic grimace. “Oh man, I’m sorry for ruining your plans. But where’s your girlfriend? Why didn’t you invite her?” 

“She’s quarantining.” he tells you patiently.

“Oh no! Is she okay?” you look at him, almost stopping in your tracks.

“She says she’s mostly all the way okay now, though she still doesn’t have her sense of smell back. But I guess any day now.” he nods, looking ahead.

You look at this profile and your heart goes out to him. “Hey, I know of a place that’s making these really cute care packages for people that have been affected. They’ve got a super safe system of delivery as well. I can hook you up if you like. They’ve got the cutest things for you to choose from.” 

He looks at you and gives you a genuine smile. “That would be great. She’s probably tired of all the soup I’ve been leaving at her doorstep.”

You give him a fond look. “Okay, cool. I’ll help you put it together and everything.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” he says before you are interrupted by a loud cheer because the first match has begun and it’s between the boy with the headband and someone else you don’t recognize. The match doesn’t last a full two seconds before the boy with the headband is defeated. Haechan plays up looking crestfallen and “lunges” at the opponent but is playfully stopped by Renjun and the defeated boy. You throw your head back and laugh out loud. You were maybe enjoying these dramatic antics a little too much, but also, it was nice to see Renjun letting loose like that.

Haechan is up next and is defeated just as quickly and you soon realize your team stood no chance. A couple more boys from your team go next and it’s a bloodbath. No matter how much you cheer your teammates on, they’re dropping like flies. By the time Na Jaemin walks up to the stand, you’ve all pretty much accepted your fate. 

But then. Jaemin’s arm slowly starts crossing over the midline and then the 00 liners are on their toes jumping up and down, cheering on top of their lungs and before you know it, Jaemin has earned you guys your first victory.

“Go Nana!” you hear people scream followed by a chanting of “Superstar! Superstar!” 

You cheer along and watch as Jaemin-the-dark-horse defeats two more opponents in a row. And when he earns yet another victory, the 00 liners are going berserk, with Haechan yelling “Victory shots!” making you guys chug down whatever drinks you’re holding. But that becomes your undoing because Jaemin finally loses to Lee Mark, a senior boy.

A few girls from each team have their go and there’s an uproar when it’s pointed out that the boys were letting them win. It’s a loud, drunken commotion now and you don’t realize it is Rejun’s turn till Haechan points it out for you and much to your amusement, he’s up against Hendery.

“Go Renjun! I believe in you!” you cheer at him as he takes his place.

“Go Injuniee!” Haechan yells and you all watch for a moment with bated breath; but as soon as the match begins, you’re all doubling over, laughing. Renjun is no match for Hendery and he knows it, which is why he’s taken the opportunity to turn this into a comedy show. You laugh as Renjun hangs onto Hendery’s arm and wiggles his legs animatedly. But Hendery holds his ground well and let’s Renjun put on a show for everyone before he puts some girth in his hold and flattens Renjun out in one. Renjun walks back defeated and you welcome him back just as dramatically, like he’s a soldier returning from war.

“You did well, Injunie.” you put an arm around him and tell him and he grins at you before he is swarmed by the rest of your team. Your opponents are declared the winners but you guys do your Girl’s Generation dance anyway and take more victory shots.

You guys have no idea how you make it through the rest of the day because by the time you’re on your last game (a strange relay race that involves complicated costumes and eating donuts hanging from strings), you’re stumbling and being rowdier than usual. You’re yelling at one another, trying to get Yangyang (as you’ve learnt is the name of the boy in the headband) in his many legged costume but it is more complicated than usual because none of you are in your right mind. You, in fact, don’t remember the last time you got this drunk... Yeri would be proud. 

There is more commotion and many more arguments over what the actual finish line is, because by the end, even the self-appointed referees are knackered beyond belief. You don’t know how it happens but all of a sudden, Kim Jungwoo has been declared the winner of tonight, though all the games you played were in teams. But this funny result is agreeable to everyone because Jungwoo is being tossed in the air and being presented with a mini beer keg. Turns out, there wasn’t much that college students wouldn’t celebrate... if you’d put enough drink in them.

You find yourself jumping up and down along with the rest and you don’t realize that you’ve stumbled till Renjun catches you and you’re smiling at him so widely. You’re pretty sure your face is flushed a bright, drunk color because Renjun is looking down at you with an amused smile.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You alright there?” he asks and you loop your arms around his neck till you’re basically hanging onto him.

“I’m having the best time ever, Injunie.” you tell him but your words are coming out all sloshed so you try to make yourself clear. “Best time. Best time. Why does it sound so funny in my mouth? Best time. Best time.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows but his smile keeps growing. “Okay, time to take you home.”

“Nooo, Injunie, but Haechan was going to show me how to make his death cocktail and I have to help Jaemin make a package for his girlfriend and I’ve made a new friend and her name is Lia and I can’t leave now!” you whine at him, grabbing a fistfull of his hoodie. Damn, why do your words keep sloshing around in your mouth like that?

Renjun loops an arm around your back and starts walking you “Okay, you can just take a quick nap at home and then when you come back you can do all of those things, okay?”

You consider his words and realize that your eyes were droopier than usual. “You’re a genius, Huang Renjun. I guess I could take a little, itsy bitsy nap.”

The next thing you know, you’re in the back of a cab, your head resting on Renjun’s shoulder. He feels so nice and warm and you feel so damn comfortable. You cuddle closer to him and turn your head to look at him just a bit. “I’ve got such a bad crush on you, Huang Renjun.” you tell him and you see his head snap in the direction of your voice and you want to keep talking to him but your eyes are closing again. 

When you wake up in the morning, you have no recollection of how you got back home but Yeri’s making you her hangover tea and telling you how proud of you she was.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[dramaticdads]

Excerpts from the journals of the Oak family - Part 1: Hildy Russet

So I listened to At the Mountain of Dadness and haven’t stopped thinking about it since, so now I’m making that everyone else’s problem. More parts are in the works with other characters as the main focus.

Word count: 2183

CW: Horror elements, deterioating mind, death, eldritch/lovecraftian horror things, unhappy cryptic ending

Summary: Excerpts from the journal of Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender.

From the journal of Hildy Russet

Year: 1939???

The name’s Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender, and just a few days ago I thought I was dead. Hell, I ain’t even certain it was days and not years or some bananas measurement of time beyond my comprehension. I’m writing this from a forest that’s out of this world! Literally and figuratively speaking.

I’m doubtful this piece of writing will ever reach anyone but myself, but I’ve been taking frequent pictures like the newshawk I am, and I’ve been intending on trying to describe them even though I’m not sure developing film’s even possible around here. I’ve been asking myself the question – Would I even want to see the pictures I took right before I came here? When they appear in my mind I can sometimes pretend I just imagined them, and even just that makes me quite the jitterbug these days. Either way, the sound of the camera calms me, and don’t get me wrong and assume there ain’t things worth recording here! I could go on for weeks about a few days of wandering. I swear, whenever I think of it it feels like I’m on the gigglejuice, because it sounds like such boloney that just hearing it would blow your wig off!

But I’m just bumping gums now. To summarize what got me here, it’s hard to remember. Or well, perchance it’s just hard to think about. There was a being, noises that gave me a headache and made me feel like my brain was made of helium. People in black and white hues that indicated the front-page story of the century. And yet, a large chunk of it is fuzzy to me, covered in some kind of mental static. A creature cooled Mr. Streep right in front of my eyes, bashing his head in in a horrifying image that has yet to disappear from my nightmares. I’m starting to doubt it ever will.

It was as if I was sucked into something. Like a tornado whisking me and the building I was in, away to Oz. My, it sounds completely bats to describe it as so, but I’d compare it to nothing less, if only it had been more pleasant than what it was. You may say my head’s no longer screwed on right, and I wouldn’t say you were wrong, but it seems I’ve reached my very own Oz, only more expansive than anything little Dorothy could possibly have travelled through.

Needless to say, I was quite punchy after the ordeal. As I looked outside, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this wasn’t anywhere near Tennessee, and my surroundings and memories appeared equally like a distant dream. I left the building crawling on all fours because I was certain standing would make me barf. I wasn’t sure for how long I’d been knocked out but there was nothing living left in the building and if there were bodies, I’ve blocked them from my memory long ago. I couldn’t stand to be in the building for a second longer than I had to, and the entirely unfamiliar surroundings were somehow less hard to look at. I futzed around on the forest floor for what might’ve been hours, and I don’t dare to think of the sorry state I was in.

I would likely have stayed passive like some crumb had I not been forced onto my feet by a hell of a sight that would’ve surprised me more had it not been for the events prior. I initially thought it was a bear. A bear would’ve been reason enough to run off, but as I got another look at its face, I noticed a beak of a small bird and feathers coating its chest in place of plain fur! It was much like a mix of an owl and a bear – hell, some kind of owl bear. And so, dear likely non-existent reader, you must know that I just had to bring out my camera for the first time in God knows how long. You must understand that this was the sort of thing that would’ve made headlines had it been photographed in the deep forests of America. You might think me a fool, as I’d seen worse things at this point that were much more difficult to comprehend, but I think that might have been one of the causes for my excitement. So, I found my beat-up ensign camera and shot a picture. The flash was bright enough to surprise myself, and the noise was louder than I remembered it to be, and soon enough the beast had its beak turned towards me, and as an experienced reporter, I knew it was time for me to run.

And what a rush it was to run after all that time! Blood was rushing through my veins, and I finally felt like I had a heart with all the adrenaline pumping into it like some bean shooter! That sensation is described a little too literally I’m afraid because I doubled over in abdominal pain before I got far enough away. Yet before I had the chance to play with the idea of not surviving the encounter, I heard a voice more calming and smoother than the voice of Louis Prima himself! As I turned my head I saw, not an angry bear-owl of a beast, but instead a tall man. Or well, he seemed like a man for all intents and purposes. He was taller than most men I’d seen before, was snazzy as can be, and carried himself with a sort of otherworldly serenity. He wore some tunic in all sorts of green shades as if he was plucked right out of medieval times. And it may sound like I’m making this up (much like everything else in this entry), but I swear he was speaking to the beast in a tongue I’d never heard! It was as if he was the creature’s friend, and I was so transfixed by the beauty of the scene that I barely noticed him approaching me.

The first thing I noticed once he got closer was his ears. I don’t mean that in an impolite way! He was with a lack of a better word handsome as hell! His ears were sharper than those on your average Joe, yet another sign that he was not entirely human, but it was not inhuman and uncanny in the way I’d almost grown used to expecting. Then he spoke to me, in what seemed like plain English which surprised me, and he asked me if I was alright. It was the first words anyone had spoken to me plainly since the screams and hectic sentences exchanged during the final battle, and before I knew it, I was sobbing in the stranger’s arms. He didn’t shove me away. Instead, he let me stay like that for a while, and it was what I needed after all that hoo-ha, I guess.

I must’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, and he commented on my strange style eventually. I explained as much of the situation as I could make sense of at the time, and the gentleman immediately told me more about where I was. As had been my suspicion, I had somehow reached another world. I still don’t know what this world is called, but I ain’t so sure it’s possible for me to leave it. Either way, the man told me his name and brought me to a nifty little cabin in the woods where he offered to let me get some rest in a bed. Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted him willy-nilly, but I was so exhausted that my desire for rest overpowered any reasonable bone in my body. Fortunately, this really was a good man, because hours later I awoke to a delicious breakfast including some berries I’d never seen before. They were extremely good!

Since then, the man has been showing me around. I’ve taken plenty of pictures, and I don’t think my trust in him is misplaced. I’m starting to think this other world ain’t so bad, and every new sight excites me.

There’s been a strange simmering around my wrist. It concerns me, but I think it might just be a lingering injury from the journey to this world. I can’t help but feel as if it connects to something deeper inside me, however.

____________________

Year: One winter since my arrival

We spent the day together in the village. It faintly reminds me of where I grew up. Once we made it to the cabin, he grew a flower with his magic, and I snapped a picture of it. He placed it in my hair, and I felt nice, warm, and comfortable. He told me he’d fallen in love with me, and I told him I already knew.

I never thought I’d experience something that simple after everything.

____________________

Non-dated entry

There’s a static in my head, like incorrectly developed film, grainy and red. Calling. Reaching. I want to grasp it in my dreams and let it out into the world like a scream. It’s as natural as my blood and it’s beautiful and horrifying all at once. I can’t understand it, I don’t know if I want to, but I want it to be free.

It scares me, so I try not to linger on it.

____________________

Year: Two winters since my arrival

The wedding was the best day I’ve ever had. Quite the scoop, the elf and the human from another world. There were many flowers, and our new home is perfect and cozy. I miss my record player. It was strangely one of the first things I missed, and it’s even more obvious now that I cannot play recorded music in our home. I’d love to play him “’Long about midnight” because describing it isn’t nearly enough. I sing it to him, sometimes, and he says he likes that.

____________________

Year: Three winters since my arrival

We’ve named our son Barry. A beautiful little kid.

I saw something in his eyes. Grainy and red. Faltering.

I hope he’ll have a happy life. I’ll be there for it, of course.

Static. I think I saw static.

I’ll keep him safe. Of course, I will.

____________________

Year: Six winters since my arrival

Barry is a talented boy. He knows magic beyond his years. It’s not like I know much, I’m a bit of a twit about these things still, but I can tell his father is proud of him. I am too.

I love Barry so much.

I feel like something strange is happening to me. I keep seeing Meryl’s death over and over again, and the scream is mixing in with something else. Calling out to me. I saw Barry reaching for my hand, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was reaching for something else.

He’s strong. A perfect boy. Even if something tried to eat him up from inside, he’d contain it.

What do I mean by that?

I’m so tired.

____________________

Year: Seven winters since my arrival

I tell them stories about my world sometimes. It feels nice to think of it. Of my childhood. Of the articles I wrote, even if they were never published. I was only a cub reporter, but I’ve seen a lot of things still.

I’ve seen so many things.

Why am I thinking about them now?

Barry likes the stories. It must be interesting to have origins from another world that you’ve never seen, so I’ve told him as much as I can remember. I miss earth. I miss the music. I’ve sung him lullabies from back then, but I keep forgetting the words.

Barry is a special boy and I have no doubt he’ll do something great one day.

My husband is worried. He says I’m distant. I know I’m distant. Why am I distant?

____________________

Non-dated entry

My world is gone. It was taken in the crossfire. I’ve crossed the worlds and I’m all that’s left. I think I’m all that’s left. There’s nothing else it can take.

The remains are in my camera.

Should I burn it? Maybe I should burn it.

It’s all I have.

This world is so beautiful but it isn’t mine. This family is so beautiful but it

It’s mine. I’m a mother. I’m a wife.

I’m Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender.

I wish there was someone to read this. I wish I could tell them.

I saw them die.

____________________  

Non-dated entry

I hope you see it one day, Barry. It’s beautiful. A wonderland through a looking glass.

____________________

Non-dated entry

I gave my camera to my husband. I don’t know if I should’ve done that.

I don’t think I can look at my own son anymore. I love him. I want him to be happy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I wonder where I’ll go when I die.

____________________

Non-dated entry

They close the windows and they dim the light

To hide their doings from a stranger's sight;

Everything is going right,

'Long about midnight.

[arvinsescape]

Tom’s Miscommunication

A/N: If you haven’t read miscommunication i suggest you do, it can be found here, it will make this make more sense but this can also be read as a stand alone. Note there are some repeated scenes but these are from Tom’s POV.

Summary: Reader and Tom engage in a friends with benefits relationship after Harrison suggests something one night and of course it leads to misunderstandings.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (minors DNI) (Oral- fem recieving, fingering, unprotected sex (Wrap it up folks) mentions of high sex), mentions of drug use.

W/C: 7K

Being in love with your best friend was not as easy as Tom had originally thought. He thought it’d be as simple as telling them and then cute dates and fucking roses, but no. Every single time he’d thought to tell you, it caught somewhere in his goddam throat and he hated it. He was so close to you that he didn’t want to ruin that friendship. He’d been in love with you for a couple months. He was doing quite well at subduing it until Harrison had suggested the threesome.

“Come on then darling.” Tom held his hand out for you. You looked as beautiful as ever and his heart was hammering in his chest at the thought of seeing you naked. There was a part of him that wished Harrison wasn’t joining but if he never suggested it he’d never be able to have you, even if just for a night.

Harrison was sat on your bed and he couldn’t help himself, he had to be sure that you wanted this. He took your hand and spun you to face him, he placed his hands on your cheeks. He wanted to see if there was any hesitation there, which was hard to do when you were all high. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He had to be sure you did.

“I’m sure.” You smiled at him and he couldn’t help the grin that made its way onto his face. He leant in and kissed you. He wanted it to be gentle, this meant a little more to him than he thought it did you. It was one of the best feelings he’d experienced, fuck he loves you so much. He couldn’t help as he backed you up into the bed, knees hitting the edge. That’s when he remembered Harrison was there as he took you away from his lips. God fucking dammit Haz.

He watched as he peppered kisses down your neck and your head rolled to the side to allow him more access. He swallowed hard as he watched Haz take your shirt off, then your bra. Fuck she’s gorgeous, he couldn’t help thinking to himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, so mesmerised by your beauty.

Your hand reaching out for him pulled him from his thoughts, he took it easily before you pulled him towards you. Harrison had shifted over as he sat next to you. He was somewhat nervous for what was to come next. He wanted to do this, fuck did he want to but he knew it wouldn’t help the feelings he had for you. His worries were quickly gone as your lips found his. He smiled into the kiss as he moved you onto your back, straddling you.

‘You’re so beautiful’ he wanted to say but he stopped himself, what if it ruined the mood? What if you got angry with him? He stopped himself from saying anything and took his shirt off. Tom was aware Harrison was removing your shorts but he tried not to think about it. He loved Haz, they were best friends but he wanted you all to himself, he wanted to do everything for you those stupid boys couldn’t. He brought his lips to your neck and sucked and licked the base of it and then it caught his ears, that pretty fucking sound that he’d wanted you to make for so long.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t stop himself as he heard it. Your moan was something so intoxicating to him, he wanted to hear you make those noises more often and he was determined to get more from you. He was trailing his kisses up your neck when he became aware of Harrisons presence again. He continued his assault on your neck and those small whimpers were driving him insane. He was so lost in your neck and small whimpers.

“Want me to go down on you or Tom?” Harrisons question suddenly pulled him from your neck, his eyes snapping to yours. ‘Let me do it baby, let me make you feel good’ he thought but you didn’t you opted for Harrison and he was so fucking jealous that Haz would get to taste you before he did. Harrison moved to give you a kiss on the forehead and almost headbutted him. “Sorry mate.” He muttered and you laughed and god was it music to his ears, as it always was.

He moved into Harrisons original spot as he kissed your neck again and there they were those small, quiet, beautiful little whimpers. He groaned upon hearing them again, they were giving him a source of pleasure he couldn’t describe and he was starting to get lost in it. Harrison had taken your underwear off and was licking through your heat and god those moans were pretty. You moaned louder as he found your sweet spot and he felt pride wash through him, he was going to map out your body tonight and if you ever asked him to do this again, he would in a heartbeat.

He took your breast in his hand and he loved it, it felt almost perfect for his hand. He rolled your nipple in between his fingers and watched you as you got lost in the pleasure you were receiving. He thought it was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen; he couldn’t stop himself as he trailed his kisses up your neck and to your ear.

“You sound so fucking pretty.” He groaned. He swears he watched you shiver but he couldn’t be sure, you were all high and Harrison was still between your legs. He kissed back down your body as he watched Harrison insert his fingers. God, he wished that was him. He took your nipple into his mouth and almost moaned, everything about your body was perfection to him. He watched as your eyes clouded over in pleasure and he swears he could have finished just from watching you.

“You gonna come Y/N/N.” Harrison asked as you nodded frantically. This was it; he was going to watch you have a mind-blowing orgasm and he wanted to take a mental picture of the image when you did. He felt you tug at his hair as you tried to get his attention, he moved back up to your face, eyebrows furrowed, he was trying to decipher what you needed. You said you were gonna come.

“What do you need?” He whispered into your ear. ‘Tell me baby and it’s fucking yours.’

“I want- talk to me Tom.” You mumbled and it filled him with so much pride that you needed that to finish that he couldn’t help the smirk that plastered his features.

“You like it when I tell you how pretty your moans are? How fucking hot you sound. Could listen to these pretty moans all day princess.” And he meant it, he could. “You gonna come for Harrison? Be a good girl and come for him?” You were so close and he could see it all over your face but it was like you needed something else and he couldn’t put his finger on it, so he tried something else.

“I’ve got you princess, come on, let go.” And fuck did you. You were a moaning mess and it looked so hot to him, possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. Your legs were shaking and he couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. He silently thanked Harrison for adding to this pleasure for you. He’d give anything in the world to make sure he got to see it again and again and again. He couldn’t help but continue to whisper dirty things into your ear, prolonging your orgasm as long as he possibly could.

Once he was satisfied that your orgasm was finished, he moved to remove his clothes as the two of them joined you again. You and Harrison exchanged some words as he moved next to you. He couldn’t stop himself from placing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder blade. This wasn’t just about pleasure for him, he wanted you to feel taken care of in between.

“So who do you want inside you?” He continued placing kisses to your shoulder. ‘Please say me this time.’ He couldn’t help his thoughts.

“Tom. Seems fair, I picked you last time.” He wanted you to say it but when you did he couldn’t help but tense. He was finally going to get to feel you properly and it made him anxious. It was that feeling you get when you sleep with a girlfriend for the first time, only you weren’t his girlfriend, you were his best friend. Fuck, he wanted to change that.

You and Harrison said something else about blowjobs but he was only half paying attention. He worried for a minute that he’d feel you and empty straight into you and disappoint you. But no he thought, he wasn’t going to do that, he’ll make sure he lasts, you deserve a good time and if this is the only time he gets to have you then he’d make sure you remembered it.

He moved you onto your front as Harrison positioned himself so you could take him into your mouth. He lifted your hips as he leant over you. “You want me to wear a condom?” He asked as he kissed your temple. He was so in love.

“Nah, I’m on the pill.” You said and he couldn’t stop the groan at the thought. He was going to feel you, properly. He moved himself back up and gripped your hips, slipping inside and fuck, that felt amazing. You were tight and warm and almost made for him.

“Shit, fuck. You’re tight.” He couldn’t stop himself from moaning. He started moving as you took Haz into your mouth but he wasn’t paying much attention to that, he was lost in your moans and the feeling of him inside you, it felt better than he could ever have imagined. Better than he ever imagined when he had his cock in his own hand thinking about you. He snapped his hips against yours and he felt you tighten again. You were close.

Harrison had finished at some point and was calming himself down and he was so lost in you and your tightening core, it felt too fucking good. He thrust into you faster and harder as he chased his own high, leaning down to talk in your ear again.

“Taking me so well princess. Wanna feel you come around my cock.” He snaked his hand around you and started rubbing your clit and you cried out and fuck he could have finished there and then. “Come on princess, come for me. I’ve got you. Fuck. Come around my cock darling, come on.” You did and as soon as your orgasm washed over his length he followed after you with a moan of your name. He couldn’t help it. It felt so good to finally have you.

Once you’d all cleaned up, you were all lying in bed together.

“Dam, that was fucking good.” Harrison said and he hummed in agreement as he tuned them out slightly. He’d just had sex with you, the woman he was head over heels for and he thought his heart might have felt full, but it didn’t. It ached. You weren’t his now, you were his for a short moment and now you weren’t. He pondered telling you but wasn’t sure. This was for pleasure, right? That’s why you’d agreed and he couldn’t take the rejection from you.

“Tom, you okay?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. You looked so beautiful all fucked out and he wishes he could do it again.

“Yeah, that was incredible.” ‘It meant more to me than you could possibly understand’ he wanted to say but he didn’t, he just pulled you to his chest and kissed your head. It felt good to have you in his arms like this, he wanted it every night.

“Well, I’m fucking starving, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Harrison said as he got dressed and left. It was just the two of you now and he revelled in this moment with you, he’d indulge himself in one night if that’s what you were willing to give and he allowed sleep to pull him under.

After that you’d not mentioned it and he daren’t in case you asked him about the looks he knows he gave or the tender kisses or the cuddling. He didn’t want you to reject him so he just didn’t talk about it. He’d found himself with his cock in his hand more often after that, thinking about you writhing underneath him, moaning just for him. His feelings for you were becoming so deep he was sure he’d never love anyone else the way he loved you.

He’d gotten the courage to bring up the idea of sex again the next time you were alone smoking weed and that night was incredible. He’d fucked your brains out as you practically screamed for him and he swears it was enough to get him high all over again. After that it became routine, even after you both stopped smoking weed and his feelings for you reached a point he never thought possible, you’d completely taken over his thoughts, you were all he dreamt about. He’d find himself wanting to kiss you all the time and cuddle you.

Every time you’d sleep together he’d find himself crying in the shower the day after. He cried because you weren’t his, not completely, he knew you weren’t sleeping with other people but that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted all of you, all of the time. He was angry with himself because every time he plucked up the courage to tell you he just couldn’t do it, he’d rather have you in those small moments that not have you at all. He remembered the day he confided in Harrison.

“Mate, what’s up?” Harrison asked as they sipped their beer in the pub one night. “You seem distracted.”

“Me and Y/N/N carried on sleeping together.”

“I thought so, couldn’t be sure but I thought I heard you a while back.”

“I’m in love with her Haz.” Tom sighed and Harrisons eyebrows shot up.

“Shit Tom mate I’m sorry. If that night I suggested started all that I’m sorry.” Harrison said sincerely.

“No I loved her before that.” He sighed again.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I thought maybe by sleeping with her I’d work up the courage to tell her but after having her it made it worse. I just wanted her in whatever way she wanted to give herself to me. I didn’t wanna ruin the friendship we have.” Tom admitted.

“Maybe she feels the same?” Haz comforted him.

“I don’t know man. Sometimes I think maybe she does but then she doesn’t say anything so I don’t know.”

“Neither do you Tom.” Harrison pointed out.

“I’ve tried but I just can’t seem to get the words out.” His heart ached thinking about it.

“Maybe you’d be better off not sleeping with her anymore, you know tell her how you feel first.” Harrison suggested.

“Maybe.”

If only he’d fucking listened. As far as Harrison was aware you were no longer sleeping together and he was still plucking up the courage to tell you and he did just at the worst possible fucking time.

He had his fingers in your heat and he was licking and sucking your sweet spot. You were moaning in pleasure as he brought you closer to your orgasm, he brought his thumb to your clit as he rubbed it bringing you closer to the edge.

“So good for me princess.” He uttered into your ear and he swears you moaned louder every time he spoke to you like this. “Gonna come? Be a good girl and come for me. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make.” Then he heard it, you tightened around his fingers in that way he loved and you moaned his name. His name. You’d never done that before and he fell further into that pit for you. He watched as your orgasm consumed you and he kissed your cheek. He wanted you to moan his name again.

You pushed him down by his shoulders after you’d come down from your high and sunk onto him. You both sighed in pleasure and you started moving your hips against him and he watched as the pleasure clouded you in a way he’d not seen before, it was like it had taken over completely and then he heard it again.

“Fuck Tom, that feels so good.” And he couldn’t help but moan in response, it drove him insane. His name falling from your pretty lips. You were moaning for him because he was doing this to you and it touched him in a way he didn’t think it would. He thought it’d make him want to fuck you into oblivion but it had the opposite effect, he wanted to fuck you slow, lovingly. He wanted it so badly he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe he could make you feel it if he couldn’t say it.

He brought his arms around your waist and you looked confused for a second as he brought your back to the mattress. He was looking at you now and you were so fucking beautiful, you looked back up at him and he got lost in your eyes. He wanted to tell you, fuck did he want to but it got caught again. No, he needed to show you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t help but mutter as he ran his finger down your cheek and he meant it. You really were so beautiful to him. He didn’t want anyone else. He knew it was new territory but he didn’t care, in this moment he was going to show you just how much you meant to him.

He rolled his hips slowly against yours and it felt even better. His heart swelled as you moaned his name again, it was quieter than when he fucked you into the mattress but it filled his heart with so much love he thought it might explode. This was intimate, slow, passionate and he was giving you all the love he could. “Fuck b-“ He almost called you baby but stopped himself, he didn’t want to ruin this moment for anything. “Princess you feel so good around me.” He said instead.

He watched you as your eyes glassed over again. He grasped your hand and brought it up next to your head and interlocked your fingers. He could have cried with how much love he felt for you in this moment. His heart ached thinking that you would reject him after this. He wanted nothing more than to tell you how he felt but he couldn’t and he felt like a coward.

“Fuck princess.” His thrusts grew sloppy as he felt that high reach him, he was close. “Fucking feel amazing for me. So pretty, fucking gorgeous.” You tightened so fast around him all of a sudden. “Shit.” He moaned as he brought his free hand down to your clit and rubbed furiously. You moaned his name again and that was it for him. “Fuck princess. Y/N/N, I’m gonna come. Fuck baby!” He cried out as he came, he couldn’t help it he felt so much love consume him in this moment.

You followed straight after and he got lost in the string of moans laced with his name and he couldn’t stop the words rolling off his tongue and into your ear. “I love you so much baby. So so much.” He panicked when you didn’t say anything. You had to have heard, he was right there, right next to your ear. There’s was no way you couldn’t have and he realised in that moment that he might have just ruined everything.

He wanted to cry, scream fucking hit himself for ruining it. He pulled out and cleaned you up so fast before throwing his clothes on and bolting out of the room. He jumped straight into the shower and turned it on. He cried on the floor of the shower as he brought his knees to his chest. He’d just told you he loved you and you didn’t say it back.

After that you left. He was going to apologise and you left. You weren’t in the house anymore. He knew you were avoiding him and he thought it was because of what he said and he cursed himself. He’d not said anything for so long so why did he? Why did he let himself slip into that new territory when he shouldn’t have? He met his current girlfriend six days after you left and he found her a distraction, she was okay, a bit temperamental but she was a way for him to forget you for a moment.

He felt that familiar buzz of alcohol as the woman he’d met continued to chat him up. She wasn’t you but she was batting her eyelids at him and flirting with him and it made him feel wanted. A stark contrast from the radio silence he’d received from you. She was distracting him and it felt good.

“We’re gonna head back.” Harrison said, Olivia, his girlfriend clung to his arm. They were so in love and he wanted that with Y/N. His heart shattered for what felt that the millionth time that week as he realised he didn’t have that with you. Fuck.

“No worries.” He replied. One thing led to another and he found himself in bed with the woman he’d met that night. He went downstairs the morning after and Harrison was in the kitchen.

“Morning.” They grumbled to each other.

“Have you spoken to Y/N/N?” Harrison suddenly asked.

“No?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Were you okay?

“She’s at Lisa’s. You should call her.”

“I don’t feel like it.” Tom said, he was being stubborn now. He couldn’t take any more heartbreak.

“Tom, I know what happened.” He sighed.

“Yeah and she didn’t say anything back so I know where we stand.” Tom snapped as he left the room. Harrison was utterly confused; you’d not said he’d said anything?

After that he kept Robyn around. She distracted him when he needed it and watching you around the house hurt his heart more so he tried to avoid you as best he could. You ripped his heart out of his chest and you didn’t say a word to him, you just took it and watching you wander around in shorts and shirts felt like you were taunting him with it. He grew angry with you for a while, angry that you didn’t say it back and he hated himself for it. He was angry you left and angry you broke his heart. He thought he was getting over you until last night.

He was thrusting into Robyn as she moaned. Her moans were so loud, they almost sounded fake. Yours never did. She scratched at his arms at times and due to the fake nails it hurt but it still felt sort of good so he carried on. He felt bad sometimes but then she’d say or do something bitchy and he knew they were using each other. She was using him in a way to create more exposure for herself, but he didn’t give a fuck. He was using her because he couldn’t have you.

She started to tighten around him but it wasn’t like when you did it. Although it felt good, it wasn’t as mind blowing as when he was with you. “Fuck Tommy.” God he hated that nickname, he must have told her that a hundred times. He moved his hand to her clit and started to picture you, picture how you looked underneath him. He thought about the beautiful sounds that came out of your mouth. He was rubbing her clit furiously as he thrusted harder and faster into her.

You were all he saw as he felt that familiar orgasm build. You felt amazing “Fuck princess.” He found himself groaning, it felt like a lifetime since he’s said anything in bed. He felt you let go as he spilled into the condom. “Fuck Y/N, baby.” He moaned as he came. Then reality came crashing back. It wasn’t you he’d just slept with. Fuck.

He watched as Robyn came down from her high. She had to have heard that. Fuck. She was gonna go mad, he braced himself for the shouting that was about to start, but it never came.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so vocal in bed before Tommy.” She said as he cringed at the nickname and looked at her confused.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“No, I liked it.” She battered her eyelashes. Did she really not hear him?

“Good.” He muttered. He was aware he sounded like a twat.

“Why do you insist on wearing a condom? I’ve told you I’m on the pill.” She asked. She had asked him multiple times why but she wasn’t you and he didn’t want to feel anyone else the way he got to feel you. He just shrugged in response. ‘Stop being a dick Tom’ he thought to himself. He moved off the bed disposing of the condom as he cleaned her up, he wasn’t a complete dick.

She went to the bathroom and when she returned she led on the bed and went on her phone. She didn’t cuddle him after, she didn’t hold him after, ever, not like you did.

“Okay never have I ever?” Harry pulled him from his thoughts. This was the closest he’d been to you in a while and you were sat across the room from him. Robyn didn’t like you hanging out because he’d told her one night while he was drunk what you’d done together. Big mistake. She seemed cool with it at first but he’d seen the looks she’d shot your way.

“I’m game.” Robyn said next to me. She was looking at you and he knew that look. ‘Fuck, she heard.’ Tom felt the panic rise in his chest, what was she going to do?

“Sure.” He watched you shrug; he was silently begging everyone else to disagree but that didn’t happen. It’s like he knew something bad was going to happen but he couldn’t stop it. What could he do? All he felt was panic.

The first few rounds were fine, typical questions. Then it was Robyn’s turn and she looked at you. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and leave, he knew this wasn’t going to end well but he couldn’t move.

“Never have I ever had high sex with another person in this room.” His heart stopped. He wanted to scream at her but he found his eyes drifting to you carefully, you didn’t respond. “Come on Y/N. It’s no fun if you lie.” He wanted to say something anything, to defend you but he couldn’t, he was still stunned.

“What are you on about? She hasn’t slept with anyone in this room.” Harry jumped to your defence. He knew Harry didn’t like Robyn, he’d told him and he heard the discreet disgust in his voice, the one only a brother could.

“Has she not? Come on, let’s play fair.” She definitely heard and she’s definitely punishing Y/N for it. Just as Tom was about to open his mouth Harrison muttered something and downed his drink.

“WHAT? No way.” Tuwaine said. “You and Y/N? I thought it’d have been Tom if anyone.” Oh Tuwaine if only you knew, he thought. But he had a feeling everyone was going to find out.

“It was a one-time thing.” Harrison shrugged. “Next question.” He wanted to kiss Harrison for jumping to your defence, he was always quicker on his feet.

“Wait a second because that’s not entirely true is it?” You were looking at him, he could feel it, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back. His heart was pounding.

“Drop it yeah? It’s obviously an uncomfortable topic.” Harry said, Tom knew he could feel the tension.

“Fine I have another question anyway.” Robyn continued. He wanted to scream at her.

“Fucking hell.” Sam grumbled.

“Babe.” Tom was warning her now. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking. He needed her to shut the fuck up.

“No, I mean I wanna see her drink, she didn’t drink to that last one which was unfair and not at all the aim of the game.”

“Seriously, leave it.” Olivia said.

“Fucking hell it’s no fun if you don’t get the real secrets out is it? Never have I ever been in a friends with benefits relationship with another person in this room. Harrison said it was a one-time thing so he can’t help her this time. Just be honest, it’s not like it’ll matter.” She sneered. Tom felt his eyes snap to yours and the look in them broke his heart. You were begging him for help and he didn’t do anything, he just stared at you, it was like he couldn’t move or do anything.

“Okay, maybe we leave this yeah? It was a dumb idea.” Harry said. “Whoever did or didn’t have a friends with benefits relationship isn’t our business.”

“You’re not even curious?”

“No. I’m not.” Harry and Tuwaine said. The tension had reached a point of no return and Tom couldn’t keep his eyes from you.

“You don’t need to embarrass her like that. If she doesn’t want everyone to know she doesn’t want everyone to know.” Sam.

“I’m not just embarrassing her though in fairness, Tom care to say anything?” As soon as she said his name he eyed her, he felt his face drop. He knew everyone knew now. The tension between Tom and you had been ridiculous and everyone knew it just not why and now they did.

“What are you doing? I told you that in confidence.” He found himself saying slowly. He knew now she was trying to punish both of them but Y/N didn’t deserve it, you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I think that’s enough.” Harrison warned her. He watched as Robyn smiled at Y/N and it was the most sadistic smile he’d ever seen. It made him feel sick. What was she doing? Before he could say anything, she spoke.

“Never have I ever been in love with Tom Holland and currently still are.” His eyes snapped to you but you weren’t looking at him. He watched and he saw it. Your heart broke and he felt his follow. You did love him back, so why didn’t you say anything?

He watched as you slammed your drink down and left the room but he didn’t miss the tears. Olivia ran straight after you before he could move.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harrison said. Everyone was saying things in your defence but he’d tuned it out. You were crying and you were heart broken. He saw it in your eyes and he felt like he could cry. Robyn was punishing you and it was his fault. Harrison continued to scream at her as he moved off the couch and up the stairs. He had to talk to you. He stopped when he heard your painful cries and his heart shattered.

“It was always different with me and Tom.” He heard you cry. I know it was baby, I loved you the entire time and I’m sorry.

“How’d you mean?”

“Like when we all slept together, you know Harrison included, Haz left he wanted food but Tom stayed with me.” Because I wanted to hold you for one night if that’s all it was going to be. “There wasn’t an encounter that didn’t involve falling asleep together and I thought maybe it meant something.” It did sweetheart every single time. “Me and Haz actually talked about what happened but me and Tom never did, not unless it was to start up again and even then it wasn’t a proper conversation.” I wanted to tell you Y/N/N. “It just always felt like something more was there you know, but neither of us said anything.” So you did feel the same? God I feel like such a fucking coward. He listened as she sniffled and continued.

“I thought maybe he felt the same but then I’m pretty sure he outright denied it.” I’m sorry baby, I was a coward. “I don’t know why I kept sleeping with him. It was like I was addicted to the heart break because while we were having sex it was like I could have him.” I understand that feeling my love. “Then the day after I’d find myself crying over the boy I’d continually let break my heart.” So we were both doing that? Both running because we were too scared to say anything. He listened as she cried and as he was about to knock Olivia spoke up again.

“He was in love with you, you know.” No Olivia, I am in love with her, not was.

“What?”

“He told Haz, about a year ago.” I told you Y/N and you didn’t say anything.

“Not anymore.”

“Well I don’t know for certain and he hasn’t said anything to Haz but I’m pretty sure he is.” Tom couldn’t listen anymore, he had to tell you himself. You both felt the same way about each other and he had to make it right. He knocked on the door, Olivia answered.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea you coming in here.” She spoke softly.

“Just let me talk to her Olivia. Please?” He begged her. She looked at you before sighing and letting him in.

When he looked at you his heart shattered again, you looked so broken and he had a hand in that. He felt tears but swallowed them down. He sat awkwardly next to you, he wanted to pull you into his chest and tell you how sorry he was but he didn’t, you needed to talk first.

“You gonna be okay?” Olivia asked Y/N.

“Yeah.” You nodded and sniffled. Yeah you’re gonna be okay because I’m gonna stop being such a coward and tell you how much I love you.

“Okay, I’m gonna make sure dickhead is gone.” She looked at me. “No offence Tom.” Non taken Liv. She is. He waved her off before she left. It was just Tom and Y/N.

“Okay, to save more miscommunication. I heard everything you said.” He found himself saying and he wanted to mentally slap himself. Really Tom, you’re gonna start with that?

“Oh.” He couldn’t read her and it made his heart clench.

“Which means I also heard what Olivia told you.” Better, Tom, better.

“It’s okay Tom. You don’t feel the same anymore, it’s okay I’ll get over it.” Oh but I do. I have for a long time.

“You don’t know I’m here to say that.” Fucking hell Tom, out with it. She’s right here, she’s vulnerable just swallow your goddam cowardice and say it.

“Please don’t try and let me down gently Tom. That’ll hurt more.” You were crying again and he wanted you to stop. He didn’t want you to hurt anymore. He pulled your head to his lap and ran his fingers through your hair. So soft. Then it dawned on him and he had to be sure.

“You didn’t hear what I said six months ago?” You turned in his grasp to look up at him, those beautiful features looking at him in confusion, he wanted to make it go away. You hadn’t heard him and now you look like a dickhead who just fucked her and left.

“What? You didn’t say anything?”

“I told you I was in love with you. That’s why I left.” And she didn’t hear you Tom and you thought she did and that fucked everything up.

“That’s what you said? I never heard you.”

“Oh.” Was all he could get out as he stroked his finger down your cheek. He really wanted to make the tears go away.

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I was so fucking scared you wouldn’t feel the same. I thought I’d just ruined everything but I couldn’t help it, I let it slip.” And now you’re crying as a result because I was too much of a coward to say it before that.

“How could you not know I was in love with you?” You asked him and he only really had one response.

“I could ask you the same.” He said with a small laugh. Christ Y/N/N we need to get better at communicating, to say we tell each other everything and know each other so well we really missed a lot.

“I thought- when I made the joke about making love and you said you wouldn’t call it that, I just assumed.” Oh baby, I didn’t wanna scare you off. If I’d have known that’s what you meant I’d have said something.

“I didn’t wanna ruin it Y/N/N. you said you continually let me break your heart but did you ever stop for a second to think that maybe I was doing the same with you?” He smiled at her then and she sat up to look at him. Yeah, love, we miscommunicated that badly.

“Then you left. I thought you’d heard me and done a runner because you didn’t feel the same. I felt so heartbroken and I couldn’t bare to ring you and hear you say it so I thought I could just date someone else and maybe my feelings would go away. Dick move I know, but that didn’t work.” He smiled sadly at her and she lent her head on his shoulder. At least you’re being honest with her for once Tom, at least now she knows.

“So that last time was different?”

“Baby, I was making love to you. I let myself go there for the first time, you said my name and it drove me fucking crazy so I let myself actually make love to you and then I fucking spilled my feelings for you and now look where we are.” He laughed as you joined him. If only you’d not left. She was still your best friend Tom, she’d have still been there.

“I still don’t understand why that made your girlfriend so mad. I mean unless you told her you were in love with me.”

“I didn’t tell her I was in love with you.” You did, Tom, you said her name in bed. “She was sort of okay about it, didn’t want me to hang out with you as much and I hated myself for that but then I fucked up and tonight happened.” Tell her Tom, tell her what you did. He was quiet for a second, he wasn’t sure if you’d understand, if you’d think he was a dick.

“Why? What did you do?” You were prying but you were doing it as a best friend would, no judgement. Just tell her.

“I said your name. in bed last night. I didn’t think she heard me because she didn’t say anything but she must have done.”

“Oh Tom.” And you fucking smiled at him and he’d never felt happier. You looked into his eyes and closed the distance between you. He took your face into his hands and smiled into the kiss, he was so happy, he was making it right, you were both fixing what you’d broken. You pulled away after a while. “How long?” You asked and it confused him at first.

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been in love with me?”

“Fuck, since just before the first time I ever slept with you.” He laughed and it looked as if something clicked in you as if you understood now why he always stayed, the looks he gave and everything in between.

“That’s when I started to get feelings for you.” You said and he nodded. He made a mental note to thank Harrison for that night.

“I love you.” So so much baby.

“I love you.” And there it was you’d both said it, out in the open and his heart lifted in his chest. He felt the happiest he had in a long time. He peppered your face with kisses before he softly moved you onto your back on the bed, hovering over you.

“Wanna try the making love thing again? But properly this time?” Yeah and not do a fucking runner Tom.

“Aren’t you still a taken man?” I’ve been taken by you for a long time Y/N/N.

“Fuck no. Whether I was in love with you or not I wouldn’t have stayed with her after that shit. You’re still my best friend you know. Unless of course we’re talking about being taken by you.” He laughed and you joined him. It was so good to hear you laugh.

“You want me to be yours?” You asked as you smiled and it looked so genuine his heart nearly exploded out of his chest.

“Fucking hell, did I miscommunicate that badly as well.” He groaned as he laughed.

“You have my heart Tom, please don’t break it.”

“And you have mine. I promise I’ll never break it again.” And I mean that baby, your heart’s safe with me.

[violetsoju]

airport

kuroo tetsurou · fluff · 2.2k

warning: slight suggestive theme, mild language, characters are aged-up

a/n: did i write this on impulse because i still can’t believe i was actually in this situation? maybe. did i write this as a manifestation of having a kuroo to bitch about and assure me? maybe too. did i get more encouraged to write this after reading a discussion in a server on bra sizes and brand recommendations a few days ago? maybe three.

“Kuroo, I’m serious. Stop laughing.”

A distinct cackling laughter from the speaker of your phone fills the four walls of your bathroom, along with a lazy lopsided grin flashing on the screen that’s perched on the wall mounted shelf next to the sink.  

“But you’re making it so hard not to! Plus, you’re supposed to brush your teeth for two minutes, not talk and brush your teeth at the same time for two minutes.” Kuroo reasons, laughter turning into soft chuckles.

“Sorry babe, but I didn’t catch anything you said just now because you sounded like a fish blubbing underwater, except you’re blubbing white foam instead of bubbles.”

He finds it hard not to grin like a fool at your figure from his side of the screen, hands on your hips with a toothbrush stuffed in your puffed-up cheeks, hair pushed back with an elmo headband that he finds ugly yet cute because of the two ridiculously huge eyes dangling on top.

You mumble something yet inaudible while wiping away the drool of toothpaste dripping down the side of your mouth, a small pout dotting your lips.

“Rinse up and tell me from the top again once you’re done, alright?” Kuroo sighs, shaking his head adoringly as he manages to make out a ‘fine’ out of the string of muffled sounds from you.

And do you listen to him completely? Of course not. So he rests his left cheek on his palms, humming to the bits of information you try to squeeze in without accidentally swallowing tap water while cleansing your face.

The white tiles in the background shift to cream walls shakily, along with the shuffling sounds of room slippers against the wooden flooring. “Then as we were walking towards the karaoke place, I somehow fell behind the rest and ended up beside him. And guess what happened?”

“He confessed to you?” He jokes, oblivious to where this is heading, yet.

“God, I’d rather that happen.” You take a seat in front of your study desk filled with skincare products tucked on the side, placing your phone against the wall. “Instead, he called out to me, which I turn to him and find him looking at my boobs, saying ‘oh, its nothing’,”

Kuroo visibly flinches a little, eyebrows furrowed in disgust, eyes widening slightly, like he just tasted a sip of milk that has gone bad. “Excuse me?”

“He was looking at my boobs, Kuroo. My boobs. Shamelessly. Saying ‘oh, its nothing’. What the heck?” You mentally thank yourself for not opening the cover of the toner in your hand, to save the mess you would have made from all the expressive hand gestures.

“And you were wearing your usual tank top, right?” He smacks his lips together, as if trying to get rid of the bad aftertaste.

“Yeah, the usual square neck rib knit tank top that I always wear.” He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Your wardrobe of tops flashing through his head. “The one that you don’t understand why I own a several pieces in different colours. That one.” A long ‘oh’ resonates through the speakers, the particular top emerging from the sea of clothing.

Kuroo processes the image for a few seconds. “That’s not revealing at all.”

“Exactly! It’s like the most basic thing? There’s tons of girls out there who wear the similar thing as me too.” You tap your toner onto your face with your hands. “And I was even wearing a jacket on top of it? It’s not like I was fully exposed or something. But even if I didn’t have my jacket on, I don’t see how it’s taken as a sign to stare brazenly like that. I wear whatever the heck I want to make myself feel and look good, not for someone else to ogle at, unable to keep their raging hormones in check.”

He hums in agreement. “What did you do or say to him then?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what made me so pissed at that moment either.” You sigh, reaching out for your wash-off mugwort mask. “I snapped at him, telling him that when he talks to girls, he should be looking at them in the eye, not at their boobs.”  

“That’s my girl.” Kuroo flashes his signature cheshire-grin. “What did he say then?”

Your lips purse together, recalling the situation. “I don’t think he even heard me. Partly because you know how I rush through words like I’m rapping when I’m mad.”

“Told you to apply for that rap competition show on tv.”

“Kuroo.” Your glare earns an apology and light-hearted chuckles. “Another reason why I don’t think he heard me was because he actually had the balls to sit next to me during the karaoke session.” His eyebrows arch at the statement. “To which I dragged Mizuki to sit next to me and he got pushed to the side with the other guys.”

He huffs through his nose with a tinge of frustration, fingers running through his dishevelled hair. “How old is he again?”

“20, I think. But still, that’s no excuse for being so disrespectful towards girls and women. He’s already a full-grown adult for crying out loud.” You set the timer to 15 minutes on your phone, shuffling to your bed. “Out of all the boys I’ve met that are of his age or back when we were his age, I’ve never met such a disrespectful guy. In this area of discussion, I mean.”

“You mean you haven’t met such a horny monkey before.” Kuroo summarises. You snort at his remark, making yourself comfortable under the covers while waiting for the mask to work its magic.

“So you’re mad that he looked at your boobs.”

You place your phone between your folded knees, slouching against the bed frame. “Of course I am. It’s a violation against my body. How the fuck does he think he’s entitled to look at someone blatantly like that? Imagine someone staring at your dick like its nothing.”

The stupid cocky smirk appears on screen again. “Not gonna lie, but I would be proud. Or amused.”

“Freak.” You scoff, scrunching your nose at his reply.

His amber eyes gleam under the dim lights through the screen. “You sure you’re not mad at anything else?” He prods, not letting you off the hook.

“I guess I’m so mad because I never expected this to happen to me. I mean, look at me. What’s there to look at when I’m basically as flat as an airport?” You gesture to your breasts, ignoring his ‘you’re exaggerating’ interjection. “I would understand if he was staring at someone voluptuous or well-blossomed. But what’s the point of staring at a wall so flat there’s no cracks or dents in between?”

Kuroo’s sharp yet soft features settle into a knowing look. “So there is something else that you’re mad at.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “That is?”

“You’re upset that your boobs are small.”

Your eyes take a 360-degree turn, huffing exasperatedly. “I’m not. I’m happy with the way they are.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

His firm discerning expression in the 10-second-long stare off has you heaving a long sigh in defeat. “I mean, there are times which I wish they would be just a little bigger…” You hesitantly admit, biting the inside of your lips. “So I don’t have to rely on push-up bras that much. And they would look nicer in wireless bras… Or in deep v neck cuts… Or plunge dresses…”

“Babe, they’re perfect with the way they are now.” Kuroo’s words doesn’t come out as pity or consolation; it’s filled with raw honesty and sincerity.

You glance down at the soft flesh beneath your oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Kuroo. “I know, but sometimes you can’t help but want more, right?”

“I understand, it’s natural.” He nods in acknowledgment. “But we have to be grateful with what we have, don’t we?”

A soft smile tugs the corner of his lips at the sight of your pout. “You’re right. Why did I get myself so worked up just because of one horny monkey when I have such an amazing and supportive boyfriend?” His lips curl up with a little more pride at you remembering and reusing his little remark.

“At your service, always. And ever ready to chase off any horny monkeys in sight.” He places his hands to his eyebrows as a salute dramatically, earning a hearty laugh from you.

“Question time. On the bright side, don’t you save more on bras because they require lesser fabric than bigger sizes? Less fabric, less production cost?”

“If only it were like that, Kuroo. You know what, we’re going bra shopping for our next date.”

“May I be granted the honour of choosing the fine piece of garment?” He places his hand over his right chest.

You hold onto your imaginary ruffled dress in the air, dropping into a mid-curtsy. “If I have the honourable chance to be blessed by your gracious kindness to pay for it, be my guest.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He bows curtly, giving you a flirtatious wink.

You giggle at his sappiness. “Okay my turn. Aren’t you jealous that you don’t have the chance to hold them like other boyfriends do for their busty girlfriends when their boobs swell and get sore during their periods?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. “It’s not like that’s the only time I get to touch them.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Pervert.” You gasp, covering your breasts with your arms.  

The timer on your phone beeps, signaling it’s time for you to wash off your mask.

“Didn’t take you to be a boob person. Thought you were more of a butt person.” You place your phone back on the wall mounted shelf in the bathroom, turning on the tap water to run.

“I’m neither. Because I’m a you person, your person. A person that loves you as a whole, not by parts.” You swear you can see him giving you that smug grin of his with your face submerged with water, washing off the remaining residue.

“You know, maybe God deliberately blessed you with a lesser amount in this aspect.”  His voice echoes through the speakers.

You reach out to your face towel hanging next to the sink and place gentle pats on your face. “And why is that?”

“Because God knew that you’d be unstoppable if you were blessed in all aspects. I mean, look at you. You’re already slaying it despite your fun-sized boobs.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva from the fits of laughter at his comment. “What the hell, Kuroo. No one calls a C cup and below fun-sized.”

“If people call those below the height of 160cm fun-sized, I don’t see why I can’t do the same with breast sizes.” He reasons with a nonchalant face.

“Fine, fun-sized boobs they are.” You give in, switching off the bathroom lights. “Your drop-dead gorgeous kick-ass girlfriend has fun-sized boobs.”

“And I love it. That’s what makes her special too.” He adds, face full-on smitten with love.

“Shut up, cheesy conman.” You chuckle softly, your face a mirror image of his.

“Well, you chose one yourself. No refunds.” The coolness of your moisturizer helps soothe the warmth blossoming across your cheeks, but not the warmth spreading throughout your chest like a cosy fireplace on a cold winter day.

【☾】

Zero and one digits flash on the top right of the screen, signalling it’s way past your bedtime. You’ve been on the phone with Kuroo for close to two hours, no wonder you feel yourself drifting to sleep each second. Kuroo senses it too, from the way your eyes twitch and lose focus.

“Alright, last question before we wrap up for today. When are you hanging out with them again?” He asks, stifling a yawn.  

You let out a yawn as well, stretching your arm over your head, popping a few bones. “I don’t know, but I may skip if he’s tagging along.”

“Nope, we’re going together. Me and you.” Kuroo states matter-of-factly with droopy eyes.

You rub your eyes that has been lidded with sleep. “What if you’re busy on that day like today?”

“Then I’ll just clear my schedule for the day. Gotta show the lil boy who owns this airport.” His deep voice croaking through the speakers of your phone.

“Airport?” You question, confused at his statement, wondering if sleep has started to take over your sense of hearing.

“Airport.” He gestures at his tiddies sleepily.

“Kuroo…” Your distressed groan doesn’t stop him from his babble.

“Gotta show to him that it’s a private one too, not some public area that’s available to any common folk like him. Right, babe?”

a/n: in Chinese, there’s a saying of calling flat chested girls or girls with small boobs as 飞机场, which means airport because the airport runway is flat. so it’s like one’s chest is so flat that it can run the plane lmao. all sizes are precious, don’t get me wrong. this is purely for entertainment purposes

shoutout to @moonboohoo​ for being my irl Mizuki that day ily ❤️

[jaeminzie]

lion boy | l.mh

↳ mark lee x fem!reader

synopsis: you would never ruin your slytherin image by exposing your crush on the gryffindor head boy. but for mark lee, you’d put it into consideration.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,074

a/n: a new series hehe, i’ve been procrastinating on this but i’m rlly proud with how it turned out ! mark lee best boy sigh ( also happy holidays :] )

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

“can you quit your act already?” your best friend pulled you through the hallways so powerfully causing both of your green robes to flap everywhere, gaining some raised eyebrows from the paintings surrounding your moving bodies. you continued to wince as her grip on your wrist became tighter and her strides became faster, you swear her heavy foot stomps could be heard throughout the castle.

you huffed in annoyance. your best friend has been side eyeing and sighing throughout the entirety of herbology whenever you spoke, but now she decides to speak to you. “what are you on about?” you let out a deep breath once she lets go off your wrist when you reached the restroom. thankfully, it was empty so no one can see you absolutely destroy your friend after she just destroyed your bones from dragging you too hard. “no need to drain all our energies, y/f/n, just talk to me.” you snapped but added a tad bit of sincerity, while dusting your robe.

she stood there, arms crossed and tapping her foot on the tile while watching you with grimace in her eyes. “infuriating, you are.”

“i’m quite aware, thank you very much.” you clicked your tongue and turned to the sink next to you to wash your sweaty hands, not sparing a glance at your friend stood in front of you.

the clicking sound on the tiles stopped and you could see her arms dropping by her sides in the corner of your eye. “you know i love you, right?” despite the wholesome meaning of her words, the way it sounded off her tongue seemed a different story.

breathlessly chucking at your friend, “you have an absurd way of showing it, but yes. i’m also aware of that.” you sighed, wiping your hands on your robe which made your friend cringe as she saw the water streaks appear on the ‘special’ robe.

“you’re the one to talk.” her arms made their way back up against her chest all crossed.

you furrowed your eyebrows so much that you could feel a headache coming. “okay now, what are you talking about?”

“always so oblivious, y/n.” she brought up her hand to tuck in a piece of your hair behind your ear, making you slap her hand away. “get out of my face before i hex you, mark lee.” she mimicked your voice and giggle using an obnoxiously high pitched tone. “you really need to work your on flirting skills.”

your face softened at the mention of his name, and began to heat up once your friend noticed the change in emotion in your eyes. you quickly replied before she could further taunt you, “saying that i want to hex someone means that i’m flirting with them? make it make sense.” you paused to roll your eyes. “and i don’t giggle.” you scoffed, trying your hardest to stop yourself from blushing.

“if you really do despise that boy like how you claim you do, you would’ve done it by now.” she poked your cheek with the tip of her wooden wand. “but you haven’t.” she smirked at you, waiting for the response she wanted but she was not going to get it out of you. at least, not that easily. after a good portion of silence, she dropped her smirk and waved her arms up in the air. “oh my god, just say you like him!”

“i am not saying i like a-“ you whisper, “-a gryffindor.” your friend rolled her eyes at your immaturity. “but is it really that obvious? do you think he’s noticed?”

and her smirk that you wanted to slap away made another appearance. “god no, lee has got to be the biggest dimwit of the school. i can’t believe he’s head-boy of gryffindor.”

you glared at her. “please, he’s not the biggest dimwit if you’re around.” you smiled at the satisfying reaction she gave. “it’s all out of love, babe.” you caressed her hair and reassured her since you were slightly fearing your life after the look she flashed you.

you began to walk out with your friend stomping behind you, clearing still frustrated as her plan didn’t go her way. though she wasn’t about to give up that easily, she needed both you and mark to stop rejecting your obvious feelings toward each other.

though, what both of you failed to hear were the giggles echoing in the bathroom. it seems like your best friend doesn’t have to work so hard for her plan to work.

—

it was a tiresome day and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your common room and relax with your peers. the whole day you’ve gotten weird looks and quick glances from people who you didn’t know even existed. you weren’t phased by it. as a slytherin, it wasn’t uncommon to get odd looks from the new students since they don’t know any better and stereotype. though, it seemed like everyone was looking.

a free period is all you needed, and that is what you had at the moment. using the precious time wisely, you chose the middle courtyard to spend time by yourself in. you walked your way to the area humming your favorite tune since you can finally get a break, then making yourself comfortable on the grass. sighing contently, you took in the fresh air and admired the greenery surrounding you before pulling out your potions book to study before attending after your free period.

being so focused on the words on the book that you barely understood, you didn’t notice the sudden shade casted upon you before hearing someone clear their throat from above you. you turned your head up to that someone — mark lee.

“uh hi,” he croaked. “free period?”

you laughed at the boy, making sure it sounded more like a scoff rather than a giggle. “yes.” you went back to reading the book laid on your lap, ignoring the boy dressed in red. you could honestly barf at how dashing he manages to look in that horrid color.

you could slightly see him fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to say some words, making your heart flutter. “oh same.” you made sure your hair covers majority of your face before smiling at his dry response. he was trying so hard but to him, it wasn’t enough. to you, it was enough to make you feel nauseous over how adorable he was being. god, your best friend would pay to see this moment. you rolled your eyes when you realized that you’d have to share what’s currently happening to your friend later. then she’d finally brag over how she was right all along, never ceasing a moment to use the fact that you’re head over heels over a lion boy against you. but there was nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to mark lee.

“what do you need?” you continued to flip the pages of the damaged book because you couldn’t show your tomato face just yet.

“okay uh-“ he cleared his throat. “i just wanted to inform you that there are rumors going around.”

“about?” you sounded completely uninterested in the topic which surprised mark. you became disappointed since you had hoped that he came to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to. you guess that’s what happens when you aren’t the sweetest to the boy you’ve liked for years.

“apparently, moaning myrtle heard your conversation with y/f/n earlier today and she’s been telling every girl who enters the loo.” he spoke cautiously, trying not to press the wrong buttons of yours.

you felt your heart race. though, you weren’t sure if it was out of nervousness or excitement. maybe both? yes both. you could feel the beating of your heart throughout your whole body and you hoped that mark couldn’t hear how embarrassingly loud it was. you stayed silent until you managed to piece yourself together enough to look at him. “and you’re telling me this because....?”

his voice cracked. “i don’t know. maybe because...” and he cleared his throat once again. “i like you too.” he shoved his hands in his pockets and made direct eye contact with you. you mentally applaud him for the courage, perfectly exhibiting his house’s prominent trait. but the long silence and you not attempting to create a response made his eyes look at everything besides you who calmly sat legs crossed on the grass. he failed to see the adoration that you have for him in your eyes as he was too busy worrying that he had made you ‘despise’ him even more.

mark, undeniably the most popular student in hogwarts, was the one standing above you and looking down at you, but it was obvious that you are the one whose got him wrapped around your finger.

you smirked slightly once you realized that you can have some fun in this. “you think that i’d have even the slightest interest on the muggle born, lion boy that you are?” you teased, quirking your eyebrows.

the overly nervous boy obviously didn’t catch the joking tone laced in your voice but being the gryffindor head-boy he is, mark puffed up his chest and spoke with full confidence. “yeah i do think that.” after getting no response from you, his chest fell down and his back began to hunch. replying with a soft tone that almost made your lip quiver, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have even believed in the rumors in the first place. i’ll tell everyone to st-“

the guilt became bigger and bigger the more he talked, and you just couldn’t take the image of him standing there not knowing what to do with his hands anymore. “well you’re right.”

mark’s eyes were popping out of his head with his mouth wide open. “seriously?”

“i mean, wasn’t i obvious?” you stood up and wiped your robe during the process.

he raised his eyebrow and refrained himself form laughing. “you truly have a special way of showing it then.” despite the lighthearted tone in his voice, he still couldn’t look at you.

“so i’ve been told.” you giggled, slightly covering your mouth with your fingers. giggled. mark thought. he immediately looked at you at the sound of your giggling since he’s never made you do that before, and it made his pride swell seeing your eyes crinkle and face glow red by his words.

mark was so entranced by your appearance, he’s never seen you like this before and he could definitely get used to it. so entranced that his body began moving for him, leaning closer and closer with his hands reaching for your waist.

before he was close enough to get a taste of your chapstick, you separated your lips with your index finger. you tutted, “not yet.”

“yet?”

you hummed at his question. “if you work hard enough.” you bend down to gather your books from the ground and mark followed your actions, handing your books.

“of course i will, you know me.” he teased while standing back up with you and flashed a side smile that caused the release of the butterflies caged in the pit of your stomach.

the bell rang, indicating the end of class which meant that everyone should be coming out now. you looked at mark once more, “fortunately.”

his smile grew but disappointment took over his face when he saw you barely stepping back from him.

before turning your back, you poked his chest with your pointer finger — getting surprised at how muscular he felt. wanting to have more fun, you leaned close to his ear and whispered, “i’m counting on you.”

the feeling of your lips brushing against his ear made mark’s face heat up and focus unclear. he only managed to see you strut into the hallways, leaving him flustered and shaking his head at your antics that he found so endearing.

mark continued to watch your figure become smaller and smaller the further you walked away, only getting pulled out of the trance once his friends called out his name. he looked back at you and was met with a genuine smile that you gave him, which made him stumble as he was trying to make his way to his fellow gryffindors. you’re going to make me lose my mind. mark thought. and you made sure to prove him right.

[r1ntaros]

Written in the Stars

Third Admission of KQ Academy Class '20-'21

see second admission here

dear diary,

I don't like seeing him with someone else. I really don't

sincerely,

a concerned citizen named y/n

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.4k (longest one in the series yet)

Warnings: language such as cussing and sexual jokes (they already reached the age of consent), slight fighting, mentions of food, brief description of making out (let me know if i miss some more warnings please)

Note: it's a bit sloppy but here it is

With people talking, singing, dancing and just bashful shouting, the whole auditorium is filled with noises. Today is yet another practice for the school play that everyone has been anticipating, not because of the said plot or storyline, but because of the main lead.

And with that mentioned, the main lead is late.. again.

Y/n works along with the academy’s theatre production. Having the burning passion and desire for writing, she never hesitated to apply as the production’s scriptwriter when she was in her first year then she was promoted to higher positions until she became the director soon after showing a great participation in partaking their school plays.

She swears her whole life that she never had a single problem when it comes to handling the job as a director, not until a certain Jeong Yunho became the main lead of their current play.. and said man is now bursting through the auditorium’s doors with a smug look on his face, making her slightly pissed, as he made his way towards her.

“Mr. Jeong, you’re late again.” She calmly noted as she goes through the script once again so she can backtrack on where they stopped rehearsing yesterday, “I was starting to lose hope that you’ll never come and that we’ll tear the role of the main lead to you.”

Said man pouted at her and said, “You saying that is like stating that you’re starting to lose faith in humanity now. Don’t you think that tearing the main role to me is a little bit rude?”

She snorted and looked up at the man’s sparkling dark brown orbs, “Think about it this way: you asked your girlfriend out on a date and you made her wait, except in our situation, you made the whole crew wait. Don’t you think that’s even more rude?” She planted the script she was holding in his chest and slightly pushed him but she whispered, only for him to hear, “I should be saving this for later when we’re alone but I swear to God Yunho, can you arrive a little bit earlier than the said time and stop your after school’s useless activities? I gave you this role because I have trust that you can pull this off well.”

Yunho visibly deflates as he nodded with understanding and whispered his response back, “I’m sorry baby, something just came up today.”

As usual, she thought as she nodded her head in understanding, “We’ll talk about this later, okay? Just do what you’re supposed to do now.”

Yunho nodded and made his way towards the stage to practice the scene they left yesterday, his eyes not leaving y/n for a moment, never missing the small smile she shot in his direction making him motivated. They all waited for everyone to get settled and waited for their director’s cue.

Y/n scanned her surroundings first, noting that everyone is looking at her as she looks around to make sure everything’s in place before clapping, “Okay! Everyone, let’s get started!”

When the auditorium was filled by no one but y/n and Yunho, they both started cleaning up the leftover scattered props together and fixed their things. They both did it so quietly, but the silence is not the awkward type. Once they were done, they started to make their way out, not forgetting to turn off the lights first.

Y/n was the first one to go out, gesturing to Yunho to meet at their usual place, the other just nodding in understanding.

She first made her way to her locker and put all her things there, noting that Yunho walked past her in a haste as she grabbed her subject related stuff that has activities, projects and assignments due within the week. She silently went to the student council’s lounge room and knocked, only to be welcomed by San who’s smiling brightly.

“Hi, y/n! Long day?” The dimpled man asked as he still didn’t let y/n enter the room. The female nodded in answer and said, “A bit stressful since I have to fix things here and there but nonetheless it’s still fun!” She giggled to herself and tried to push the door to let herself in instead but the door and San himself didn’t budge.

Y/n frowned, “Let me in, San. I need to see Yunho.”

San shook his head and said, “You wait.”

She lets out a sigh, “I’ve waited for Yunho earlier too, now you’re going to make me wait to see him?”

Instead of replying to her, San looked back and gestured silently. She tried to peek in but San stood firm, making him even taller than y/n and blocking the space where she can see the inside of the room.

“You wait.” San said and smiled, “For now, let’s talk.”

Y/n whined, “Sannie,” she said, dragging the last syllable of the man’s name, “Let me in, please?”

She gave her very best puppy eyes to which the others have said is one of her similarities to her boyfriend but it actually did not work on the man guarding the door.

Giving up, she slumped down the floor with the rest of her things and sighed once again, “I just want to sit down on the couch.” She murmured sulkily which didn’t become unheard from San, causing him to giggle.

She waited there, seated on the floor, for at least 5 minutes when she heard the door creak open even more. She glanced up, only to see her handsome boyfriend standing there now, replacing San.

“Come in, bub, you must be tired.” He said with an angelic smile and only if his black messy hair doesn’t make him look hot, y/n must’ve think he’s the most innocent boy ever.

She stood up from the floor and took the hand Yunho had offered as the other grabbed her belongings as well.

She thought that the five minutes wait had mentally prepared her from the image of Seonghwa and his girlfriend making out and doing God knows what goes on under that table, but no, it didn’t prepare her for the sight in front of her.

A congratulatory banner was placed delicately on the wall, decorated with balloons and a few confetti. In the middle of it is an envelope but y/n and her poor eyesight can’t catch what’s written on it. Aside from that, a bunch of snacks are placed there and lastly, a bouquet of daisies sat prettily on the side.

She glanced at her friends, seeing them looking at her with eyes full of pride then she glanced at her boyfriend who holds the same look.

“What’s all this?” She curiously asked as she untangled her hand in her boyfriend’s and made her way to the table.

No one dared to answer her question but they looked at her every action. Sitting atop of the table are two envelopes– one with Yunho’s name, the other with hers. Alongside with it is their desired university’s logo plastered on it.

Oh shit, the results, she thought, I clearly forgot it’s gonna be released today.

She grabbed the two envelopes and made her way to her boyfriend and gave him the other envelope, “Let’s open it together?”

Yunho nodded but Wooyoung interjected, “Nope guys, switch your envelopes!”

“But–”

Wooyoung shrieked, “Just switch it!”

Afraid that their friend will throw a temper tantrum, they immediately switched.

“Okay now open!” Yeosang said, his voice filled with excitement, different to what the couple is feeling.

Mingi then giggled, “It’s like we’re having a gender reveal of their baby.”

Yunho snorted at the remark, “Oh how I wish.”

The others laughed with his response while y/n huffed and smacked his arm, “Just because you took my virginity, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna have a baby soon. We have things to do and achieve, asshole.”

“And now she’s like a pregnant woman experiencing mood swings.” San remarked earning a glare from y/n, making him do the zipping motion in his lips.

“Are you gonna open that or do I have to tear it myself?” Jongho asked as he pointed at the envelopes, only to receive a smack at the back of his head from his own girlfriend, “Patience!” she said.

“I’m pretty good with patience since I waited for you long enough already!” Jongho rebutted, only receiving a roll in the eyes from his girlfriend.

“Are you guys done?” Y/n asked as she made a little tear on the envelope, “I’m gonna open it now.”

“Oh my God, same.” Yunho said as he practically tore the envelope, almost damaging the paper inside too.

“Hey, careful!”

“Sorry!” He said as he tried to grab the paper.

Y/n on the other hand opened Yunho’s envelope and there she saw..

Jeong Yunho

Civil Engineering

Qualified

She squealed and smacked her boyfriend’s arm and jumped at him, thanking the stars that her boyfriend has a quick reflex to catch her.

“Congratulations, love! You passed!” She said as she peppered him with kisses on the face as the other laugh wholeheartedly, “Congratulations to you too, baby. I guess we’re going to be stuck together until we grow old!”

She hugged him tighter and said, “Isn’t that what we always wanted ever since we were kids?”

Yunho chuckled and agreed as she put her down.

Y/n, however, gripped him tighter, “Now tell me though, why were you late?”

“I prepared this whole thing, really. The results just came in the mail today and I planned this whole thing quickly with the help of Seonghwa hyung. I wasn’t even able to finish it because I suddenly remembered we have practice in the middle of decorating.”

She smiled at him fondly, “Okay, you’re excused. Just don’t be late again like you did today and the past practices.” The said male nodded in response and pressed a kiss on her forehead as she giggled and pressed a kiss on his cheek, “I love you.”

Yunho smiled at her with fondness, “I love you too.”

And that’s when y/n knew that no matter what comes in their way, they’ll always end up with each other.

“And with you all finally leaving this place after being stuck here for years or just a year, the academy has decided to give you a grandeur venue! Much more elegant than the previous batches!”

A crowd of student cheers from their tables at the announcement and the visualization of a fairytale-like prom they’re going to experience, but even so, y/n doesn’t give a fuck about it.

She’s not the type to kill the joy, but she never enjoyed proms as well, not because it’s boring or what, but it’s because of the fact that she has to see her own boyfriend bring other girls that are not her as his date.

Don’t get her wrong, y/n is not one to show her jealousy. However, she hates the fact that Yunho only brings this one specific girl to prom that she grew to hate because she became the most egotistical person right after Yunho asked her to be his date. She hates how smug she looks at every single girl, including y/n, and brag to people that she’s the Jeong Yunho’s date and that she sees the future with the both of them being together.

She scoffed and poked a slice of her steak, immediately bringing it to her mouth. This is her favorite food, but she lost her appetite hence the reason why she’s slowing down with her eating.

Seonghwa’s girlfriend who was sitting beside her looked at her with eyes full of concern but she never spoke up about it, not until a squealing girl in the form of Jongho’s girlfriend came barreling towards their place.

“Hi, girls!” She chirped happily, earning the attention of the nearby tables and one of those is where their boyfriends are seated, “Any plans for prom?”

Seonghwa’s girlfriend visibly lights up, “Going to accompany Hwa to fit some suits tomorrow since it's the weekend. We’re also planning that I can stay over at their place so we won’t make a mess at the house.” She took a bite of her fries and giggled, “You know how Hongjoong hates sharing places too.”

With the mention of his name, Hongjoong retorted from the other table, “I just hate how you literally take up every single available space at our house! That’s not sharing.”

Both tables shared a bunch of laughter as they’re provided with the entertainment of the twins bantering when Jongho’s girlfriend noticed that y/n was barely giving a reaction compared to usual. She subtly touched her forearm and whispered, “Hey, you seem off. Do you want to talk?”

Y/n just nodded and stood up silently, bringing her plate along with her as Jongho’s girlfriend told Hongjoong’s twin that they have to go to their secret spot, as if it was a silent agreement, which caused the banterning occurring to die down. The other female nodded and fixed her things.

Y/n made her way past the boys’ table without sparing them a single glance, ignoring the concerned look at their faces especially the ones from Yunho, and made her way to the patio of their school where a secret garden is connected.

She sat at their usual spot as she waited for her friends who then came barreling in after five minutes.

Seonghwa’s girlfriend sat on her left side while the other on her right. They both have these look of concern until Jongho’s girlfriend decided to break it, “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“I don’t feel like going to prom.” She said honestly and crushed the soil underneath using the heels of her shoes.

“But why? It’s our final prom. Don’t you want to spend it with Yu-” Jongho’s girlfriend was cut off when the other female beside her beat into it, “You’re thinking about Sooah and Yunho, am I right?”

Y/n nodded and let out a defeated sigh, “I can’t do this shit anymore.”

“Wait, y/n–”

“I’m so tired of hiding our relationship. Part of me regrets that I asked it as a favor because I don’t want people to see us and then tease us or something like that.” A sad smile made its way to her face as she said, “I guess I have to live with it no matter how much I want to tell the world that I love him.”

The other two girls didn’t say anything more but they hugged her so tight that the shared warmth spread through her heart. Out of all the promenades that they attended ever since she and Yunho started dating two years ago, this is the first time she voiced out her feelings and how she feels agitated that the fact Yunho is bringing someone else instead of her.

They stayed like that for at least 15 minutes until they decided to go back to the school canteen where a commotion is happening. However, they never failed to notice the seven other boys, Yunho noticeably missing, sitting in the corner noticing the look of uncertainty they’re sparing in the commotion as they approach them.

Seonghwa’s girlfriend beats it to them, “What’s happening and where’s Yunho?”

Y/n noticed the glance Seonghwa had given her and she felt her stomach drop. Her eyes suddenly became teary as she abruptly stood up, her friends shouting her name as she ran to the opposite side of where the commotion was.

With that, Seonghwa lets out a sigh, “Yunho just asked Sooah to prom.”

It was another day of school.

Yunho wasn’t able to talk to y/n as she’s so dedicated to ignoring him. He even cancelled his plans with Sooah, the girl whining because he promised her but out of all things, Yunho knew that he just broke the most important promise he made into existence.

He was currently seated at their usual spot at the canteen, glaring at everything wherever his eyes landed, may it be a person or a thing, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s squeezing his mind on where y/n could be since the table next to them that is usually filled with squealing girls is currently empty.

The seven of them are just quietly eating, Seonghwa texting whoever the fuck it may be in his phone as he eat his already sliced steak. Yunho, however, aggressively adds his grated cheese above his carbonara pasta and harshly mixes it as well. The others were just doing their homeworks that are probably due today as they quietly eat their meals. Wooyoung, however, is out of sight.

Yunho continued eating his meal in a manner like he’s a child throwing a tantrum and Seonghwa had enough of it. Carefully placing his phone on the table, Seonghwa spoke, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jeong?”

The man in question glared at his friend but then let out a sigh. He was about to speak when a constipated-looking Wooyoung made his appearance, sitting beside Yeosang who gave him a weirded out look. Concerned with his state, Yunho asked, “Why do you look like that?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat and placed his intertwined hands neatly on the remaining empty space above the table. He looked around as if looking for some possible snitch until Jongho had enough of it, “Can’t you just fucking speak and stop making us wait?”

Wooyoung flinched at the harshness, then looked at Yunho for a while and said, “The girls are having lunch at the pond.”

“Yeah, we know.” Seonghwa said casually as he stuffed himself full with his second round of steak.

Yunho raised a brow, “So that’s where they are.”

He was about to stand up but Seonghwa stopped him and asked Wooyoung, “I’m pretty sure that’s not just it, what happened?”

He nervously glanced at Yunho then gulped before he spoke, “U-Uhm, Jihyun asked y/n to be his prom date.”

Everyone at the table suddenly became agitated as they squirmed and adjusted themselves in their seats. Yunho, however, is frighteningly calm, “Can you please repeat what you just said?”

The color drained from Wooyoung as he saw his friend like this, making him unable to repeat what he said.

Impatient, Yunho immediately stood and walked away from their table without saying anything as he made his way to the place Wooyoung said earlier. He didn’t spare his friends a glance, depending on them if they’ll follow him but Yunho knows they’ll most likely will.

True to what Wooyoung had said, a crowd has already gathered to where he can see Jongho’s girlfriend was looking around in an uncomfortable manner. Their eyes met and her eyes widened in panic and asked for help through the look she’s giving him as well. He made his way towards the enlarging circle of crowd, some are cooing, some are squealing silently, some are encouraging the boy who’s currently in front of his girlfriend.

Some noticed his presence and made his way for him. He made himself not so noticeable which worked out quite well despite his height and then he watched.

-

Y/n and her friends are eating their lunch peacefully in one of the picnic tables near the pond, talking within themselves about her thoughts and feelings regarding what her boyfriend’s been up to lately.

Seonghwa’s girlfriend lets out a sigh, “Why won’t you just talk to Yunho and tell him all of this? You know he’s just respecting your wishes of not outing your relationship to everyone, right?”

“That’s not my point,” Y/n said, “It’s just that he spends less time with me. The only time we can be together is during the weekends when I come over to his place.”

“Exactly, y/n,” Jongho’s girlfriend said as she munched on her tempura, “You know that he has to keep up his image of always flirting with Sooah. You’re not bothered with it before.”

The girl in the hot seat lets out a sigh. She was about to speak when someone cleared her throat, making her look back only to see the sight of Jihyun, the guy that everyone talks about.

Jihyun is the total opposite of Yunho. If Yunho is the bad boy who causes nothing but misconduct, Jihyun is the model student. Both of them are in the basketball team but they don’t go in each other’s ways to show respect towards each other as schoolmates and team mates.

Y/n considers him as her acquaintance when they get paired together in a debate competition.

“Hi Jihyun, do you need something?”

The guy in question scratched his head and asked, “Are you going to prom?”

The girl was a bit taken aback but still answered, “I might.”

“Oh,” he exclaimed. Suddenly, his eyes got excited, “If I asked you to be my prom date, will you come?”

Slightly taken shocked y/n asked, “Wait, what?”

Jihyun lets out a deep sigh and said, “Y/n I’ve liked you ever since we got paired for that debate competition,” He sat beside her and held her hand, making y/n panic as she noticed how the crowd’s growing as well, “Shin y/n, you’re smart, beautiful, and it's not hard to adore you. I’ve been wanting to ask you out since then but now that we’re already in our last year of high school, I figured that this could be our steppingstone to level up our relationship. So I’m asking you a question, will you be my prom date?”

Y/n felt conflicted.

She doesn’t want to reject Jihyun but she also doesn’t want to have anyone as her prom date that is not Yunho. She knows how jealous he could be.

She let out a sigh and said, “I’m sorry, Jihyun, I can’t.”

The reactions from everyone around them was a bunch of gasps and an exclaim of disbelief.

“She rejected Jeon Jihyun? What the fuck? Is she nuts?”

“They’re perfect for each other, what the fuck.”

“She thinks she’s so pretty that she had the guts to reject him.”

The guy in front of her, however, shook his head in disbelief, “You rejected me? Why? It’s not like you’re dating someone! I’m handsome, smart, kind and–”

“And nothing compared to me.”

Everyone, including y/n, looked at where the voice came from.

There stood Yunho who had his hands in his pocket, a smug smirk painted on his face, “It’s not like you’re dating someone.” Yunho quotes and laughs, “Come on, Jihyun. I exist.”

“I know you exist but you’re not the type to date someone like her.” Jihyun defends as he grabs y/n’s hand and tightens his hold on her. The girl squirms, trying to go to her friends but Jihyun pulls her harshly, causing her to stumble on the ground.

“Get up,” Jihyun said and pulled her up harshly, “We’re going somewhere else.” Was all he said and pulled her away immediately but Yunho was not having it.

Yunho immediately grabbed his girlfriend’s hand in his, signaling her to go to her friends then faced Jihyun with a smirk before landing a solid punch on his face.

“You, Jeon Jihyun, shouldn’t grab girls like that.” Yunho said and landed another punch, “You should learn how to treat people with respect.”

“You should also learn how to respect their decisions. If she says no then it’s a no. Being an asshole doesn’t make you attractive.” He got up and was satisfied with what happened to Jihyun then looked at y/n before fixing himself.

Standing tall, he announced, “From now on, whoever dared to go and attempt to ask y/n out to prom or just flirt with her, you have to go through me, her boyfriend.”

“Her what?”

“They’re dating?”

“I thought he and Sooah are a thing?”

That comment caugh Yunho’s attention and said, “Sooah and I was never a thing. I only just go with the flow with what she wants because I don’t want to see a grown up girl throwing a three-year old-like temper tantrum.”

More comments were heard but Yunho ignored it as he went to his girlfriend. He offered her his hand and said, “Let’s talk.”

Y/n just stared at her boyfriend but Yunho has his pleading puppy eyes.

“Yunho–”

“Please, y/n.”

She let out a sigh, knowing that she couldn’t deny him any longer and held his hand. Yunho beamed and brought her somewhere they could be alone together.

Yunho brought her to the lounge room where they usually stay and she noticed that a few of the decorations from the congratulatory surprise for her from two weeks before are still there, even a few of the daisies from the bouquet are still on the vase that they have above the coffee table. She sat on one of the couches and she grabbed a wilting daisy and studied the flower in between her fingertips.

Her boyfriend just watched her from the door, admiring her silently until he remembered to lock the door behind him and went towards her right after.

Y/n scooted a bit to give space to Yunho and let him wrap his arms around her waist without saying anything. They stayed silent for a while. No one dared to move, they just let their hearts beat as one, their breathing stable until Yunho spoke, “Baby, I’m sorry.”

The girl only scooted closer to him and slightly smiled, “It’s..” She paused for a while as she collected her thoughts, noticing that the man beside her froze up a bit. She giggles, “It’s so liberating!”

Yunho made a confused noise turning to a groan as the girls accidentally elbowed his side as she tried to stand up, earning a quick sorry from her. She turned around at him and sat at his lap, Yunho’s reflexes kicking in as he held her on her hips with confusion in his eyes.

She cupped his face, “Yunho..” Her eyes got teary and Yunho never failed to notice it. Sitting up properly, he held her in a tight hug, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

She sniffled a bit, “N-Nothing, I just feel happy!” She said in an enthusiastic voice but slightly cracking, “I-I’m sorry, Yun.”

“No, no, baby. Hey, if someone has to be sorry, it’s me.” Yunho replied solemnly as he caressed her back calmly.

“No, it should be me. I wanted us to hide our relationship out of fear that people will judge us because you know.. I hold the reputation of a model student while you have this..” She vaguely gestures around making her boyfriend laugh, “A bad boy, baby. You can say it.”

“Yeah, that!” She said and pouted as she grabbed one of Yunho’s single hand that had been bruised, “You’re hurt.. and gonna get detention.”

“It’s nothing baby, I do this to assholes who infuriates me.” Yunho smirked and then placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, “I’m fine.”

She huffs, stood up and went to where their first aid kits are. They usually keep those in here because the boys usually get into fights, mostly Hongjoong or Mingi being backed up by the others.

She went back to the couch and started to clean Yunho’s knuckles with an iodopovidone then wrapped it up with a bandage right after then placed a kiss on it. Y/n smiled at Yunho, “Done.”

The other just smiled and pulled her to his lap, “Dr. Shin, thank you for taking care of me.” He said as he peppered her with kisses, “You’re so perfect for me. Always looking after me and the others.”

Yunho then held her face then caressed her cheeks where she leaned on his hand, heart full of content, “You don’t deserve me.”

Y/n snapped out of her affection-filled stupor as she stared at Yunho and saw nothing but seriousness in his eyes. The latter took this as a sign to continue, “I did nothing but hurt you. I give you nothing but lots of headache and make you do all the work so I don’t get in trouble for real.”

Yunho dropped his head down and chuckled dryly, “Why are you with me, y/n? You know that it’s like I’m basically cheating on you whenever I take Sooah as my date during prom just for the show.”

“No?” Y/n said, her eyebrows furrowing, “Do you kiss her like you do to me behind my back? Do you fuck her against the wall like you do to me when she’s being a brat? Do you take her out on dates behind my back? Did you introduce her to your parents like how you did with me before? Do you willingly take her out and tell her to not say a word to anyone else in fear that you’ll get caught?”

Yunho shook his head with all of the things she had said and was about to speak but she cut him off to it, “You don’t. I know. You only do it when the crowd wants something from the two of you. You don’t even touch her hand or wrap your arm around her waist.” She said gesturing to the arm that is now wrapped around her, “The thing is that you act up with her when I see you and I think it’s one of the reasons why I tolerate the show you give everyone since then.”

“I really don’t mind,” She added then pouted, “Well now I do because the weekend routine was broken, but aside from that I really don’t mind.”

Y/n giggled then whispered in her boyfriend’s ear, “Besides, she doesn't get to ride your dick like I do.”

“Hey, stop being a brat, you little minx.” Yunho said and squeezed her hip, “You’re gonna make me pop a boner in the middle of feeling guilty.”

She couldn’t help but laugh and placed her arms in her shoulders, “Then don’t because I’m not mad at you. Just a bit sulky.”

“You didn’t talk to me for four days.”

“You deserve that, you broke your promise!”

“Justifiable.”

The both shared a smile as they stared at each other until y/n squirmed in his lap and said, “Kiss me, Jeong.”

Yunho didn't need to be told twice as he immediately closed the distance between the two of them. The sweet innocent kiss suddenly turns into something else, the atmosphere around them turning hot, making Yunho slightly sweat as he removes her blazer and she unbuttons his shirt slowly.

He licked her lower lip, a sign that he’s asking for access to her mouth but his little brat didn’t even budge so he bit her lip hard, too hard that he accidentally broke her skin making her yelp. He took it as an opportunity to insert his tongue, exploring her wet cavern as she tried to fight dominance with his.

Things were getting even more heated and before it even escalated, they didn’t even hear the sound of the key jingling and door unlocking as they were too busy with their own world. It was then that they heard a scream making them separate from each other.

“Christ, we came here all worried for the both of you only to see the both of you nearly fucking here, and not to mention in the lounge room?!” Seonghwa nearly yells as his girlfriend tries to calm him down. The reprimanded couple lets out their own apologies as they fixed their disheveled state as the others entered.

San looked so smug as he said, “Damn that was so hot though, I nearly wished I was there to watch the whole thing go down south.”

Yunho only glared at him, grumbling a ‘Fuck off, Choi San,’ earning a glare from the other since he hated being called by his full name.

Jongho came in last with some plastic bags which seemed to contain food boxes and said, “Seonghwa hyung pulled up some strings so we’re excused for the rest of the day. Here’s an uh.. extended lunch. We decided to just order McDonald’s instead.”

Everyone got their own food and ate silently, the others feeling relieved that they no longer have to witness a sulking giant puppy eating his lunch.

However, curiosity got the best of them and Yeosang decided to vocalize the question they all had, “Seonghwa hyung, what excuse did you say to the extent that they allowed it to be half of the school day?”

The man in question scratched his head and said, “I said we’re shouldering the prom committee and that we’re starting planning today.”

Everyone stopped eating their food only to look at Seonghwa wide-eyed and then Wooyoung shrieked, “What the fuck?!”

It was what triggered the chaos and complaints, Seonghwa shrinking down, especially with his girlfriend glaring daggers at her.

However, the two newly reconciled couple only looked at each other, Yunho then grabbed his phone and typed something, only for y/n’s to receive a ping.

Opening her phone, she saw a text from her boyfriend, Go to prom with me?

She couldn’t help but giggle and replied immediately, Absolutely.

The next few weeks has been nothing but a busy week for them.

Y/n and Yunho have been more focused with theatre practices and then coming over Seonghwa’s house right after to plan and prepare for the prom. It has been so exhausting that they asked permission to their parents to stay together for the remaining months left so that they wouldn’t consume so much time going back and forth from school to Seonghwa’s house then going back home once again.

Of course their parents allowed them, not forgetting to remind them, especially the established couples to use protection which earned a lot of teasing remarks from their other friends.

They decided to stay at Seonghwa’s house since his parents are overseas for a few months which is enough time for them to prepare. Seonghwa also decided to assign his group of friends for the yearbook to which the others immediately agreed since they thought it’s a nice thing to keep their records detention free for at least a few months.

Today, however, is a special day for y/n.

It’s the performance day of the play she directed and she’s even more nervous as hell than the actors themselves.

She’s nervously waiting backstage where she’s staying in the same waiting room as her boyfriend’s. The guy was too busy to take notice of his girlfriend shaking from nervousness as he’s too engrossed to the game he’s playing.

After a round though, he noticed that she’s shaking and he just wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her in front of the mirror. They just looked at each other there and she smiled, “We look cute, what the hell.”

Yunho laughed and kissed her head, “We always do, baby.” He spun her around, making her face him, “However, you’re too nervous for my liking.” He shot her a smile and continued, “We’re going to do well, baby. You directed this, you guided me. Have a little faith in our team, okay?”

She lets out a sigh, “I have faith in our team, I’m just nervous that the audience wouldn’t like it.”

“They’ll love it, baby. It’s something that everyone can relate to. And besides,” Yunho smirked at her and said, “Everyone likes me.”

She rolled her eyes and slapped his chest, making them laugh.

“Let’s take some pictures.” She said and they snapped photos after photos.

When they’re done, one of the production team members knocks and smiles, “Hi, it’s showtime.”

Seonghwa made his way downstairs only to be met with the sight of Y/n in her fluffy pajamas, munching her one out of her hundred pieces (don’t ask, Yunho paid for it) of chicken nuggets in a very sulky way. She had a cute pout on her face as she helps Jongho’s girlfriend with what’s assigned to them.

He made his way towards his girlfriend who’s lounging like a queen with their cat, Aeongi, in her lap on one of their couches in the living room. He planted a kiss on her lips and asked, “What happened to y/n?”

She just giggled as she lazily ran her hand in the cat’s soft fur and replied, “She’s sulky because Yunho’s been trending in the school’s gossip.”

Confused, Seonghwa voiced out, “But Yunho’s always trending in the gossip page, though?”

“Yes, darling. But it’s different right now.” She said and opened her phone to let him see the comments.

xxxlila@kq.academy

have you seen jeong yunho? he’s so handsome!

vera@kq.academy

jeong yunho pls step on me

aerikka@kq.academy

i cant believe jeong yunho’s no longer single but he did so well during the play. didn’t expect that from him, considering his reputation!

Seonghwa couldn’t help but snort as he read some more comments. Deciding to tease the girl he said, “Hey y/n, a lot of people are volunteering to get railed by Yunho.”

The others looked at the said girl who shrieked so loud that Yunho tumbled from the kitchen with wide eyes, “What happened?”

Y/n, however, only whined, “He’s mine.” She said and huffed making the others laugh.

Yunho just scratched his head and sat beside her as he held his cup of ramen and stole a piece of her chicken nugget, earning a cry from the girl.

The others fondly watched the oldest couple that has been established within their group, all of them silently wishing for them to last longer and be together until they grow old.

“Wow..” Yunho is absolutely speechless, staring at the girl in front of him, “Baby, you’re so fucking pretty.” He said as he held her hand and twirled her around to see the details of her gown.

She couldn’t help but giggle and hugged him in his waist as he said, “You look good too, Yunnie. Very enticing.”

Today is their prom day and Yunho came to pick her up at their house. He recently got his driver’s license after turning nineteen but his parents insisted that they should be accompanied to the place with their personal driver and Yunho can no longer go against it because it’s his parent's wishes.

After months of stressing over the preparations, nearly forgetting Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s birthday, most of them decided to hold the ball on a beautiful day of April, just a few days before their graduation.

They settled with the theme of fairytale, glad that most students are willing to pay the huge expenses and sponsor the scholars who can’t afford to pay the fee.

To say that the venue is extravagant is an understatement. The Kim twins are the ones in charge with decorating the whole place and to say Seonghwa’s satisfaction was met is not enough to describe how content he felt when he saw the outcome.

They were mostly excused from classes but they always made sure to do their class related works within their tight schedule like they usually do. They did everything together for the remaining months and today is the day where they know that their hard work will pay off.

Seonghwa and his girlfriend came into view as Yunho and y/n both stared at each other lovingly. The two arriving couple couldn’t help but snort and broke them out of their trance, “You two look so fucking lovely but the prom hasn’t even started yet you’re already fucking each other with your eyes.”

Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh at his girlfriend’s remark especially when y/n pouted and planted her face to Yunho’s neck, the tall guy giggling at his girlfriend’s actions.

“Let’s wait for the others then we’ll go inside?”

The other three agreed to Yunho’s suggestion, talking about random things as they waited for the others.

—

The day escalated quickly.

From everyone screaming and jumping to hype songs, to eating expensive dinners catered by Wooyoung’s family restaurant, to currently slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor without thinking about anything.

Yunho has his arms tightly wrapped around y/n, perfect as usual, right where it’s supposed to be. They’re swaying along the song, Yunho softly singing the lyrics between the two of them as y/n stared at him lovingly.

They’re aware of the gazes that they’ve been receiving but neither of them actually cares at all.

What matters is that they’re together.

They’re happy.

Y/n ran her fingertips in Yunho’s cheek bone, her boyfriend leaning to her touch with his eyes closed. She smiled at the action and said, “High school’s nearing its end.”

He opened his eyes and replied, “Another chapter of our lives,” He placed a kiss on her forehead, “I can’t wait to spend every single day with you, finally. No boundaries, no one stopping us. Nothing. Just us.”

She softly smiled, “Just us.” She repeated and planted a kiss in his lips, “I’m looking forward to the future.”

“So am I, especially if it’s with you.”

If Yunho’s going to be honest, the concept of the future is something he’s afraid of. He’s not sure how many challenges will he face, how many failures he’ll experience and what sacrifices he will have to make in order to satisfy himself with success.

He’s also afraid of the fact that he doesn’t know what will happen to him and y/n in the future.

But as his parents had said, no one cares about the future. No one cares about what is written in the stars.

Today is what matters, not even tomorrow or the next day after.

If he’s spending today in his lover’s arms, then he’s filled with content and happiness.

taglist: @little-precious-baby @treasure-hwa @yunhobabygurl @raysanshine @masterninjacow

[jaskierswolf]

An Ocean Away

Geraskier soulmate AU - A gift for my own darling soulmate @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde.

Words: 3.8k

CW:  Big mutual pining, long distance friendships, and a lot of swearing, fucking the ocean is not advised...

Read on AO3

___________

Jaskier stared at his phone and sighed loudly. Geralt was still asleep and really Jaskier should be working but he missed him. How that was even possible he wasn’t sure, they’d never even met. Geralt was all the way across the other side of the fucking ocean. Jaskier hated it. The soul bond had snapped into place on Jaskier’s birthday. He’d waited up until midnight, shaking with excitement. He’d known there was a chance his soulmate was younger than him but he didn’t care, his soulmate would be worth the wait.

Luckily for him, Geralt was a couple of years older. 

Unluckily for him, Geralt also lived in America. 

He sighed again and thumped his head against his desk, earning a withered glare from his boss across the room. God, he really needed to get out of his job. He was an artist, a musician! He shouldn’t be stuck in an office inputting data. 

‘Geralt….’  He called out mentally, hoping to reach his soulmate in his dreams but it was no use. Geralt was down for the count and probably wouldn’t wake up for several hours. 

Instead, Jaskier sighed loudly for the third time and remembered their first conversation with a fond smile. 

‘Helloooooo’ he called out, fidgeting with his bedsheets. ‘anybody there?’

‘What the fuck?’ a gruff response came and Jaskier could just about make out the image of some kind of restaurant if he focussed hard enough, but that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

‘You’re American?!’ he wanted to cry. He couldn’t afford to fly out to America, not unless he followed his sisters into the family business and regained access to the Bank of Dad. 

‘Fuck.’

Ah so his soulmate was a man of many words. He grinned a flopped back onto his bed. ‘I’m Jaskier, by the way, I’m from England.’

‘I’m at work, can this wait?’ his soulmate growled. 

Jaskier’s heart sank. ‘Right, yes, yes… of course. I umm… well I need to go to sleep. I’m bloody exhausted. Wake me up when you’re finished?’

‘Hmm.’

Geralt hadn’t managed to wake him up. Although he still maintained to this day that he’d yelled out as much as he could without actually yelling aloud, and Jaskier had slept through the whole damn thing. Geralt’s mind was pretty quiet. He didn’t often project his thoughts unless they were actively conversing. Jaskier on the other hand kept up a steady stream of thoughts, showing Geralt the pretty flowers that he saw on the way to work, or humming new songs just for his soulmate to hear, anything that he thought Geralt might find interesting. 

He pressed the home button on his phone again. Barely five minutes since the last time he’d checked. It wasn’t even time for lunch yet, let alone time for Geralt to wake up. He hoped they’d have time to video chat before Geralt had to go to work that evening but he was pretty sure that his soulmate was on an early shift. He groaned, and reluctantly started angrily jabbing at his keyboard. The endless stream of emails and shitty clients were not helping his mood. Why couldn’t Geralt be on a closing shift? At least then they’d be able to talk properly before Jaskier had to go to sleep. 

“Would you stop being so pathetic, Julian?” Valdo sneered from the desk opposite Jaskier’s. 

“You’re just angry because your soulmate hasn’t made contact yet,” Jaskier snapped back. 

They were both twenty-four and Valdo’s soulmate was either ignoring him or was still underage. Jaskier almost pitied the man; almost. 

“Just get on with your work, Julian and stop clock watching.”

Jaskier muttered a few rather inappropriate for work words under his breath and turned back to his computer. He managed to get one whole email dealt with before losing focus again. He shifted in his seat so he could sit cross-legged on the chair, and then tried again. After another few emails his feet started to tingle. 

“Oh bollocks,” he whined and jumped off the chair, hopping around the office. 

“For god’s sake, Julian!”

“My name… is Jaskier!” He snapped “and I’ve got bloody pins and needles!”

‘Jaskier?’ Geralt’s voice was bleary and slurred in his mind.

He squeaked and promptly fell on his arse, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from grinning madly. “Geralt’s awake!” he announced to the office. 

“Take your lunch early,” Tissaia sighed “God only knows you won’t get anything else done until you’ve spoken to Geralt.”

Jaskier beamed at his boss. Fuck he could kiss her. She was so understanding and wonderful and… 

And he still hadn’t responded to Geralt!

‘Geralt, darling, hello!’ he trilled happily in his mind, spinning his chair around so he was sitting backwards. 

‘Are you ok?’ Geralt hummed ‘Felt angry.’

Jaskier squeaked, unable to contain the swell of love in his chest. God damn it he just wanted to hug Geralt. It wasn’t fair. Priscilla and Essi had only lived two towns away from each other. Triss had grown up with Yennefer, and yet Jaskier was stuck with a soulmate on the other side of the fucking planet. 

‘Fuck the ocean,’ he grumbled

He heard Geralt’s laughter, echoed with a phantom feeling of mirth that wasn’t his own. ‘Fuck the ocean’ he agreed. 

‘I’m moving to America, I’m going to invent portals and I am never letting you go,’  Jaskier sighed. 

Geralt hummed again. He was tired, Jaskier could feel it. ‘Go back to sleep, darling.’

‘When’s your lunch break over?’

‘I have half hour.’

‘I’ll wait.’

Jaskier smiled dopily at his phone. There was a picture of Geralt and his horse, Roach, on the lock screen. He unlocked it quickly to check his clock app. He knew the timezone difference by heart at this point but he still needed to check. It was a habit that he had yet to break. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Jaskier felt like crying. He just wanted to hold his soulmate. He wanted to know whether that love was platonic or romantic or what? He just… he knew he would love Geralt with every fibre of his being, and would be happy no matter what. That’s how soulmates worked after all. They were your match, and not everyone’s match was romantic. 

Oh but how he yearned.  He was pathetic. 

‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you too’ Geralt hummed and Jaskier felt an ache through the bond that wasn’t his. He smiled sadly. He wasn’t the only one being pathetic. 

They fell silent, Jaskier gazing longingly at his lock screen, trying desperately not to fall apart in the middle of his office. Maybe he should go for a walk. Maybe he should just quit his job and move to America. His soulmate was American so he wouldn’t have to worry about visas as long as he could prove Geralt was his. He just…. 

“Fuck,” he groaned and buried his head in his arms. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and there was a lump caught in his throat. “Sorry, Tissaia. I’m, I’m, well, I’m going for a walk.”

He practically launched out of his chair towards the door. Not even bothering to grab his coat. He closed his eyes and reached out to Geralt, feeling a phantom embrace as Geralt reached back. It wasn’t as good as a real hug but no real hug could soothe the ache of having to live so far apart from his soulmate. 

‘Jask?’

Jaskier practically ran away from his office, down the road towards the woodland that surrounded the campus. His hands were pulling at his hair and he muttered nonsense under his breath. He counted every step that took him away from the building. He liked to imagine that every step brought him closer to Geralt but really he wasn’t entirely sure. 

‘I miss you,’ he hummed again. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘I know.’

‘We’ve never even met… six years Geralt! Fuck it, fuck this shit, fuck this job,’ he kicked at the ground. ‘I don’t even want to work in an office. It was supposed to be temporary.’

‘Then quit?’

Jaskier snorted. ‘I can’t afford it.’

His father’s face flitted in front of him. He could afford it if only he weren’t so bloody stubborn. He could work in his father’s company and he could go to America to see Geralt. Why couldn’t he just accept that? Why was he insisting on making his own way?

‘Jaskier, no. It’s not worth it,’ Geralt’s voice wrapped around him like a blanket. ‘Don’t compromise on your dreams for me.’

‘But I love you!’ he whined pitifully. 

‘I know and I love you too, but you’ll only resent me.’

Jaskier huffed and slid to the ground, his back resting against a tree. He rest his forehead on his knees and began to cry. Soulmates weren’t supposed to live apart for this long, it was too taxing on both parties but destiny had been cruel to them. He sobbed helplessly, his body shuddering as he dug his nails into the grass, tearing up chunks and throwing them away. 

It was only when he heard his phone ring that he managed sort of pull himself out of it. He wiped his eyes and peered at the phone. 

Geralt.

Of course it was, Geralt. His soulmate was video calling him. He swiped the screen to pick up and sniffed loudly. He didn’t need to sniff as loudly as he did, and he didn’t need to pout pathetically at the screen as he picked up… but he was sad and dramatic. He wanted extra sympathy points from Geralt. 

“Hi,” he whined, still pouting and widening his eyes slightly for added effect. Geralt’s room was dark, just a small light turned on just out of the camera. It was a shame because he couldn’t ogle the other man quite as much as he would normally like. 

Still, Geralt looked adorable. Stubble was starting to grow on his cheeks and his hair was a mess, falling in front of his eyes like rays of moonlight. “Hi.”

“I love you,” Jaskier whined as if he hadn’t already told Geralt that a hundred times today already. 

Geralt, the bastard, just laughed at him. “I know, love.”

“I know. I know… but… I love you?”

“I love you too,” Geralt sighed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. 

Jaskier still hadn’t managed to work out whether Geralt’s eyes were really that colour or whether it was just some trick of the light. In all the photos and video calls they looked golden, but Jaskier had never met anyone with golden eyes before. He hadn’t even realised it was possible. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Then again, he’d seen Eskel and Lambert, Geralt’s brothers, and they also had the same molten gold eyes. 

Between Yennefer and Geralt’s family, Jaskier felt very plain. He was attractive enough but in such a normal way, nothing compared to Geralt’s silvery hair that made him look like he’d been blessed by the spirits of winter, and his swirling amber eyes that blazed like the sun, and then Yennefer with her locks of raven hair and piercing violet eyes. 

He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip. God, why was he surrounded by such beautiful people. Brown hair, blue eyes and a dead end job. 

“Hey?” Geralt’s gruff voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re important to me.”

Jaskier smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. He wasn’t entirely sure what emotions he’d been channeling through their bond but it was obviously enough for Geralt to be concerned. “I love you.”

Geralt tilted his head at the camera and smiled fondly, it was obscured by the darkness and the terrible quality of Geralt’s phone camera but it still managed to melt Jaskier’s heart. Stupid, dumb, soulmate. Why did he have to live in America?

“I have a plan?” Geralt said quietly, looking around his room and not meeting Jaskier’s eyes. 

“A plan?”

“The restaurant I work at has live music nights,” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier frowned. He already knew that. Geralt had mentioned it before. Normally when he was complaining about the quality of the music. Jaskier adored him for that. He loved to judge other people’s music, and he rather smugly loved the way Geralt had only ever said nice things about his own songs. 

“Right?” he asked slowly, not quite understanding where Geralt was going with this.

“I spoke to Dad,” Geralt paused, licking his lips. Jaskier swallowed. It wasn’t fair. How could one man be so unreasonably attractive? He tucked at the sleeves of his jumper whilst he waited for Geralt to finish his thought. The cuffs had holes in and were fraying but it was soft and made the work day more bearable. If he gave a shit about his job he might wear nicer clothes but he’d rather be comfortable. 

“Vesemir?” Jaskier prompted gently. 

“He could help pay for the flights, a loan and we’ll have to pay him back,” Geralt mumbled, still not making any sense. “My apartment isn’t very big but you’re welcome to share until you find your own place? If you want your own place. I’m not making assumptions. I don’t expect you to share just because we’re soulmates but it would be cheaper and the restaurant wouldn’t be able to pay that much at first. You’d be playing music for a living though, and I know that’s what you really want to do,” Geralt cut himself of with a sharp sniff, letting out a low snarl. “Actually forget it, it’s a stupid idea.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s heart was racing. It almost sounded like Geralt was asking him to move to America? More than that, his own family was offering to help pay for the flights that neither of them could afford on their own. 

“I said forget it,” the phone snapped off and the screen went blank but Geralt was his soulmate and it wasn’t quite that easy to runaway. 

‘I don’t want to forget it,’ Jaskier told him, trying to push all the love he had for Geralt through the bond. ‘Are you asking me to move in with you, Geralt?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Geralt,’ he admonished gently. ‘I can’t quit my job on a maybe.’

‘Yes.’

Jaskier grinned. ‘I’ll resign after lunch.’

Jaskier had been tempted to just grab his bag and leave the office for good, but Tissaia had been good to him. She’d put up with his moping for the last three years and even allowed him flexible lunch breaks so he could talk to Geralt when he was awake. Not all bosses would be so forgiving. So he worked his notice. She hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when he announced his plans, if fact she seemed more surprised that it had taken so long to make the plans. He supposed most soulmates did move to be closer at the first available opportunity and he’d been pining over Geralt for six long years. 

Valdo had been his usual grumpy self, sneering that Jaskier hadn’t been able to cope with the job, but there was something in his eyes, a sadness that Jaskier hadn’t expected. They had known each other since university and their rivalry was almost an act these days, but he’d thought that Valdo would be pleased to see the back of him. 

His friends organised a wonderful goodbye party for him. Yennefer pulling out all the stops to make sure he had the best send off. If it weren’t for the pull of Geralt and his soulmate, he’d almost be tempted to stay. England had been his home since he was born and his life was there, his friends were there. 

But Geralt was not. 

And there was the promise of a career in music on the other side of the pond. It was too much to resist. So Jaskier packed up his flat. He pack a rucksack full of his favourite clothes and picked up his guitar. 

Then he drove to the airport, leaving England behind for good. The flight had been almost unbearable. It was long and cramped. He spent most of the time wittering to Geralt, not that his soulmate had responded much. The lucky bugger had been asleep whilst Jaskier tried desperately to block out the noise of screaming children. At one point he started singing a popular Disney tune to try and calm the children but it had only made them more excitable and he’d earned several disapproving glares from their parents. He’d been more than relieved when the plane started its final descent towards the airport.

And then the nerves kicked in. 

Six years of talking through their bond, text or video call… 

What if Geralt realised he didn’t like Jaskier once they met in person? 

Surely some soulmates didn’t get along. Not everyone could be that lucky… could they? 

He was currently waiting for his guitar case to come round the carousel and he was panicking. He should have packed more clothes. He should have brought more belongings. He should have, he should have, he should have. 

‘Jaskier!’ Geralt called and the effect was instantaneous. The tension melted from his shoulders and his fingers relaxed by his side. 

‘Sorry,’ he shot back ‘just nervous.’

He’d feel a lot calmer once he had his guitar strapped to his back and Geralt in his arms. He chewed anxiously as he followed the pieces of the luggage belt with his gaze. He’d always enjoyed watching the way they shifted around as they trailed like a conga line around the airport terminal. His eyes kept flickering to the entrance of the carousel where luggage was pushing through the large rubber drapes. 

“Come on,” he muttered, hopping from one foot to another.

The anxiety began to rise again with each new suitcase that wasn’t his guitar, but he could feel Geralt’s presence warm and constant in the back of his mind. It was stronger now. He’d not expected that. No one had told him that the bond would be stronger with less distance between them. They could already communicate perfectly well from across the world but now he could almost feel Geralt’s heartbeat in harmony with his own, he could feel each breath that Geralt took if he focussed on it. He could even smell the stale scent of coffee from the shop that Geralt was waiting in. 

It was almost too much, overwhelming. 

He could have had six more years of this if he hadn’t been a coward. 

He was so caught up in the new sensations of their soul bond that he almost missed his guitar case travelling along the belt. He squeaked and had to push passed a family that was blocking his way. “Sorry! I’m so sorry, umm, excuse me!”  he yanked the guitar from the belt and ran to the nearest bench. He unzipped the case quickly and inspected his precious instrument. 

There wasn’t even a scratch!

He laughed brightly and hugged the instrument to his chest. One thing down, one to go. Next stop… Geralt! 

He zipped up the case, flinging it onto his back along with his rucksack and then ran as fast as he could through the airport. It gained him a few strange looks but he was done. He’d had enough of waiting. He stumbled a few times as the case fell down his arm but he was persistent. He bustled through the last security check with nothing to declare and then he was free.

“Geralt!!” He yelled, scanning the sea of people for a shock of silver hair. 

He saw himself through Geralt’s eyes and turned on his heels until he spotted his soulmate gazing back at him with open arms. He was here. Geralt was here. He stopped frozen to the spot for a second whilst the world seemed to slow to a halt. 

Geralt.

In the flesh.

And he could hug him. 

“Oh fuck,” tears were already falling down his face, a waterfall of emotions. “Geralt.”

The only word he had left, echoing through the bond, and then he was running again. His bag and guitar case dropping to the floor just in front of Geralt as Jaskier leapt. His arms flung around Geralt’s neck and his legs wrapped around Geralt’s waist. Geralt’s hands supported his weight with ease as Jaskier buried his face in Geralt’s neck, one of Geralt’s hands threading into his hair. God, he even smelled divine. That just wasn’t fair. 

“I love you,” Geralt murmured in his ear. 

The first words he heard his soulmate say in person, and fuck. If he hadn’t already been crying then that would have pushed him over the edge. He was a complete mess but he’d never been happier. He was here, with Geralt. He sobbed into Geralt’s shoulder until his soulmate lowered him gently to the floor. His legs felt weak and Geralt had to keep his arm wrapped around Jaskier’s middle to stop him from falling to the floor. Fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away some of the tears. 

“Hey?”

Jaskier looked at Geralt through a sea of tears. “Hi,” he laughed weakly. “I love you.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s “I love you too, fuck… I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Jaskier laughed. “Holy fuck, I’m actually here, and you’re here, and the world hasn’t fallen apart. Oh bloody hell, stop fucking crying, Jask!” he snapped, pulling away from Geralt just enough so he could wipe his face. He smiled sheepishly and gazed at his soulmate through his eyelashes. If it weren’t for the bloody ocean on his face, then he would have tried to be seductive, but that ship had long sailed. “Can… can I kiss you?” 

Geralt’s ridiculously gorgeous and actually golden eyes softened. He nodded, hand still cupping Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier almost fainted on the spot. He hadn’t been expecting Geralt to agree but he was too weak not to ask. He couldn’t even close the gap to finally kiss his soulmate, too stunned that Geralt even wanted it. Luckily Geralt still had his wits about him. A rough calloused finger stroked Jaskier’s cheek and then they were kissing. 

It was magical. He felt everything, and more. Geralt’s lips on his, Geralt’s love in his heart and his own love weaving into the fabric of Geralt’s soul. It felt so strange, after all this time to actually be here. If the emotions weren’t quite so intense then he’d almost think he was dreaming. 

‘I love you’ one of them sighed happily as their lips moved together, breaths mingling, souls completely entangled. 

I love you, I miss you, I want you, I love you…. The thoughts never stopped as they clung to each other in the middle of a shitty airport terminal. 

It was the end of Jaskier’s life as he knew it, and the beginning of a new life with Geralt by his side.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Fred Weasley x Reader Smut- Part Three of Three

Summer couldn't have rolled round quick enough, with you and Freddie literally counting down the days until your little getaway in Greece. You ended up choosing a private villa for the pair of you to stay in rather than a hotel, wanting as much privacy as you could. You'd be lying if you said you wasn't hoping that this week would be THE week you and Fred finally went all the way. Spending the majority of your life at school definitely meant the chances of having any privacy was extremely minimal- the closest you ever got was feeling each other up in the corridor at night. That was short-lived since Snape rudely decided to walk by and interrupt you. Speaking of interruptions, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of suitcase wheels coming along the gravel by the Burrow.

"Ready, Princess?" George winked holding Fred's bag and offered his arm out to you.

"Nice try, George." You grinned, waving at Fred jogging behind him.

"Oi you sod I've been looking for that for ages." Fred shouted, taking his bag from his brother.

"Worth a shot, Greece sounded nice." George pouted, folding his arms like a child.

"Sorry Georgie, maybe next time?" You punched his shoulder lightly and hooked your arms with Fred's ready to be on your way.

"Maybe when I get myself a woman. Wouldn't want to be third wheeling on your shag-fest anyway." George grinned. You felt your cheeks burn a little and shot George the finger as you got into your car. "Ever the charmer, Y/N. Don't rush back from Greece too quickly." Molly came out of the Burrow to say her own goodbyes.

"Oh have fun you two! It's going to be so lovely just the two of you for a week, make the most of it..."

"Believe you me mother dearest, they'll make the most of every second." George teased.

"Oh.. OH." Molly began. "Last time your father and I had time away I found out I was pregnant with Ginny a few weeks later."

"MUM" George doubled over in laughter at Fred's expense.

"I'm just saying.."

"Right goodbye we're off!" Fred pushed you in the car and climbed in beside you, nodding to the driver to go.

"Well that wasn't-"

"Awkward in the slightest? Welcome to the family Princess." Fred finished. You smiled and decided to tease him over his words.

"I'm one of the family now then am I? Should I be expecting a proposal?" Fred's face reddened and he began to ramble.

"No obviously not. Well, not OBVIOUS. I'm sure I will ask you one day. Maybe? Would you want that?" He stuttered.

"One of my greatest achievements in this world is being able to make the one and only Fred Weasley blush and stumble over his words with so much ease." You smirked, reaching over to hold his hand in your smaller one.

"I honestly don't know how you do it, it's embarrassing. George rips the shit out of me for it."

"Embarrassing as it may be, you're really cute when you're flustered. Besides, we have a Georgeless week ahead of us so I can't promise I won't do it more often sunshine." You squeezed Fred's cheeks with your spare hand and kissed his pouted lips for emphasis. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you.

"Really landed myself an odd one didn't I?"

"You love me really."

"Yeah I guess you're alright." He teased, shooting you a wink. You grinned and rested your head on his shoulder for the last short part of the journey.

(I honestly have no idea how I could make a plane journey the slightest bit interesting so I'm skipping to the villa, sorry lmao)

The plane journey thankfully went smoothly and the pair of you soon found yourself walking through the front doors of the villa.

"Bloody hell." Fred looked around at the large holiday home in awe.

"Nice huh? I don't think I chose too badly.."

"Too badly? This place is amazing." You grabbed Fred's hand and started to walk through the building.

"Come on let's get changed I'm sweating so much in these clothes I fear I'll leave a puddle." You groaned, dragging him to the bedroom.

"Wow what a gorgeous mental image that created. How could I ever resist you now?" Fred placed his hand over his heart and followed your lead.

"You're lucky you're cute"

"So you've said."

"Fred Weasley put on your bloody swimming shorts and meet me by the pool in 5 minutes or I swear to all that is holy I will throw you in there in your clothes." You warned playfully. Fred grabbed his trunks from his bag and stood back in front of you.

"I like it when you get all dominant."

"Go!" You laughed, pushing him out of the bedroom door while you got into your own swimsuit. You couldn't help the childish giddiness that built up inside you at the thought of seeing Fred in just his swimwear. Even though you had spent the last few days at the burrow you didn't get any further than a short make-out session that was disturbed by George walking into the bedroom. In his defence it was his room too but you still felt disappointed. And the burrow was so cold despite it being the summer months that Fred was in more layers than you had ever seen him in so you'd be lying if you said you wasn't disappointed you still hadn't seen so much as Fred shirtless.

You walked your way round to the pool and looked to see Fred sitting on a sunbed with his eyes closed, his pale skin shining in the European sun. You took in his features from the distance, from his lightly toned stomach, to the array of freckles that covered his skin and finally the patch of ginger hair that trailed from his chest and created a thin line leading to the waistband of his shorts.

"You know perversion isn't okay even if you're a woman." Fred shouted, his eyes still shut. "I know I look like I've been chiselled by the gods but ogling is a vile thing to do to a person. I'm not an object." He teased. You walked closer to him and grinned.

"Is it still perversion if I'm looking at my boyfriend? You can hardly blame me, with you clearly being sculpted by the hand of god himself." Fred opened his eyes hearing your voice was closer to him and his mouth opened slightly as he looked at you and stood up.

"Speaking of being sculpted by the hand of god.." He trailed off, pulling you closer to him by your hand. You blushed and shied your head away. Fred turned your face back towards his and kissed you, his hand slowly moving to rest on the bare skin above your hip. "You're gorgeous love." He complimented.

"Who's ogling now?"

"Can you blame me?" He whispered, moving to kiss you again. You leaned in and stopped just as your lips were about to touch.

"I hope you can swim Weasley."

"What are yo-" You grabbed both of his hand and turned, pushing him in the pool. Unfortunately for you, growing up with so many brothers left Fred with impeccable reflexes and he managed to pull you with him, the pair of you landing with a huge splash. Once you reached the surface of the water you started to splash Fred, laughing and swimming away as fast as you could when he started to chase you. "Now that, Miss L/N, wasn't very nice now was it?" He grabbed you from behind and turned you round to be flush against his body. "Naughty girl." He breathed, moving your soaked hair out of your face as he stared into your eyes, his hands roaming your body.

"Sorry Freddie." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "How about we kiss and make up?" You suggested, pressing your foreheads together. Fred leaned forward until your lips touched, skilfully running his tongue along your bottom lip and lifting your legs to wrap round his waist under the water. You pulled away breathless and looked into Fred's eyes, noticing they were much darker than they usually are.

"I don't know Y/N, I'm still pretty mad. Want to go apologise elsewhere?" He moved his hands round to your arse and squeezed hard enough to make you gasp

"Our clothes are soaked.."

"I don't know about you darling but I wasn't planning on leaving them on." And with that you were hoisted out of the pool and had Fred's hands on you in seconds, lifting you back up and guiding you to the bedroom. He put you down when you stepped into the room, his mouth latching onto yours and his hands untying your bikini top and moving to pull it over your head before he stopped completely and looked at you, his face turning concerned for a moment. "You're okay with this right? I'm not.. going too fast? Because I can stop if you want me to." He spoke, softly putting his hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. You stepped back and took off the top yourself, throwing it across the room and putting your hands on his bare chest.

"Fred if you stop I may go insane. I've wanted you for years, I'm not going to stop it finally happening."

"Thank god for that.." He ran his fingers down your sides and pushed you onto the bed. Fred crawled over the top of you and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear. "Can't be ruining the bed now can we?" He winked, pulling them down your legs and throwing them behind you. You sat up and pulled at his swim shorts.

"Same goes for you Freddie." He grinned and kicked his shorts away, pushing you to the back of the bed and hovering over you.

"God you're beautiful." He breathed, looking from your face and then allowing his eyes to scan the rest of your body. You couldn't help but let your own gaze drop to Fred's hard cock that pressed against his stomach.

"And you're huge. Jesus Fred." He smirked and moved his face to the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking along your jawline while you writhed beneath him. Your hands roamed wherever you could reach of his body and you moaned obscenely loud as he kissed your sweet spot, sucking a dark purple mark on your skin. "Fred.." You moaned again, feeling him smile against your neck. His lips began to roam south as he made similar marks along your collarbone, your back arching to meet his mouth as he suddenly sucked your nipple into his mouth, massaging your other breast with his hand. He paid your other breast the same attention before kissing down your stomach and moving between your thighs. His teeth nipped at your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your core. "Freddie please.." You groaned, fisting your hands into the bedsheets.

"You need only ask Princess." Fred winked, darting out his tongue to slowly lick your aching clit. You moved your hips closer to his face, desperate for any relief and bit your knuckle to stop yourself moaning too loudly. "We're finally on our own in the middle of nowhere. Be as loud as you can sweetheart, let me hear you." His breath over you sent a shiver through your body. You didn't get a chance to respond before he began to aggressively lick and suck at your clit, your voice coming out in a guttural moan as your hands instinctively went to grab at his hair. His fingers moved from keeping your legs spread to begin circling your entrance. Suddenly he inserted a finger into you, curling it and pumping at a steady pace as your breath began to hitch in your throat.

"Fred- ah fuck." You moaned, tightening your fingers into his red locks. You threw your head backwards and closed your eyes as he inserted another finger into you, pumping mercilessly as his tongue gently licked at your clit.

"You're so gorgeous." Fred whispered, picking up his pace and bending his fingers to hit that one spot over and over again.

"Freddie please- I'm-ah I'm gonna-" Your voice came out strangled as your legs began to tremble and your stomach knotted.

"Cum for me then Princess." His voice was enough to tip you over the edge. Your vision turned white and you saw stars before you looked down and saw Fred grinning at you, his chin glistening. He crawled back up your body and moved your hair out of your face as you caught your breath back. You quickly pulled him towards you by the nape of his neck and kissed him. "Fancy carrying on or are you all spent for now?" Fred asked you sweetly, though the smirk on his face showed how proud he was for the effect he had over you. You leant up and pecked him on the lips as your hands raked down his chest to his hard cock.

"I think it's your turn sweetheart." You smirked, giving him a teasing squeeze before flipping the two of you over. You laid between Fred's thighs and licked him from base to tip, giving a slow suck to his throbbing head and tasting the pre-cum that had formed at the tip. His breath hitched in his throat and he quickly grabbed your shoulder to stop you.

"Y/N while the mere thought of your pretty mouth being wrapped about me sounds incredible I honestly don't think I'll be able to last for the main event." He admitted, pulling you back up towards him and groaning loudly as you started to grind your hips against him.

"'The main event'? What a romantic way to put it." You grinned.

"What would you rather? Vaginal interc-"

"No no. Main event was nicer." You laughed, letting him turn you back over again so he was hovering above you. He smiled and reconnected your lips, tracing his fingers to your hand and pulling it above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His other hand fell down to your hip as he raised it slightly, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Ready darling?" You could only nod back at him, far too eager for him to finally fill you in the way you've dreamed of for far too long. He pushed into you slowly, the pair of you moaning into each other's mouths until he filled you to the hilt. Fred was a hell of a lot larger than you anticipated and you had to take a moment to adjust to the size of him before he could even think about moving.

"Jesus Freddie you're so big." You moaned, clenching your walls around him. Between the surprise of your movements and your words replaying in your mind Fred's head shot into the crook of your neck as he bit onto your shoulder blade to compose himself, anything to distract him from his want to move. You wrapped your arms under his and gripped onto his back, moving your hips against his to let him know you were ready. Immediately Fred's hips started to move and you couldn't help but moan out his name with each thrust, pulling him by his hair to meet your lips as he picked up speed. His fingers dug into your thighs so hard you were convinced he left bruises as he pulled out of you halfway before slamming himself back into you. Your nails dug in and began to rake down his back, risen red marks forming a trail behind them. His hands moved to your hips and squeezed, his thrusts becoming slower but sharper as he began to hit that spot over and over again. His voice came out in grunts, heavy breathing sounding between each movement as he felt himself being pushed closer to the edge.

"I'm not- fuck- I won't last much longer love." He breathed.

"Me neither." You let out your words with a small squeak as his thumb reached over and began to rub circles on your already aching clit.

"Come on Princess. Cum with me." He groaned, his movements becoming sloppy as he clung on to his last bits of sanity. You gripped onto him tighter as pleasure shot through your body; your release hitting you like a ton of bricks as you felt him finish inside of you, filling you up completely while your name loudly fell from his lips. His movements slowed before he pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you beside him and tucking your form under his arm.

"That was-"

"Yeah-" You turned to face him, wiping his hair from his sweaty forehead and moving up to kiss his lips.

"I wish we didn't have to wait that long." You admitted. He smiled and squeezed you closer towards him.

"We're never waiting that long again. I'll have you in a bloody cupboard if I have to when we go back." He spoke, making you laugh beside him.

"As long as Snape doesn't come by again you can have me wherever you want Weasley." Suddenly the humidity of the Greek weather hit you and you found it even harder to breathe in the room. "I think we should go back out to the pool, it's too hot in here." Fred smirked and traced his hand down your bare body, the hand behind your shoulder grabbing your boob and giving it a teasing squeeze. You moaned and moved into his touch.

"I'll go back out to the pool with you... if your swimming suit stays discarded in that corner for the rest of the week." He bit your ear playfully and you gave in immediately. "Good girl." He praised, standing up and leading you back outside and into the pool. You swam over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his already hard cock pressed against your thigh.

"Someone's eager." You teased, rubbing your leg against his length. "Do you truly want me again already?"

"Darling if I could have you pressed up naked against me every second of the day I'd be in paradise." He lifted you by your ass and pressed his tip against your entrance, dipping in the tiniest amount before pulling away again. "Now.. let's see how big of a splash we can make."

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

[specialagentsergio]

all we can do is keep breathing || chapter two

summary: Spencer’s doing better, but recovery isn’t linear, and some scars run deeper than either of you knew.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: angst (eventual happy ending)

content warnings: swearing, drug abuse & addiction, substance use disorder, ptsd, descriptions of panic attacks/ptsd episodes, recollection of past bullying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, yelling/fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, body image issues

a/n: i was so taken aback by the response to chapter one--i didn’t think anyone would even read it tbh. thank you all and thanks for being patient with my lack of an upload schedule. i'm so sorry the word count is massive again. you get tummy appreciation, though, because 1) we all love spencer’s tummy, and 2) i personally gained weight when i was in residential treatment and it can be a bit of a mindfuck lol.

a/n 2: repeated disclaimer that i'm not a doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, etc., just a direct care staff, past rtc patient and trauma recovery enthusiast. the horse therapy is pretty much entirely based on my own personal experience from nearly a decade ago, so don’t expect it to be an accurate portrayal of equine-assisted psychotherapy.

word count: 7.3k

song: you will be found from dear evan hansen

fic masterlist || masterlist

He’s been looking forward to the start of equine therapy since he got a spot in the program. But instead of being excited the morning of, Spencer ends up crying for an hour straight.

The day started off fine. It wasn’t hard to get up with the horses to look forward to, and he was able to get an extra plate at breakfast, so he could keep the pancake syrup from touching the eggs and sausage. Art therapy was a few hours later. He’d started to actually enjoy the pottery project—the recreational therapist had brought him a box of disposable gloves to use so the feeling of drying clay on his hands was no longer a problem.

Everyone’s projects were coming out of the kiln today and the next step was painting them. He’d been planning out the design and colors he wanted to use since the project started and was excited to finally start applying it.

Then he dropped his item, it broke into pieces, and he burst into tears.

He’d fled the room on instinct alone and curled up in a corner of the hallway, pressing his knees to his forehead. He was upset about the pottery, and upset that he was so affected by it breaking. He felt stupid and silly for crying over it, which only made him cry harder.

He heard distant laughter and he clapped his hands over his ears. He was being laughed at again for being a crybaby. He didn’t want to be a crybaby. He wanted to stop crying, he just couldn’t. The goalpost was cold against the bare skin of his back, and his wrists were starting to burn from the ties.

I want to go home. Just let me go home, please, I’ll do anything. Let me go, let me go--

“Spencer, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Can you repeat after me? I’m safe here.”

Safe here. Safe here.

Art therapy was over by the time he came out of it.

He has lunch at his therapist’s office instead of with the group. Lara asks what his flashback had been to.

He picks at his food. “It happened a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Can you tell me how it felt instead?”

Spencer isn’t really hungry, but bites into his sandwich to stall for time. She doesn’t rush him. Eventually, he asks, “Do you know what alexithymia means?”

“No words for feelings,” she replies.

He nods. “That’s all.”

Lara opens one of her desk drawers and pulls out a composition notebook, which she then hands to him.

“What’s this for?”

“I want you to start trying to notice your feelings and sensations throughout the day. Make some kind of note, even if you don’t exactly have the words to describe it.”

He sighs. “Why?”

“Just noticing what you feel can help you develop emotional regulation,” she explains. She’s always been honest with him about the why of what she wants him to try and do. “It’s going to help you stop ignoring what’s going on inside you.”

I don’t want to do that.

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he blurts. “That either. I—god.” He quickly takes another bite of food before he can say more.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to like it,” Lara says with a small smile. “I’m sure the thought of confronting what you’ve been suppressing and avoiding is scary. But getting better requires you to do a lot of scary things.”

Spencer wants to protest. Being strapped to a chair in a shed and dosed against your will is scary. Your mother being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is scary. Being sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit is scary. Feeling things? That’s not scary.

Isn’t it?

He tries not to think on it too much.

Despite the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind, Spencer finds himself nodding off on the van ride to the horse ranch. His eyes unfocus, his blink rate slows… and then he jerks back awake at the sensation of his head falling forward.

A frustrated noise escapes the back of his throat. He’s sick of feeling tired all the time. He’s getting enough sleep in theory, but still finds himself drowsy at least once a day. It’s to the point that he’s regularly wearing his glasses instead of his contacts to keep his eyes from feeling quite so dry. He pushes them back up now as he tries to tune back in to his surroundings.

“… don’t get how seeing some horse is supposed to make me feel better.” That’s Aiden’s voice. He’s Spencer’s new roommate. He wasn’t happy when he found out he was getting a new one, having much preferred having the room to himself, but it’s been okay so far, mostly because they keep out of each other’s way. Aiden seems uninterested in making friends, and that suits Spencer just fine. Lara’s been encouraging him to talk to fellow patients instead of just the direct care staff, but he’s resisted it. The last time he befriended someone, they ended up--

Spencer’s fine with the two of them keeping to themselves.

Melanie, one of the staff accompanying them, is leaned over the back of the middle seat as she talks to Aiden. “Well, I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but I’ve seen this program help a lot of people in my time here,” she says. “Spencer?”

“What?”

“You’ve been reading a lot about horses, right?” At his nod, she continues, “What have you found out?”

“Equine-assisted psychotherapy lacks the rigorous scientific evidence to demonstrate if it provides benefits in mental health treatment. Horses have been used to aid in psychiatric treatment since the 1990’s, though,” he says. He intends to stop there, but can’t stop himself from continuing. “It doesn’t necessarily involve riding, but may include grooming, feeding, and ground exercises. The goal is to help the client in social, emotional, cognitive, and or behavioral ways.”

He can feel Aiden’s eyes on him and takes a breath before meeting them. He knows all too well that his infodumps aren’t always well received. He doesn’t want to be friends, but would prefer for his roommate to not view him with disdain or annoyance. But Aiden looks interested, and says as much--”that’s interesting.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t, and there’s silence between them for the remainder of the drive. It’s not uncomfortable, though.

When the van pulls into a parking spot and everyone starts to get out, Spencer begins to feel nervous. He’s read everything he could get his hands on, but as a relatively new therapy, there’s no standard program; it varies by facility, so he doesn’t know exactly what to expect. He’s been looking forward to this, but what if it turns out to be a bad fit for him? What if the people here don’t like him? What if the horses don’t like him?

He hangs at the back of their group of ten—six patients and two staff—as they’re led to a shaded area. They’re introduced to the program director and assistants, and are given an overview of what they’ll be doing over the next six weeks. They won’t be riding the horses, just doing groundwork (he’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed). Then he learns that intention of this specific program isn’t just for the horses to help the clients—the clients are to help the horses as well. The animals all have the gentle temperaments suited for therapy, but also have their own struggles. A lot of them were adopted out of poor situations.

They’re led to a circular corral next and spaced equidistantly around the edge. Spencer’s heart rate picks up as the horses are brought in—the animals will be picking their therapy partner, the director says. As they’re let off their leads a jolt of anxiety runs through his body, making him twitch slightly. This feels uncomfortably familiar to school P.E. when teams were picked. No one wanted him then. What’s gong to happen if none of the horses want him, either? He looks down at his shoes.

But just a few moments later, he hears his name, and looks up to see one of the horses approaching him. “Looks like you and Chance are our first pair,” the director is saying.

First?

Chance is almost entirely black, save for a spot of white between his eyes and above his nose. His size is a little intimidating, but his demeanor is gentle. One of the assistants comes up to Spencer and instructs him to hold out his hand so the horse can sniff it.

His hand trembles slightly as he lifts it. Warm breath hits his fingers as Chance sniffs at it. Then the horse presses his nose completely against his hand. The moistness would usually bother Spencer, but for some reason it doesn’t. Instead, a smile slowly spreads across his face. The assistant tells him he can pet Chance now. He runs his hand up and down the horse’s snout, and despite the slight coarseness of the hair, finds it soothing.

The horse shuffles closer when Spencer is given his lead to hold. A startled laugh escapes him when Chance presses his nose into his neck. He pats his head a few times, then takes a tiny step back. He’s thrilled that at least one of the horses likes him, but feels a little crowded by the large animal. To his surprise, Chance seems to understand, and takes a step back of his own.

He absently pats his horse as he watches the rest of the group pair up. He still can’t believe he was picked first.

The rest of their time with the horses is very simple. They’re taught how to lead them, and after practicing in the corral, they take the horses back to their paddocks. Spencer’s disappointed to say goodbye already, but understands the need to not overwhelm the horses or even themselves. “I’ll see you next week,” he finds himself whispering to Chance.

There’s ten minutes left in the session, and it’s spent with the director telling them more about each horses’ specific background. Chance was poorly treated by his previous owner, mostly kept locked up in a small barn and not properly cared for. He has many talents and abilities, the director says. He needs to learn that he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he was, and be told that he is brave.

Spencer rests his chin in his hand and stares out the window on the drive back to the treatment center. He knows from his reading that horses are emotionally intelligent creatures, but he’s still… well, amazed by how the horses all picked who was most similar to them out of the group instinctively.

He feels more understood by an animal he’s interacted with for twenty minutes than he has by a person for months.

Before bed that night, he chews on the stem of his pen cap, thinking over the events of his day. Slowly, in a manner that could almost be described as cautious, he picks up the empty composition book Lara gave him and opens it. His hand hovers over the blank page for a few moments, then he puts pen on paper and begins to write.

---

You made dinner reservations for his visit this Saturday. You’re getting ready for it when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Spencer calls from the living room.

You return to fixing your hair up. You’re not expecting anyone, so it’s probably just a package or a neighbor. But just a few moments later, you hear Spencer raise his voice.

“No! No, I don’t—don’t touch me, please.”

You’re only half dressed, but hurry out to the living room anyways. When you round the corner, you immediately see what the problem is: JJ has dropped by unexpectedly.

It’s not that Spencer doesn’t want to see his team. They just bring memories with them, and he had decided shortly after his birthday that he wasn’t ready to confront that yet.

He’s standing a little ways back from the door, staring at JJ while she looks back with hurt on her face. “Spence--” she starts before she sees you.

At Spencer’s side, you place a hand on his arm and he takes a step behind you. “JJ, what are you doing here?”

She struggles to keep her eyes off of him as she answers. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I just—Will and I made cookies with the boys today and we had a lot of extra, so I just wanted to drop some off for you. I—I didn’t know Spence was here. I didn’t mean to--”

You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, JJ. You couldn’t have known. You were just trying to do something nice.”

She nods, relieved at your understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I….” She blows out a breath, then holds out a plastic wrapped plate of cookies to you. You take it from her with a quiet thank you. Then she looks back to the man that’s essentially hiding behind you as best as he can, despite how tall he is. “Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t want me to touch you.”

There’s a tug on your clothing as he curls his fingers into the fabric on the small of your back. You tilt your head to look at him, but his gaze is on the floor. “You…” he glances up once, then looks back down. “You should ask next time,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” she replies, just as softly. “I will.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to hold back a smile. Spencer often struggles to advocate for his needs, especially with his friends and colleagues, in fear of being a burden or more of a nuisance than he thinks others already perceive him as. He did it a lot with you when you first started dating. It took a lot of time and reassurance that yes, you really did want to know his wants and needs, for him to open up. Telling JJ to ask before touching him may seem small from the outside, but it’s a big deal for him.

After a rather awkward silence, JJ speaks again. “Well, um, I should get going. Just… let us know if you need anything, okay, Spence? We—the team, we’re all here for you.”

“That’s rich,” Spencer mutters behind you and you freeze. You recognize that edge to his voice. It’s usually accompanied by sharp words and remarks that he’ll regret later.

Please please please tell me JJ didn’t hear that.

“I’m sorry?”

Fuck.

“I hate to rush you out, JJ, but we have dinner reservations, so--” you try to interject but Spencer speaks over you.

“I’m just saying, why should I believe you’re here for me when you weren’t last time?”

JJ’s eyebrows come together. “I… don’t understand, I’ve always--”

“No, you haven’t!” It’s like Spencer can’t get the words out fast enough, the way he keeps interrupting before either of you can finish a sentence. This is clearly something that’s been weighing on him. You just wish he was unloading it onto his therapist rather than poor JJ, his best friend outside of you, who’s just trying to be nice. “Ten years ago I was shooting up in police station bathrooms and Emily is the only one who said a damn thing.”

His grip on your clothes tightens, forcing you to take a step back. You move the plate of cookies to one hand and reach back with the other, circling it around his wrist. “Spencer.”

Realization dawns on JJ’s face and she crosses her arms. “Spence, I couldn’t--”

“You couldn’t.” The little laugh he lets out derisive. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You don’t know where all this is coming from or what he’s referring to, but JJ does, her expression hardening.

“You know what would have happened if the higher ups found out,” she says. “I was protecting your job. We all were.”

“You shouldn’t have!” he cries, emotions other than anger seeping into the words. “This damn job is one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me! I got anthrax poisoning, I still have issues with my knee from being shot. I nearly died from a shot in the neck, and let’s not forget, I was framed for murder by a psychopath I arrested, who then kidnapped my mother while I was in prison! Oh, and what else? Oh right, this job is the reason I’m a fucking addict in the first place!”

JJ’s clearly trying to hold back tears now, but one slips out and your heart aches for her. You close your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, then speak quietly but firmly. “Spencer, you need to leave the room.”

You can hear him breathing shakily behind you. “(Y/N)--”

“Now.” You squeeze his wrist and he finally lets go of your clothing. He takes a few steps away, stops, turns back and opens his mouth to say something, but at the look you give him, shuts it and continues on his way out.

A sniffle draws your attention back to JJ, who’s looking up at the ceiling and swiping at the tears sliding down. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t have come by without giving you a heads-up. I’ve just made things worse.”

“No, JJ, don’t be sorry. It--” There’s thumping noises from further back in the apartment so you step forward and shut the front door behind you. She has her arms wrapped around herself when you turn back.

“It’s not your fault,” you continue. “You were just trying to be nice. You’re a good friend to him. He’s just… everything is really raw for him right now, if that makes sense?”

She nods, wiping at her eyes again.

“It’s, uh, not an excuse, though,” you clarify. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. You didn’t do anything wrong. That was all him, so please don’t blame yourself.”

JJ is quiet for a bit, staring at the floor. Then she says, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” you agree quietly. Realizing you’re still holding the plate of cookies in one hand, you lift it slightly and add, “Thanks for these. And, um… I’m so sorry about that.”

She shakes her head and glances at the door. “Don’t be. Like you said, it was all him,” she murmurs.

You know she’s right, but you’re still barely able to stop yourself from apologizing again as she descends the stairs. You can’t help but feel like you should have done more, stopped him somehow, even though you don’t know how you could have. The way his behavior changed… it was like he wanted to get it all out, and when Spencer Reid wants to say something, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stop.

The apartment isn’t quiet when you walk back in. There’s the scraping and clatter of a desk drawer, followed by frantic footsteps and the thud of books falling off the shelves. You know what he’s doing, and you know he won’t find anything, so you just lock the front door and continue on to the kitchen to put the cookies away.

You lean on the counter and cover your face with your hands. It doesn’t matter if you mess up your hair or face, or anything, really, because you’re not making it to dinner anymore.

You stay like that for a while, eyes closed, trying to think of a place to even start with Spencer after all of that. When the sounds of him tearing through the apartment stop, you lift you head back up and promptly jump—he’s staring at you from the nearest doorway.

“Jesus, Spencer--”

“Where’s my stuff?” he asks, and the seriousness in his tone of voice makes your anxiety spike. You know exactly what he means by stuff.

“It’s gone. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Yeah, but it’s…” he trails off and his expression puzzles you. It almost looks like he’s confused. “It’s all gone.”

Ah. “Yeah, well, I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re very much the opposite when you’re not sober,” you reply. “Finding your hiding spots wasn’t hard.”

He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. “I don’t like it when you move my things,” he says quietly.

“I don’t like it when you use,” you counter.

He visibly flinches, then his hand tightens on the door frame. “I’m not going to—to take it, I just want to hold it. Where’s my stuff?” he repeats.

“Holding it, right,” you sigh.

“It’s comforting,” he argues.

“Even if I believed that, it wouldn’t matter, Spencer. I threw it all out. There’s none here.”

The humming noise he makes is angry, and he rocks back and forth on his feet in an agitated manner. “You shouldn’t… I don’t….”

I don’t have the energy for this. It’s a thought you feel terrible about as soon as you have it, but it’s the truth. Lara had cautioned you before his first visit that he was going to be hypersensitive to disappointment and frustration until he learned how to cope with the feelings he’d been using the Dilaudid to block out. Unfortunately, the information, while useful, didn’t always make his emotional extremes easier to deal with.

You run a hand down your face. “Spencer…” you start. You’re not sure what to continue with, but you don’t have to—for whatever reason, that sets him off.

He tears his eyes away from the floor to glare at you. “Don’t—don’t touch my things ever again!” Then he turns and all but runs to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You suck in a breath and drop your head to the counter. The marble is cool and you thump your forehead against it gently a few times, focusing on breathing in and out slowly to calm down. When you’re ready, you walk as quietly as you can to the bedroom door and press your ear against it to hear the unmistakable sound of Spencer sobbing into his pillow.

Part of you wants to go in and comfort him, but you suspect that you’d just make it worse right now since some of his frustration is directed at you. And truth be told, you’re frustrated with him, too. So you retreat to the living room, flopping down on the couch and pulling out your phone to call the restaurant to cancel your reservations. Doing so is more upsetting than you expected; a few tears of your own slide down your face after you hang up. Before you know it, you’re calling Tara.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks you.

“I…” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Spencer’s… we’re having a bad day. If you’re not busy, can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course,” is her gentle reply, and you pull yourself to your feet, moving to the farthest point away from the bedroom in the apartment so Spencer won’t overhear.

“He got angry when you told him you got rid of everything?” she guesses when you reach that part.

“Yeah. He told me that he doesn’t like it when I move his things. I already knew that; that’s why everything else is where he left it. I think he was mostly just caught off guard that I knew all his hiding places.”

“If he’s having a trauma response to seeing JJ, he’s not going to be thinking clearly, either,” Tara points out. “I wasn’t there, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like she was some sort of trigger for him.”

“That’s more than a fair assessment. It’s just… confusing,” you say. “He wasn’t like this with her when he first got home from prison. He actually spent a lot of time at JJ’s house before his relapse. He’d go over and hold Michael when he couldn’t sleep. Why is seeing his best friend suddenly such a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to make sense to us. It only has to make sense to the traumatized part of the brain,” she explains. “He may not even know why himself.”

“Hmm.” You ponder it for a moment. “I think I’d find that interesting if I wasn’t living it.”

Tara laughs out loud at that. “Yeah, I’ve found that to be rather commonplace sentiment in the field of psychology.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling calmer. “Thanks for listening,” you say. “I feel better now.”

“Anytime, (Y/N).”

You exchange goodbyes, making plans to catch up properly over lunch next week. You hang up, then tiptoe back to the bedroom door. It’s quiet now; Spencer seems to have stopped crying. You knock softly. “Honey? Can I come in?”

When he doesn’t respond, you try the door handle. It’s unlocked, which is a good sign—he’s upset, but not upset enough to completely shut you out. You open the door just enough to look in.

Spencer’s on the bed as expected, huddled under his weighted blanket. His back is to the door and you see his shoulders shuddering in the little breaths that follow him crying. In your experience, he usually seeks out comfort before this stage, often having the breakdown itself in your arms or stumbling into them halfway through. This is a bit of uncharted territory. You know that after outbursts of negative emotions, he tends to need reassurance and touch from someone to help him decompress and feel better. You just don’t know if that’s going to hold true for this kind of reaction. A trauma response, Tara called it. You hope it will, because you don’t know what else to do.

“I’m going to come in now,” you tell him before taking a step inside. You leave the door open behind you so he won’t feel trapped, then slowly approach him, looking out for signs that he doesn’t want you near—tensing muscles, slight rocking, shaking his head—but he stays still.

Once you sit down on the edge of the bed you can see his face. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red and raw from wiping away tears. A few are still slipping out, sliding sideways down his face and dropping onto the wet patch on his pillowcase as he stares blankly at the wall across the room.

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm as lightly as you can. He takes in a deep breath, but does nothing to suggest that he wants you to remove it. After a few moments to ensure that he’s okay with touch, you start running your hand up and down his back. He whimpers a little in response, closing his eyes and titling back into your touch.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

You don’t get a straightforward answer. He chews on his bottom lip for a bit before speaking in a scratchy voice. “Can you…?” he mumbles, lifting his head up slightly from the pillow, then dropping it back down. You don’t know what he’s asking for until you see some of his fingers poking out from under the blanket and the stroking motion they’re making.

You maneuver across the mattress to sit against the headboard, jostling him as little as you can, and he shifts to place his head in your lap. When you start carding your fingers through his hair, his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a little sigh.

“What’s going on?” you ask once the tension has faded and his body has settled fully into the mattress. He just shrugs and you press your lips together to hold back a sigh. You’re familiar with him going nonverbal and you know that he can’t help it, but it’s discouraging. One of the main things he’s been working on is being more open about his emotions. It’s been a welcome change to not have to pry things out of him. But he seems to have gone right back to old habits tonight and it’s… well, it’s disappointing.

The silence carries on for a long time as you continue to run your hands through his hair. He’s so still and relaxed that you think he may have fallen asleep until he takes in a deep, shuddering breath and clears his throat. “I… I want to go back,” he whispers.

“Back whe--” you start, then your heart drops as you realize what he means. “Oh.”

Your hands fall to your lap as he sits up and clambers out of bed, muttering, “gonna get changed.” He shuts the bathroom door behind him—for whatever reason, he’s not always comfortable with you seeing him changing or in the shower anymore—and you sit still for a few moments, processing what he just said. After over a month of listening to him express his desire to come home—begging you, even, in the beginning—you were unprepared to hear the opposite.

You shake your head slightly to try and clear it, then follow his lead, leaving the bed and changing out of your fancy clothes, trying not to think about how much you had been looking forward to wearing them to the restaurant.

Spencer remains quiet for the drive back to his treatment center, staring out the passenger side window, legs pulled into his chest. He mumbles a quick “bye” to you when you check him back in—no hug or kiss on the cheek like you’ve grown accustomed to. Instead he turns right back to the nurse and staff member running the process and asks, “Is Matt working tonight? I need to talk to him.”

At least he wants to talk to someone, you tell yourself as you leave, trying to soothe the sting caused by the fact that the someone isn’t you.

---

The next time you see him is six days later, on Friday evening. You’ve only talked once since Saturday, over the phone on Wednesday night, and it wasn’t a long call. He was upset about the horse therapy appointment being canceled that afternoon because of the weather—it had rained hard all day—and didn’t say much else. He ended the call before the ten minute mark, saying that he was tired and wanted to go lie down.

He also didn’t request a visit for the weekend—he either didn’t think his treatment team would approve it or he just didn’t want one. So you’re visiting him at the center today. You’ve brought dinner with you—you cooked one of his favorites yourself—but before you eat, you’re having an appointment with him and his therapist.

Spencer glances up only briefly when you enter the office, quickly looking back down. One of his knees is bouncing.

You sit down on the other side of the couch, looking between him and Lara in the chair across from you. “So, um, what’s going on?” you ask.

Spencer looks to Lara and she gives him an encouraging nod. He takes in a deep breath before speaking. “I… I wanted to talk to you about what ha—happened last week,” he says quietly, keeping his gaze on his lap.

You don’t know why exactly he wants to do it here, with his therapist, but wanting to talk about it at all is a good sign.. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“Right, um. Seeing… seeing JJ, it--” he stops abruptly, and his hands tremble slightly as he runs them down his thighs. “Sorry, doing… doing this is making me really anxious.”

“Take your time,” Lara says and you nod in agreement.

“Okay.” He runs his hands through his hair a few times before continuing. “Se—seeing her brought up emotions and, and memories I wasn’t ready to, um, confront. It… it really tri—triggered me.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” you say quietly.

Spencer grimaces at the words. He lifts his hand, puts it back down, then lifts it again and rubs at one of his eyes. “I…” he starts, then fixes his gaze on the floor and goes silent.

“(Y/N).” You tear your eyes from him and look at Lara. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Spencer about Saturday? Maybe what it was like for you?”

“Oh. Um.” You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. You’ve worried about how what you say could effect him since his relapse—one of your biggest fears is saying something that would drive him to use. But it’s stressful to keep up with, and with his therapist is probably the best place to start ridding yourself of your new habit of… well, of walking on eggshells around him.

“I think it would be good for him to know,” Lara says.

“Alright.” You lace your fingers together in your lap. “I guess it was just… startling to me. JJ’s your best friend and you’ve never acted that way to her. Or anyone, really, other than your father.”

Spencer stays silent, but flinches at the mention of his dad.

“Do you have anything to say to that?” Lara prompts. He shakes his head, so she looks back to you. “How did seeing Spencer like that make you feel?”

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly; you’re a little scared to say, not wanting to make him feel worse. “It was… distressing. Especially when he got mad at me for getting rid of his Dilaudid. I know he doesn’t like having his things touched without permission but I don’t think it was reasonable to expect that I wouldn’t have done that.”

Lara nods. “That makes sense. But our feelings aren’t always logical.”

“Yeah, I understand. I guess I just wish he would have told me what was wrong instead of being silent--”

Spencer finally speaks up then, in protest. “I couldn’t help it!”

“I—I know that,” you argue back. “I just—I’m just telling you how I felt.”

He looks away, folding his arms and sinking further into the couch.

“Spencer,” Lara says gently. “You wanted to know how (Y/N) felt, remember? And we talked about how you were probably going to hear things you wouldn’t like.”

You blink, taken aback that this was his idea. And with that comes the realization of just how long it’s been since he’s asked how you’re feeling. Thinking back, you realize that the last time you had a conversation that wasn’t only focused on his feelings and well-being was the day you found him asleep and tied to his mother. This… it’s Spencer before prison.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by him sighing and muttering, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Alright. Anything else?” Lara asks you.

There’s a lot else, you’re discovering, but you’re not sure you can unpack it all right now. “Maybe…” you say. “Maybe he could just tell me what I can do to help when he’s… triggered?”

“I don’t know,” he says dully, and when he catches the small frown on your face, insists, “I don’t.”

“Yet,” Lara adds.

He sighs again. “Yet,” he repeats.

“I know it’s frustrating,” she says. “Your solution to these kinds of feelings before was denial or using. A solution, not just a problem,” she emphasizes. “I want you both to try and think of it like that, and get comfortable with the fact that it’s going to take awhile to overcome those habits.”

A solution, not a problem. It’s… weird to think of his addiction that way, but you can try, so you give her a nod.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer mumbles. But behind the defensive body language, he just seems tired.

He seems to relax a little when the meeting wraps up and it’s only the two of you in one of the rooms used for visits. He remains quiet, but when you place the plate of food you dish him across the table from yours, he slides it back and sits in the chair beside you. “Sorry,” he whispers as soon as you take a bite of food.

“For what?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.

“For yelling at you on Saturday,” he says quietly. “I was upset but I shouldn’t have yelled.”

His leg is bouncing under the table; you put your hand on his knee to still it. “Apology accepted,” you say softly.

He shakes his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I was awful to you on Saturday.”

You frown at his skewed interpretation of events. “Spencer, you really weren’t. You yelled at me, yes, but other than that, you were fine.” And you’ve said much worse when you’ve been high.

“I ruined dinner. And don’t say it’s not a big deal,” he adds before you can speak. “You mentioned it every time we spoke in the week leading up to it. You were really excited about it, and I ruined it.”

Spencer’s read you like a book—that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, I was really looking forward to it,” you admit. “And it sucked to have to cancel the reservations. But there will be other dinners, and it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“But what if I did?” His voice is so quiet that you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean…” he rocks slightly in his seat, which you immediately recognize as one of his self-soothing behaviors. You move your hand from his knee to his hair, lightly running your fingers through the curls covering the nape of his neck to try and help. His head tilts forward a little at your touch and after a brief silence, he continues. “I just mean that self-sabotage wouldn’t exactly be something new for me.”

“Oh.” You take your time considering it; he won’t believe you if you give in to your knee-jerk reaction to protest the negative feelings he harbors towards himself. But he grows agitated at your silence, rocking a bit harder and rubbing at his eye. You tug his hair lightly without really thinking about it in response.

“I’m just thinking,” you assure. “You deserve an honest, thought-out answer.”

After taking a deep breath, he nods. “Okay. I understand. Maybe you could just, uh… to help c--comfort…” He swallows and his voice drops back to a whisper. “Could you do that again?”

“Do what?”

“Um, pull… pull my hair. You did that a few moments ago. Please?”

You almost want to tease him—a year ago, you would have. But he’s been so timid and unsure when asking for any intimate touch other than cuddling since he got back from prison. You don’t want to discourage him from asking any more than he seems to be discouraging himself.

“Of course, baby,” you answer softly, and do just that. He closes his eyes and drops his head onto your shoulder. “As far as the self-sabotaging goes, you’re… not good at lying to me,” you muse. “And after six years with you, I feel like I’m pretty familiar with all the ways Spencer Reid self-sabotages. This never even crossed my mind until you brought it up, so I don’t see that as being what happened.”

You can’t tell if he believes you. A neutral “okay” is all you get from him, but at least he’s not outright disagreeing.

You gently pull his hair a few more times. “You should eat before it gets cold and we have to heat it up again.”

He takes the suggestion, picking his fork up, but you’ve never seen him less enthused about eating one of his favorite foods. He’s only cleared half of his plate when you’re done with all of yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but sigh at the habitual response, and consider your next words carefully. “Spencer, I don’t mean to be pushy, but you told me you were working on not dismissing people’s concern for you when they express it.”

“I am,” he mutters, but doesn’t say anything else, just continues to push his food around his plate aimlessly.

“Well, is something wrong with the food?” you ask. “Did I get the texture wrong, or--”

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not the food. The food’s great. It’s… it’s me that’s the problem.”

Your eyebrows come together. “I don’t understand.”

“I…” He starts to blush. “I’m not eating it all because I think I need to lose some weight.”

“Don’t you dare,” you say immediately without thinking. He makes a startled noise at the same time you clap your hand over your mouth. You definitely don’t want him to lose weight, you just hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

On the day he came home and agreed to treatment, you’d seen just how underweight he’d become as you helped him unbutton his shirt. The stark outline of his ribs against his skin had been scary, and you had no desire to see that again. It was a relief when he started to gain back what he’d lost in prison and afterwards. And you were happy to see him continue to put on even more than that.

You clear your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. You were just so skinny when you got here. You look good like this.”

“I’ve never weighed this much before,” he says, and the distress in his tone makes you think that this is a fact that has been bothering him for a while. “Some of my clothes are getting too tight.”

“We can buy you new clothes.”

“But we don’t know how much longer the insurance will cover my stay here. Residential treatment is expensive. We don’t need to be spending extra money on clothes when I could just lose the weight instead and not need them.”

“Hey.” You put your hand on his cheek. “I don’t want you to worry about money. The insurance is covering it for now. If they stop, that’s a problem to deal with when we get there. Just focus on getting better.”

He looks away from you, down to his lap. “I should still lose some weight,” he says eventually.

“Have you medical staff told you that?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admits with a sigh.

“Then you’re not allowed to worry about it,” you say firmly. “Finish your dinner.”

Spencer hesitates, but picks his fork back up. The corners of his mouth turn up just slightly when he starts eating again, telling you that despite his fretting, he’s happy not to stop himself from eating as much as he wants.

He seems to be in a much better mood at the end of the evening than he was when you arrived, though a bit more subdued and quieter than normal. He also appears to be very tired. It’s only 7:30 but he keeps yawning. He denies dozing off with his head on your shoulder while you were talking after dinner, but you’re sure he did.

During your parting hug, he nestles his face into your neck just like he always does when you’re sleeping in bed together. “Try and get some good sleep tonight,” you encourage, smoothing your hands down his back. “And Spencer?”

He pulls back to look at you and you settle your hands lightly on his waist. “I meant it, you know.” You squeeze slightly. “When I said you look good like this.”

It takes him a few moments to catch onto what you’re implying; when he does, his eyebrows shoot up and his breath catches. “Oh. O—okay. I’ll, um…” he glances down shyly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better.” You look over your shoulder as you leave, and the small smile he’s wearing prompts one of your own.

--------------- 

tell me what you thought here!

i'd like to put it out there that i don’t hate jj and i really hope it didn’t come across like that. i hadn’t even planned that scene; it just wrote itself. i promise it’ll be resolved before the end of this fic.

another shoutout to the book The Body Keeps the Score for helping immensely with the planning and writing of this. i literally have pages of notes from it. 

you can also find irl pictures of spencer’s therapy horse here.

all we can do taglist: @thatsonezesty13 , @jhillio , @elitereid

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor

[haequarius]

prince

pairing: jeno x fem reader

genre: smut, slight angst

word count: 2.6k

warnings: soft dom!jeno, fingering (with a ring), corruption kink, mouth fucking, finger sucking, tearing, praising, swearing, protected sex

summary: prince jeno is the perfection itself; he’s cold and attractive, he seems a god. he’s dangerous and you know that, but he’s addicting.

notes: i was inspired by jeno’s resonance pt 2 teaser pic, his vibe there is immaculate; also this has a lot of plot, I’m warning you :D btw let me know if u like this/if it’s worth it to write a part 2^^ 

-

Jeno climbs on the bed on top of you, looking dangerously at your naked body. The red silk material wrapped around his thigh softly rubs your skin as he makes himself space between your legs. 

he smirks watching you eagerly, his heavy breath is the only sign he’s already broken at the sight of you waiting for him to take you. his confidence, his strength, the way he acts like he’s always in control, always perfect, are the things that make you weak for him. 

you don’t know if his personality is really like this or if it’s because of his role; after all, he’s gonna be king someday. his image has to be perfect, impeccable, and he knows that damn well. 

his presence is stunning and intimidating, his gaze is always scanning everyone, just like god judges souls. His eyes are bullets in your heart, and you’re sure that every person who gets to be near him feels the same. However, not everyone close to him gets to fuck him. 

He wraps his hand around your neck tenderly, then he caresses down your chest and massages your breast. He makes sure to rub your nipple with his ring, making you shiver at the sensation of the cold material. Now his grin is even wider; even if you try to hold yourself back, he’s aware of the effect his every move has on you. You’re literally down for him, for everything he wants. 

His hand travels on your body, you feel him everywhere. His touch is intoxicating. 

He rubs his hand on your thigh, up and down, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He lowers his head to leave soft kisses on your jaw.  

“There’s no way you can hide how you desire me baby, you know that” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, “but the fact that you think you can, makes you so cute” he attaches his lips under your lobe, sucking hard on your skin. he lets go and licks where he sucked, and then sucks again until you let out a moan. “I wonder what I’ve done to deserve a pretty girl like you who waits for me all naked until i come back. you’re so good to me” 

you wonder that as well. before jeno, you didn’t even know what sex was. you’ve always touched yourself, from time to time, but you had never fucked or had anything like that with anyone. you’ve always thought about sex but never found someone to experiment it with, until you met jeno. 

the first time you saw him was at a royal party. you were beside the princess you work for, as always, staying behind her and talking only when she needed you. that night, as you scanned the hall to see who your princess was going to meet, you saw him. and as if he knew, his eyes were already on you, and you weren’t able to think about anything else from that moment on. 

he was like fire to you, so dangerously attractive. his gaze so deep and poisoning, so evil it makes you shiver at the only thought of it. 

you tried to avoid him, of course. he looked exactly like the kind of boy who makes you fall in love with him, plays with you until your completely broken and then leaves as if nothing happened. but from that night on, you started to see him everywhere. physically and mentally. you touched yourself, thinking of him. you thought you were going crazy and tried to act chill, even in front of him. 

then he tried to talk to you.

the way he speaks is mesmerizing; he has a soft deep voice that is so charming, the way he talks is so captivating and he’s incredibly smart. 

Judging from the way he looked at you, it was obvious he wanted your body. 

even though you were perfectly aware of being just one of his many preys, you accepted. 

as he leaned his hands on you the first time, you were completely his. 

“I can’t believe no one touched you like this before”, his hand is now on your core, caressing it slightly. you can’t stop yourself from watching down.  

He smirks against your skin, starting to rub your clit with his ringed finger. “you know”, he sucks on your lobe, “that’s the ring that’s gonna make me king, pretty girl. what would people think if they knew I fucked you with that, uh?”

you moan at his words, the pace he’s rubbing your clit faster and faster. he drags his index inside you and presses your clit with his thumb, fucking you impossibly slowly. his finger goes in and out your hole, making you whimper every time the ring slides inside of you.  

You grab his wrist with both your hands. “jeno, faster, please” you say breathless.

he grins impossibly widely. “or what, my baby?”

you’re almost crying. “or don’t move at all, please, this is painful” 

“oh baby” he fakes disappointment, frowning and pouting. he slides his finger out and tries to back off, but you stop him, grabbing his arm with urgency.

“no, no, don’t leave me, please” 

he’s enjoying this so fucking much. “why don’t you touch yourself as you want, my pretty? I’m gonna go and you get to please yourself as you want, mh?”

“no, please”, you tighten your grip around his arm, watching him with teary eyes, begging. “I’ll be good, I promise”. 

you know he’s really gonna do it, if you misbehave. It happened before and it was awful; him leaving you messed up after overstimulating you, alone in his room. 

when you least expect it, he slides his finger roughly inside of you. you moan loudly, arching your back as he presses his body on yours while fucking you, his thumb back on your clit. your body slightly moves up and down the mattress, and your hard nipples rub harshly against the metal of the royal brooches on jeno’s jacket. 

“you’re over the edge, and it’s not even because of my cock, you’re so fucking cute”.  

He adds another finger and speeds up his pace, the sloppy sound of his fingers covered in your wetness rubbing against your skin makes your walls clench.  

“you’re so tight, how’s your tight pussy gonna take my cock?” 

you’re not even thinking straight. he’s pumping his fingers so hard into you, you have to grip his hair and hold on his back, to keep yourself grounded. you moan and scream his name in non-coherent sentences as your orgasm hits you, a multitude of bright colors shines behind your closed eyelids as your reach your high. 

your breath is heavy, and as you open your eyes and start to focus on reality, you find jeno’s eyes on you. you expected to see him with an amused smirk on his lips watching his favorite show, but there’s no trace of amusement in his expression. his eyes are dark, darker than ever, his expression serious, dangerous. the last time he looked at you like this, you couldn’t walk for the next two days. 

he finally slides his fingers out of you, completely coated in your arousal. his piercing eyes are deeply into yours as he brings his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices as if it was the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. when his fingers are clean, he pushes them inside of your core again, coating them with your arousal til his knuckles. he brings them back into his mouth, licking them eagerly. his eyes never leave yours and you grasp for air at the sight, pressing your thighs together. 

he smiles and takes his fingers out of his mouth, touching your lips. you open your mouth and wrap your tongue around his long, slim fingers, licking them until he presses them down your throat, making you tear. you feel his cold ring pressing on your tongue, and you moan. 

“can you taste yourself?” he’s sitting on his knees, watching you from high, “of course not, I couldn’t let off a single drop, it was so sweet”

you grab onto his palm as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, a little river of saliva running down your neck. you watch his dark gaze, stoic and apparently cold. as you lower your eyes down to his crotch you feel your pussy clench. his cock is so hard, aching in his tight silk red pants. 

you moan again, not able to stop yourself. 

jeno chuckles fondly and pulls out his fingers from your mouth, pouting. he climbs off the bed with still that grin on his face. he’s playing, like he always does. he wants to tease you and leave you over the edge, he wants to have fun.

he stands in front of the bed, hands behind his back. his strong figure is impeccable as always: his tonic legs in those silk pants, his muscled torso covered by a white shirt and a black jacket covered in royal brooches; one for his family, one which indicates his dynasty, one which is the prince’s sign and so on. a lot of complicated royal shit. 

Such elegant signs on a man who watches your weak, naked figure on his bed, waiting for him to move. or speak. or even breathe. 

“sit on your knees” he orders, slightly lifting his chin to watch you from behind his eyelids. 

you do as he told you, obedient like a puppy to his owner. 

he chuckles, letting his head fall a little. “no, baby. you don’t have to face me. turn around”

you gulp. you help yourself leaning your palms on the mattress to turn, then kneel and sit. you rub your palms on your thighs. your heart pounds furiously on you chest and your hands tremble. it’s adrenaline, and you love this so fucking much. 

You hear him taking his clothes off and the sound of the fabric slithering on his skin. you imagine his beautiful naked body exposed. jeno rarely lets you touch him as you want. when he lets you it’s because you need to, or because he orders you to. the occasion you get to touch him more is usually when you ride him; you can lean on his chest, hold him, suck on his nipples, kiss his neck. that’s why that’s the type of sex you like the most, and he knows that. of course he knows.

you hear him opening a drawer, taking a condom and sliding it on his dick in a minute. you feel his weight pressing on the mattress as he reaches for your body. the first thing that touches you it’s his hard cock, pressing on the bottom of your back. you gasp feeling the tension building at the base of your stomach. 

he comes closer, pressing his length between his abdomen and your lower back. he caresses your arm, up and down, and rubs the tip of his nose on the crook of your neck. 

he wraps his strong arms around your body and holds you tight, making your back lean on him. when your back touches his warm torso you automatically lean your head on his shoulder, sighing heavily. he caresses your breast and down your stomach, making you tremble under his touch. he touches your core with two fingers. “you’re wet again, for me. such a cute baby” 

he kisses your shoulder and you pant already, wishing his cock inside of you. feeling his aching length pushed against you is torture. 

“I want to fuck you until I break you, until I bring you over the edge and you can only scream my name, until you can’t think straight, baby girl. and i want you to think of that every time you touch yourself”

you think you already do that. “jeno” you whisper softly, your impatient body moves slightly making jeno’s cock rub against your back.  

he lets out a growl. “stay still”

you nod and make a sound that is something between pleasure and agreement. when jeno touches you, it’s impossible to think straight. just the thought of his hands on you makes your brain malfunction. having your body completely laying on his, and his hands not letting a single inch of your skin not touched, is the most lustful thing you can think of.  

he holds you tighter and lifts you with him, both of you now standing on your knees. jeno presses his palm on your lower back to make it arch. he rubs the tip of his cock on your entrance and coats it with your arousal; the sound of his heavy breath is mixing with yours, both your hot bodies clinging. he taps your mouth with his finger, and before you frown and ask him why, he buries his cock inside you with a sharp move that makes you scream and catches your breath.

he fucks you just like he told he would: rough, with no mercy, like he was possessed; every thrust deep and harsh into you, until his balls are pressed against you. he fucks you hard and holds your body still, hugging tightly your torso against him. You lay on him, your eyes rolled back while you’re completely drowning in pleasure. It goes like this for a while, jeno so overwhelmed he can only say your name and let out deep growls from the back of his throat, breathlessly thrusting into you with all of his strength. It’s a matter o minutes before you leave your head on his shoulder, completely gone. Your pussy continuously clenches around his cock and Jeno starts moaning, incapable of holding it. He moans, and swears, and says your name, and you cum again, reaching one of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.  

“fuck, fuck. fuck, i’m losing it” he grunts, and with a few slow and sharp thrusts into you he cums, releasing himself.  

He pants leaning his sweaty forehead on your shoulder.  

You both stay like this, catching your breaths; you still hold onto his forearms wrapped around you, his is cock softening inside you. he rubs his forehead on your shoulder and slips out of you. as he backs off, you suddenly feel cold, and your still shaking body almost falls flat on the mattress.  

Your eyelids feel heavy but you don’t want to close your eyes; you watch him throw the condom in the trash and run a hand between his slightly sweat brown hair. he catches your gaze, like he always does.  

“you can sleep if you want, pretty” he says while grabbing his clothes from the floor.  

you lay on the mattress leaning your head on your arm, exhausted. You shake your head. “where are you going?”

he looks up at you for a moment while jumping into a new pair of expensive silk pants he just grabbed from his huge wardrobe. “to a boring place with boring people” he grins, “I needed something to think about, tonight”

you slightly smile. “I think you have it”

in a few minutes the usually god like jeno is back. His perfect, stoic and heavenly presence, his hair not messy anymore, his dark gaze focused on his duty. And you already miss him, you miss the jeno who loses control while drowning in your body, the jeno who looks at you full of lust and calls you baby.  

but he’s not there anymore. he looks at you briefly before leaving. “i’ll call you” he says, and closes the door behind him.  

You’re left there, caressing the white sheets where you get to have him, imagining to kiss him, to hug him, to have him for a little more time with you and you feel so, damn pathetic. You knew that’s how this story was gonna end up. you knew that.