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#i think . the fact that i had already largely moved from being completely fixated to his content just being a more passive interest
strandedcrow · 2 years
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crow the fact that the only time you've posted about dream in the past months was in response to the Kissed a Variety of Men tweet is iconic so I am so glad you're still here (it just made me very happy when I saw that lol)
AKFKSKGK pls it was just rlly profound.. had a rlly thought provoking effect on me.. he knows what he’s abt FR !!
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ninaswritingstuff · 27 days
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One reason I haven't updated shifting priorities in well over a year is that I've been fixated on an AU of my AU in which Bernard is thrown into the mix.
Like, Tim has been so fixated on trying to clone Kon that he has pretty much completely ignored his body. That cloning tube and Kon's DNA are pretty much the only things he cares about. And he's tried and failed 99 times. He's running out of Kon's DNA, nothing has worked, so he gets an extra boost of desperation.
He uses his own DNA as a stabilizing agent.
So, fun thing about cloning is that it requires a donor egg. The genetic material of the egg itself is removed and replaced with the complete DNA of whatever you're trying to clone (don't quote me on this, this is my recollection/understanding of how they made Dolly).
Tim, who in this AU has the parts that would produce a human egg (trans!Tim or AOB, dealer's choice for the purposes of this run-down), decides he's going to cut out the middle man and use his own.
Only to find out that he's pregnant. It doesn't really click in his head until he's gotten his egg and already started the 100th attempt (forgetting to remove his DNA from the egg before adding in Kon's), so when it finally hits him, he's staring at a cloning tube with a (finally) viable embryo.
So he goes out and gets himself a pregnancy test, and this is where he crosses paths with Bernard. Bernard just kind of stumbles across him in the local CVS, and at first thinks he could try to reconnect and made shoot his shot, only to realize exactly where he's found Tim.
And never let it be said that Bernard Dowd is a coward.
So he squares up and heads over, and ends up basically being Tim's moral support for the remainder of the pregnancy. He had even planned to be in the delivery room with Tim when the baby was born (which didn't happen because the baby decided to arrive a month early and in the most traumatic way possible).
He's not actually expecting anything from Tim. Clearly, Tim's got enough on his plate, and he's clearly still not over whoever it was who got him knocked up. So Bernard's mostly just trying to be a good friend. And if something eventually develops, well. Bernard certainly won't complain.
Bernard was thrown for kind of a loop when Danny came along, but delayed twins are a thing, so...he just kind of rolls with it. It's Gotham. Weirder things have happened.
He puts a lot of time into helping Tim out with the not-twins, and maybe kind of starts to think of the kids as maybe sort of his. In, like, a dad-that-stepped-up kind of way. Bernard is honestly surprised by how down he's turned out to be for basically co-parenting with Tim.
They end up building up a working system over the next few months, with Bernard coming over after school to mind the kids so Tim could get so rest in. By the time the not-twins are a month old, Bernard's kind of...moved into Wayne Manor. In an unofficial capacity.
And just when things seem to have reached a sort of equilibrium, Bruce dies. Or, well, it seems pretty overt that he's dead. Bernard's been in the know (to an extent) since Tim brought Danny home, so when Tim tells him his theory about the portrait of Mordecai Wayne, Bernard (funky little conspiracy theorist that he is) believes him.
Tim ends up leaving Danny and Ellie in Bernard's care so he can go and hunt down enough proof to bring Bruce home, with encouragement from Bernard (and the condition that Tim maintains regular contact while gone). It's not easy, being a single parent to twins is even less easy, but Bernard fully believes that this is something Tim needs to do, and he was already pretty much done with school, so he doesn't have to worry about college until the fall.
BruceQuest occurs largely unchanged from canon, save for the fact that Tim is less passively suicidal throughout. And when Kon finds him in that sewer...well, Tim's half-convinced he's talking to a hallucination, so he mentions the not-twins.
After that encounter, Kon makes a bee-line for Gotham, and gets to meet the babies. One thing leads to another, and Kon and Bernard end up co-parenting while Tim's off saving Bruce's bacon.
When everything is handled and Tim's back home with Bruce not too far behind, the three of them end up having to have a discussion about what they're gonna do moving forward.
Endgame TimBerKon.
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forever-rogue · 2 years
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Oohhh, how about "I will prove you wrong. Just watch." for your Javi G. prompts?
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AN | Back into the Javi G pit we go 🥰❤️
Pairing | Javi  Gutierrez x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, Discussions of Sex
Word Count | 4.2k
Masterlist | PP Characters, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Javi," you sighed heavily, despite your best intentions as you played with the condensation on the glass of your drink. You could feel his eyes studying you intently, his expression unreadable, "you don't like me like that. You don't like me the way you think you do."
"And just how do you know exactly what I'm thinking or feeling?" he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. You tried not to look, but it was hard when he was wearing a well fitted shirt that offered you just a peek of his tan, golden skin, "it is bold of you to assume you do."
"I'm not…no," you picked up your glass and quickly finished the rest of your drink, looking for any excuse to leave, "I didn't mean to assume. It's just that you come from a completely different world than I do…even after everything that happened. I've never belonged in that type of world and I don't think it would work now. I like you, Javi, I really do. And I've enjoyed every moment I've spent with you, but this is all it's ever going to be. We both knew that from the start."
“Just because it started out as one thing does not mean it cannot evolve into another,” he tried to reach for your hand across the table but you flinched out of his touch. His face fell when he noticed your hesitancy, “can you honestly tell me you do not have feelings for me? Because I can tell you I feel a type of way about you that I have not felt about anyone before…”
“Of course I have feelings for you,” oh. This was going to hurt and it was going to hurt badly, “I think you’re a wonderful person, Javi. And I…enjoy your company and I like having sex with you, but there’s nothing more than that. When we met, we agreed it would be just sex, no strings or feelings attached.”
“You’re lying,” his dark eyes didn’t waiver from yours as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You hated how easily he could read you, “I know you are. Are you lying to me - or to yourself? It is okay to let someone in and display those feelings.”
“Javi,” you let out a long breath before grabbing your purse, “please don’t make this harder than it already is. I will miss you very much, but we’ll move on. In a few weeks you won’t even think about me anymore. You’ve got countless women that would love to be with you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want them,” he ran a hand through his hair, making his curls more unruly than they already were, “I want you. Not just for sex but for everything. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Goodbye, Javi,” you put a few bills on the table before he could argue, moving to brush past him, but he was quick and was able to grab your arm, “Javi.”
“Listen,” did he really have to look at you like that with those eyes? You motioned for him to continue, “give me a few weeks. I will prove you wrong, just watch. I will prove to you that my feelings are much deeper than just sex. That we can be together despite whatever doubts you have.”
You paused for a moment, weighing your options. Fuck. You really did like him - maybe even loved - which is why you were running for the hills, if you were being quite honest. You did like having sex with him; no one else could compare to him. Was there really any harm in trying? The worst thing that would happen would be that in a few weeks you really did part ways with him. Best case scenario you’d have…him. Fully and completely.
“Okay,” you agreed softly, worrying your bottom lip, “okay. You’ve got three weeks, Javi.”
“Okay,” he gave that smile that always made you weak in the knees. He had to know the hold he had over you, “three weeks. It’s a deal.”
He held out his hand and you shook it, trying not to fixate on the fact that his hand was so large and warm, “deal.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d had a hard time sleeping the night before; you’d resigned to tossing and turning for hours, your conversation with Javi on loop in your mind. By the time you finally managed to get up, it was almost afternoon and you felt groggy and dazed. It wasn’t until a knock came at your door that you were startled into alertness. You looked through the peephole to find…well you weren’t quite sure. You hesitantly opened the door, poking your head out, “hello?”
“Delivery - these are for you,” from somewhere behind the huge, ornate arrangement of flowers you heard a small voice. The vase was shoved into your hands without ceremony and you balked at how heavy it was. 
“These can’t be for me,” you insisted, trying to hand them back. The delivery person said your name to confirm and you nodded in visible confusion, “who are they from?”
“I don’t know, but there’s a card. Have a nice day!” they almost ran before you could say anything further and you carried everything into the kitchen, setting it down on the table. It was nothing short of magnificent - easily the most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen. This had to cost someone a small fortune…oh. You grabbed the small card and hastily ready it, confirming that it was indeed from Javi. He’d somehow remembered what your favorite flowers were…you sure you’d mentioned them once in passing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but smile at them; no one had gotten you flowers like this before. 
Almost as if he knew you were thinking about him, your phone rang, his name flashing across your screen. You hesitantly picked it up, feeling nervous all of a sudden, “Javi.”
“Hola bonita,” he sounded so excited that it was hard not to feel that enthusiasm, “how are you?”
“I’m…fine. I just got up a little bit ago and then got this huge delivery of flowers,” you heard him inhale sharply, “they’re absolutely wonderful, Javi. You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to,” he insisted, “they are your favorites, no? I know you’ve told me, but I thought if I asked it would be too obvious.”
“They are. Good memory,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “thank you, Javi.”
“It was nothing,” maybe to him, but to you it meant a lot, “are you free tonight?”
“That depends…what did you have in mind?” he was definitely taking his opportunity and making the most of it. 
“How about dinner and a movie? Nothing fancy, just us.”
“Alright Javi,” you agreed, although if you were being honest it hadn’t taken much contemplation on your part. So much for trying to prove him wrong, “sounds good.”
“I’ll pick you up at six?”
“I’ll see you at six,” you promised, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves.You hadn’t really done this before with him…you’d never actually gone on a date. Sure you’d had dinner a few times together either before or after sex, but nothing like this. Nothing that wasn’t going just going to led into sex. 
When you’d met him months ago, at a random party in LA you’d been immediately taken with him. How could you not have been? He was handsome; a head full of chocolate curls, soft expressive eyes, and a smile that you could melt over. And then you’d heard him speak and you were a goner. He’d told you who was, sparing no details, and at that point you didn’t even care if it was all lies; turns out none of it was and he was that Javi Gutierrez. 
One thing had led to another and you found yourself going back to his hotel with him, only leaving in the morning after he’d thoroughly rocked your world…multiple times. But to your surprise, it hadn’t turned into a one night stand, but instead it became a sort of clandestine affair. 
You’d insisted on keeping it purely for sex from the start, knowing if it was anything more you’d fall in love. And you didn’t want to fall in love with because you couldn’t even fathom the idea that he might break your heart one day. Besides all that he was money - old and new. He came from a world of privilege and shiny, fancy things while you were far from that. It was two different worlds and you doubted you’d ever fit into his. But the sex was so good and you did like him a lot. So you’d kept it going all these months. 
But yesterday, things had changed. He’d asked you to meet for a drink after you got off work and while surprised, you didn’t say no. When he’d confessed that his feelings ran much deeper than just friends with benefits, you’d been floored. Surely he didn’t mean…he was just clouded in his judgment. You were certain he was making a mistake; you should be pursuing him and not the other way around, if anything. You’d given him the out, the clear chance to walk away but he didn’t want it. 
Maybe there was more to him than you’d originally thought. 
Now the biggest question was - what the hell were you going to wear?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The next two weeks were spent in what felt like a whirlwind romance. That’s exactly what you’d been afraid of. That he would just be as wonderful as you imagined and make falling for him so easy.
After that first date of dinner and a movie, he’d dropped you off at him without asking to come in and when you volunteered, he declined. He’d left you with only a chaste kiss on the cheek, promising he’d let you know when he got home. You’d just assumed he would come in and spend the night, but there was something that made your heart flutter at the fact that he didn’t. That he treated this like a real first date. 
He’d asked if you wanted to go to the beach a few days later and you jumped at the opportunity. Not just to see him, which you were extremely happy about, but because you loved the ocean. Javi had shown up at your apartment in the late morning, swim trunks on along with a loose mostly open button up, a big picnic basket under his arm. You didn’t miss the way his eyes grew wide when he saw the swimsuit you were wearing. Maybe it was an impulse purchase, maybe it was carefully curated, along with your cover up and floppy sun hat for a reason.
When you’d gotten to the beach, he’d offered to help with sunscreen and took his sweet time making sure you were well covered. He totally knew what he was doing. But you just dished it right back, which somehow ended up with you giggling wildly, caged in his arms on the soft beach towel. He’d allowed himself to kiss you; it was gentle and saccharine and left you wanting more. It was hard to control yourself around him, especially when the beach wasn’t crowded and you had him all to yourself. But he kept it very lowkey, but you still had enjoyed your afternoon of swimming and lying out on the beach with him. Afterwards he’d taken you to a small little hole in the place for dinner before taking you home. You didn’t ask him to come in and he hadn’t pushed you. He did however, gently take your face in his hands and kissed you until you were both breathless and flushed. 
By the time the first week came to end, you’d seen him several more times. One afternoon he’d texted and asked if you wanted to go mini-golfing (you had) and another morning he called and asked if you wanted to have brunch (you absolutely had). 
The more time you spent with him, the more you got to know him, the harder you fell for him. He was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was funny, kind, smart, considerate and caring, and quirky in all the best ways. Most of all, he showed you that he really did care; he remembered all these little details and things you’d told him mindlessly through the months you’d been sleeping together. No one you’d dated in the past had ever paid that much attention to you before.
But the one thing you hadn’t done, much to your surprise, was sleep together. It had become an unspoken thing but for some reason you hadn’t mind. Getting to be with him not under the guise of hooking up was…nice. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
There was a knock on your office door, which caused you to almost jump in surprise; you’d been intently focused on reading through a lengthy email. You found one of the younger interns watching you with curiosity, “there’s someone here for you.”
“Oh,” you hadn’t been expecting anyone, “you can let them in.”
“Okay,” she grinned but paused for a moment, “is he your boyfriend? He’s dreamy.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend…” oh. You bit your lip to try and contain your smile - it didn’t work. You shook your head, “Spanish accent?”
“Yes!”
“Javi,” you told her, “he’s my…friend. You can let him in.”
She bounced away, seemingly excitedly by the idea that he wasn’t your boyfriend; it hadn’t been the first time someone had been eyeing him in your presence. You quickly straightened yourself, wondering if you had enough time to touch up your lipstick before he came in. 
“Bonita,” his face broke in a grin as soon as he saw you. You almost jumped up and ran over to him before pulling him into a hug. The sudden display of affection caught you off guard, but you didn’t care. When he gently kissed you, your heart practically threatened to burst with joy, “hi.”
“Hi,” you laughed lightly before pulling back to sit on the edge of your desk, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was in the neighborhood-”
“Your apartment is across town,” you teased, watching as a flush of pink crept into his cheeks, “nice try. But, for what it’s worth, I am happy to see you.”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” he sat down in the chair in front of him, watching you intently, “I wanted to see if you were free for dinner. If…you’d like to come over to my place and we can cook together.”
“You just saw me yesterday,” your soft laugh made his whole body vibrate with excited energy. God, he’d fallen for you in a heartbeat, even if you hadn’t believed him, “are you sure you’re not tired of me yet?”
“Are you tired of me?”
“No,” you admitted softly, “I don’t think I could ever get tired of you, Javi.”
“I feel the same. It doesn’t matter how often I see you,” he stood up in front of you, gently raising his hand to touch your cheek, “I will still be just as happy. It has been two weeks.”
“You’ve got one week left,” you still found it hard to admit to yourself - you hadn’t even said it out loud, but he didn't need another week. If you weren’t so scared of the what ifs you’d already have told him. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist before giving it a gentle squeeze, “what time should I be over? What should I bring?”
“How about six?” he asked excitedly, practically bouncing on his heels, “we can have whatever you like…just text me and I can make sure I have everything ready. Just bring yourself.”
“Are you-”
“Yes,” he cut you off, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll see you tonight, Bonita.”
“See you tonight, Javi.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d left work early - luckily it had been a slow day - to get home and get ready for your evening with Javi. You didn’t know but there was something about tonight that made you more nervous than you’d expected. You took a long, hot shower making sure you were squeaky clean before hopping out to do your hair and makeup. You didn’t want to do too much, but still wanted to look nice. Although you had a feeling that you could have shown up in a hoodie and joggers and Javi still would have claimed that you were the most beautiful woman in the world. And yet…you wanted to do this. 
Opting for makeup that was minimal and letting your hair air dry, you scoured your closet for something to wear. After some debate you settled on a pretty yellow and white daisy sundress and sandals. That way you’d look nice but it wouldn’t look like you were trying too hard. Right? Right. 
Giving yourself one last look over, you couldn’t help but smile at your own reflection. On your way out, you grabbed a bottle of wine you had stashed for a special occasion, deciding that showing up completely empty handed just wouldn’t do. 
You didn’t even get a chance to knock on his door; he opened as you stood there with your hand poised, but had stopped yourself due to nerves. He must have heard because he was standing there, looking at you as though you had hung the moon and all the stars.
“H-hi Javi,” you offered him a tentative smile as his eyes remained fixated on yours, “I brought wine. I was always taught that you should never show up empty handed.”
“We’ll put it to good use then, bonita,” he reached for your hand to pull inside, “you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” your face flushed with warmth, “you look pretty good yourself.”
“If I’m going to make a good impression, I have to look the part,” he shot you a wink as he took the wine from you and set it on the counter, “and don’t say that I could have worn a sweatsuit and it would have been fine.”
“Well you would have,” you grinned, “you always look good, Javi. What can I-”
You were quickly cut off by his lips on yours as he gently kissed you, his hands cupping your face as you wrapped your arms around his waist. There was a sheepish expression on his face when he pulled back, “I’m sorry - I could not stop myself.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” you swept past him into the kitchen, looking at all the ingredients he’d already set out. You’d told him that you didn’t have a meal preference for dinner and when he suggested teaching you a traditional Spanish dish, you couldn’t say no, “this looks wonderful. Hopefully it’ll turn out just as well.”
“Of course it will,” he stood behind you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of your frame, “I’ll guide you through it step by step.”
"Oh?" you leaned back against, barely to contain yourself when he rested his head on your shoulder, his hands settling on top of yours, "I'm not great in the kitchen, you might have to be extra thorough."
"I can do that," he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, before taking a step back. You made a small sound of disappointment at the loss of his body against yours, "one thing first. Some music."
He walked into the living room, grabbing a record from one of the crates you’d noticed the first time you were at his apartment. Javi must have known exactly what vinyl he was looking for, grabbing it without hesitation as he popped it onto the vintage record player. 
“Very romantic,” you beamed as he came back over, “really setting the scene here.”
“What can I say,” he stroked your cheek and you were reminded of just how large and gentle his hands were, “there’s nothing you won’t do for someone you’re wooing.”
“Wooing?” you grinned, “you’re wooing me? Is that what this is? Hmmm…”
“Is it working?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you bit your lip, finding it impossible to meet his gaze. Yes. You knew he knew that was the answer in your mind, “let’s dance.”
“What about dinner?”
“Dinner can wait,” he held out his hand, watching as you slid your much smaller one in his, “mi bonita.”
“I can’t dance,” you stammered nervously, trying to ignore the feel of his hand on your waist, “I’ll step on your feet.”
“I’ll teach you,” he insisted, “it’s simple.”
“Do you just know everything?” you let him lead, effortlessly falling into step with him, “why are you perfect?”
“There’s plenty I don’t know,” he insisted as you scoffed lightly, “there’s plenty you will teach me, I’m sure.”
“Javi…” you closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, “I…you didn’t need three weeks. You didn’t even need one or two weeks.”
“Oh?” he seemed surprised by your confession, but didn’t stop from gently swaying with you, “how long did I need?”
“You didn’t need any time. You already had me,” you admitted quietly, “I’ve been…I’m scared, Javi.”
“Do I scare you?” you’d back from him, leaning against the counter as you watched his face go through several different emotions.
“No - yes but no. I’m…I’m scared that you’re too good to be true. That one day you’ll get tired of me and not want me anymore. You’ll realize I’m so different from you and you won’t like it. I…I’ve had feelings for you from the start but I never expected they would go so deep,” it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest as you finally said everything out loud, “I thought if I pushed you away and we just had sex it would be fine. But it wasn’t. And then you’d look at me…like I meant so much to you and it…really wasn’t hard to fall for you. But I’m scared that one day you’ll break my heart and I can’t bear the idea that you would do that. You’re like a dream come true and I’m afraid I’ll wake up.”
“It’s not a dream, it’s all true. I am not a man that will just say something to say it. You should know that by now. 
“I do, I really do. But…what about when you go back to Spain? I imagine at some point you will - I know you like LA but it’s not your home, and I know you love Mallorca…”
“You’ll come with me,” his face had lit up at the idea, “or I’ll stay here with you.”
“I can’t ask you to make that sacrifice, Javi…”
"It’s not a sacrifice when you’re doing it for someone you love,” he insisted, smiling when you looked at him with wide, curious eyes, “I would do whatever you wanted…home is not always a place but the person you’re with.”
“You love me?” your voice cracked as the back of your eyes prickled with tears, “do you mean it?”
“Yes,” he promised softly, “I do.” 
“Oh. Oh,” you were trying to process everything he’d said, your mind reeling. He loved you. You knew he would never say anything if he didn’t mean it. That wasn’t him, “Javi…”
“I hope I did not make you uncomfortable,” he looked worried as you shook your head, “I would not presume you feel the same but I wanted to tell you. Like you said, you would give me a chance-”
“I love you,” you cut him off, surprising yourself and him by the sudden declaration, “I…I have been. And I’ve realized over the last couple of weeks just how much. Just how in love with you I am. And I’m not just saying that. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“It hasn’t been three weeks,” the look on his face was golden. How could you not have fallen in love with this man? It would have been impossible, “are you sure-”
“Kiss me,” you cut him off by putting your finger on his lips, “I’m still…scared but it’s a leap of faith. And I’m willing to take that leap with you.”
He was kissing you before you could fully comprehend what had happened, his whole body enveloping yours as he picked you up and put you on the counter. He was reluctant to part his lips from yours, only doing so when you both needed some air. 
“Mi bonita,” he was smiling now, his whole face lit up with sheer happiness, “I-”
Your stomach gurgled loudly, which caused you both to laugh, “I’m hungrier than I thought!”
“Let us make dinner,” he offered his hand to help you off the counter, “can’t have you hungry, especially when you’re going to be working up an appetite later.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow, “is that so?”
“I have not touched you in almost three weeks,” he scoffed playfully, “I intend to change that tonight, bonita.” 
“Javi,” you gasped lightly as he pressed himself against you to guide you through the cooking process, “please.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he whispered in your ear, “I will give you everything, bonita. Don’t worry.”
“Fuck - I…I love you, Javi.”
“Y yo también. Te amo, bonita.”
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absinthe-and-tea · 3 years
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Hii, you wrote slashers and s/o with big boobs, but what about the opposite? S/o with small boobs who is insecure about that and feels less like a woman?
Btw I love your writing and your headcanons. They make my day ♥
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I myself have pretty tiny boobs soooo- also I got this request twice kinda so I hope you guys dont mind me putting them into one ❤ Also super happy you like my stuff!!
P.S. I got half way through this and had to start over cause Tumblr deleted my progress 🙃
Slasher HCs || S/O W/ Small Breasts
Warnings: N//SFW
Jason Voorhees
He loves you no matter what. Honestly he loves how small they are. They easily fit in his hands, making it easier to touch all of you in a shorter amount of time.
If he sees you're down about them, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up gently. He'll then proceed to cover them in kisses.
He can't speak so he often uses his hands or mouth to praise them in other ways.
Loves running his thumb over your nipple to watch the small bud harden from his touch.
When you're intimate with him he makes sure to give them lots of attention. He prefers using his hands, loving how soft they are.
He's always loved them so he'll always continue to touch them and whatnot.
Michael Myers
He's fairly indifferent about them. He prefers was anyways.
Doesn't really compliment them or pay much attention to them the first time you two are intimate.
He doesn't notice how you feel for a while but when he finds you criticizing them though, it's fair game.
Will start coming up behind you, running his hands up your sides and to your breasts to engulf them in his large hands and gently squeeze.
He loves messing with them, that includes lightly pinching them. But he loves using his mouth on the more. Beware, he will nip and bite just hard enough to get a reaction from you.
Even after he's convinced you they are perfect, he'll continue touching them abd whatnot cause he'll have realized how much he likes them on you.
Brahms Heelshire
He's a manchild. And it shows. He definitely prefers bigger but he's alright with small breasts too.
100% has an oral fixation. Meaning he'll suck on them a lot. Whether he's partially laying on your lap or if you're on his lap stradling him, he's gonna have his mouth on them.
He'll say something about wishing they were bigger, not thinking about how it would make you feel.
If you start wearing sweaters more often or staring into mirrors longer, silently judging yourself, he'll start to take notice.
He'll start to grope them more and give them more attention while whispering how much he loves them.
He's an ass sometimes. But he loves you and your body. He'll make sure you know it too.
The Other
He's not home often and when he is, he spends a lot of time with his daughter but the moment its just you two, he's immediately walking towards you like a predator stalking it's prey.
He doesn't care about your boob size at all or if you have a nice ads. He just loves you.
When you cuddle, he'll always have a hand under your shirt. Either resting on your tummy or one of your breasts. Usually the latter.
If he sees how much you resent them, he'll show his love for them and your vidy in general by getting you lingerie.
The moment he sees you in it, you're getting thrown on the bed and getting the best night of your life.
Prepare to always be worshipped.
Vincent Sinclair
He loves them. No matter what, you are his muse. His inspiration.
He loves putting his hands on your sides and gently running his thumbs underneath them, against your ribs. Almost like he's sculpting a masterpiece.
He adores that they are small because he can pull your body even closer to his. He loves feeling all of you.
He prefers using his hands on them but he will gladly suckle on them as well. He's a bit shy though so you'll have to tell him you want it.
Absolutely hates that you feel badly about habing small boobs. So, he'll make countless sculptures, paintings, and drawings of you. He'll have so many things of just you that it feels as though he knows your body better than yourself.
Bo Sinclair
Another ass man but a nice set tits is great too. And that includes yours.
He enjoys them. How soft they are especially. His hands are very rough from doing mechanic work on the side so he enjoys the difference in softness.
If you say anything bad about them or judge them, he'll sit you on his lap and suckle them until you're writhing on top of him from sensitivity.
Not afraid to grope you in front of others or slide his hand under your shirt. Your his and he'll make that known real quick.
Loves to leave bitemarks and bruises on them to show you how much he likes them and how much he fully claims them and you.
Lester Sinclair
He likes boobs in general. Small or not. He just really likes the soft mounds.
Loves the feeling of your soft, squishy flesh under his hands and your hardened nipple brushing against his palm.
Gets super wide-eyed and excited if you wear lingerie that lets your breasts hang out. He'll sit there in awe until you get on his lap.
The moment you're on him, he's on you. Licking and nipping them softly, his hands gently groping and squeezing.
His heaven is either his head between your legs or against your breasts so expect him in either place at least once a night.
Solomon Goode
He worships every bit of you. You are his love after all and he would do anything to make you happy.
He enjoys the fact he can hold you close to his chest without large breasts in the way.
Enjoys teasing you every so often when in passing or not busy with work around the house or garden.
Seeing you topless makes his throat go dry and he begins hesitantly walking to you. You'll have to give him the okay to touch you but once you do, his mouth is attached to one of your nipples. His hand moving to rub the other.
He loves your softness and the smell of flowers that seems to surround you without your knowing. Being so close to you and tasting you is intoxicating to him.
Will always compliment them when he gets a good view. He'll never let you feel down about yourself. And if someone does something to make you feel that way, oops. Where'd they go?
Harry Warden
He's so happy anytime he can touch them. For a while though he won't take his gloves off, afraid you'll find him repulsive.
Though once he does and he feels the soft flesh for the first time, he'll never want to let go.
He loves the small mounds almost as much as he hates Valentine's Day. Between the softness of your flesh and the way your nipples harden at his touch, he's completely addicted to them.
Enjoys covering them in kisses while he praises you and compliments you. You're his precious lover after all.
Expect him to compliment them every time he sees you once he realizes you think they aren't perfect. They are gorgeous. Just like you.
Bubba Sawyer
Absolutely loves them. He couldn't even mildly dislike anything about you. You're perfect in his eyes. He'll even make you sundresses that show them off perfectly.
Though be careful when wearing said sundress because he'll get distracted by you really quick, causing him to forget about his work.
When laying in bed he'll always have a hand on one of your breasts subconsciously. Not even on purpose most times, he just wants to hold you.
Definitely another with an oral fixation. He enjoys gently playing with your hardened nipples with his tongue when in a more intimate moment.
Won't publicly do anything like groping because he's a good boy but will attempt to compliment you. You'll know what he's trying to say when he does.
Thomas Hewitt
Very handsy with you once your relationship starts to take off. Your breasts being something that fascinates him despite the size.
When you two are cuddled up in bed he will lightly run his fingertips over them to watch the goosebumps form and your nipples harden.
His favorite thing to do is grab your sides and use his thumbs to rub the little nubs. His eyes will wonder from your breasts to your face, wanting to catch the faces you make.
After a while he'll attach his mouth to one, his eyes never leaving your face. He adores how much pleasure he can give you from something so small.
His opinion when you bring up how you feel about them is "Good things come in small packages."
Eddie Gluskin
Well you already have a one up on his exes. They didn't even have anything at all. Barely even mosquito bites.
He'll run his fingertips over the mounds, lightly pressing down to see the small squish it makes.
You're his perfect bride. His Darling. So different from the whores he was with before. Your body is something else to him.
The mounds may be small but boy does he praise them and cover them in affection.
If you ask, he'd be happy to add an modifications to your wedding dress to make you feel better about them.
Though he'll need to do a lot of... Researching... To make sure he gets the measurements right.
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snackhobi · 4 years
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pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)
summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.
but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.
or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.
warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex
a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif​ for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?
--
Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.
He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.
You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.
Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.
You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.
(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)
However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.
“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.
Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan. 
“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)
“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.
“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”
You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.
Jesus Christ.
“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve. 
“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”
Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable. 
You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.
And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.
“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”
The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?
That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)
“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”
The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.
You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)
“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.
You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.
“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is. 
“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”
That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.
“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”
For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church. 
Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?
Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?
You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside. 
(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)
The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’
The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.
… Anyway.
You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.
Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.
“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”
“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?” 
Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.
“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.
(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)
You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.
“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”
At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.
“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.
The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.
“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement. 
“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”
“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”
You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”
You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.
You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble. 
You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”
Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”
Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.
By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.
“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”
You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom. 
“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.
You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised. 
Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.
“How’s your shoulder feeling?”
“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.
“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.
The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.
“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”
When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”
--
Your luck doesn’t last.
“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”
You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”
Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.
“What do you think sounds best?”
“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”
“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”
“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”
Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.
Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”
“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.
“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”
Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.
He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt. 
“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”
Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.
“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”
“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”
“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.
When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”
You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts. 
“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”
“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”
You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.
“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”
“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”
Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”
“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”
“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”
“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.
There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.
You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.
The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.
The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.
Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.
You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.
Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.
He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.
“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”
He just shakes his head.
“Okay,” you say.
(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)
The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh. 
“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.
“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”
He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”
Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”
“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.
“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”
There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.
He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless. 
(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)
So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck. 
“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”
Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”
Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?
You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.
“Taehyung?”
“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”
You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in. 
“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)
His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”
Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.
But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.
The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.
Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?
(You’re going to die.)
It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres. 
And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.
It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body. 
(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)
Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage. 
… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.
… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.
You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.
“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.
Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.
In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.
(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)
“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”
Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.
You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”
(It’s not cool.)
You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.
At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.
But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe. 
“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.
It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead. 
You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.
Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.
“Better?”
Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.
“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”
You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming. 
Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.
(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)
Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.
Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—
Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class. 
(What is he doing?)
But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.
They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.
“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.
His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end. 
“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.
He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”
“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.
Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”
You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—
Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.
“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”
He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”
It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.
“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”
You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.
“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?” 
(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)
(But.)
(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)
“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”
He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.
“Taehyung.” Almost pleading. 
“Yes, love?”
You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it. 
(You’re not.)
“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.
Before you can think, you nod.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”
You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—
His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.
You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing. 
“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”
“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.
“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”
“Anything you want,” he murmurs.
Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.
Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.
You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.
“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”
“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.
“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”
You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.
“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”
Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.
You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.
Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.
“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”
“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.” 
Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.
When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.
“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.
“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good. 
“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”
Of course you want to.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”
He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.
“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it. 
(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)
You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.
(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)
You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.
“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.
“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”
Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.
He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.
“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”
Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm. 
“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be. 
Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.
“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.
And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling  in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—
—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.
“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.
“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”
He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”
“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.
There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.
“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”
“You got edible massage oil from your course?”
Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”
You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh. 
“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”
Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.
“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.
That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”
“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”
“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”
It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.
When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.
“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”
His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent. 
“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed. 
“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.
Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.
“You really are perfect,” he says.
“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.
He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside. 
Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil. 
There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.
You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.
“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”
“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”
His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.
“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”
A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.
“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”
“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.
Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.
Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.
“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”
“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.
“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”
It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.
(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)
When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.
Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.
“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”
“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”
When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—
The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.
You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.
One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed. 
“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”
Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”
“Here?”
He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.
(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)
He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.
You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.
“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”
“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”
And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.
And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you. 
Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.
“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”
And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.
He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.
You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you. 
When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.
“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”
You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—
“Oh, fuck—”
—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.
When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.
(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)
You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.
“‘M sorry,” he murmurs. 
You pause.
“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”
“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…” 
You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”
“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”
You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”
There’s a pause. “Really?”
When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.
You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”
When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”
“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.
“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”
“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”
You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.
Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”
Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.
(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)
When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.
“Taehyung?”
“Yes, angel?”
You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”
Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.
“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”
“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”
And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.
--
(“Hey, Pickles.”
The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.
“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”
Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”
Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.
“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.
“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”
Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)
--
taglist: @beyoncesdragon​
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comfortwriting · 3 years
Text
A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W
Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist
Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series
Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 
Want to be tagged? Let me know!
A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.
It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.
After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.
Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.
You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.
You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.
Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.
“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.
Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.
“Well, you never asked.”
George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”
You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.
“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.
Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”
Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.
You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”
And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.
During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.
Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.
“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”
“Lose a leg.”
“Or an arm.”
“Pack it in altogether.”
“Never!”
Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.
You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?
Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.
“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.
Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.
The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.
“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”
Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”
“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.
“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.
The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”
Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.
“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”
The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.
This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.
“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”
Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.
The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.
“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.
“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”
“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”
“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”
You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”
Fred laughed.
“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”
You ignored her and played along anyway.
“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”
George hesitated for a moment “Truth”
“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”
After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.
“Y/N, truth or dare?”
I swear if you ask me anything stupid -
“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.
George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”
Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!
“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.
More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.
Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.
“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”
but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.
“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”
You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.
His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”
“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.
“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”
“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”
“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.
“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”
“But you always do, Freddie!”
He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.
“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”
Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.
“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.
Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”
The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.
Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.
Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.
“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”
“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.
After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.
This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.
But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.
Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.
Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.
“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.
“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”
Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.
Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.
Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.
You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.
“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.
“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”
Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?
The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.
“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”
Baby.
“Y/N!”
Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.
Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.
As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.
Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx
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sweettodo · 4 years
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Animals ⟿ Levi Ackerman x fem!reader
Includes : cockwarming, smut, swearing, riding, slight praise.
Word count : 1,8k
An, ik this is short. But I’m down bad yall. I am so dick deprevied it is just sad. ANYWAYS. Also I couldn’t think of a good title bc this is just smut w no plot??
Levi was not the one for pda, quite the opposite- no surprise there; he hated kissy couples who laid all over each other like idiots. It was really disappointing when you were more or less ignored besides meal time throughout the day, where in the dining hall we would be able to have some conversation.
You sat across from him at dinner, the smoldering heat from the summer evening which kept you all from wearing your normal uniforms, you wore a white tank top with some random shorts while Levi looked incredibly sculpted, his pecs and abs filling out a tight-ish short sleeve shirt, sweat slightly sticking to his arms, restricting, that- that tight...
“Oi, staring much?” My gaze snaps back to his dark eyes, deadpan face and all. You smirk and roll your eyes, his eyes fell deep into yours; he bit his tongue in anticipation of what you were planning next.
“Sorry, Captain.” You drag, with that slight whiney undertone you purposely allowed to slip from your lips. he scowled at you, obviously irritated at your childish behavior, you playfully kick him under the table, Hange eyes you from the corner of her eyes, smile planted on her face. Everyone knew you rarely called Levi ‘Captain’ and the only time you did was- quite frankly- in the bedroom.
She turns to face Levi, her smile only growing when she sees how irritated he looked, “why the pout ‘Captain?’” She laughs teasingly, patting his shoulder. It was all fun and games until you don’t expect the sharp kick into your calf, you jerk backwards and wince, followed by a hiss and you stand, your legs hopping over the bench and as you pass Levi, you feel his eyes burn holes into your backside. Steering yourself across the halls and finally down to Levi’s office with the adjoining bedroom, sneaking into the office; making sure no one saw, you close the door behind you in excitement; your stomach giddy knowing you did a sufficient job planting a little bug in Levi’s ear; enough to get the ball rolling.
One thing no one knew, a surprising fact that left you baffled the first time you had heard it; Levi was a switch. At least when he felt like it. It came in handy when he didn’t want to do any work.
He liked to watch you get yourself off and use him like a toy.
Slowly walking around his perfectly neat desk, the infamous Levi walks in, slamming the door behind him. While he stood there, you continue strolling around the wooden desk, fingers lightly trailing across the smooth finish of his desk, “do you think you’re subtle? Practically moaning my title in front of our peers?” He grits, walking over to his bedroom door, opening it and standing there waiting for me, “get on the bed. Now. This is what you wanted right? To piss me off enough?” I slyly walk by him, ignoring his tantrum, my fingers once again trailing across his immediate tensed stomach. He shuts the door behind him and watches you sit on the bed, legs hanging off the side.
It didn’t take long for the air to quickly become thick in the moderalty large room. Your neglected pussy throbbing at the idea that it was about to be packed to the fucking brim.
He slips off his shirt whilst standing in between your legs, you gulp and look up at him. Suddenly grabbing your jaw, a tight grip which you quickly realized he wasn’t going to make this any easier for yourself, “I’m gonna get on this bed, and you’re gonna ride me.” You blink innocently, incapable of nodding from his freakish Ackerman strength. He shoves you off his hand, your back hitting the bed, your hand raising to your jaw and rubbing the tenderness.
Unbuttoning his pants, kicking them off his thighs and propping himself against the rustic wood headboard, you slip off your top, followed by your shorts, you approach him to straddle him, starting to throw a leg over his waist.
But before you can do that...
Grabbing ahold of your hips, he begins manhandling you, turning you around to reverse him, “that’s unfair.” You pout, his hands dragging up and down your thighs, applying a loud slap against your right ass cheek, your cunt clenching as he slaps you again with his hard calloused hand.
“What’s unfair? What’s there to look at if you’re facing me?” He chuckles, you crane your head back to look at him, a smug look on his stupid face.
You bring yourself up and deciding to give yourself a little pleasure. You find yourself bringing your clothed heat against his hard cock, grinding.
This. This, for certain Levi could not resist, he allows you to give a little friction, knowing he wouldn’t allow it to go on for too long regardless, “I wanted to look at your face.” You hum, whining your hips slightly against him, his mouth falling dry.
“Tch, show me what you can do, yeah?” His hands massaging the small of your back, gripping and kneeding tightly as you sit up only a little, leaning down so you can snake your hand between your legs and releasing his dick from his boxers with one hand, he uses his two fingers to move your underwear to the side, adjusting so you can ride him.
Your hands grip his thighs, the curve to your back which he looked at, your shoulder blades rolling, fitting him into your cunt, your head moving almost erratically as he stuffs you, “so fucking wet, how long have you been like this princess? I fucking love it.” He praises, his hands still helping you up and down still at a slow pace.
“All day Levi.” You admit, he lets out a little ‘hm’ in response, he was just so fixated on the way your hips and thighs moved while on top of his slightly sweaty body; the sound of skin sticking together was echoing throughout the bedroom.
His hand lingering up your spine, reaching for your hair, his fingers entangling into your roots, grabbing hard and yanking your light headed - head back, he sits up and brings his head right to the crook of your shoulder, you stop thrusting yourself up and down momentarily, “I love it when you sit pretty on my cock like this, mh’ could be like this all fucking night.”
You can only wimped in response, walls uncontrollably flexing and twitching around his cock which sat nested in you for what felt like forever, with his hand still in your hair, he used his free one to weave around to your front, slipping into your underwear, you gasped and cried out, panting like a fucking dog as he plants firm and pressurized circular motions around your clit.
You couldn’t move; body being help down on his dick, you couldn’t even squirm underneath him, “Such a feign for my cock aren’t you? Tell me what you want.” You could’ve cum right then and there.
“Bend me over.” You begged, he picks up the pace of his three fingers which spun crazily around your bud, his fingers becoming soaked. He completely ignored you, “fuck! Levi!” You wail, your pussy twitching, eyes rolling back, still restrained over his hard on. Thighs twitching as you feel the slick of your cum bathing Levi’s already drenched cock. His fingers had slowed tremendously, working you through your first orgasm, he releases his fist from your hair and your weak neck drops down and you breathe, you wanted him to fuck you now.
“You better not move. I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He growls, feeling you attempt to lift your hips back up for any type of thrust; which he stopped.
His hand leaves your slit, you groan in frustration, “Captain, please bend me over.” You whine and plead once again.
This time it works, he quickly pulls out and pushes you onto your elbows, he gets on his knees, lightly slapping your shoulder, motioning you to turn your face towards the head frame as he stood perched behind you; your head in the pillows as he kicks open your legs with his knee, pushing down against your hips so he could look at your throbbing pink pussy, screaming to be fucked.
“I shouldn’t even be touching you right now.” He grits, angling himself against your cunt, sliding back in, it truly stung, the time he spent sitting inside you only heightened those nerves, they exploded when they came into contact. “Annoying me like that? You think you deserve this?” He insults, contradicting his words with his slow thrusts, crying into the pillow, his tight grip which held your legs in place, he’s pulling your hips towards him; fucking you onto his dick.
“I-m sorry Levi.” You moan, he smacks your ass, the stinging sensation onto going straight to the most sensitive area. You were so close to releasing again; luckily for you Levi wasn’t they type to stop you. Loud moans being somewhat silenced by the pillows yet didn’t block all the sound. Levi, who is drilling your hips onto his, he stops and switches roles, him doing the pounding.
Levi’s hand grabs ahold of the headboard, watching you fall apart under him, arm and back flexing beautifully as your cum juiced down his cock. You were so fucking wet, wetting his thighs and your own from the skin to skin contact.
With one hand placed roughly on your back, the other on the headboard, he wastes no time gaining momentum and fucking you absolutely silly; fucking you till’ you were seeing stars when you closed your eyes.
Your weak hand reaches for his moving body and you keep it on top of your tail bone so you could touch his stomach as he thrusted back and forth into you, the tips of your fingers touching him was enough for you to orgasm.
Not to mention the headboard banging back into the wall as well- which neither of you paid any mind to-while he was assaulting the absolute fuck out of your cunt. Your tears and drool which have destroyed the pillow are no match for the amount of cum and sweat that both you and Levi had soaked the sheets with. You two fucked each other like animals, you two could be going all day and night if you didn’t need the sleep for the coming day.
Nor did he care about pulling out, not even warning you, or even himself for that matter- he’s catching himself unloading a thick load deep into your squeezing pussy. His grunts filling the room; followed by a repeated ramble of your name. You had lost count to how many times you had cum, which came to no shocker when it was Levi.
He stays inside you, his sputtering thrusts, he panted as he still kept you full and warm with his softening cock, not wanting to feel cold, stubborn about the fact he needed to stop fucking you at some point. People were bound to have heard the banging headboard and wailing, which you and Levi would be hearing about with the neighboring headroom and office... Hange’s room and office.
He finally slides out of you, entertained at the sight of his cock covered in slick. You lift your head up and throw yourself onto your back, whilst Levi is doing the same. He looked a mess, glistening with sweat, hair either sticking to his forehead or little pieces even clumped together; with his cheeks red, mouth slightly open with heavy breaths from his chest- he was a hot mess, but you didn’t even want to know what you looked like.
“Let me pee and we go again Captain Levi?” You tease, body perking up, he looks up at you and smirked, nodding and as you roll out of bed, he slaps you hard against your ass, you jump and scurry to the bathroom.
“We don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyways.” Levi mumbles as he stands up to follow you to the bathroom.
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Take Me Out (2/2)
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(A/N): ehem, this second part’s a little steamy (by my standards lol)
Part 1 here!
______
The next time you had found yourself in the king of curses’ domain, it was the first time you properly saw him in his physical form. 
“You could at least be a little nicer to me, Sukuna.” you expressed your disappointment of not being greeted warmly by the curse when you had made your way to the bottom of his throne of skulls. “I accepted your date even without seeing what you looked like first. The least you could do is say hi the first time we meet officially.”
Leaning on the side of the throne with his chin rested on his hand, he clicked his tongue at you.
“I should just kill you right now and get it over with.”
But you weren’t even listening, too distracted with staring at Sukuna’s appearance. Having always talked to the curse on Yuuji’s cheek, his physical form was unfamiliar to you. 
You unconsciously bit your bottom lip when your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every one of its features. Even though most of his torso was covered by the robe, anyone could tell he had a fit physique. Your appreciative stares seemed to further inflate his already large ego, prompting him to suddenly rip apart his white robe to properly showcasing his form.
Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.
Watching your still-dazed look with a pleased grin, he teleported down from his throne to where you were standing. 
“I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t think you were a pervert as well.” Sukuna smirked, smugly. 
Unknowingly, you swallowed at the sudden close proximity. It took everything in you not to reach out and touch his abs that were presented before you. 
After realizing you weren’t going to tear your eyes away from his chest anytime soon, Sukuna grabbed your chin with two fingers, pointing your face upward towards his.
“Eyes up here, woman.” he ordered you.
Meeting his eyes, you gulped at the look in them. And your breath hitched when his gaze flitted down to your lips.
A second later, his lips came down on yours.
Your eyes widened at the sensation of his mouth devouring yours, but it didn’t take long for you to adjust to the situation. You could feel him smirk when you returned the kiss with equal fervor. 
One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, the other around your waist, pulling you in closer. Whatever space there was between the two of you was nonexistent now. Even when the two of you pulled apart in order for you to breathe, he didn’t let go of his hold on you. 
The room was filled with your heavy pants when the two of you finally broke away from each other. 
Sukuna observed your dazed look and swollen lips with a satisfied look on his face. It was the first time you were the flustered one, unable to say anything.
And when the strong force pulled at his consciousness, yanking him back to his designated resting corner in Yuuji’s brain, a devious plan brewed in his mind.
_____
Unbeknownst to you, something had been brewing in Sukuna’s mind ever since your previous encounter with him. And on the next assignment you had with the brat, he was going to put the plan into action.
But when the opportunity came the following week, he was met with the sight of you laying on the ground, clutching your stomach in pain. A steady stream of blood was seeping through your fingers, while a smaller trail leaked from the corner of your mouth. Cackling from an unidentified curse was heard over your coughing of blood, the laughter mocking the current state your were in.
At the sight of your injuries and loss of blood, Sukuna’s brows furrowed. He didn’t comment on your situation, instead choosing to direct his attention to the curse that was celebrating your currently wounded state.
When the curse noticed Sukuna’s glare, it flinched under his gaze. 
Realizing who had just entered the room and knowing the obvious outcome if it stayed in the king of curses’ presence any longer, the weaker curse tried to make a run for it. But before it could it could take a step back, its body was slashed into large chunks- thick, black liquid pooling on the ground from the sudden dismemberment. The head of the curse, fully detached from its body, dropped to the floor; briefly rolling a few feet away before coming to a stop on the side of its cheek.
Sukuna grinned in satisfaction as he watched the curse’s dark blood spew out from the its mouth. He neared the now detached head, shoes scrunching from all the blood on the floor. 
“You touched what’s mine.” he stated, with a psychotic smile.
Now, unable to attempt any form of escape, the bloodshot eyes on the severed head widened in terror at the stronger curse in the room. 
Placing a foot on the dismembered head, Sukuna’s smile dropped. 
“Now you’ll die.” 
All of the dismembered body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning cursed flames- and despite being detached to the rest of it’s body, the curse was able to feel the pain of each lick of fire. 
The curse’s face scrunched in pain from the pressing on it’s head from Sukuna’s foot, An only watch as all its body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning red flames, feeling the pain of each lick of the fire despite being detached to the rest of its body. 
Once the fire dissipated after there was nothing left to burn, Sukuna pressed down heavily on the dismembered head; a series of crunches sounding from beneath his foot until nothing stood in the way between his shoe and the floor.
A cough brought Sukuna’s attention back to you.
You hadn’t moved from your original spot, still laying down on the floor; struggling to take in a breath without coughing. He teleported to where you were, the weak curse now out of the way.
A trail of red leaked from the hand you had used to cover your mouth with. And the bright liquid stained the shirt you wore, darkening the white fabric with each drop.
“I guess I’m not going to be able to make it to our date.” you chuckled weakly, staring up at him. Your lips were coated with a mix of dried and fresh blood.
“You’re not going to die.” Sukuna muttered. “I told you, I’m going to be the one who kills you.” 
Placing a hand out, he used the Reverse Cursed technique to direct his cursed energy into sealing up your gaping wounds. In an instant, you were healed. Well, for the most part. The pain from the previous wounds still lingered in your nerves and there was the fact that you had lost quite a good amount of blood, causing your head to spin when you tried to stand up.
Your whole body groaned in protest as you forced your legs to support the rest of your weight; swaying a bit before grabbing onto the nearest stable thing- which was Sukuna. He didn’t seem to mind too much being used as a substitute for a wall, seeing as you weren’t pushed back onto the ground by him.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” you said, clutching your spinning head with a moan. 
The overwhelming presence of iron from the blood on your lips left a bad taste in your mouth. You leaned further onto him for support, trying to avoid looking at spinning floor by closing your eyes.
“Don’t throw up on me, woman.”
You breathed in and out deeply, trying to ignore the pungent smell of blood filling your senses, instead focusing on the musky scent coming from the person in front of you. You wondered if the scent belong to him or Yuuji, since the body technically belonged to the latter of the two.
“Distract me, then.” you replied without thought. 
Expecting another monologue on ways he was going to murder you in cold blood, you mentally braced yourself. 
But to your surprise, he remained silent. Instead, he grabbed your chin, lifting it up to his face.
Your eyes opened blearily in an attempt to figure out what his plan was.  Focusing your blurry, spinning vision, your eyes fixated on the suspicious smirk on his face. Before you could deduce where you had seen the specific smirk- without warning, he enveloped your lips with his own. And when he finally let you breathe, your were sure your head was spinning for a different reason than before.
He held your gaze with dark eyes, making a show of licking some of your blood that had gotten on his bottom lip. The action should have disgusted you, but you could only react with a hard swallow.
You gave him a questioning look when the smirk on his face quickly morphed into a frown. It was when the black marks decorating his body began fading away, that you realized Yuuji was regaining control of his body again.
“(Y/N)-senpai, are you okay?” Yuuji’s face turned into worry after registering your current appearance. “Sukuna wasn’t the one who did this to you, was he?”
You shook your head, giving your kouhai a reassuring smile. 
“No, just the opposite actually.”
“That’s a relief!” Yuuji gave a sigh of relief, completely clueless of what had just happened.
___
It seemed Sukuna had finally come up with the best way to kill you off. 
The cause of your death; prolonged loss of breath due to kissing. Whether this method was going to be effective or not, Sukuna was definitely attempting to find out through a series of experimentations. 
The moment that Sukuna was able to take control of his host’s body, he would seek you out wherever you were on campus, and you somehow always ended up sandwiched between him and a couch, or a wall, or the floor, or a bed, etc. After a round of suffocating you with his lips, he would allow you to catch your breath for a brief moment, giving you the false hope that you could finally breathe like a normal person.  Once he deemed you had breathed enough to continue, he would attack your lips once again, repeating the cycle right until he was forced to hand the reigns of control back to Yuuji.
To say that you tried stopping him would be a blatant lie. Besides, if he was always locking lips with you during his time of control, it meant he wasn’t out somewhere on a killing spree or committing mass genocide of some kind. It was a difficult(?) sacrifice, yes, but one that you were very willing to take for the greater good.
“Mffm- Su-“ you words were again interrupted by his addicting lips. 
Before you could succumb to his temptation for the fifth time that hour, you placed your hands firmly against his cheeks, pulling them away from your face.
“Sukuna, I need to go or I’m going to miss my flight.” you tried to convince him.
But your words fell on deaf ears, as he swatted away your hands, trying to near your lips again.
“Miss it then,” he grumbled.
It took all of your willpower to back away out of his enticing reach.
“As much as we would both like me to stay,” you laughed at his scoff of denial, “my flight leaves in an hour.”
You couldn’t help but grin at him, his disgruntled look resembling somewhat of a childish pout.
“Fine then, get lost.” he griped, but didn’t make a move to get off of you.
“Is that really your parting words to me?” you jokingly frowned. “What if I die out there, Sukuna? This is your last chance to leave behind no regrets and finally confess your secret love for me.”
“I’m the one who’s going to kill you, woman. I’ll confess my undying love for you then.“ he said sarcastically.
“So you do love me.” 
“Tch.” Sukuna rolled his eyes at your cheekiness. “Just don’t get killed out there by some weak-ass curse, like last time.”
You patted his cheek gently with a grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss our date. I’m looking forward to it too much to die now.”
He sighed once again at your flirtation, now used to your teasing. He motioned to get off from you, but was stopped by a tug on his shirt. 
He raised a brow at your hand gripping down onto his clothing. “You just said you had to leave, woman. Make up your mind.”
“I guess I could catch one of the later flights.” you reasoned with a grin.
And this time you were the one reaching for his lips. 
___________________________
*(A/N): hehe, this was supposed to be angsty but then somehow it ended up like this lol. anyways, thank you for reading~ ^^
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 22 | S.R.)
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Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Things are changing for the better. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Difference, Sub Drop, vague mentions of trauma/dissociation, PTSD (mostly comfort) Word Count: 7.25k
MASTERLIST
—————————————————
The dulcet, bustling sounds of the Dulles International Airport were more soothing than I expected. Normally, the massive crowds and constant barrage of information would make my brain go into overdrive, but there was something about Spencer being there that made it all turn to white noise. If I had to guess, I would say it was the feeling of trusting someone to take care of you.
I still hadn’t gotten used to it.
“Hey, I got you something.”
Even then, when he’d approached me from behind and gingerly placed the bag on my lap, I barely even flinched. I smelled the contents of the bag before I noticed the logo or managed to open it, but once I confirmed it was what I thought it was, my eyes immediately teared up.
“Oh my god,” I keened, pulling out the familiar blue cup holding a much too sweet, much too large cinnamon bun. Although my mind was running with a million things to say to express just how appreciative I was, I took a bite out of it before I said anything else.
“I love you so much,” I mumbled around a mouth full of pastry.
Spencer tried to respond, but after one glance at me, fingers and face already covered in frosting after only a few seconds, he burst out laughing. 
“You’re a complete mess,” he chastised, trying to cluck his tongue but failing in his laughter.
I just smiled back, not even bothering with the plastic utensils and enjoying the indulgence with absolutely childlike joy. It wasn’t even just the sugar or my fingers pressing into the warm, sticky dough that made the morning seem so much better; it was the way Spencer watched me.
With one arm leaned against the chair, his whole body was turned towards me. It was clear from the slightly glassy look in his exhausted eyes that he was also stuck trying to find the right words to say to express just how grateful he was that we could still have moments like that.
Those same eyes roamed over my figure with such an overtly intimate gleam that it almost made me blush. If he’d touched me, I definitely would have. But he kept his hands to himself, and eventually, buried them into his carry-on bag. I didn’t even look at what he was doing, too lost in the sweetness of being cared for.
That foolhardy trust was a mistake. Because, it turned out, Spencer Reid was a monster.
Without any warning at all, a cold wet wipe was dragged over my cheeks. I flinched back, only to find Spencer’s hand holding onto my head and stopping me from turning away. The madman even had the audacity to smile as he gingerly wiped the frosting from my cheeks and chin. Of course, considering the fact I was thrashing wildly away from him, it ended up mostly on my lips.
“Pfftbtb! Spencer!” I spit and whined, earning confused looks from basically everyone in the vicinity. What they would find when they looked over was him in a fit of laughter, continuing to try and clean my face, which was still covered in sugary frosting despite his best efforts to remove it.
“I thought you enjoyed the taste of alcohol,” he teased.
“First of all, no one does, and second—” I started, only to be cut off with a kiss over my much too clean mouth. I smiled, but only because it used to be my move. I wondered when exactly the tables had turned, and it became his job to shut me up with a kiss.
“I know,” he whispered, licking his lips just to cringe at the taste he’d forced on me, “I’m just joking.”
I decided then that the sight and shared disgust for ethyl alcohol were enough for me to forgive him for the time being. I let him clean the rest of the evidence of my greed from my face but decided to clean my fingers myself. I popped each one into my mouth in what I’d imagined was a very non-sexual manner, but Spencer still seemed to enjoy watching me as each digit was cleaned. Granted, he handed me another wipe seconds later. Damn germaphobe. Like he didn’t shove his tongue in my mouth on a daily basis.
The rest of the treat was shared between us, with utensils this time, in a relative quiet. Brief giggles or sighs were all there was to be said. Once there was nothing left to fixate on, I was left only with my thoughts and Spencer’s eyes that still watched me like a horribly affectionate hawk.
“I’m really sorry,” I mumbled without realizing. I’d almost hoped he wouldn’t even hear it, or let it go without a conversation, but of course, he couldn’t do that.
“For what?”
“For making you do all of this,” I explained with a heavy sigh, “I feel like a big baby.”
Spencer’s hands came to brush away the stray strands of hairs from my face. They weren’t actually in the way of anything; I think he just wanted to make a better view. That alone was enough to make me smile, but that only seemed to make him feel guilty.
“Don’t apologize for this. This is my fault,” he said just as quietly. I mirrored his motion, running my fingers through his hair and watching as his mouth dropped open in a pleased smile.
“No, it’s not. You’re wonderful,” I said through my own. It was only a little bit sadder than his, but wasn’t that usually the case? I could only imagine what would happen the day we were both overflowing with nothing but joy. Before, that thought might lead me back to the bank, the place that ended our last purely happy encounter, but…
I looked at Spencer, with his mouth still slightly open and his head lolling back and forth with the little weight of my hand, and I couldn’t bring myself to think of anything bad. So I just thought of the picnic, instead. I thought of him licking my hand as we rolled in grass, and of his own hands working through my hair to make it into something besides a mess on my head.
I looked at Spencer, and I saw beautiful things. And the longer I played with his hair, the more relaxed and content he became. Of course, I would never be satisfied. His smile was the most beautiful thing to see, and I needed it to deal with the guilt still sitting like rocks in my stomach.
“Besides, it’ll be so much easier putting down my work and actually getting sleep when you’re waiting for me,” Spencer slurred, his neck relaxing to drop the weight of his head against my palm.
“I hope not too easy. The world needs you, Dr. Reid,” I kindly reminded.
His eyes fluttered open, trapping me in dark honey irises filled with pure adoration. “You need me, too,” he whispered.
“Arrogant bastard.”
Naturally, he took it as a compliment, his smile growing into a smirk as he answered, “A little bit.”
He should have known better than to give me that look, though, because within seconds my hands fell from his hair. A small whimper came from the pitiful man at the loss. It was quickly followed by a sharp inhale when my hand grabbed his thigh.
“You think I’ll actually let you sleep?” I whispered.
Aside from the obviously tense quadriceps beneath my palms, Spencer showed very little response to my suggestion. Well, rather, he showed little arousal to it. There was a reaction— just not the one I expected.
He looked... nervous.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about that...”
“What?” I shot back immediately, my hands withdrawing and tugging on my shirt while I instinctively tried to hide from him. I was trying to look less guilty, but I was acutely aware that my actions screamed the opposite. So, I tried to combat my obvious anxiety with a voice that was far louder than it needed to be. “I swear I’m on all my medications. I haven’t missed a single therapy appointment, either!”
Spencer’s hands were gentle and cautious when they came to my wrists, gently pulling them away from my chest. “I know. I trust you,” he said with a sad but still genuine smile, “I just wanted to ask you how you wanted to handle this.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine.” The words tumbled out of me in the least convincing manner. Spencer was too smart to fall for them, although I could see a playfulness bloom through his features.
“No offense, but you just cried over a cinnamon bun,” he said, unable to stop a few chuckles from mixing with the words.
“It was just really good, okay?” I scoffed, tearing my hands away from him and feigning offense despite his little disclaimer. From there, I sank down in the shitty airport chair and refused to look up at him. I could still feel his cheeky, arrogant little grin watching me.
Eventually, after I thought we’d suffered enough and I could already feel my legs going numb, I weakly conceded, “Fine. What are my options?”
“Well, basically anything. But the main thing to consider is...”
He paused. It was one of the sure signs that he was taking the situation very seriously. Usually, he would just spout out whatever came to mind and sort out the details later. But this time, he spoke slowly and purposefully. “Majority of our relationship has been based on physicality. Whether it was sex or healing or hurting and I... I want to give you the option to not do that. At least, not for a little while.”
A feeling of dread filled my blood that I could suddenly hear rushing through my ears. I didn’t tell my heart to beat faster, but it did. My hands that had once again crossed over my chest suddenly itched to hold him.
“Why would I not want to?” I asked, fiddling with the buttons on my shirt and occasionally glancing up at him only to realize that he wasn’t looking at me, either. I tried not to read into it. After all, he was the profiler— not me.
“It’s not a matter of avoiding it. I just need you to know it’s not expected of you.”
Without shifting my body at all, my eyes were glued to him. The strain of the angle and the sound of those words caused them to burn, but I refused to let tears fall again. He wasn’t rejecting me, right? He was telling me that he loved me. There was no reason to be scared.
I wasn’t used to that yet, either. But I wanted to be. And judging by the way his hand cupped my face and guided it back to his, I think Spencer felt those anxieties. He tried to will them away by pressing his forehead against mine and letting his thumb ghost over flushed cheeks.
“Don’t be scared. I just need you to know that we don’t have to have sex for you to be worth my time and attention.”
The tears grew bigger under his scrutiny, but they didn’t fall until he closed his eyes. I think that was why he did.
“I love you,” he assured me with a whisper, “I’m not going to deny you affection or intimacy if that’s what you want. I just need you to know that it is always an option.”
Normally when Spencer pulled away, the air felt cold in his absence. For so long, my body had felt lonelier and less than without him. But in that busy, bustling airport, I felt just as loved even when his hands fell away and he sat back up in his chair.
For those who might’ve been watching, they would just see two lovesick idiots whispering sweet nothings in a flagrantly public display of affection. They wouldn’t have heard the weight of the words or felt the way my perception of the whole world shifted from them.
Spencer smiled again, still nervous, but also clear and authentic.
“I’m sorry,” he told me with his eyes fixated on my hands in my lap. He made no move to hold it, although I could tell he wanted to. I suspect he wanted me to focus on the words, so I tried my hardest. I almost asked him what he was sorry for, but he answered first, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that before.”
A lump quickly formed in my throat that I tried to swallow. When that failed, and I felt the telltale signs of tears filling the sides of my eyes, I did the only thing I could think of to hide. I threw my arms around the only thing that never failed to make them better. I buried my face in Spencer’s neck and laughed along with him as my eyelashes and breath tickled the soft skin.
After a brief second of listening to our hearts settle into a matching rhythm and letting our body heat sink into the clothes between us, Spencer groaned, “How are you still sticky?”
—————————————————
A couple weeks prior, the thought of being alone in a hotel room waiting on Spencer to finish work for the day would have instilled the fear of God in me. I would have done just about anything to avoid the exact situation I found myself in now.
But honestly? It wasn’t all that bad. It was the perfect opportunity for me to force myself to slow down. Granted, that mostly just meant that I would watch bad TV in a bathrobe with overpriced food, but... like they say, change is as good as a rest.
The hardest part about it was actually just convincing myself that I deserved the rest. While I was taking naps and trying to do anything to unwind, I knew what Spencer was doing.
Well, I had some idea of what he was doing. Reality was probably worse than my imagination— it usually was with his job. At first, I had let that guilt get in the way, but at some point over the nine hours, I realized that I would have to find a way to cheer myself up. Because as soon as I heard that small beep of the keycard, I would have to find a way to remind him of all the beautiful things in the world.
No pressure, right?
The sun had already started to set, and I hadn’t heard from him in hours. We’d started the day out with a constant line of contact, but over time he became too busy. Which, again, just meant that I would have to work even harder when he finally arrived.
Luckily for me, by the time Spencer had arrived, there was no need for a pep talk or acting of any kind. My heart immediately started to race the second I heard his voice down the hall. I had already bolted from the bed and positioned myself just far enough from the door that I could jump forward the second it opened far enough to fit me.
And when it did, I pounced.  
“Spencer!” I cheered, throwing myself into his arms that had fully been expecting me. Still, the two of us crashed back against the frame and I heard the breath be knocked out of him from the impact.
“Hey, little girl,” he managed to laugh with empty lungs that made it impossible to forget how tired he was. His arm eventually settled at my lower back, lifting me slightly so he could move us from the door’s path. But when we were out of harm’s way and the latch clicked softly in place, Spencer didn’t let me go. In fact, he tossed his bag into the chair at the desk and wrapped his other arm around me, too.
“How was work?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
“You know...” he muttered with a crackling voice, “awful.”
If that hadn’t given it away, the way he buried his face in my neck certainly did. His hands were even more insistent, pressing into my back as he led us both to the bed.
I had to laugh, though, as the realization dawned on him that he’d have to let go of me if he didn’t want to track filthy shoes in our bed. A heavy sigh fell from his lips when he finally released me, practically throwing me onto the terrible mattress before taking his seat next to me.
“I missed you,” I announced in the ambient noise of the cheapest hotel that the government could justify using.  
Spencer looked up at me, but the words took a little longer to register. I could only imagine how busy his mind must’ve been, and the guilt quickly came creeping back.
“I missed you, too,” he returned, albeit with a tint of sadness in his tone. But the longer we stayed there, the calmer he seemed. It was such a powerful effect of our proximity that by the time he did lay down next to me, he seemed like the man that had wiped frosting from my face in the middle of a busy airport.
Spencer must have noticed the shift, too, because no sooner had his head hit the pillow than he had flipped over, throwing his leg over me to pin me down against the bed.
My initial reaction was to keep laughing, but the noises were muffled by the persistent kisses he gave. They started at my cheeks and over the bridge of my nose but landed on my lips. I felt the tension leave his shoulders as he lowered more of his body weight against me, and I reveled in the feeling of his presence.
“God, I needed this,” he growled just before his tongue slipped into my mouth.
Everything we’d talked about at the airport felt a lifetime away, and as soon as I felt his erection pressing hard against my thigh, I only had one goal in mind. I forced my hands between us, trying to remove his tie with the hope that it would shed some of the thoughts he’d brought back from work.
But then it all stopped. Spencer had pulled away, grabbing onto my wrist and pinning it to the bed beside me once more.
“No, we don’t need to do that. I just wanted to kiss you,” he panted through heavy breath and swollen lips. I couldn’t stop staring at them long enough to answer, but it was clear from the look on his face that any plea I gave would be for naught, anyway. “I’m honestly way too exhausted to give you the attention you deserve.”
I believed him. Even when he hadn’t slept for nearly two days, he still looked livelier then. I had a sneaking suspicion that it had less to do with sleep and more to do with emotions. I wanted to help him with that, too, like he did for me, but I didn’t know how. So, I did the only thing I did know how to do well, which was to place a soft peck against his lips until they turned up into another smile.
“Get some rest, old man,” I murmured, “I’ll be here to kiss again when you wake up.”
“Let me hold you,” he answered immediately, nuzzling his face against my neck like a puppy seeking any shred of attention. I couldn’t tell if I was laughing because of the way his hair tickled or because it was so strange to see him so vulnerable while still in dominant, albeit disheveled, work clothes.
“Fine. Only because you asked nicely.”
Continuing the trend of being remarkably adorable, Spencer giggled as he rolled onto his side. I was almost tempted to turn towards him, but he had already wrapped his arms around me before I could decide. He pulled me as close as he could before his lips once again settled against the column of my throat.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he stated absently. It was so quiet that I’m not sure he’d actually planned on me hearing it. But when I reached a hand up to run through his hair, he spoke with a shaky, relieved whine, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
A gentle, warm exhale breezed over my skin as he continued, “I love you so much.”
From that point, any words he might’ve whispered were muffled through sloppy, sleepy kisses over my neck and shoulder. His hands, though slow, were still rough and purposeful as they pawed at me in a way that was only vaguely sexual. It was more like he was trying to prove to himself that he was actually here with me, and my breasts just happened to be the first thing he could grab.
That still didn’t stop my mind from running wild. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I focused on the way his breath felt against areas still wet from his kisses. And when I arched my back, I felt his hips press harder.
Eventually, when I could trust myself to speak without whimpering, I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to...”
I peeked back at him before continuing, having noticed a lull in his kisses. Sure enough, Spencer was fast asleep, his lips still attached to my shoulder. I had to chuckle at the sight, but my heart did hurt for him. I couldn’t imagine how tired he must have been to fall asleep then, and still in his clothes, much less.
The guilt over being the main cause of his tiredness was enough to keep me still for at least two hours. I spent that time slowly inching to a more comfortable position, only to be squished seconds later by Spencer. Even in his sleep, it seemed he was terrified of the prospect of me slipping from his arms. He was just being dramatic, though. It’s not like I had anywhere to go.
Wait, that sounded wrong. Truthfully, there were many places I could go, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay with Spencer, tangled in his long limbs and tickled by his hair that had grown long enough to gracelessly flop onto my face regardless of position.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to leave at all.
But I did. Inch by inch, I carefully slipped from Spencer’s arms. Against all odds, I managed to maneuver through the death grip he had on me and plop down on the ground beside the bed. My mind found that to be the perfect time to recall the lecture he’d given me about how suitcases, and more specifically, their wheels, were the most dangerous bacteria-laden aspects of traveling, but I dismissed the thought shortly after I stood again.
I didn’t want to leave Spencer’s embrace. I’m not really sure why I did. There wasn’t even really a particularly angsty reasoning for it. I just had this feeling, this tingling on my skin and a weight in my stomach that told me I was meant to be doing something different.
The only problem was that I had literally no idea what the fuck that something different was.
So, naturally, I did what every young child does when their parents had grown tired of their restless children jumping on the hotel bed. I grabbed the keycard and the ice bucket and set out on a very thrilling journey to find the vending room. The first part was the hardest. It was shutting the door to return the room to darkness, knowing that Spencer was alone in bed.
It was hard, but it wasn’t impossible. I slipped from the room into the horrible yellow lighting of the halls with the dizzying wallpaper and patterned carpet without another thought. I’d hoped that the walk might bring me answers to the mood I was currently wrestling with, but I was wrong. Because it basically only took me three doors to find the room that I was looking for.
Great.
I threw the door open haphazardly, actually contemplating grabbing the ice and returning to bed no wiser than I had left it. But when the door swung shut behind me, the humming from the machines bled into my brain and started to cover all the other thoughts. It was warmer than my room, as well as smaller and quieter. Of course, it was also remarkably less private, but it was also like 2am. If someone came in to find a strange girl sitting on the floor next to the ice machine, that was their own fault.
In a strange way, it was the most peaceful I’d been in a long time. As much as I loved being with Spencer, these circumstances made it hard for me to not feel like I didn’t belong. Probably because I didn’t. He was here on work, a life that he’d tried very hard to keep away from me. I didn’t blame him for that, either. I was sure he’d gotten a number of questions from Morgan and Garcia about my presence, but he hadn’t shared them with me. I’d even asked him, just so I could concoct my own retaliatory questions for the nosiest of them, but he just laughed the question away.
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just the realization that Spencer had a life of his own and I was just starting to see it for the first time. I was learning so much about him and honestly… None of it was bad. Most of it was just downright silly. Things like prank wars and physics magic and careful, chemistry-based improvements to shitty coffee. I was just too busy realizing that I was falling even more in love with Spencer to notice anything else.
Including, apparently, the sound of the door to the room opening. Trust me when I say that was saying a lot; the presence of Aaron Hotchner was not easy to miss.
“Can I join you?” His voice filled the room despite its low volume, and I followed the sound with a small smile that grew at the sight of him in casual clothing. It wasn’t something that happened often, but it sure did make him less intimidating than our previous encounters.
“Sure,” I said as I pulled the still-empty ice bucket into my lap. Once he took his seat beside me, I rolled my head toward him to try and figure out what exactly he had planned. But after another few seconds of silence, I realized that he was doing the same thing I was.
Improvising.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” I asked, insistent that it wasn’t my job in this scenario to come up with the advice.
Hotch seemed equally lost, and with a slight shake of his head, he explained, “I only heard the door open once. Figured it was worth a trip to get some ice to check.”
He held up his matching ice bucket, to which I lifted mine to knock together like the worst kind of toast. It at least succeeded in making him laugh, although the sound was short-lived. We both recognized the shoddy attempt at humor was just masking the things I didn’t want to talk about.
“Why can’t you sleep?”
He had never really been a beat-around-the-bush sort of guy.
“Freakin’ profilers,” I affectionately muttered back, which only earned me a playful warning glance that I, for once, didn’t choose to ignore. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s probably the 3-hour nap I took when we got here.”
Then, deciding that still didn’t describe the situation well enough, I tagged on, “You know, while you all were working and saving the world and what not.”
Unfortunately, I’d forgotten the cardinal rule of the BAU: Do not ever speak poorly about yourself. Not even an implication.
“Rest is important. No reason for you to suffer for us,” he returned without pause.
“You sound like Spencer,” I said through a half-hearted laugh.  
Hotch shared my laughter, causing them both to grow in volume as he snarkily replied, “And who do you think taught him?”
“Right. Sorry.” I held my hands up in surrender, but we both knew it would be harder than that.
But that was okay. He came prepared.
“So, what else is wrong?”
“So persistent, you lot,” I chuckled. I half expected him to let it go, but he just turned to stare at me with that usually stoic face contorted with an obvious reprimand. I swear, I didn’t even realize his eyebrows could move that far. But there were, raised up his forehead as his cheeks dimpled from his little, knowing smirk.
“I don’t know,” I sighed, “Just thinking about things and I was scared I would wake up Spencer. Like he would feel my anxiety in his sleep.”
“What’s making you anxious?”
I paused. For a moment, I thought about lying. Not the kind of transparent lie that you do when you say that everything is fine. The kind of lie that also contained the truth. There were many things that had happened lately that would explain my anxiety, and they would be believable enough because I did still feel them.
“Everything. You know. The usual,” I said softly, attempting to stall.
Because that wasn’t what the problem was that day. The problems that day were… complicated in a different way than the usual angst. So, I let the thoughts marinate for a moment, considering the different outcomes and deciding which I really wanted.
I hadn’t let myself want things in a while. Maybe that realization was why I decided to just tell him the truth, despite how embarrassing it felt.
“It’s not bad anxiety, necessarily. It’s just this realization that… I don’t know.”
“Take a guess,” he pressed, feeling the hesitance as I stood at the brink of what I really wanted to say. The real answer to why I was sitting on the floor of an ice machine vending room with my boyfriend’s boss, who also happened to be our shared adoptive father figure.
I took a deep breath, clutching onto the ice bucket so tightly that my knuckles blanched and the edges imprinted on my hand until I blurted out, “That I think I’m ready for something else. Something more.”
We both stopped then, enjoying the noises of machinery and the barely-there echo of my words.
“Something more, huh?” he repeated more clearly.
I didn’t appreciate the way the words were practically sung through a clever grin, and before he could take that train of thought any further, I stopped him with an answer too loud to not be deemed defensive.
“Not like that! Not like, let’s run off and elope and have lots of babies tomorrow!“ He didn’t look convinced, so I continued with a much more believable promise. “Don’t worry, I’m not sniping your genius.”
“Thank goodness,” he replied sarcastically. I appreciated his ability to keep things lighthearted, and for a second I did have to laugh at the fact he was such a different person when he wasn’t at work. He must’ve taught Spencer more than I realized. And, in turn, Spencer was teaching me. I just wasn’t sure when the lesson would be over, or if it had already ended.
“I’ve just held onto my independence and this… heavy bullshit for so long, and I’m a little worried about what that means,” I thought aloud.
Again, Hotch had read my mind, or at least, my body language, and demanded the answer he saw written across my features. “What do you think it means?”
“Do you always give fatherly advice like this to whiny girls in ice machine rooms?” I shot back with my first attempt at a glare. It only lasted until he flashed me a toothy smile and his own clever retort.
“No. Now answer the question.”
“I had to try,” I grumbled, only to be shut down again in an instant.
“I’ll forgive you when you answer.”
With a begrudging sigh, I tried to do what he asked. But I only barely got through one word before they turned to a lump in my throat. I choked on the words strongly enough that tears I hadn’t anticipated began pooling on my eyelashes. The power of a profiler, I guess, to know I was on the verge of an emotional catharsis before I did.
“I know we all change. I know that no one stays the same. We all go through things and they change who we are. And that can be good, right? But…”
Once the words started, they wouldn’t stop, turning and tumbling from clumsy lips still chapped from incessant biting. But teeth and willpower couldn’t stop the feelings that caused them, and if Spencer had taught me anything, he’d taught me that speaking a feeling into existence was half of the battle to let it go.
“But sometimes it’s gotta just be bad, right? Like, we’ve got to acknowledge that sometimes we change in an irreparable way that’s just bad for no reason.”
“Right,” he very eloquently returned. Normally, I would have bullied him for giving such a simple response to such a complex question, but at that moment I was just grateful that I could continue. Heaven knows Spencer wouldn’t have let me.
“So, what if that happened to me? What if one day I wake up and finally find out the answer to the question I’ve been asking myself?”
When I turned to the man then, I saw a genuine confusion for the first time that night. I couldn’t tell you where I’d lost him, but it was clear that he heard something in me that alerted him that some deeper rooted issues were just now finding the light of day.
Of course, in this situation, it was really just a flickering fluorescent bulb.
“What question is that?” he whispered, like his voice would intrude in the thoughts.
But the truth was they didn’t feel like they belonged to me, either. That was the problem. I’d spent so long with memories that felt like a dream. I saw them playback when I closed my eyes, just to open them and find the same images reflecting in Spencer’s. I knew they were real because they were written into my skin, yet my mind rioted against them so hard that instead, I just started to think that this body wasn’t mine, either.
“How much of me died that day?”
The question sat with us, taking form in the reflection on the metallic surface that hummed a somehow somber tune. And even though I knew I was looking at myself, it didn’t feel that way. When I saw Hotch move in the background, I turned to him just in time to feel his hand resting over mine on the metal pail in my hands.
“Can I tell you what I think?” he offered.
“I’d like that.”
I felt the warmth flow through him, bringing life back into a hand that suddenly started to feel like me again. His voice shared the same rejuvenating quality as he quietly but confidently answered, “I think… it’s much less than you think.”
As tears slid down my face, they felt less like the beginning of a downpour and more like the drizzle that follows the storm. I let them fall without wiping them away, hoping that as they fell away, they would take the fear with them.
After they did drip from my jaw, I laughed. I couldn’t hold it in because it seemed so silly how much lighter I felt after losing just a few droplets of saline. But, realistically, I knew it had more to do with his hand still holding mine.
I dropped my head to his shoulder, selfishly stealing his body warmth as I croaked, “Thanks for talking to me. I know I must sound like a stupid kid to you sometimes.”
“Not at all,” he said with that tone that was difficult to discount, “You sound just like you should.”
“Can I tell you something now?” I asked between sniffles.
“I’d like that,” he mirrored.
“You’re like… a really good dad.”
It was his turn to shed tears, then, which he did. They were much manlier and less silly than mine, but they were there. I almost accused him of creating them just to make me feel less embarrassed, but before I could, he’d enveloped me in a hug that was way too genuine to question it.
As I hugged him back, I realized just how badly I’d missed moments like this. I’d fooled myself into really believing that loneliness and independence were the same things for so long that when I was granted the support all human beings need, I didn’t know how to respond.
But that was the beauty of family, right? You don’t have to try to earn their love. They already thought you were worthy.
So I hugged him harder, ignoring the clanking of the machines and the sounds of crowds of people stumbling back from bars in the hall that could walk in any moment. I wasn’t embarrassed to be sad anymore. I was just a person. It happens sometimes.
“Speaking of, it’s well past your bedtime,” Hotch said finally, gracelessly shattering the moment in a very dad-like fashion.
“I walked into that one.”
Following that trend, he continued with a gentle bump of his shoulder against me, “If you don’t want to go yet, you can talk to me about that something more.”
I practically shoved him off me, huffing between chuckles and shaking my head in the hope that he wouldn’t notice how it flushed.
“Please. Spencer talks about that stuff, but he’s all talk.”
At first, Hotch just nodded. But after a few wayward glances, he confessed, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
That time the warmth I felt came from within, carried by butterflies that had burst in my stomach at the thought. I almost asked him what he meant, but then felt the familiar, creeping embarrassment that came along with loving someone a little too much.
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.
I knew he was reading my expressions, but I couldn’t hide the smile, no matter how hard I tried. He still had the decency to ignore my blatant displays of excitement, instead asking the question we both knew the answer to already.
“Is that something you’d want?”
“I…” Such a simple syllable still seemed like too much, and I stuttered it a few more times before I landed on an answer that wasn’t too humiliating. “I guess he’ll have to ask and find out.”
“I hope it turns out well when he does,” he said, pausing to correct with a sarcastic, “Sorry. If he does.”
“Yeah, me too,” I sighed heavily. It was a last ditch effort to hide the way my cheeks were still stuck in a full-faced smile. I turned to see him with a very similar expression.
I knew just how to change that. When he stood up and offered me a hand, I took it and let him do half the work for me. But once we were on equal footing, I placed my hand on his shoulder with a complacent pat.
“You know, if it doesn’t turn out well, you’ll have to figure out how to comfort the both of us.”
“The horror,” he jokingly cringed with a shake of his head.
I almost left then, but thankfully he’d remembered the actual purpose for the room we’d had our impromptu surrogate-father-daughter moment in. He grabbed my ice pail from my hand and dropped it under the dispenser without saying anything else, letting the chaotic crunching signal the real end of the moment.
Once it was over, I looked down at the now freezing bucket in my hands that suddenly felt warm. Then I looked back up at him and saw a pride that I wasn’t expecting.
“Goodnight, Aaron,” I said as the last remaining bit of tension fell from my shoulders.
“Goodnight,” he answered, opening the door and watching as I padded down the hall. He waited until I slipped back into my room before his door clicked shut, and mine quickly followed.
That tiny sound was just enough to wake the man in the bed, and when I turned to him, the sight took my breath away. Because there was Spencer, the man I loved, reaching his arms out into the darkness and grabbing the empty air as he whined, begging me to come to him faster.
And I did. Tossing the bucket onto the table, I rushed over to him and threw myself into the bed beside him without any grace. With a similar restlessness, Spencer wound his arms around me as soon as I was within his reach, pulling me as close as he could without sacrificing all the air in my lungs.
“I missed you,” he mumbled against my hair.
“Don’t worry. I’m back,” I whispered back. The words were lost in his shirt, but he somehow heard them well enough to ask, “Where did you go?”
I didn’t know how exactly to describe what had happened, so I told one of those lies I’d contemplated earlier. “To get ice,” I said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It was just a very inefficient summary.
Spencer didn’t care, either. In fact, he giggled at the thought, nuzzling his face down into my neck and tickling me with his lips as he mumbled, “Let me warm you up.”
It did succeed in warming me up, but only because it turned into a fit of giggles and more intense tickling. His fingers danced along my sides and his whispers turned back to the same kisses that we’d started the night with.
But it couldn’t last forever. The poor guy still had only had a couple hours of sleep, and I felt the excitement wear off all at once, leaving him only half-awake on the pillow beside me. He still found the energy to look at me like there were stars in my eyes.
“Where did you really go?” he asked again, dragging his hand over my cheek like he could see the tears I’d shed just a few moments before.
“Just ice. I promise,” I answered, ending the thought with a quick kiss on his palm. When I could tell that he didn’t believe that, I brought my hands up to his face as I snickered, “See? Cold hands.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he just leaned forward, letting our noses touch and pulling me in to him again. His eyes fluttered shut, and I could almost see the way his body started to return to sleep as he barely muttered, “No cold feet, though?”
It took me a moment to register the words, and once I did, I still couldn’t believe them.
“Cold feet for what?” I whispered back.
Spencer’s answer only came in the form of a dreamy laugh. He didn’t open his eyes again, instead choosing to drop his face back into my shoulder just like he had before. This time there were even fewer kisses against my neck before he went still again.
Once again, I was left with my thoughts. Only this time they weren’t scary. Because marrying Spencer Reid was not the worst thing to imagine by far. In fact, there were very few things I’d ever wanted more.
—————————————————
| Part 23 |
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waywardtakami · 3 years
Text
- don't leave me
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✦pairing: hawks x gn!reader
✦c/w: language, slight mha manga spoilers, 16+ only , angst
✦a/n: hello!! I'm very excited about this fic, it's my first gn one! It's been sitting in my wips for so long and I'm finally happy with it. hopefully people will still read this without there being smut. thank you! <3
✦summary: hawks gets hurt during a mission...
✦w/c: 2k
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Keigo had left you again to fight in another mission. He had only been gone for a few days, but you wished he was with you instead. You missed him so much. He hadn't been physically by your side in so long, causing your heart to ache again. Times like these were practically torture. Waking up without him by your side was agonizing, but you were used to it.
His job was all-consuming and you knew him being away for large amounts of time would affect you when you committed yourself to this relationship. There was a constant worry for his life and maybe a little for your own. 
You and Kei decided to keep your relationship as private as possible so no one would go after you. He didn't want anyone to kidnap or hurt you. 
Even though his musk scent was flooded throughout your shared home, you still tried distracting yourself the best you could.
After making your favorite food, you plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV to try and take your mind off him. 
As the TV flickered on, your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. A gruff voice played over what was being shown. You assumed it was just something about his stats or a recent interview per usual. It didn't help the feeling in your heart subside by seeing him.
You changed the channel, again and again. But every channel had been taken over by the same broadcast. You eventually fixated and listened.
Your heart dropped.
Hawks had been accused of murder. 
"Murder...?" you mumbled to yourself. "No..he...what?" Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to thump out of your chest. You were stuck in a pool of emotions of confusion and immense shock, it was like your head was on fire. 
Dabi...one of the League of Villain members was behind this. All the information you received was from Keigo's colleagues and the media. 
Keigo had been hurt bad...real bad.
The fact that you couldn't do anything about it had you overwhelmed and panicked. When you finally found out which hospital he was brought to through FatGum, you drove yourself there.
Of course he was brought to one one of the furthest ones from where you guys lived. On top of that, traffic was horrendous. With everything that had gone down, the citizens of the city were frantic and trying to get home to their families.
Your hands and entire body practically trembled while driving. Your eyes pricked with tears at the thought of Keigo's wounded state. "He's fine he's fine he's FINE!" You kept telling yourself over and over. 
When you made it to the hospital, there was a large number of people in the waiting room. The sounds of people clamoring in and trying to get a room were deafening. You hurried over to the front desk. 
"Hello Ma'am I need to see Hawks, he should be here." She wouldn't let you in his room. You wanted to see him, no you needed to see him. You started crying, pleading, begging for her to let you go in his room. But the front desk lady apologized and insisted he needed to rest and isn't accepting visitors. 
You knew it was really because she probably thought you were just some fan of his. Or maybe even a reporter trying to sneak in photos. But no, you were his baby, his life, and they weren't going to let you in.
"I'M HIS DAMN PARTNER FOR GOD SAKES!" You yell while slamming your fist against the counter. You didn't realize how much impact you put into your fist until you felt pain in your hand. The waiting room goes almost quiet and heads turn to look at you. You glance back to see all the faces turned to you. 
Your voice softens from embarrassment. "Please...just let me see him." Your fist still against the counter looking at the nurse with tears streaming down your face. 
She stands up and moves closer, "I'm so sorry, I believe you…" She slides a clip board with a few papers attached. "...but we can't let you in just yet he's still recovering from his injuries, he needs to rest right now. Please fill these out while you wait." She looks back up with you with a faint smile. She really does believe you. She can see it in your eyes, the pain, she understood.
You release your hand, and pick up the clipboard. Looking at her on the other side of the counter you give her a face flustered nod and mouth a quick "thank you."
You go sit down comfortably in one of the empty chairs to wait for keigo to wake up...
The news of your wounded boyfriend was already half across Japan. After filling out the forms you scroll through your phone to calm yourself down. You kept seeing post after post about him. Almost all news headlines had his name. 
You think to yourself about how much of it is all bullshit and that he's fine. Deep down you weren't sure if the words your brain kept telling you were true. You click on one of the posts about him that reads: 
"THE NUMBER TWO PRO HERO DEAD" 
Your heart skips a beat, but quickly you realize it's just a fake. You scroll through, lightly skimming the bullcrap you were reading. You scroll and see a photo taken of him the night he was brought to the hospital. You wonder how the press even got a photo of him. You focus on the photo, he does look dead. It only showed his upper body, completely covered in burns. More tears forming at the corners of your eyes just seeing him in the photo. Oh and his wings, his big bright vermilion wings...gone.
You were a complete mess at this point but your sniffles and choked sobs were interrupted by the front desk lady waving to you. "He's awake." 
Quickly following her into the room you see him. As you stand in the doorway for a moment, your heart sinks. You hurry to him. He had bandages wrapped around his head. His hair was short and mostly singed off. And his wings...they really were gone. "I'll leave you two alone," the nurse walks out and closes the door behind her.
You turn back to him.
"Kei?" you whimpered out.
His half lidded eyes look at you. His formerly bright, charming and yellow pupils have become dark and filled with anguish. He was wearing a mask over his nose and mouth with two tubes coming from the sides of it. He couldn't speak or breath himself, due to his throat being burned. 
Of course he knew it was you. Tears welled up deep inside and coursed down his cheeks. Seeing him like this had your body nauseas. You move to cup your hand on his face, feeling the material of his mask rather than his soft subtle skin. You graze your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe away his tears.
You pick up one of his hands to hold it in yours. "Kei….I'm so glad you're okay." You were sniffling through each word. He slowly raises his arm to point to the phone sitting on the table near his hospital bed. Handing it to him, you watch as his calloused fingers type out what he wants to say. 
"Angel, I've missed you so much, please never leave my side." You faintly smile at him, wishing you could hear those words come from his mouth and not the AI voice. 
"I won't leave you Keigo, I'm here, I won't go anywhere."
He types again. "I'm pretty beat up, but I think I'll make it."
Your ears focus on "think" for a moment. "Yes Kei you'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay. You felt a bit better being in his presence but you still couldn't bear the sight of him. Your eyes began to prick with tears once again and this time Kei was the one who bought his hand up to brush your tears away just like you did moments ago. 
You try your best to wrap your arms around him without causing him anymore pain. You could feel him wince when you laid your head against his chest. "Sorry Kei I didn't mean to hur-" He waves his hand and shakes his head, signaling that it's okay.
Your body looked calm despite how tangled your mind was.There were many questions that flooded your mind. So many things you wanted to say. But you could worry about the details later. Right now you were finally with him again, there was no way you were letting him leave you ever again.
You were bent over, upper body on top of him at an awkward position. You didn't want to hurt him, so this had to work.
Despite the position, you took in the moment with your boyfriend. Feeling his chest slowly rise up and down. You close your eyes and imagine you were back home with him in bed. Just snuggling on a weekend afternoon, light shining in on him making his wings light up beautifully against the sun. His golden locks and glowing skin, his scent washing over your senses. Your warm bodies practically glued together. You wanted that again, you wanted everything back to normal.
He moved one of his scarred hands to your back, slowly rubbing up and down. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He was fighting so hard on the inside. So damn hard...for you. He didn't want to leave you, he couldn't. His mind wandered about the life he had planned to have with you.
He faintly smiled under the mask when he imagined you walking down the aisle...holding your first child...sitting in little rocking chairs growing old together. That's all he wanted.
Both of your tears never stopped. You were both silent. The only sounds to be heard were each other's quiet sniffles and the monitor Keigo was attached to, making a faint beep to his heart beat. Still laying on his chest, his breathing started to slow and so did the beeping, being lost in the moment you didn't notice really but he knew.
He waved his hand signaling for you to stand up and brought his hand to take off his mask. He couldn't hold on much longer. Every aching pain inside him felt like knives stabbing his insides and with each stab more time from his life was taken.
"Kei, you need to keep it on to breath, please." He shakes his head and takes it off anyways. The beeping still started to slow. The mask hung off the side of his face. His honeyed voice now husk from the burns. 
"Baby...I love you so...so.." He coughs making him hiss at the pain.
"No..fuck..Kei stop, you're going to be okay just put the damn mask on." 
"I'm too..far..gone, I have no more fight left." 
Holding his jaw in your hands,your face inches from him. "No you have to stay strong for me, please don't leave me again, I can't do this without you." 
"Kid...please...when I'm gone...find someone else and-
"NO- I ONLY WANT YOU!" You cry out, holding his head to your chest. Long-lasting sobs leaving your mouth.
"I love...you" His breathing is heavy from trying to speak. He needed to tell you this. He needed you to understand how much he loves you.
Moving his head from your chest. "I love you too...kiego." You manage to say through your choked sobs. 
You move to have your lips brush his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin. He closes his eyes and connects his lips to yours. It was deep and passionate, like you were kissing him for the first time. You held one side of his face with one hand, and held his hand with the other. 
But when you pull away, his eyes don't open. It's like that's all he wanted, no needed. One last kiss, one last touch. To feel you. 
His breathing completely slows, and you're left with the prolonged beep of the monitor. He was gone. The man who was always too fast for his own good, had left you and the world too fast.
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✶tag list: @levithestripper @sleepysnk @conniesspringersgf @regretfulfairies @miyanom @sashatotie @romeoandjuliet96 @strawberry-pp @megvmi-s @cinnamonnn-roll @gooddayzarerare @kkodzvken
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mxvladdy · 4 years
Note
i have an angst request, i guess??
could you imagine the reaction when MC and a brother are cuddling, being real sweet and tender, rubbing sensitive bits of skin ect.
MC stares off for a bit and the brother thinks they’re being nostalgic but when they ask what they’re thinking about 😘 MC just says “oh? i’m just remembering that i’m a potential food source for you guys 🙃“
~My first request! Yay!~
I hope you like it. I just picked just 3 brothers that I thought would be fun. But if you want more lemme know!
Lucifer
Quality time with him is rare. He's a busy demon after all.
But after an unsightly incident a few years back he has been trying to take some time out of the day for himself. It is also the perfect excuse to have some quality time alone with you.
He likes to have you sitting on top of him while he lounges. Your weight and heartbeat were soothing. A living noisemaker.
It has become a routine now. You come and rest with him and enjoy each other's company.
This time you were a little distant. Your eyes constantly track the motions and actions of his mouth. You seem fixated on every little thing he does. From a sip of his drink to the way he scowls while reading the evening news. You’re mesmerized by something.
He takes it as you reliving the taste and feel of his lips on yours. He'd be happy to give you a reenactment. But, when he leans in for a kiss, he senses...fear?
No. Surely you had gotten over that little mortal hurdle. For all things unholy, he hasn't even threatened you in over a year.
He'll pry, demanding a reason for your sudden apprehension. If anything to mask his own fear with righteous indignation.
When you tell him it takes a lot of effort not to laugh. It wasn't a ridiculous notion. He had indulged once or twice in his younger years-not that he would tell you. The thought had crossed his mind not that he would tell you. But really you would have been dog food before he would put any effort into it.
He'll brush your concern off. He has no interest in your flesh in such a rudimentary form. Now that pretty little soul of yours was another matter...
“You seem- distracted.” Lucifer’s purrs against your temple kissing it tenderly. His deep rumble resonates down your spine. “What are you thinking about γλυκιά μου?”  He drags a razor-sharp canine down your neck teasingly. “Something good perhaps?”  
“No, sorry.” You burrow closer to his chest. “Just had a… thought.” Lucifer’s thumb stills, halting the teasing pattern he had been tracing into your thigh. He scowls brushing his nose across the crown of your head. If you were thinking of anything other than him, then he was doing this wrong.
That thought was… offending. He had carved out a spot for you in his already ridiculous schedule, and yet you seemed miles away. Normally these precious moments were spent with you snuggling close loving his undivided attention, and him loving yours in kind.
Tonight your demeanor was so demure. You clung to him as usual, soft lips trailing down his jaw to the little sliver of exposed skin from where he had loosened his tie hours ago. But, it just felt like you were just going through the motions. “Speak.” A request and order in one.
"If given the chance, would you eat me?"
"What?" Lucifer cups the back of your head and pulls you away to make eye contact. "What?" He balks, eyes wide. His expression was completely undignified. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting.
You explain to him about a conversation you had overheard in your early days of the exchange program. For some reason, it just hit you then at the feel of his mouth on you.
"I- hmmm. Personally, I would have fed you to Cerberus. I don't particularly enjoy the taste of human flesh." He settles back into his office chair unfazed. He thought he had something to worry about. "Besides, I have come to find I like you warm and breathing." He pinches your side teasingly ready to get the evening back on track.
"Wait! You thought about it!?" His blasé tone takes you aback.
Lucifer knocks his forehead into yours with a snicker. "Not too hard. Besides you'd probably give my pups indigestion with all the trouble you’ve turned out to be."
Beelzebub
He likes to spend time with you at his favorite cafe. The one with the little tea cakes and great sandwiches.
Normally you will spend a weeknight there studying and munching together. One hand scribbling away in your notebook and the other engulfed in his large hand. By the end of the night though, you always find your legs interwoven with his and his ginger head resting on top of yours.
He is full and happy. So happy in fact, he steals a kiss, and then another.
It’s a good thing he picked a booth in the back so the rest of the cafe can ignore the couple nestled closer and closer in the back. He sneaks a few more peaks in here and there, whispering softly. It was going great until- He hadn’t expected to feel you lock up. Was it something he said?
You’re embarrassed when he pulls away and tries to brush it off. You just got swept up in some thoughts, no biggie.
He won’t pry, he gets it, it happens to him too. But, when you untangle yourself from him he has to know what’s up.
When you tell him he is distraught. Because he 100% has and probably still will eat a person. He might have munched on a witch that had pissed him off just the other day…
What he hates most is he can’t really lie and deny that he hasn’t thought about it.  
“You taste amazing.” His words ghost over your lips as he savors the sweet mix of your coffee and natural flavor. You always taste like spiced oranges and honey when your lips brush. It’s intoxicating. Suddenly the flavor of you changes, a sour note hits his tongue. You go still and look out across the small cafe.“Are you ok?”
You pull away blinking rapidly. “Yeah-sorry.” You chuckle humorlessly. “Just...had a thought.” You try to move back into his arms but he stops you.    
"What's the matter?" He tilts your chin up with a callous finger. You turn your head away and answer. "What?" He could hear you just fine. Superhuman hearing and all, but he just couldn’t comprehend what he heard.
"Do you consider me as a food?" You repeat yourself. "I know demons eat people, and like you've mentioned it before. I guess, I don't know. Shouldn't I be scared?" You've never seen a demon wilt before. Beel recoils and tucks in on himself. His hand flops down to sit on his thigh.
Of Course, he did think about it. Hell’s he had considered it. Aside from being a demon, he was the avatar of gluttony. How many nights had he laid in bed, stomach growling, and your scent filling his nose when you first arrived. Mammon had a work out the first few weeks of school dragging him away from your immediate vicinity. It was fortunate for the both of you that you had bonded so quickly or else he could have ruined everything.
His silence was enough for you to know. "Crazy how things turn out right?" You try to lighten the mood. You stroke his hair gently trying to comfort him. "Sorry, I kinda ruined date night huh?"
"No, no this is good." He chuckles rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Or I mean. We should talk about this. Before Diavolo started working on the exchange program, human souls and flesh were pretty common delicacies." Beel collects his thoughts with a sigh. “The verdict didn’t go over well at first. I wasn’t too happy either if I’m being honest. But, I’m happy he did it in the long run.” He meets your gaze with a warm smile. “You’re the kinda treat I want to enjoy for eternity.”
Asmodeus
A deviant. An absolute terror when it comes to PDA. He doesn’t care if it’s class time. If he wants to be in your lap then that's where he'll be.
He'll nuzzle the crook of your neck whenever he finds his way on to your thighs. He always has a compliment ready for you. New perfume or cologne? Is that shirt the one he bought you? He'll dote on you for hours until you are a blushing mess.
He schedules out movie nights with you. Just the two of you, some good drinks, plenty of pillows, and no bothersome brothers.
The movie he picked tonight was an oldie from the Devildom. He was feeling a little sentimental and thought you would enjoy seeing some culture. You agree, but forget one little thing.
Old Devildom culture was...pretty graphic.
Asmo doesn’t notice how your mind drifted off during the opening act. He is busy creating a new trail of hickies along your shoulder and upper arm around his pact.
He does notice when he hits the sensitive spot of your neck that normally has you squirming but-nothing. Huh? Was he losing his touch? He is usually so aware of his partner's mood. He asks what’s wrong.
Your question comes out of left field. He panics, figuring the movie wasn’t the best for this conversation. He turns it off and gives you his full attention.
Has he eaten a human or two before. Yes, back when he was young and would get swept up in the heat of the moment. Crimson was a lovely color on him.
You try to console him. Really you get it, it was an errant thought. You know he won’t eat you.
Can he still call you a snack tho?
You watch the movie in dead silence. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you figure you should probably be disturbed by what you see on screen. Were you that desensitized? Probably. Should that worry you? Maybe? You try to weigh it out in your hand. The black and white feature flashing across your eyes. You have seen worse in crappy human B rated horror movies. But, those were special effects and pints of red-colored slime and food coloring. You had a nagging suspicion that the scene in front of you was real. You glance down at the slim demon trying to fuse his body into yours. His body flickering in and out of focus in the flickering lights of the movie. You try to focus on him, his warm body nestling closer to you under the blankets. It worked for a moment before another loud roar from the screen dragged your eyes back up.
The contrast between the violence on the projector and the soft innocents of Asmodeus’s lips on the corners of yours was wild. He wasn’t even paying attention to the film. Typical. This was his normal ploy to have you all to himself. It worked though, and you loved it. Oh- You watch with wrapped attention as the human on screen was consumed both body and soul by a horde of demons.
“Is the film more magnetic than me?” Asmodeus pulls away licking his lips. His rose-colored gloss was smeared across his cheek. You shudder blinking past the sudden thought of what that soft red color also looked like.  
"Nah," You huff wrapping your arms around him to press your chest to his. He purrs practically preening from your attention. "Just thinking."
"Oh~" You can feel his playful smile stretching along your hairline. "Care to share." He nips your earlobe.
"I just, humans really are just kinda food to you guys huh?”
You’ve never seen Asmodeus move so fast before in your life. One moment he is doing his best impression of an octopus and the next he is standing several feet away from you, hands raised in a mix of shock and defense. “Where would you-” He trails off hearing the sound of violence and death behind him. “Oh Hells.” He clicks off the projector in a panic. “I am so sorry honey! I did not think that through.”
You laugh awkwardly. “Would this be an inappropriate time to say I would go straight to your thighs?”
Asmodeus snorts in the dark. “Hips more like. You are nothing but sugar and fluff.” He flips the lights back on and he comes back to kneel next to you. He cups your face. “You know I would never do that right? I can’t say I haven’t done it before but I’ve never thought that about you.”
You hum kissing his warm palm. “Should I be offended or thankful?”
He hits you playfully. “That’s not funny!” You laugh taking his light swats, grateful that the mood in the room was already lightning.  
“It is and you know it.” You scoop him back into your lap and snatch the remote up from where he had tossed it. “Come on let’s finish movie night. I’m picking the show this time.”
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simpsiren · 4 years
Text
the familiarly unfamiliar stranger;
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na jaemin x reader
He is the guy that’s kind to basically everyone. No one has ever disliked him. He’s always had that “friendly guy but doesn’t have a group of permanent friends” type of aura. Despite that aura of his, he’s never seen hopping from one friend group to another either. He’s just... there. He only has his DNYL fraternity that I would consider to be his only friends.
genre. angst, fluff, childhood friends meeting after a long time becoming lovers
warnings. none!
word count. 16.3k~
description. Would it be possible to meet that particular stranger that you made a sudden connection with in the span of two months when the two of you first met at a beach house party? I didn’t really try finding the answer to that after we parted way and never to cross paths again. Instead, the answer came to me when I went to college and realised that Jaemin was studying there as well. Just when I thought my unsaid feelings could finally be released for him to hear, I got to find out that he joined a fraternity called ‘DNYL’, meaning that they’re people that want absolutely nothing to do with love.
READ PART II HERE
!as they should materlist!
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“Get your ass out of this couch and come with me!” Johnny plopped himself down next to me. I kept my eyes on the TV screen, not giving a single care about Johnny's constant persuasion to take me to some beach house party.
“Are you serious right now?” Johnny lets out an exasperated huff. “We’re at the beach for God’s sake! You need to enjoy summer break here to the fullest. One way is to get out and party!” He grabbed onto my wrist, tugging it with every word to emphasize his points. I used my free hand to scoop a handful of popcorn from the bowl. “I still have two months here. I can admire the beach whenever I want. Just not with complete strangers.” I rolled my eyes as I chewed, words muffled due to the fact that I stuffed my mouth till it was full.
“Can you please?” Johnny whined, shoulders shaking from left to right. “Ah! I shall make my wish now.” I turned to him, arching a brow in a questioning look. “What the hell are you talking about?” Johnny giggled and a wide smirk crept up his face creepily. Whatever Johnny’s about to mention is going to force me to stop saying no. I just know it.
“Remember you said you’d grant me a wish since I gave you the credit for coming up with that idea for your art project?” Yup, knew it. Thanks to the idea that Johnny gave me, I was able to get an A for my end of year art coursework. Supposedly, we were needed to credit everyone, and I mean everyone, who contributed in any way. But Johnny offered to give me full credit for the most important part of the project, which I’m greatly thankful for. But unfortunately, it’s now about to stab me in the back.
“I literally treated you to bubble tea for that!” I retorted, eyes narrowed at Johnny as he shook his head vigorously. “That doesn’t count.” I let out a loud defeated sigh. I could never beat Johnny in this. Even if I did, he’d still go on to pester me every second. Not wanting to push this matter any further and having to put up with Johnny’s stubbornness, I plopped another popcorn into my mouth, whispering a “Better be worth my damn time.” after I swallowed.
We were living in a trailer during our stay by the beach and had to walk by the seaside to reach, wherever the beach house was. I followed beside Johnny closely, being absolutely clueless since I have yet to look around the place when we came. It’s only our first day. Can’t expect me to be exploring it immediately. I needed time to get comfortable. But Johnny clearly didn’t get that memo.
The moment the beach house came to view, loud chatters and laughter of glee could already be heard. There were many people hanging by the outdoor restaurant, which was made by colourful planks and decorated with fairy lights that illuminated the entire place beautifully, hung loosely from plank to plank that were placed far apart from each other as the roof, giving you the clearest view of the night sky. Some people were by the hammocks situated just beside it, and the actual beach house itself above the outdoor restaurant.
The place was jammed pack the moment we stepped in. Johnny had to hold my hand as we squeezed through the crowd. The reeked smell of alcohol and burnt barbecue entered my nose, making me scrunch it up the whole way till we entered the beach house. “I shouldn’t have come.” I said dryly to Johnny while he took me to meet his friends. “Go grab some food.” Johnny said as we ended up in front of a room. He opened the door, suddenly a bunch of low screaming was heard as they greeted Johnny. I stood behind him quietly, thinking that his tall figure would cover me.
“Who’s she?” One of them asked. I mentally sighed as Johnny pulled me out from hiding behind his back. “Just a friend I had to drag here to enjoy herself. Isn’t that right?” Johnny said with a playful tone. I threw a sharp glare at him in a split second and turned to the group of guys that were sitting around the large bed, forcing a smile and nodding my head. “Enjoy yourself. Cause’ I’ll be leaving the moment I get my food.” With that, I left to head over to the food pantry.
After zooming my way through the crowded area of the beach house, I finally made it out at the restaurant. I walked to the lines of tables that were filled with food. Barbecued food and desserts. I guess this was a positive decision to come here. I get free food after all. I grabbed a plate from the side and placed practically one of every food that was available till my plate was full. I got myself a cup of iced cold lemon tea and removed myself from the chaotically crowded area.
When I stepped out of the place, I actually didn’t know where to go. I stood there for a moment, food on one hand and drink on the other. My eyes scanned the scenery in front of me. It was just the beach with nothing else on sight. I licked my lips and my legs began to move. I didn’t know where I was going, but I’ll go anywhere that’ll bring me away from all this.
My legs ended up taking me to the rocks at the end of the beachside. I climbed up after placing my food at the top. I sat down and got comfortable, letting my legs dangle freely over the edge. I took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of the sea air that cleared my nose and put me at ease instantly. I looked up to the night sky, my hand reaching for a chicken and took a bite.
The sky that had very few stars to be seen was dark, a blank sky of nothingness. The sea however reflected the light of the moon, the waves glistening under the moonlight each time it hits the surface. Not to mention the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks below me. “Mind if I join you?”
I flinched and turned around immediately at the voice behind me. I didn’t give a reply and instead inspected him up and down. He had blue hair, which I found was weird at first, but I realised that it went well with his face that was extremely attractive, and seemed to be around my age. He’s wearing a plain white loose tee with black jeans and boots, the entire outfit making his perfectly proportioned body prominent as well as his bright blue hair to stand out.
I have yet to given a reply, too caught up with looking at the stranger as he simply shrugged and take a seat beside my food and drink, my eyes following him with every move. “I’m assuming you came from the party.” He said, eyes staring down on the food. I nodded my head silently. “Just wanted some freah air.” I replied.
I grabbed my drink and take a sip, sighing softly as I swallowed. “Were you from there too?” He laughed and nodded his head. “Since evening. Everyone’s currently drunk and crazy. Just didn’t feel like putting up with that.” He hugged his knees close to his chest, chin resting on his forearm. “How long have you been here?” I took a bite of my chicken and quickly swallowed it down to answer him. “It’s only my first day. I’m staying till summer break’s over.” The boy hummed in reply.
“Same, actually.” Although I had my eyes fixated at the sky, I couldn’t help but take quick glances at him, his eyes being covered by strands of his blue hair and his sharp jawline that could possibly cut through anything. I noticed how he kept his eyes on my food, though he wasn’t trying to make it obvious. “You can have some.” I said, downshifting to the food.
He smiled softly, looking up at me. “Thanks.” He whispered before taking a snack at random and placing it in his mouth. “Is this your first time coming here?” He questioned. I puckered my lips. “Yeah. I mean of course I went to the beach before just not staying here for two months.” I kept silent, thinking of what else to say. I noticed how he was looking at me, as if fully attentive to my words.
“Johnny pulled me in on this, saying I should enjoy a different environment rather than the air of the city breathing down my throat and suffocating me.” I added on, saying exactly what Johnny told me before coming here and looking down to my legs that swayed lightly in the wind. “You mean Johnny Suh?” My brows furrowed as I looked to him. “You know him?”
“Yeah. He’s friends with my brother Jaehyun.” He lets out a weak laugh. “My mother forced me to follow him here to enjoy myself. I’m not a big fan of...” He turned around and motioned his hand lazily to the beach house. “That.”
“Guess we’re here for the same reasons and share the same opinion.” We kept quiet for some time, letting the silence get comfortable between us. Funny how I didn’t feel the slightest bit of awkwardness next to him, as if we’d be able to never know each other yet still feel like we have since forever like the closest of friends do. The cold wind blew gently against our skin, only our light breathing and munching to be heard.
I didn’t know what time it was, nor did I care. But whoever this guy was, he somehow made me want to stay here for longer that I needed.
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I didn’t see him at all after that one night. I ended up having to go home myself since Johnny came back to the trailer the next day extremely hungover when he rang the doorbell annoyingly at seven in the morning. Two weeks have passed. And the stranger never left me mind. Not because of how he looked, though that was one of the reasons, but because of the the fact that I felt the sudden comfort when I was with him. It was just one night. A mere few hours. And we were just there. A little chit chat here and there followed by long minutes of silence. But it didn’t feel bad at all. 
“Where are you going?” I asked, seeing Johnny wear his leather jacket while walking over to where I was at, once again on sitting comfortably on the couch for my movie night. “To see my friends. What else? I’m not a homebody like you.” He rolled his eyes at me, going to the kitchen counter to grab his wallet. “Hey, John?” I suddenly asked, curious about something.
He turned around and hummed in question. “Are you friends with a guy named Jaehyun?” His eyes widened slightly and nodded his head. “I do. Funny you mentioned him. I’m meeting him at the beach house later.” His face slowly turned into a mischievous one. “Why? You wanna meet him?” I squinted my eyes at his assumption. “No. I’m just...” I trailed on, but never got to think of an answer, not knowing how to explain to Johnny that I wanted to meet the boy that I knew absolutely nothing about. 
“Asking for a friend.” Johnny smacked his lips. “Tell her he’s unavailable until she gets my approval.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “What a friend.” I commented in a sarcastic manner. “I’ll head out too.” I said, grunting as I rose from the couch. “And where are you going?” Johnny asked curiously. “Hoping to enjoy myself.” I said, my lips forming a thin line as I went to get ready. If Jaehyun’s there, could his brother be as well? 
By the time I finished getting ready, Johnny has already left and I assumed he did a long time ago. I shrugged and left the trailer. I made my way to the beach house. It was still as lively as ever. I did make occasional trips there for the food since they were in fact still delicious. I assumed they were about to have another party. It was already evening. Once again my legs didn’t know where to go and made the unconscious decision of taking me to the rocks.
As if miracle had dawned on me, I was surprised to see him sitting there, his back facing me while he held a guitar on his lap with a small notebook and pencil beside him. I silently walked up to him and sat down, legs crossed. He didn’t say anything for a moment when he noticed me. “We meet again.” He simply said, trailing his eyes from his guitar and to me. I chuckled and smiled softly. “Indeed, we have. My legs just carried me here.” I lied, placing my hands on my thighs as I thought about how he has never left my mind since that night. 
“What are you doing?” I asked, jerking my head to the guitar that sat comfortably on his lap. “Writing a song.” He said, smiling gently back at me. I probably didn’t notice this that night since it was dark and I didn’t get a clear view of his face, but his smile was effortlessly beautiful. It made his whole face glow and he didn’t even have to smile fully. My heart did a leap, quickly my mind captured his face, his bright blue fluffy hair that moved in the strong winds of the day, his nose and his lips, lightly tinted pink that looked soft and smooth. 
He began to strum on his guitar, making gentle and calming sounds flow into my ears. “Being here gives me inspiration.” He grabbed his notebook from the side, writing down something that I couldn’t take a peek of since his head covered the page. “Are you free today?” He suddenly asked, looking up to me and closing the notebook shut with his fingers clasping it. I hummed in reply, my mind starting to wonder why he would ask that out of the blue. “Well I actually have a movie night to get to but it’s not important.” It used to be until you asked, I thought to myself. 
“Oh then it’s fine. You should enjoy your movie night with your friend.” He blurted out quickly, shaking his head and letting out a weak chuckle, facing forward to the sea. I widened my eyes and shook my head vigorously, my hands doing the same in front of me chest. “No! I’m fully free. I meant a movie night with myself.” 
“I’m fully free.” I repeated again, slowly as a way to reassure him while hoping that I’d get to spend some time with him tonight. 
We ended up having a small picnic, ordering two boxes of pizza while we sat by the seashores, the waves just hitting inches away from us where the sand as still dry. “The sunset’s pretty.” I whispered, looking up at the beautiful shades of red till yellow that painted the sky. 
“Have you made any friends here yet?” He asked, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. I sighed quietly, my chest puffing up ever so slightly. “I only have Johnny, but he’s always hanging out with his friends so.” I cut of, not needing to finish the full sentence. “You?” I questioned him. He gave the same reply, sighing. “Never really got along with anyone here.”
“But you’re getting along well with me.”
“Then I guess that’s a first.”
The two of us laughed. It felt nice. This whole thing. Again we were met with silence. It’s as if that day was repeating itself, only in a different setting. What was it about this that had drawn me in so deep? The peace that soothed me just from doing this, just by having him next to me. He’s a complete stranger. I forgot about asking his name, he never bothered asking me for mine either. We were just... there, admiring each other’s unknown presence. We didn’t bother digging into knowing who we are, we just had to have each other to feel that state of serenity. 
This time we got to chat a little while longer. I got to find out that he was staying here for two months as well, just like me. He told me he liked writing songs a way to express how he feel, unsaid words that no one would understand if he were to say it normally. “Then what about the song you are writing now? What’s it about?” 
He retrieved his eyes back to the sunset, which colours were slowly losing their force to welcome the night. “It’s a work in progress. It doesn’t have a specific meaning to it either. I’m using my time spent here fully to know what to write, which is why I’m planning to add in new lyrics when I feel like it till the end of this trip.” I hummed in reply. Though I didn’t fully understand what he meant or what he was doing that for, I carried on with it anyways, wanting to hear his voice that never really broke the silence, but settled nicely in between.
“What do you think it’s going to be about?” That rhetorical question had him off guard. He didn’t answer, staring into blank space thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. But I somewhat have an idea.” He suddenly took out something out of his pocket, realising that it was his notebook and pencil from last time. He was quick to open a page and scribbled something down. His handwriting was messy and unrecognisable which made me frown slightly since I was curious as to what he wrote.
“Sorry. Something popped up in my mind for my lyrics. I had to write it down since I’m scared I’ll lose it.” He said, cracking a smile. “Can I hear it once it’s finished?”
“I think you’ll be the only person to ever hear it.”
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It was three in the morning. Johnny was peacefully sleeping above me while I’m wide awake, my mind never wanting to put me to rest as the very day from years before kept repeating itself in my head. And each time it did, I felt the feelings that came with it as well like it was the first time.
Being restless and wanting something to shoot me flat out, I decided to head to the twenty four hour supermarket Johnny and I went to when we had to buy groceries for dinner. When I reached, I stood in front of the entrance, clueless. Again I didn’t know what I came here for. I just wanted to get anything that’ll take my mind off it. I walked in, and there was barely anyone to be seen. Only the cashier who seemed to be sleeping on his stool. I took quiet steps, not wanting to disrupt his sleep since I knew how hard it was working the night shift, especially as a high school student.
I grabbed one of the worn out yellow baskets from the stack beside the counter and went straight for the chips aisle with the mentality of “Just get whatever you want and indulge yourself in it till sunrise.” I ended up dropping two bags of chips, a whole bunch of milk chocolate bars, specifically Cadburry and KitKat. I wasn’t too scared about them melting since it’s always extremely cold here at night.
I wondered around the supermarket, thinking of what else I could get. I ended up going to the wine aisle, rows and rows of different kinds wine bottles that I’ve never seen or heard of. I wasn’t like those high schoolers that gets drunk every weekend so I didn’t have the widest knowledge on it. The only one I could recognise was the one that Johnny’s friends bought once when they had a sleepover at our house. Me being curious I tried it with the tiniest of drops the bottle had left after they went to sleep. I remembered it to taste fine and didn’t have an impact on me at all since my intake of it was just mere drops. 
I grabbed it off the shelf with a lazy hand but gripped onto properly when I forgot for a moment that the bottle was heavy. I placed it inside the basket that was at the end of the aisle when headed for the cash register. “ID?” He asked after scanning the rest of the items and placing them into a plastic bag.
“Here.”
I flinched and jumped around. I was met with his body close to mine. I leaned back in shock, my eyes protuberant at the sudden appearance of him. “What are you-” 
He handed the cashier his ID. “Thanks dude.” He said, handing me the bottle of wine while he carried the plastic bag. He looked down on me, raising a soft smile. ‘Let’s go.” He held my wrist and walked me out of the supermarket. When we got out I was met with the cold air. I was too lazy to wear a jacket and now I’m somewhat regretting about leaving the trailer with just my sweater. “And how did you end up here?” I asked with curiosity, stopping after we walked a few steps. “I wanted to buy some midnight snacks.” He then lifted the plastic bag in front of him. “But I guess I don’t need to do that.” 
I chuckled, glaring at him and faking my exasperation. “It’s not meant for you.” I joked, hugging the bottle of wine in my arms as I walked with him catching up and matching my steps beside me. “The rocks?” He asked, head tilted as he sped up in front me and began walking backwards. “You know it.” 
We were at the rocks again, same place, same atmosphere. “Are you going to offer me food like you did last time at the party?” He questioned me in a cheeky tone, a soft giggle following after. I adverted my attention from the sky and to him. He was wearing a thick grey hoodie, hood on that covered his face, which made me sad for a moment, not being able to admire his face. 
“Should I?” I asked back with a slight smirk, digging out a Cadbury bar from the bag and opening it. It still felt cold to the touch. Before wanting to take a bite, I sighed playfully and handed it to him. “There.” He looked down at it for a moment. Instead of dipping down to take a bite, he held my thing wrist, his fingers curling around it gently with his cold palm against my skin. That simple touched sent an electric shock throughout my whole body, as if he’s a lightning that had struck me with the simplest of things.
He guides the chocolate bar in my hand to my lips, pushing at my bottom lip with the end of the bar. “It’s fine. It’s yours anyways.” He whispered, letting go and leaning back with his hands supporting him from behind. I blinked twice, one to my lips where the chocolate bar was still on my lips, and the other to him. My body froze and I couldn’t move. I simply stared at him as he closed his eyes. Soon the chocolate started to melt at the contact of my lips, making me take a bite and licking my bottom lip.
“So...” He started, head tilted back but his eyes fluttered open to look at me. “What were you doing at the supermarket buying junk food at three in the morning.” I glanced down at my phone when he mentioned the time. 3:20AM. Why does time move by slowly when I’m with him? It feels as if the world’s telling me to enjoy such moments like these while I can. It was kind enough to slow down time for me.
I didn’t give an answer, my mind going back and forth as I contemplated on whether to tell him. In the end, I did. It’s not like he’ll remember what I say anyways. “Today’s the day my first love broke up with me.” I confessed, smacking my lips and nodding my head. “That’s... sad.”
With a chuckle, I bit down on the chocolate bar. “That’s not even half of what makes this day so depressing.” I sighed loudly, running a hand through my hair that got tangled due to the strong wind. “I found out that he wasn’t normal. He had a problem that didn’t allow him to feel anything. Pain, happiness... and also love.”
I looked to him. He had a blank expression. I couldn’t tell what he thought about it. Yet, he kept silent, in a way to tell me to continue if I had anything more to say. I exhaled sharply before resuming. “So he didn’t love me at all. Not a single drop of it. I remembered when he told his friend one night at an abandoned house that he never loved me. He never felt anything towards me. I was hiding behind a wall. I felt so stupid that I quietly removed myself from the house and ran to the farthest place I could go to.”
Unconsciously, my tears started to well up in my eyes, my vision starting to get blurry as I brought my hand up, fingers shaking tremendously as I took a bite of my almost-finished chocolate bar. “I couldn’t sleep since my mind kept making me think about. It’s not him that’s made me hate that day, but the fact that all the days before that were the happiest times of my life. So to find out that it was all fake...”
My voice began cracking under the pressure. I could feel it all coming at me in one go, in one giant wave. I broke down, my tears instantly flowing out like rivers as I covered my mouth, wanting to muffle out my cries. I suddenly felt an arm around my shoulders, pulling my body close as he began to embrace me, eventually wrapping both arms around me and letting me sink into his warmth. I gripped onto his hoodie and balled my fists, my face digging deeper into the fabric.
“Sh... It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispered ever so softly as he placed his chin on top of my head and rubbed my back. “Johnny took me here knowing that. I guess he hoped that I won’t remember it while I’m here.” I croaked out, gulping and taking in deep breaths.
As I began to calm down, I started to think about how gentle he is. He hugged me as if I was a fragile sensitive baby that he had to protect at all costs. He hugged me as if giving me comfort was his only main purpose. His warmth and touch curled around me like a fluffy blanket, a place I’d never want to leave.
Though I was done crying, I stayed there in his arms that held me perfectly. He didn’t bother pulling away either, as if he too didn’t want to let go. “Do you want me to make you forget?” He asked softly, pulling away slightly with his hand still on my back while I had mine on his chest. I let out a weak chuckle. “Can you?”
He laughed for a short moment. “I’ll be...” He looked up thoughtfully. “Your fairy godmother.” He flashed a cheeky smile that got me to burst out laughing. “My fairy godmother? I’m not Cinderalla.”
“But I’ll give you a day like the ball night. I’ll grant you whatever you want, and we can do anything you’d like. How’s that sound?” I looked into his eyes after my laughter died down. His eyes were the softest thing I’ve seen in a person affer a long time. It was filled with gentleness and kindness, perhaps even love that could cover the entire world.
“Perfect.”
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We planned to meet the next day at the rocks. We didn’t have a clear idea of what we’re going to do though we freed our entire day for this. But that’s the beauty of the idea, isn’t it? Having to wonder around without a clear goal in mind. Sailing in the ocean’s wave without a destination, and having the waves do its thing to take you to wherever it wants you to be.
He came walking towards me with a tropical button up and light washed jeans along with slippers. My eyes can never take themselves off his blue hair. It’s seriously the second thing to stand out the most other than his face. “Hey.” He called out, lifting a hand up to wave. I took a few steps to him, wearing a happy smile. “What should we do first?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You know this place better than me.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck while the other was shoved into the pocket of his jeans. “Mm I have plenty of nice places to show you.”
He leaned forward, meeting me at my eye level as our eyes locked sights. My heart started to race quickly and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks. Looking at him upclose, he really was more good looking that I thought he was. How did anyone this attractive even existed in the world? My stomach started churning out butterflies that fluttered uncontrollably and my eyes got wary, switching from looking at his one eye to the other.
“Can you handle it all in one day?” I blinked my eyes rapidly as his words hit me. Wanting to not show him my seemingly embarrassed face, I pushed him away by his arm, turning around. “Try me!” I shouted, laughing as I ran away. I placed my palms on my cheek. They were definitely burning. I scrunched up my face at the thought. I heard him running from behind, catching up to me quickly with an adorable giggle.
We ended up going to many places that day. He took me to places that I never even knew existed since I didn’t bother exploring far alone. Days and weeks flew by, our meetups began to be more spontaneous and impromptu. One moment one of us would be hanging out by ourselves and the other would suggest to go on a full blown adventure the next.
“You never tell me you had such dance moves!” I said, panting heavily as I placed both my hands on the sides of my hips to catch a breather. “I mean I do dancing as a side hobby to writing music.” He breathed out. I punched him on the arm, pouting with angry eyes. “I’m never playing with you again! You absolutely trashed me.” I grumbled, folding my arms. He laughed and held both my hands. “Don’t get all grumpy with me when you defeated me at the arcade hundreds of times.” He rolled in eyes in exasperation.
“Well you’re right. But you forced me to give you my plushies!” I shouted as he pulled my close with a tug of my wrists. “I’ll give them back once they starts to smell like me.” He gave off a playful wink as he giggled with mischief. I scoffed loudly and threw him a sharp glare. “Mm sure.”
“This cake is so...” “Fluffy!”
I didn’t even need him to finish my sentence. He read my mind as the two of us hummed in satisfaction, letting ourselves sink into the cake’s flavour and taste like a bath. “Thanks for giving me the idea to try the strawberry flavoured cake.” He said with immense greatfulness as he closed his eyes, a happy child-like smile plastered on his face.
“I’m surprised you never tried it despite coming here often. It’s my favourite flavour.” I smiled to myself and took a sip of plain water. With my lips still on the straw, I looked to him who looked so bright. “Can we get ice cream later?” I raised both my brows and gaped my mouth open. “We’re having cake and now you want ice cream?! You have such a sweet tooth.”
“I’ll treat you to strawberry ice cream.” I slammed my palm faced down on the table. “Deal.”
“You’re at a beach and you can’t even swim!” He shouted as he swam farther into the sea while I stood in the water that only came up my chest area. “Don’t leave me!” I cried out, watching him swim around happily while I was too scared to take another step that would lead me the water level rising up to my neck.
I turned around for a moment and when I looked back, he was gone. I didn’t know where he was but I simply assumed that he was swimming under water. I didn’t find this fun at all. He kept teasing me constantly while he forced me to change into a swimming costume that we had to buy today itself since I never thought of bringing one in the first place.
Just when I wanted to make my way back on the shores, I felt something grab my ankle. Out of pure shock and fear, I screamed at the top of my lungs and tried running away, which failed instantly as I fell into the waters. Scared, I scurried around trying to get my head above for air.
I was suddenly supported with a hand around my waist. He got out of the water, splashing some on me as he flicked his hair back. He pulled me closer, hands still around me waist with a look of worry in his eyes. “A-Are you okay? I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” His eyes were shaky as he looked my face. I stared back, placing my hands comfortably on his arms. I had to wrap my legs around his hips since I wasn’t tall enough to touch the sand.
“You’ll regret doing that once we get out of here.” I retorted, clinging onto his body since I was that scared. “Alright, alright. But I’m going to teach you how to swim. How can you not know?” We made our way back to the shore with him struggling to carry my body. I found it cute how he tried to mask the fact that he looked like dropping me with each step. “My family don’t go out doing stuff, you know? We’re just at home most of the time.”
“That’s a disappointment. Be glad that you got me to teach you basic survival skills.” I gaped my mouth open widely, scoffing. “Shut up.” I pushed him away by the chest only to have him come at me with his laughter, which only made me laugh in response.
How was it already my last two days here? Johnny reminded me to pack up my stuff before I left to meet him yet again. This time we promised to spend the entire day together, morning till night, never leaving the other’s side till the last minute.
“You’re leaving after me?” I questioned, head on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around my waist that sat perfectly. “Yeah.” He simply replied in a gentle voice, the two of us staring up to the night sky, looking at the stars that we spent pointing out and making up our own constellations with them.
“Hygge is still shining brightly.” I whispered, pointing upwards and drawing its made up constellation. “It’s shining because of how we’re at peace right now.” He brought a hand up to my head, carassing it lovingly as he threated his fingers through my hair, expertly getting rid of its knots.
“About the song...” I turned my head to him, humming. “I’ll have it done by tonight and sing it for you tomorrow before you leave.” I dug my face deeping into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent that I grew to get used to very quickly during my stay here. “I’m glad I’ll finally be able to hear it. Can you still not tell me what it’s about?” I whined softly, putting on a frown that made him chuckle.
“You can figure that out instantly once I sing it to you so don’t worry. I’m not some philologist.” He slowly dipped in to plant a light kiss on the crown of my head, his lips staying there while I could only assume he had his eyes closed to take in one of our last moments together before we part ways.
The next day I went to the rocks first thing in the morning. He was sitting there, guitar in hand, his legs dangling over the edge. He wore his white tee again, resembling what he wore the first day I met him. I didn’t know why, but every moment I had with him kept reminding me of the first time we met. He came at me out of the blue, yet he didn’t need to do much to makd an impression that stuck on me.
“Alright. Play it now, play it now!” I said, immediately after sitting down next to him. He turned his gaze to me, laughing as he flashed his eye smile that I absolutely adore. “Jeez calm down first!” He strummed on his guitar, taking a moment to check if everything’s ready. He then looked to me, his wide smile growing into a softer and smaller one as he began to play.
The more I listened, the more I realised what he meant by the fact that I’ll know what it was about. Or rather, who. It was about me, about us. He sang about our trips and outings, and everything about me. From being the most beautiful being to the weirdest, he sang about it all. My heart ached in the most amazing way possible. It fluttered as I felt the love and sincerity expertly imbued into each note, each word he sang. He didn’t break his eyes off me either, as if opening my soul with his voice that only drew me in deeper into his being that I knew all too well, but also didn’t.
I knew him, head to toe, front to back. I knew him well like my favourite book where the plot, characters, the plot twists were all etched in my brain. I didn’t even need to think to know what happened next. That’s how much I knew him in the span of two months. Yet, I never knew basic information about him. His name, age, where he went for education. We silently decided not to tell that information of ours to the other, simply thinking that we’re strangers that have known each other for years.
That was the last time I saw him. After that day till the moment Johnny drove our trailer away. He never left my mind and it was only then when the beach left my view that I started to feel the regret of not asking him who he was. Why was I so stupid not to ask? For forgetting that we’ll part ways and never meet again unless we had some form of connection. Why did we spend time together in our made up dream thinking that for a moment fate would bring us together when we’ve completely forgotten about reality hitting us right after?
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I was at the lecture hall for my art major. It felt as if a whole year went by just from listening. I glanced down at my phone. Ten more minutes. On top of my coursework which I had to hand in by week nine, there was also going to be an exam on the study of visual arts. I hope to at least get some rest before I push through how many all-nighters just to get it all done and over with.
Finally our professor ended his lecture. The lecture hall now filled with sounds of everyone keeping their materials and heading straight for the door. I decided to hold back for awhile, not wanting to have to push myself through the large crowd trying to get out through the small doors. Majority of the people have already exited after I scrolled through my phone and just as I was about to stand up to leave, I heard a loud slam on my table. I instantly turned to it. There was a sticker on my table. I looked up and scanned my surroundings, wondering who pasted it there. A guy in a black hoodie with his hood on zoomed past me at the back since I sat at the last row, making his way to the exit and leaving.
I adverted my attention back to the weird sticker that was being pasted on my table by God knows who. I was able to peel it off from the table since the adhesive on it wasn’t strong. I gripped it in between my index and middle finger, bringing it up close to my face. “DNYL...?” I whispered to myself, reading the letters that were large and in a red cursive font that was dripping from the bottom in a heart. I blinked my eyes rapidly, proceeding to turn it around so that I could look at it from all angles. There’s nothing else, nothing to tell me who gave the weird sticker to me.
I stuck it on the back of my phone, not knowing exactly where to place it. Throughout the day I kept glancing at it with a bunch of questions surfacing each time. I was now back at the dorms. The first thing I did was opened up my computer to search up whatever the hell DNYL stood for. But nothing popped up. I started to think it was something that’s within the school. Some kind of club? Or an organisation?
I’ve thought about it for so long that the time I had to rest had already passed by and now I had to start work. “What the hell even is this?” I questioned myself yet again before throwing my phone to my bed and began taking out my art materials to resume my coursework.
The next day I was sitting in the hall before lecture started, my eyes glued to the door as I tried to find whoever that gave me the sticker. They had to be taking this course to be here anyways. But, the longer I stared at the door, the longer I thought to myself “Why did I even think that he’ll wear the same hoodie as yesterday?” I shook my head, placing chin on the palm of my hand as I let out a quiet sigh. A few poeple were wearing black hoodies, but they weren’t like the one I saw yesterday. They didn’t have that body type either.
I scratched my head, fully distressed about this trivial matter that I shouldn’t even be questioning much about, especially when I had a whole workload of things to do that is way more important than some sticker. Yet, my curiosity could never seem to shake it off. Nothing has happened after that. No stickers, weird guy, nothing. However, my senses were always on the edge, ready to catch the person if I were to ever encounter myself with the same sticker.
Due to my roommate suddenly having a party at our dorm with her group of friends, I decided to head over to the study café, not wanting to be stuck in my room and having to deal with the noise from outside. During my time there, hours have already passed by. It has always been like this whenever I do art. So much time yet so little accomplishments. Luckily I was able to complete what I wanted to for tonight and decided that it was a good time to look for books that could help me with my research for my study of visual arts assignment which would eventually lead to my exam.
I head down to the first floor where the library was. It was dark and secluded with only the lamp from the desk being the only thing that illuminated a small part of the library. I took silent steps to the bookshelves, my eyes scanning up and down with my finger following it as I tried finding a book. I was about to switch to the other side of the shelve when something at the side caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks and turned a sharp ninety degrees.
Just below the sign that indicated the books’ genre, there was a familiar shape. Slowly, I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight. As expected, it was the heart shaped sticker again. It had the same design, same letters. This time however, it looked worn out, like it’s been here for more than a year with his edges fraying like someone tried to tear it off, along with the discolouration.
“What even...” I whispered to myself. Upon further inspection with squinted eyes, there was something that resembled a quote that was placed along the rim of the sticker. “Don’t.... your. What does it say?” I couldn’t help but wonder, the fraying of the edges mot giving me a chance to even guess what the quote was.
With this new information, I laying on my bed, still in my pyjamas and not wanting to leave my bed till afternoon since I had no classes for the day. I turned my phone to the back where the sticker was. There wasn’t any quote on it like the one at the library. Whenever I tried thinking of possibilities of what the full quote could mean, I could only assume “Don’t Need Your Love.” to be the only plausible answer.
“Hey, Sierra?” I asked the moment she came walking in after she was done showering. She turned around, the small towel draped over her head while drying her hair. “Is there perhaps... a fraternity here called DNYL?” She turned to me, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know about what happened?”
I copied her expression. “What do I not know?” She turned to the full length mirror beside her bed as she grabbed her earrings off her dressing table. “My senior said it used to be a fraternity for anyone that doesn’t want to be in love. Basically for those who’ve been through heartbreaks and shit or anything related to love that they don’t want to associate themselves with.”
“But the college thinks that it’s not something to be promoted so they disbanded the fraternity.” Sierra shrugged while wearing her earrings. Her eyes trailed from herself and to me, the reflection of myself looking at her. “Why’d you ask though?”
I gulped, shaking my head and cracking a soft smile. “It’s nothing.” I whispered, looking down to my phone case with the sticker. I forced a smile, looking back up and seeing Sierra grab her bag. “Have fun during lecture.” She laughed and nodded her head. “Have fun resting while I suffer.” With that, she left the dorm.
I went on with my day and decided to not be lazy and actually make my own breakfast instead of ordering the unhealthy McDonald’s breakfast like I do every morning. At the kitchen, it felt quiet. Too quiet for my liking, with only the sound of the pan sizzling the moment I added the pancake batter to be heard. It wasn’t like the silence at the beach. The silence I shared with him. Nothing could compare to that. I felt lonely, and distant.
My mind slowly trailed back into my memories of him. I began to remember the song he sang to me on my last day, remembering the tune and every lyric. Like I said, he never left my mind. Him and everything that went along with the trip was just filed in the back of my mind. It was only now that it began to surface as I started to feel the emptiness of his absence. Not being able to bear it, I turned to my phone and switched on the radio, specifically our college’s radio studio that has their own podcast airing every morning. I never really bothered listening to it till now.
“Alright, we’re going to have a short break so let’s enjoy this song called Don’t Need Your Love by NCT DREAM together before we talk about our next topic.” I didn’t pay attention to his words at first, it came in one ear and went out the other, being too focused on getting my pancakes to not burn. Due to my lack of cooking experience, this part of getting it to cook really got me anxious and on full concentration mode.
The song began to play, and it was cathy. The rhythm had my bobbing my head while I had my eyes cautiously looking at the pancakes. You think it’s my heart you’re holding. You still think you’re all that I need. I placed my pancake onto my plate, getting ready to make the next. The song began to pick up its speed, the drop coming in and making me bob my head harder due to the addictive nature it had before it hits the chorus.
I don’t need your love. Don’t need it. Don’t need it, need it no. And that’s when it hit me. The title of the song, the lyrics. Why haven’t I noticed it at all? I turned to my phone, looking at the screen that showed the same heart shaped logo the sticker had. I gaped my mouth open, immediately picking up the phone as I brought it close to my ear. I’m definitely hearing it correctly. I brought my phone in front of me. The same logo the fraternity had.
Millions of questions came up. If the fraternity doesn’t exist anymore, then why did they suddenly approach me by giving me the sticker? Were they trying to recuit new people to revive the status of the fraternity? And how was this song even playing if the college didn’t allow it to be promoted?
I'm going crazy, please, because of you. I can't sleep. What are you thinking? No, don’t say it. Aside from you. I have many other things to lean on. I don't wanna go back. My eyes widened at the voice who sang that part. It was him. It’s definitely him. It was his voice. I remembered it vividly from when he sang to me at the rocks. I couldn’t have been mistaken.
I turned off the stove, adverting my attention back to the music as I tried to listen to the rest of the song to see if I could pick up his voice again. Unfortunately, I didn’t. That was the only part I got to hear before the music stopped and the guy’s voice came back. “Um actually there was some error. That song wasn’t supposed to be played. Uh l-let’s listen to Long Flight that was written by our very own student council president Lee Taeyong, shall we?” Just like that, the music began playing.
I stood there, completely frozen. “What just happened...?” I whispered to myself, slowly putting my phone back down on the table. I lowered the music as it settled in the background while my mind went deep into my thoughts. “I couldn’t have heard it wrong. I’m sure it was him. I’m not going crazy, am I?” I paced back and forth in the kitchen, thinking if I was actually going crazy from desperately trying to figure out who he was.
I tried pushing the thought away. But it always came back no matter what I was doing, casually creeping back into my mind. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I had to know. I had to be sure. I grabbed whatever belongings I needed and headed to campus.
I brisk walked my way over to the recording studio where supposedly they recorded live for the radio. I pushed the door open, immediately greeted with the head of the radio station team, Moon Taeil, looking at me while sitting on the black swivel chair, legs crossed. “Excuse me?” He questioned, head tilted just a few degrees as his eyes looked me up and down. It felt as if I was being scrutinised by his stare.
“Um I’m sorry but I just have a quick question.” I slowly closed the door behind me and walked towards him. Looking around, there were the other members of the team sitting down at a table and discussing something. “And what’s that?” Taeil asked again with a firm tone which sent a shiver down my spine. “The song you played for the radio. Don’t need your love? Uh who was it written by... And who sang it?”
Taeil licked his lower lip, breaking his eyes off me for a moment as he looked around with uncertainty. He eventually placed both his elbows on the arm rest, arms standing up with his fingers interlocking just below his chin. “It’s written by our alumni Harvey. And who it’s sung by, I honestly don’t know. They just called themselves NCT DREAM and submitted the song anonymously for it be played.”
He lets out a loud sigh for a pause, pursing his lips into a thin line. “But I got a message form the student council that it shouldn’t be played so I had to stop it. It was a good song though.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh... I see.” I whispered softly, looking down to my feet. “Is that all you need, dear?” He asked, a soft smile forming on his face as I shot my head back up from the flood. “A-Ah yes. Thank you so much.” I rushed out the door.
On my way back I kept thinking about what Taeil said, trying to connect the dots with whatever knowledge I’ve gathered. Yet, I still had other questions that were yet to be answered. Who is NCT DREAM? And why have I never heard of them during my time here in college? I wasn’t that person who’s not updated on whatever’s going on on campus anyways. Was playing that song part of their plan to promote their unofficial fraternity?
I was completely distracted for the days that followed after. I couldn’t fully concentrate while studying, the song being replayed in my head over and over again, specifically his part. The most impossible possibility came to my mind. “Is he in this college?” I lifted my head up from the papers, my eyes narrowing down to one spot on the wall. I laughed to myself and shake my head, taking a quick sip of my coffee.
“Don’t be stupid. Coincidences like that only ever happens in movies.” I looked to my phone. Slowly, I reached my hand out for it and flipped it over, my eyes meeting with the bright red sticker. “Can you please stop stressing over this? Get your priorities straight!” I half-shouted, groaning as I dropped my head on the table. My eyes began welling up and my vision got blurry as I thought of wanting to hear his voice sing me to sleep, my tears streaming down my face in a matter of seconds.
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Sierra and I went our separate ways to our building departments after walking to campus together. I entered the lecture hall. It wasn’t empty as I thought it would be. More people seemed to come earlier today. Like any other day, I paid attention to my professor, taking down notes and listening attentively yet dying slowly as each minute passes by.
“Don’t forget your coursework is due in a week’s time!” He shouted one last time as everyone made their way out instantly after lecture ended. I sighed tiredly, getting up from my seat and walking to the door. This time I decided to just go with the crowd, the desperation of wanting to go back to the dorms and take a nap before driving myself insane through the night with my workload again.
I was squished between people with them bumping into me every which way. I began regretting I chose this decision. But perhaps not when I suddenly felt a hand being placed on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder. There wasn’t anyone that looked like they relied their hand back. I tilted my head down to where they placed their hand. It was the sticker. I instantly ripped it from my jean jacket after I finally got out of the mess. I observed the crowd at walked past after leaving the hall. None of them looked suspicious in any way.
“If you’re interested, head over to the abandoned play room in basement one today once you finish lecture.” I read the note that was written over the sticker. With both brows raised, I turned back to the doors, which was now empty and secluded. I instantly nodded my head with determination as my curiosity started to fuel, walking to basement one.
Making my way there, more emotions began to dance around in my heart. I felt the excitement and hopefully satisfaction since I’ll finally be able to know whatever the heck that has been going on and I wouldn’t need to feel the stress of pondering about it any longer too. However, I also felt nervous. I didn’t know the reason for this fraternity disbanding. What if there was something more dangerous behind it? What seemed to weird me out the most is the fact that this fraternity is somehow connected to the stranger from the beach, which was probably the biggest reason for my eagerness to find out.
I’ve only been to the basement once or twice to get free art materials that have no longer been used. It was dark, secluded and eerie. The coldnees wasn’t making my journey there any better either. I got closer to the play room. The sign was glowing a bright yellow and illuminated the surrounding area. There was also light coming from the play room through the glass door. I licked my dried lips nervously and placed my hand on the door handle, entering with my heart thumping out of my chest.
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The moment I entered, I was met with the eyes of four people. Six guys, to be exact. They stared at me, and I stared back. It was complete silence while I had a staring competition with them. “Ah! You’re here!” I shook my head and broke eye contact with them, my attention adverted to the voice. It was another guy who came out from a door that led to another room I assumed.
“Look I’m not interested in joining. Just curious about something.” I put it out there immediately before they tried to do anything that’ll persuade me. All of them gave weird looks. A look that said “You didn’t even bother giving us a try.” The guy walked up to me, bringing his hand up in front of me. “I’m Haechan.” He introduced himself with a bright smile, just like the sun.
“_____.” I forced a smile. Though I was here for answers, I didn’t expect to be in the presence of five guys. If I’m being honest, they did look familiar. Students that I’ve probably seen only once then never again. “Who was the one that gave me the sticker?” I immediately turned to the others sitting on the couch. Haechan placed his hands on his hips and scoffed. “Jeno did you seriously used the sticker method?”
Another guy that had a smaller figure but looked tall with blonde hair gaped his mouth open, looking to his mates as they all stared down on him with looks of disappointment. “I did it like how Harvey recruited us.” Jeno retorted nonchalantly. “But that’s not a good- Urgh who am I kidding we had other jobs to do anyways” Another guy came to view. He was another blonde head. “Guys! Stop the fighting.” Haechan shouted beside me. His scream making everyone flinch, especially one who almost fell off from the couch.
“Can someone please explain what is this unofficial fraternity and why was I even pulled into this mess?” “Renjun go.”
“Huh?” Haechan looked to another that had a smaller figure than Jeno. “Explain.” He arched a brow and scoffed. “You’re getting a beating from me later for bossing us around just cause’ you’re the head.” Renjun rolled his eyes and stood up, going to what seemed like a projector and turning it on. “Oh before we get to that, that’s Jisung and Chenle, Biology department. Renjun, Psychology department. Mark, Science department. Jeno, art department and I’m part of the History department. Then...” Haechan introduced them one by one, pointing to each of them but stopped, making me look up at him with an arched brow.
“Jaemin’s not here again?” Mark asked, pinching the nose of his bridge while shaking his head. “Don’t tell me-”
“He’s either sleep deprived, going crazy or staying up for another three days with his fifth cup of four shots espresso coffee.” Jeno finished Haechan’s sentence easily. I gaped my mouth open, scoffing in disbelief. “F-Four shots of espresso?!” I half-shouted, my hand on its way to shut my jaw close.
The room was filled with sighs and groans of disappointment due to their mate’s reason for his absence in the play room. “Who’s Jaemin...?” I asked curiously. “I swear he comes to our meetings like never.” Chenle grumbled, clearly ticked off. I took in my surroundings. The tension suddenly became tough and firm after the so-called “Jaemin” was mentioned. I began to wonder what was it about this person that got his members to be so worked up other than not attending the “fraternity’s” meetings.
“Wait. Jeno’s in the art department?” I turned to the guy who had his head phone, looking at his phone before shooting back up to me. “Oh, yeah. I am.” I clicked my tongue. “Never knew you existed till now.” Jeno placed his phone on the table before meeting my eyes again. “Means I’m doing my job well.”
“I’ll force him here next meeting. Anyways, he’s in the architect department. He usually needs to stay up to complete his assignments. Explains his extreme addiction for coffee and staying up for days on end.” Haechan made known, trying to sound reassuring. I simply nodded my head, turning to the screen that projected a video that has yet to be played. It showed someone standing on a stand, leaning into the small mic in front of him. Haechan nodded his head to Renjun, signaling the video to be played. With a press of a button, the video began.
“Mic check 1,2,1,2. Can you hear me?” He had blonde hair and wore a red jacket. “Dear fellow students. The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day. So the reason I’ve turned on this mic today is to talk about the coolest club on our campus. DNYL, Don’t Need Your Love.” He motioned his hand to the screen that showed their logo, along with a group photo of people I didn’t recognise.
“Now, for those that have been dumped, had a breakup or dealing with a broken heart, this is the perfect club for you.” He paused for a moment, scanning his eyes over the crowd as if wanting to engage each and every one of them.
“Have you been cheated on? Do you feel down from all this unrequited love? Are you tired of waiting for that call from your ex? I definitely am.” A bright smile began to crack on his face. “Well, there’s no more of that. You don’t need any more worries and simply let it all go with us. So let’s just have a great time. DNYL, come join our club, and let’s have some fun!” Just like that, the video ended.
“That’s Harvey, our senior.” Haechan pointed his finger to the guy on screen before dropping his hand back down on his side. “The club immediately got disbanded. His batch was the last one to have the club being official.”
“We want to carry on with his club. He recruited all of us, randomly pasting stickers on our desks and chests before he graduated, hoping we’d rise it up again.” Haechan folded his arms as he explained further. I nodded my head as the information sank in. “Then... Why am I being recruited?” I asked the most important question.
Renjun walked up to me, standing firm with placing his weight on one leg, hands shoved into his jean jacket. “Because we’ve noticed how you seem to look like a sore loser during the whole of your time here.”
“Renjun! That’s rude.” Jisung cried out, shaking his head with a big frown. Renjun simply shrugged at his friend’s comment. “Bold of you to assume I’m being a sore loser because of love.” I cocked a brow, which resulted in Renjun looking away for a moment scoffing before locking his intimidating eyes onto mine. “Then why are you a sore loser?”
I couldn’t reply. I was fully taken aback. He was right. Ever since I began college, though my life has been fine for the most part, I was lost. In a daze, in a blank space of nothingness. As if I was being put in a huge desert with no map and no guidance. I didn’t bother making friends either. I had a neutral relationship with everyone in my major, but never one that I’d consider and actual friend. I was lonely. Too lonely to the point where I didn’t feel anything else. I was simply stagnant. And it was all because of him.
“That’s what I thought.” Renjun went back to the couch with a smug smirk on his face, plopping himself in between Chenle and Jisung. “But why have I never seen you guys before?” I questioned. “Because we’re trying to keep a low profile while promoting so the council wouldn’t catch us.” Chenle replied instantly. “Jaemin has no problem doing that. He’s holed up in his dorm twenty four seven. Literally.” Jisung commented.
“So.” Haechan turned to me sharply and confidently. I blinked my eyes rapidly at the sudden action. “Do you want to join us?” I looked around the room again. Everyone’s eyes staring at me with anticipating looks. I bit my lower lip. “I’m given time to make a decision, right?” Everyone turned their heads to each other and nodded with looks of reassurance and hope. Haechan placed a firm hand on my shoulder.
“The fact that you’re considering is already a huge thing for us.”
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I was in deep thought late at night, sitting at my study table with the tip of my pen in between my lips as I bit down it, thinking long and hard about joining the club.
It seemed like a good place. Though it felt extremely intimidating, I picked it up from the get-go that they’re extremely close with each other, meaning that their love for the club is stronger than ever. Throughout, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. And the more I did, the more I began to realise that I’ve been holding onto someone that could possibly never cross paths with me ever again. I was holding on so tightly to the impossible, blinding myself with delusion to the point where I even considered the fact that he could be in this school.
I couldn’t be holding on forever. I had to let go. I needed to accept the fact that he’s someone I’ll meet once in a life time, that short period of time where that person has given me a heaven that could never stay forever. I’ll force myself to let go, leave it all behind, and move on.
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Though I thought I already had my mind made up, I ended up staying in bed for the rest of the day. The plushie I won with him during the trip on one hand, my phone with Haechan’s contact number on the other, waiting for my thumb to press the call button and confirm my recruitment. I thought I could forget, but I never. It never went away, my memories of him. But it always made me crave for him when he’s not there, only making me suffer on the bitter end. I kept telling myself that maybe I’ll slowly let go when I join the club. I was having a battle in my mind, a whole warzone playing out as my contemplation settled comfortably in my mind as if it wasn’t doing any damage to me. 
“Fuck this.” I whispered angrily to myself, lifting my body up slightly to throw the plushie under my bed, laying back down and giving Haechan a call. No turning back, I guess. Haechan told me to meet at the play room with the others right after our classes. They didn’t have an exact meet up time so whoever’s there first would chill and wait till the rest arrived.
I walked into the play room the next day after lecture. Seeing no one, I assumed I was the first one here. I decided to explore the play room for a bit and the first place I decided to go to was the room where Haechan came out from when I first met him. Entering the room, my jaw hung low, mouth open as I saw the sight before me.
It looked like a gaming cafe. There were arcade games on one corner, a lounging area with a comfortable looking couch with fluffy blankets and pillows, followed by smal shelf of books. There was even a large pantry on the left corner. The room was painted a bright muted yellow and the decorations made it look very aesthetically pleasing. “You like it?” I turned around, flinching slightly as Jisung came in and walked past me, holding a large box in his arms.
“Yeah. It’s quite cool actually.” I whispered, still at awe in the room I was in. I looked to Jisung who was at the pantry. He opened the box and it revealed a whole stock of small packet chips. He proceeded to take them out and place it in baskets on the pantry table. “Can I have one?” I asked. He threw me a packet, to which I had quick enough reflexes to catch in one hand.
“Looks like we’re the first ones here.” Jisung said after emptying out the box and shoving it below the table, grabbing one chip packet and opening it. “Mhm.” I replied, popping a chip in my mouth. “I’m surprised you accepted it in one day.”
I shrugged, walking to the couch and placing my tote bag down before taking a seat. Jisung followed behind me, sitting down on the empty space next to me. “I have my reasons.” I nodded firmly. I then turned to him. “If I may ask, why did you decide to join the club?” I questioned out of pure curiosity.
“Could say I have a rough time with relationships growing up. I always had crushes, people I fall for too easily. Had to constantly deal with unrequited love.” He pursed his lips into a thin line. “I actually had one girl in college that I liked. But when I found out she completely fooled me I had a breakdown at the back of the school.” Jisung took in a deep breath before continuing. “That was when Harvey came up to me and talked about DNYL. I have never regret joining.” He lets out a soft chuckle.
“I’m glad you’ve found your place here.” I complimented amicably. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with us.” He flashed a kind and soft smile that didn’t make me hesitate to reciprocate the gesture. “Ah shoot!” Jisung rose up from the couch. I looked up at him with a surprised expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to drag Jaemin here.” Jisung groaned out loud, running a hand through his hair and ruffling it on the crown of his head. “Actually- I’ll just let Jeno handle him.” Jisung said. “But I’m craving for some coffee. Want me to get you anything?” I gave an eye smile in response. “Strawberry tea would be nice.” Jisung breathed a chuckle and downshifted his head. “Alright. Be right back!” Jisung ran to the door and exited, closing the door carefully and quietly.
I smacked my lips, my fingers unconsciously digging into the packet as I continuously shoved chips into my mouth like a machine. I finished it within minutes and threw it in the dustbin. Not knowing what to do, I decided to get my laptop out and finish whatever I can for my coursework. and doing more research. I realised that there was a speaker on the table and decided to use it, blasting hyped songs for me to vibe through my work.
“Jaemin!” Jeno shouted as he slammed the door to Jaemin’s dorm wide open. Jeno stared at Jaemin. He’s in his grey hoodie and sweatpants that Jisung assumed he never changed out of. He had cups and cups of empty Starbucks all laid across the table along with his stacks of paper. Jaemin had his body leaned against the easel where the large piece of paper that had his layout propped on it.
Jeno huffed, walking up to Jaemin and shaking his shoulder vigorously. “Jaemin, wake up. How long have you been like this?” Jeno asked worryingly. Jaemin fluttered his eyes open halfway, looking around lazily and rubbing his eyes before his friend of five years came to view. “Time check?” Jaemin whispered, closing his eyes back for a moment.
“Wednesday, five pm. Jaemin you’ve been up for days. Get some rest at the play room, will you?” Jeno pouted looking at his friend who was completely worn out to the core and obviously concerned for his health due to the amount of coffee he’s been indulging himself in for the past three days.
Jaemin sighed, pulling his hood down and looking at Jeno, forcing a sincere smile to make him look the slightest bit awake. “Can I skip today’s meeting? I can just sleep here.” Jaemin forced himself out of his uncomfortable position against the easel and went for his bed, dropping his almost lifeless body onto it and sinking into the sheets. Jeno sighed quietly, smacking his lips. “Alright. Please just sleep. And clean your damn room it reeks of coffee.”
Jaemin hummed in reply, slowly nodding his head while pulling his blanket over his body and getting comfortable. “I’m just about done with my project. Maybe two more weeks? Then I’ll be back to normal so tell them to not worry about me.” Jeno scoffed, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge. “I think they’re more furious than worried, Nana. They kept complaining when you weren’t there yesterday.” Jaemin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “How’s the promotion coming along?”
Jeno glanced upwards thoughtfully before answering. “It’s... I don’t know. We tried playing our song on college radio but Lee Taeyong called it off halfway and played his song instead. But! We have a new member.” Jaemin’s eyes shot open at the mention of new members. He looked at him, blinking his eyes rapidly. “How many?” “One.” Jeno quickly answered, making Jaemin let out a ‘tsk’ and closing his eyes back. “Just one? Harvey was able to recruit all of us in one go.”
“Tell that to jisung.” Jeno scoffed. “But I mean at least it’s a girl.” Jeno folded his arms and shrugged nonchalantly. Jaemin furrowed his brows. “Girl? Isn’t DNYL suppose to be an all boys club?” Jeno rolled his eyes at his friend’s comment. “Change of rules now that Haechan’s head. Plus, it’s not just the guys that have a rough time with relationships. Girls suffer too. And the club will help them.” Jaemin scoffed in reply. “He used the sticker method?” Jeno hummed in reply.
“And I wonder just what is the girl’s reason for joining the club.”
Jeno raised a brow at his friend, who now seemed to be wide awake and intrigued due to the conversation. “I mean barely know her enough to ask but maybe she will if all members come by.” “Yeah no.” Jeno groaned and rose up from the bed, making his way for the door. He turned to Jaemin, who already had his eyes closed with his chest going up and down soothingly
“Don’t continue being like this, Nana...” Jeno whispered, glancing to Jaemin one last before going out and closing the door behind him.
Once Jaemin heard the door close, he got up, sitting straight and leaning his back against the headboard supported by pillows. After staring into blank space for a moment, he slowly reached for his guitar that was propped beside his bed. He began to strum mindlessly while deep in thought.
Jaemin’s fingers got ready after he made sure that the guitar sat comfortably on his lap. He began to play a common tune, not knowing what song to play. But it didn’t take long for his fingers to play the tune of the song he wrote for her, as if they had a mind of its own. But he couldn’t sing it. It pained him too much that he never saw her again after that trip.
“Fuck I’m stupid.” Jaemin whispered after singing a lyric with a shaky voice, lips quivering with each word being sung out. He leaned his head back on the headboard, biting his lower lip hard to hold back his tears as he continued to strum, his being slowly crashing down and falling apart at the thought of her. 
After about slightly more than half an hour later, Jisung came back with our drinks, followed by the rest of the members entering behind. “Thanks.” I said, taking the tea that Jisung handed out to me. Everyone gathered around in a circle around the couch, some jamming to the song I was playing. But I decided to stop it since I didn’t want to seem rude and have it as a distraction during our time together.
“Jaemin’s sleeping?” Renjun asked. Jeno nodded his head in reply, lips puckered. “He looked so drained and dead. He said that he’ll be done with his project in two weeks time so I guess he’ll be there by then.” Jeno said, leaning back and having his body supported with his two hands behind him. 
“Don’t you think there’s something going on with him though?” Mark questioned, which suddenly led the room to complete silence for a split second before Jisung coughed to break it. “Well we don’t know for sure. Jeno, do you know?” All eyes turned to Jeno. I could only listen and take in information, not knowing the context behind the conversation.
“No. He doesn’t even want to tell me though I’ve been his friend for five years.” Jeno explained. “What’s wrong with Jaemin...?” I asked nervously, afraid if my question was too disrespectful or an invasion of privacy. The air that surrounded us was thick, as if everyone’s on edge and not thinking straight. It didn’t take me long to realise that Jaemin has always been a big factor of this club, having the ability to put his club in such a state even with his absence. 
Haechan licked his lips, looking around as if trying to come up with a way to phrase his answer. “He... Ever since the start of college, we just feel as if he’s here, but also not.” Haechan paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “He never shared why he wanted to join this club. I mean clearly we want to know but we aren’t that nosy to the point where we want to force it out of him. We respected the fact that he didn’t want to share.”
“But we always felt that it was something that impacted him greatly because despite having us, it seems like he’s using work as a way to cope. Again explains his constant indulgence of coffee. He’s been quite closed off to us for a long time but he’s getting better... I guess.” Renjun added on. I could tell that the last part was filled with uncertainty, him not being fully satisfied with his explanation but refuses to add on any further. “He’ll come around. We can just hope. But for now...” Chenle trailed on, taking a seat next to me and wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders. “Let’s have a fun welcome party for our new member.”
We ended up watching a movie. Specifically a scary movie after we ordered take out. “You guys are serious scaredy-cats!” Haechan laughed, taking a bite of his chicken and leaning forward closer to the TV screen while all of us had our eyes covered by the pillows we were holding up. Renjun smacked a pillow on Haechan’s head, making everyone laugh and have the room filled with lightness out of simple humour.
“Don’t act so brave, idiot.” Just then, a jumpscare came up, making everyone jump on their seats and Haechan screaming at the top of his lungs out of pure fear which made Jisung fall of the couch from shock. “Haechan!” Jisung shouted, groaning as he went back up to sit on the couch. Haechan turned around, forehead creased and face scrunched up. “Not my fault!”
“Shut up you literally acted as if you weren’t scared like one minute ago!” Chenle fired his words at full speed. And everyone, especially Mark’s laughter really lit the room’s atmosphere and making me feel a whole lot better already. Haechan told me that the club didn’t have a specific goal or anything, we were all just here to have fun, forget our problems.
It was a long night. After movie time we played arcade games, which was just all of them being extremely competitive except for me and Mark who were simply laughing in the background like spectators watching an intense scene with many complications that we couldn’t help but laugh at. We did everything that the play room offered. And throughout the whole time, I really felt happy, truly happy. I wasn’t stagnant. I actually felt the joy from hanging out with them. It’s as if I’ve forgotten the fact that I’ve felt so alone all this time, and opening up to feelings that I’ve never experienced in a long time.
I checked the time. It was one in the morning surprisingly. We all huddled around the couch, I was wrapped in the blanket while the others hugged their pillows. They dimed the lights and I swear I could doze off in any second due to the night we just had. “Hey, _____?” Jisung called out to me, making me turn to him and humming in question.
“Why did you want to join this club? I mean I know you didn’t come willingly but what made you accept our offer?” I puffed my cheeks, blowing them out after a moment. “It’s a long story but to cut it short, I met someone while I was on a trip at the beach. We connected so much. But we didn’t get each other’s names, or numbers, anything that’ll lead us back to each other once we parted ways.” I chuckled to myself, running a hand down my face.
“And I simply felt that I couldn’t be mindlessly searching for him without anything to lead on. I was wasting time, waiting for someone that’ll never come back. I guess I just wanted to join to forget.” I raised my shoulders up, the blanket covering half my face i. doing so. I would’ve cried and broke down if I were to tell the story in full. I was shocked at myself for not even breaking a tear or cracking my voice.
“How were you guys dumb enough not to exchange numbers? Even names! Isn’t that a basic thing to know about someone you just met?” Chenle asked, sounding concerned and intruiged as if wanting to know more about the whole ordeal. I laughed, shaking my head, thinking about how ridiculous it is going to sound out of my mouth.
“I don’t know how to explain exactly. But I guess we made that silent agreement to stay as strangers as a way for us to be who we want to be in front of the other without being judged one bit. We didn’t know each other’s backgrounds, so whatever we wanted to portray to the other was what the other got to see. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“But we showed, so much of ourselves to each other. Our relationship grew so deep in the span of two months. He was like... a familiarly unfamiliar stranger. If that makes any sense.” I moved all my down to fall on one shoulder, combing my hair with my fingers as I pursed my lips into a thin line.
I suddenly realised that we were in those “deep late night talk” vibes. It felt somewhat comforting, having a place where I could just let it all out. They made me feel safe and secured, everyone nodding their heads and letting my words sink in. “That’s a much more deep reason than what any of us have.” Haechan whispered, everyone nodding their heads firmly with affirmation.
“Well I can’t be dwelling on the past forever.” I smiled, one that I didn’t have to force out. “What time do you guys’ classes start tomorrow?” I asked with a raised brow of curiosity. “We all start in the afternoon.” Jisung suddenly gasped, making everyone’s heads turn to him. “Can we have a sleepover since we’re all here and cozy?” Jisung’s face lit up in such an adorable manner that made me laugh softly.
“Should we?” Jeno asked copying the smile I had on my face while we all exchanged looks. “I don’t mind. I have an eleven am lecture but I can go back to my dorm before then.” Jisung clapped his hands in excitement, shaking his body around happily. “Great!”
And that’s what we ended up doing. We kept up with the late night conversation, talking about anything and everything, going deep with our emotions and pouring it all out in our circle to be kept within us and us only. I was surprised at how much they shared with me despite it being my first day in the club but I liked that I was being trusted, it made me feel important. Eventually all of us slowly drifted off to sleep. But Jeno was wide awake. He couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the girl that had her head thrown back lazily as she snored softly in her sleep. With folded arms, his eyes narrowed down on her intensely, deep in thought.
“How am I going to tell him if it is what I think it is...?” Jeno whispered ever so softly, almost inaudible to himself. His head was spinning, countless of thoughts running through his mind. He was in a daze, not sure of what to do as if sandwiched between two options that he so desperately want to remove himself out of but can’t, for his best friend.
Digging deeper, he began to wonder what would be the aftermath of the different options he had laid out in front of him. This only sent him further down into the loophole of contemplation and confusion, not to mention the fact that he might be late for classes now due to staying up this late.
Morning came. I woke up, eyes half opened and just barely awake. I looked at the time on my phone. 9:05. Perfect amount of time for me to head back and get ready before class. I looked around, the room still dark due to the fact that there was little to no sunlight pssing through the cracks of the door. I slid myself out of the couch slowly and carefully. While trying go shimmy myself through the boys, I noticed a post it on Jeno’s shoulder. I leaned in, squinting my eyes to get them to focus.
“Wake me up before you head out, thanks.” My eyes flickered back and forth from the note and to Jeno who was sleeping peacefully. I puckered my lips, poking his shoulder gently. “Jeno? Wake up?” I urged with uncertainty. Jeno was quick to shoot his eyes open, glancing sideways before squinting his eyes to get his focus on me. “Thanks.” He whispered, sitting up and snatching the post-it from his arm to crumple it and throw it out in the dustbin.
“You could’ve woken up way later.” I said. Jeno hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I didn’t have the best sleep last night. Was scared that I’ll be late for class.” Jeno smiled softly at me, a tired but sincere smile. “Have a good day at class.” I bid him goodbye with the downshift of my head, exiting the play room and coming out of the common room to the basement.
Just as I was walking, I had my eyes glued on the floor. But I saw a figure speed walked pass. I glanced over my shoulder, the figure disappearing in a flash as they took a turn and entered the play room. I stopped for a moment, taking slow steps backwards till I reach the door, eyes squinting as I tried to think about who the person was. I peeked my head ever so slightly, not being able to get a clear look due to the darkness. However, I could tell it was a guy wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants. Having his hood on, his identity was completely concealed from the world’s view.
“Jaemin? What are you doing here. Go sleep at-” A slam of the door was heard right after, cutting Jeno’s words off entirely with the room falling silent again. I blinked my eyes rapidly. “That was Jaemin?” I asked myself, slowly walking in the direction I was headed before.
In the play room, Jaemin dropped himself face first into the couch that was empty now that she’s gone. Jeno pushed Jaemin’s leg to give him space to sit at the edge. “Why’re you here? I told you to sleep in your dorm where it��s comfortable-”
“I just wanted to sleep with you guys here.” Jaemin cut the other’s words quickly with a mutter. Jeno rolled his eyes, looking at how Jaemin had his hood up so much that it was covering half of his face. “You do know that _____ just left, right? Didn’t you see her on your way here?” Jaemin gave a light shrug, hugging himself with his arms wrapped around his torso.
“_____? Note taken. I genuinely didn’t care enough to notice.” Jaemin replied with much ignorance. Jeno clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his friend’s behaviour. “Jaemin, she’s a new member. At least talk to her soon. Also...” Jeno began, making Jaemin look to him slowly with uncertainty. One word from Jeno and he knows it’s be something serious. “You obviously won’t believe me but...”
“I think she’s the one.” Jeno whispered as he stared at Jaemin, their eyes locking its contact with each other. The air between them was nothing but silence, Jaemin resonated Jeno’s words ever so carefully in his mind, making sure he heard that correctly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. No one can be her.” Jaemin shot back with full denial, refusing to believe Jeno.
“But Jae-”
“Please, don’t talk about her. My heart can’t bear it at all.” Jaemin’s eyes grew soft with his words. Jeno could tell that he was breaking, slowly and silently. As much as he wants to help Jaemin, he can’t do anything if he refuses it, shutting the world out and dealing with it by himself. It was big enough of a surprise that Jaemin shared what happened with Jeno. He couldn’t possibly ask for more.
“Alright. But I’ll be saying ‘told you so’ once you meet her. That I know for sure.” Jeno slouched into the couch more, closing his eyes and wanting to rest them before class later in the afternoon while Jaemin was already asleep and snoring softly.
However, despite Jaemin’s eyes being closed, his mind was wide awake with his gears turning in his head. She can’t possibly be in this college. It couldn’t have been her that he walked past mindlessly moments ago. For some reason, he wanted to fully denial it. He didn’t want to believe Jeno at all. But how could he not? Jeno’s his best friend so why would he even lie? What was the reason for Jaemin’s strong delusion? The longer he thought, the more he realised that it was maybe the fact that he was too afraid to face her if she were to ever stand in front of him. Who knows what could have happened to someone you didn’t see in years? People change, and Jaemin was afraid as to how she did.
I wasn’t over at the play room everyday. But if I was, there’d always be someone there for me to hang out with. It was only during the weekends when the whole group would gather together and spend the day free of worries to escape from their realities. Two weeks have passed, and I have yet to encounter the Jaemin that everyone kept worrying over. I was holding in my curiosity for far too long.
“Hey, guys?” I asked after placing a card down. We were playing Uno. I nudged on Mark who was sitting beside me, telling him to place a card. Everyone turned their heads to me, some humming while others had their brows raised. “When can I meet Jaemin? I’m getting quite impatient.” I said with a frown on my face, hearing Mark slamming his card down and shouting, “Plus four, Renjun!” Renjun groaned, sliding one card at a time off the center stack. “He should be here any minute now.” “What do you mean?”
“We sorta guessed that on top of his busy schedule he seems to be avoiding you. Not sure why but we had to lie that you weren’t here so that he’ll come.” Haechan shrugged, it was now his turn, putting a card down. I leaned back slightly, stretching out my back since we’ve been sitting here for hours playing different board games.
“Uno!” Just when Chenle shouted, the door flung open, our heads shooting to the direction. I couldn’t believe what stood at the doorframe. “Jaemin there you are!” Jisung wanted to run up to him but Jaemin pushed him away lightly.
I was met with his eyes. I was in too much of a shock that my mind went blank. I wasn’t able to process any of this. It’s as if time stopped the moment we locked eyes. He’s in front of me, the stranger from the beach. Many emotions began to flood my mind. It was a mix of everything. Happiness, fear, anxiousness, confusion. He’s right in front of my eyes, yet he looked so different. He had jet black hair, his style completely changed too. He had a stoic face, not like the bright and cheerful one I’ve always seen.
“So you’re Jaemin...?”
“_____...”
Jaemin took wobbly steps back, his pupils shaking with his lips quievering as he ran right out of the door. Jeno blinked his eyes rapidly and instantly chased after his best friend. The room was filled with silence, everyone’s eyes still at the door as I was still frozen stiff from whatever that just happened. It went by too fast. My blank expression didn’t show emotions that were overflowing in my small mind.
Outside, Jaemin was running as fast as he could, wanting to not belive whatever he had just seen. She was there. She was in the same room. It took him a matter of seconds to see that she hasn’t changed. He didn’t need time to look at her to know that. But that wasn’t why Jaemin was running away.
“Wait! Jaemin!” Jeno reached for Jaemin’s wrist and forcefully turned him around. “What is going on with you?!” Jeno asked, concern imbued into his tone.
“What do you think, Jeno?! She’s in the fucking room. And the reason why I joined this club was to get over her. Now you’re telling me she’s in the same club which whole purpose is to not fall in love?! H-How do you think I could even stay in that god damn room without breaking at the sight of her? I told you before. I fucking fell in love with her. And seeing her after two years, it just makes me want to fall and melt into the floor since I can’t bare to face up to her after suffering for so long at her absence next to me, okay? I just... It’s too much to handle.”
Tears were pricking Jaemin’s eyes, but for the sake of his pride, he wanted to claim that not a single one fell, releasing Jeno’s grip on him and running. He didn’t know where, all he thought about was to continue running. He couldn’t stand still, he had to do something. And that something was to run away, not wanting to accept that he has to bear all the feelings and everything that comes with having to see her more often, especially in a club where falling in love was forbidden, having it to be the whole reason for the club being made in the first place.
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jekde04 · 3 years
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Hide and Seek
For Gruvia Week 2021: Day 3 - Discovery
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 4
Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser) Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Romance/Humor Word Count: 4,424 words Summary: It was safe to say that this wasn't the way Gray envisioned revealing their relationship to anyone. You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics.
The smell of curry wafted through his bedroom before he heard her call his name.
"Gray-sama! Lunch is ready!"
Really, he would have been happy with a couple of caramade franks delivered to his doorstep. But Juvia would hear none of it, saying he ought to eat healthier homecooked meals whenever he could—an indirect way of telling him that she would cook for him every chance she got. And even though Gray protested that Juvia was unnecessarily tiring herself out, she was the type of person who would go through all the trouble to make him happy. Even if that meant cooking a full meal of his favorite food the day after she just got back from a week-long mission.
Clad only in his boxers, Gray got up from his bed and made his way to his apartment's dining area. It wasn't much, just a square wooden table large enough to seat two people (or four, if you cramp them in). He watched as Juvia—wearing only his shirt that looked too large on her delicate frame—prepared the table, making sure to put extra curry sauce over his rice like she knew he loved.
Juvia moved her chair to the corner of the table so that she was sitting next to him, their arms and knees touching.
"Tsk! Why are you sitting so far from me?" Gray grumbled, pretending to be annoyed.
Juvia glanced at him, confusion evident on her face. "What is Gray-sama talking about? Juvia is almost on your lap." Even so, she moved closer to him so that they were almost squished together.
"But you're not."
With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, Gray picked Juvia up like a plushie and sat her on his lap. She shrieked and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Now that's better," he grinned, one arm around her waist and another across her lap, his fingers palming her exposed guild mark.
"Gray-sama!" Juvia scolded him, a healthy shade of pink blooming on her pale cheeks. "Juvia and Gray-sama should be eating. We already skipped breakfast!"
"So?" He ignored her weak protests as he tightened his hold on her waist and buried his head at the crook of her neck, leaving a wet kiss just below her ear. He could feel her fingers gripping the hair on his nape as he trailed kisses down her neck.
"Gray-sama..."
It was supposed to be a plea to let her go, but it came out huskier than Juvia intended, causing a tightness in Gray's boxers. With all the energy she could muster, Juvia pushed him away and cradled his head between her hands so that she could look him in the eyes.
"Gray-sama needs to eat so he can have more energy—" she kissed him on the lips—"to satisfy Juvia." She sported a sweet, innocent smile, but there was an unmistakably playful glint in her eyes.
Gray smirked. "Am I not satisfying you, huh?" He kissed her hard before she could even answer, and Juvia tried her best not to melt into a puddle right then and there.
"You are," Juvia said between kisses. "But Gray-sama and Juvia need to eat. Our last meal was last night."
"But I only want to eat you," Gray whispered as he nibbled at her ear, his hand sliding dangerously between her legs. Juvia tried to protest, but her voice came out so weak as Gray trailed kisses on her cheek and covered her mouth with his.
A couple of knocks made both of them jump.
"Are you expecting someone, Gray-sama?" Juvia asked, finally getting a chance to pull away, but not enough to completely escape.
"No," Gray mumbled. He couldn't care less as he continued planting wet kisses on Juvia's cheeks, down to her jaws and neck. If he ignored whoever was at the door, that person would surely go away.
A louder set of knocks pounded on his door.
Collecting as much willpower as she could possibly get (given that Gray was practically lapping her up like a cold popsicle on a blazing hot day), Juvia hopped off Gray's lap and straightened herself.
"Gray-sama should answer that."
"C'mon, Juvs," Gray whined, hating how she was suddenly out of his reach. He tried grabbing her wrist, but she quickly pulled her hands to her chest and pointed towards the door. He felt the urge to punch whoever was on the other side.
That bastard won't even know what's coming.
Sighing, Gray started to make his way towards the door when a barrage of knocks once again threatened to take his door off the hinges. It was followed by a voice that sent a chill down his spine.
"Open up, Fullbuster!"
It only took a second for Juvia to recognize the familiar voice and cover her mouth with her hands.
"Erza-san? What's she doing here?"
"How would I know? I told her I was sick!" Gray said, careful not to raise his voice. Not only did he lie to Erza and his whole team so that he could skip their mission—he did it so he could spend time with Juvia, his secret girlfriend for about a month now. After all, she just got back from a mission herself, and they had barely spent three full days with each other since they got together as they were whisked away to mission after mission—he with Team Natsu and she with Gajeel and Lily.
For goodness' sake, they deserved their 'alone time' together. And by that, he meant getting away from the prying eyes of his guildmates.
It wasn't like anyone would be disappointed to learn that he and Juvia were going out. In fact, he was quite sure he would have to endure merciless teasing from pretty much everyone in the guild for at least a couple of weeks when they found out about them.
It was just that with Juvia right here—in his home, wearing only his shirt and her skimpy lacy panties that barely covered her bum—it was safe to say that this wasn't the way he envisioned revealing their relationship to anyone.
"Gray! We brought food." It was Lucy this time.
He took a deep breath. Okay, you just have to show them you're fine and they'll leave you alone. Turning to Juvia, he said, "Hide. In my room. Now."
Juvia nodded and noiselessly scurried off to Gray's room. Though hiding their relationship for the meantime was more of Gray's idea than hers, she definitely didn't want to reveal it by getting caught half-naked in his apartment.
Another series of pounding brought Gray's attention back to his front door. "Gray, I swear if you don't open this right now, I will—"
Gray opened the door and came face to face with a worried Lucy and a frowning Erza, both carrying huge brown paper bags brimming with snacks and fruits.
"Thanks for visiting, but I'm fine. You can go," Gray said in a flat tone. Well, if he wanted to continue his make-out session with his girlfriend, he better get down to business right away and cut his friends' visit as short as possible.
"Hello to you, too," Erza answered the cranky ice mage. Without being invited in, she sidestepped Gray and walked straight to the kitchen, setting down the paper bag she was carrying. Lucy followed, muttering, "Geez, thanks for the warm welcome," and started taking out the food they brought with them.
"Seriously, what are you two doing here?" he asked as he followed them into the kitchen.
"We're being good friends, dummy," Lucy answered him. "You're sick, so we thought we'd make sure you're okay."
"Well, I'm okay. You didn't have to go out of your way for this."
"And just let you starve to death?" Erza asked. Everyone knew Gray couldn't cook an egg to save his life. She found a box of medicines in the grocery bag and tossed it to Gray.
"That doesn't seem to be the case, though," Lucy quipped, her hand holding a barely eaten bowl of curry. "Someone must have already stopped over to cook for Gray."
Gray gulped and tried his best to keep a straight face.
"You know, this tastes like the curry Juvia cooks for us in Fairy Hills," Erza remarked after tasting the dish, a crease forming on her brows.
Oh no, Gray thought. How did Juvia's name come up all of a sudden? And how the hell would he steer the conversation around? His mind drew up a blank, fixated on the fact that Juvia was just a few feet away from being found and he couldn't do a single thing about it.
"Did Juvia drop by this morning to bring you food, Gray?" Lucy asked in a teasing tone, a naughty glint in her eyes.
"Y-yes! Yes, that's what she did!" Gray answered, a little too eagerly. "And then she left right away. For a mission. For three days. Yeah, that's it. She won't be back for three days." Mentally, he thanked Lucy for giving him that perfectly plausible scenario.
"Really? I'm surprised she didn't insist on taking care of you," Erza said. Gray smirked as he remembered all the ways Juvia took care of him since last night.
"Yeah, that's so unlike Juvia, isn't it?" Lucy said, her hand cradling her chin like she was deep in thought. Her eyes shot up to Gray, making beads of sweat form on his forehead. "Are you sure you're not hiding her in your apartment?"
"W-what?!" A furious blush adorned Gray's cheeks. "Why would you think that?!"
He must have looked so exasperated as both girls broke into a fit of laughs.
"I'm just kidding, Gray. You're so fun to tease," Lucy said, while Erza placed her hand on his forehead and said, "I think your fever shot up again."
"Sh-shut up," Gray said, swatting Erza's hand and reverting to his usual poker face. He took a seat and grabbed one of the plates, taking a mouthful of rice in his mouth. Now that Juvia wasn't within arm's reach, he was starting to feel hungry. After all, it had been more than 12 hours since he last ate.
And Juvia, too.
"Look, I'm grateful for all your help, but I'd really like to be alone and rest," he said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I can totally handle myself."
"Aww, don't be like that! We were just teasing you," Lucy said as she sat next to him. She took the other plate of curry and started eating. "This is really good! I haven't tasted Juvia's curry before."
Noticing that Lucy was eating Juvia's share, Gray blurted, "Don't eat that!"
Lucy just rolled her eyes. "Chill lover boy, there's more than enough here for everyone."
"Can't believe you're not just overprotective of Juvia. You're also super protective of her food," Erza taunted as she got her own plate and started putting food on it.
Gray sighed. What should I do to make these two leave?
"Yeah, you're all protective but you're not doing anything about it. Juvia is a patient girl, but you never know when she'd get tired of waiting for you."
"Might be soon." Gray glowered at Erza, but she ignored him and added, "Mira saw her giggling and blushing at her lacrima several times while we were on a mission."
"Come to think of it, you're sick, yet she left on a three-day mission?" Lucy surmised and Erza nodded. "Perhaps she already found someone who would actually appreciate her."
Gray balled his fists under the table. Even though his friends had no idea that he was actually the one Juvia was talking to via lacrima during their mission, he couldn't help but feel a bit mad that they would think Juvia's affections would sway that easily.
"Juvia would never betray me," he snapped before he could even think.
"Betray you?" Lucy raised her eyebrows.
"Why would you call it betrayal? Is she your girlfriend?" Erza narrowed her eyes at him.
"Juvia's not my girlfriend! I don't care about her!" Gray blurted.
It was really more out of impulse than anything else, but he immediately regretted his words when he heard a loud crash from his bedroom.
"What was that?" Erza asked, a sword suddenly materializing in her hand. Lucy grabbed her keys, and both girls stood up and went to the direction of Gray's bedroom.
Oh, fuck.
Gray jumped in front of the two girls with outstretched arms, blocking their way. "Calm down! I'll go check it."
"No, you stay here," Erza said in that no-nonsense tone that would have normally made Gray freeze on the spot, if Juvia's life (and their secret relationship) weren't on the line. He grabbed her arm.
"That's my bedroom, okay? I'll check and you'll both stay here."
It all happened so fast. One moment he was holding onto Erza's arm, and the next thing he knew, she had escaped from his grasp and was heading towards his bedroom just as Lucy turned the knob...
"Stop!"
"Gotcha!" Lucy yelled as she barged into Gray's bedroom, the requip mage right behind her. Erza's eyes darted from the bed to the closet to the tightly shut windows, like a predator looking for its prey. Lucy pulled back his messy sheets and opened his cabinet with a vigor that he seldom saw in the woman. Why does she look so excited?
There was no trace of any living creature anywhere.
A wave of relief washed over Gray when the two women stopped rummaging around his room. Still, he couldn't shake off his worry as he thought of his girlfriend. Did she just manage to hide so well? Or was she attacked? Just the thought of someone laying a hand on Juvia made his stomach turn to knots.
"How could this fall for no reason?" Lucy wondered aloud as she picked up the intact plastic lamp on the floor right beside the bed. She also sneaked a peek under the bed, making Gray's heart thump loudly. But the frown on her face as she got up made it clear that she didn't find anyone there, either.
Sighing loudly, Gray said, "Alright, show's over. No one's here, so get out of my room and let me fix some stuff here." Erza and Lucy exchanged quick glances but didn't resist when Gray pushed them out of his room and slammed the door.
Alone at last, his eyes swept across his disheveled room. "Juvia, where are you?"
"In here, Gray-sama."
A small puddle leaked from under his bed, materializing into Juvia's body. She's safe. He pulled her up towards him.
"Great thinking. I really thought they're gonna catch us. Are you hurt?" Gray asked as he inspected her body. She didn't seem hurt or anything.
"Juvia's okay. She was just caught off guard so she accidentally toppled your bedside lamp." She smiled, but one look at her despondent eyes showed that it wasn't as simple as that. Something was bothering her.
"Was it... because of what I said?"
Honestly, Gray didn't mean anything by it. Saying that Juvia wasn't his girlfriend and that he didn't care for her that way had always been his default defense whenever he was being teased about her. And now it became a habit that wasn't easy to shake off.
When she didn't answer, he sighed. "Come on, you know what I said wasn't true. I just said those things to get them off my back." He captured her hands in his. "I'm sorry."
Smiling at him, she replied, "Juvia understands. Gray-sama should go outside, or Erza-san and Lucy-san would get suspicious."
She still had that forlorn look on her face, which reminded him of how much convincing he had to do when he first bared his feelings for her.
"Juvia's sorry for doubting you, Gray-sama. It's just that he has denied Juvia's love for so long that she finds this all hard to believe. What if she wakes up one day and realizes this isn't real?"
That was when he realized that even though Juvia took his rejections in stride, his words still cut her. He then promised himself to treat her better, not just in actions but also in words.
Even if she was the only one who heard it. She was the only one that mattered, anyway.
Gray moved his hands to her cheeks, cradling her face as they locked eyes. "Hey, you know me, right? You know how I really feel about you?"
Juvia nodded, but he knew the doubts still lingered.
"I love you, Juvia."
And even though he had lost count of how many times he already told her that, her eyes still shone with the same sparkle they had back when she heard those words for the first time.
"Juvia loves you too, Gray-sama."
He gave her a gentle kiss, which would have been perfect and magical were it not for a low grumble coming from Juvia's stomach. She giggled. "Sorry. Juvia's starving."
Gray opened his drawer and handed her a couple of candies. "It's the only edible thing I have here now, but I promise I'll make them leave right away so we can eat together, alright? Just stay quiet." He stole another quick kiss from his girl before he left, careful not to open the door too much.
He found Erza and Lucy huddled together on his couch, keeping their voices low as they talked. When the celestial mage noticed him approaching, she cleared her throat and said, "Hey Gray, are you feeling better already?" She walked towards him and caught his face between her hands, turning his head whichever way and inspecting his body as if looking for some wound or scratch or something.
That was weird alright, but he decided to shrug it off and just focus on the task at hand: kick his annoying friends out of his house.
"I'm good. Get off me," he answered, swatting her hands away. Moving right between the two girls, he draped his arms over their shoulders. "You know, I really appreciate your concern over me, but I can handle myself." He started pushing them towards the door. "I really, really, really want to rest a bit more though—" just a few more steps and he could already reach his front door—"so please leave."
Just when he was about to open the door, the redhead spun around and glared at him. "Hold it. Why are you so anxious to kick us out of your house?"
He froze. "W-well, I told you I'm okay already..."
"Are you sure?" Lucy said, facing him as well. She placed her hand on his forehead and pulled back immediately. "You're burning up!"
"No, I'm not."
He couldn't understand why they kept walking closer and closer to him with an excited look in their eyes. Taking huge steps back until he was almost right outside his bedroom door, he felt like a small kitty getting cornered by two hyenas.
Two crazy, vicious hyenas.
"Perhaps we could give you a sponge bath?" Lucy purred.
"Oh yes, just like when we were kids. I'm sure it'll make you feel all better," Erza added.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?!"
Before Gray could make a run for it, his bedroom door slammed open and a furious Juvia swooshed past him, pinning the two women to the opposite wall.
"LOVE RIVALS!"
But instead of getting scared by the dark aura coming from the water mage, Lucy clapped her hands and let out a delighted squeal. Erza, on the other hand, looked like she had saucers for eyes as she stared right back at the girl glaring daggers at them.
"I knew it!" Lucy yelled. She pointed to Juvia, then Gray. "You two..."
"So, the rumors are true..." Erza muttered to herself, still not believing what she was seeing.
Gray sighed. There was no use hiding things now. And he better do something before his girlfriend water slices two of his best friends.
"Alright, fine." He walked towards them and pried Juvia away from the two girls. "Juvia and I, we're together. Happy?"
That seemed to snap Juvia out of her jealous rage as her head whipped towards Gray. "Gray-sama?"
Lucy let out another squeal, cheeks pink with giddiness. "It's about time! But—" She punched Gray's bare arm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"You didn't ask! It's not like I can just blurt it out in the middle of a conversation!"
"Of course you can!" Another punch. "How can you hide this huge thing from us? If Natsu hadn't told us, we wouldn't even know!"
"Natsu-san?" Juvia asked. "Did Gray-sama tell Natsu-san about us? Gray-sama told Juvia not to tell Gajeel-kun," she pouted.
"I didn't tell him, I swear! Why the hell would I tell that idiot about us?"
"Natsu overheard you talking to Juvia on your lacrima," Erza explained as she straightened her blouse and skirt. "Believe it or not, he was able to put two and two together and figure out that you two were dating."
She then narrowed her eyes at Gray. "And of course, it helped that he heard everything, Gray."
Juvia turned a bright tomato red, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Gray blushed, remembering the nights he spent during their last mission sneaking out of his and Natsu's tent, calling Juvia in secret just to ask her how she was doing. His flush deepened as he also remembered the not-so-innocent conversations he shared with Juvia when he thought everyone was asleep.
Damn that dragon slayer's hearing!
"There's just one thing I want to know," Erza said in her serious tone, which made both Gray and Juvia straighten. She cleared her throat. "Juvia... Gray didn't... forcefully take your flower, right?"
Gray, Juvia, and Lucy all turned as red as Erza's hair. Even Erza looked like she wanted to withdraw her very suggestive question as she couldn't stop the blood rushing to her face.
"Do you really have to ask, Erza?" Lucy whispered, her eyes fixed intently on the floor, finding it interesting all of a sudden. "I mean, just look at them..."
Gray gave out an indignant "Hey!" while Juvia literally had steam come out of her ears as she tried to cover her burning face with her hands. Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to wear Gray's boxers before storming out of his room, although Gray wasn't sure that the sight of them—him wearing only his boxers and Juvia wearing his clothes and not hers—could salvage their situation.
"W-well, o-of course I had to ask!" Erza reasoned amid her embarrassment. "I know I taught Gray how to respect women, but if he took advantage of Juvia in any way, I would—"
"Calm down, Erza-san," Juvia said, regaining her composure as she touched the requip mage's arm to try to diffuse the sinister aura starting to emanate from her. "Juvia swears that Gray-sama has been nothing but a gentleman to Juvia."
"Yeah, how could you even think I would take advantage of Juvia?" Gray asked, slightly offended. "We're both consenting adults and we know what we're doing!"
"And I am glad to know that." Erza firmly patted Gray's back, and he thought he was going to cough up blood from the impact.
"So..." Lucy teased, poking Juvia's cheek and smirking. "You two are doing it, huh? You owe us details on our next sleepover, Juvia!"
"Lucy-san!" an embarrassed Juvia exclaimed, once again burying her scarlet face in her hands. Lucy laughed, mumbling something about finally not being falsely accused of being a love rival anymore.
Now that everything was out in the open, Gray cleared his throat and hollered, "Okay, now that we're all good, can you leave us alone now?" He escorted the two girls towards the door once again, and this time, they complied without any protests, finally leaving the couple to their much-awaited alone time.
Gray slumped on his couch. "I'm sorry about all that, Juvia."
"It's not your fault, Gray-sama," Juvia said as she sat beside him and rested her head on his outstretched arms, Gray instinctively pulling her closer. "The whole guild would most likely know about Gray-sama and Juvia before this day ends."
"Yeah."
Juvia sneaked a peek at Gray. "Is Gray-sama okay with that?"
"Well, it's bound to come out sooner or later, right?" Gray answered nonchalantly.
"Juvia is sorry."
Gray looked at his girlfriend, surprised to see her looking a bit down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Why?"
He barely caught what she whispered. "Juvia knows Gray-sama doesn't want anyone to know."
And then, it hit him.
Taking her hand in his, he lifted her chin with his other hand so that she could look at him. "Did you seriously think I'd keep you a secret forever?"
When she didn't reply, he continued. "It's not that I didn't want anyone to know. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it, announcing it and everything. I thought it would come out naturally, like people would just notice. And I certainly didn't want them to find out this way," he said as he gestured towards their half-naked forms.
Juvia giggled. "Gray-sama probably should not have called Juvia during his mission."
"As if you won't call me," he smirked.
"Juvia just didn't want Gray-sama to miss her too much," Juvia said as she nuzzled closer to him.
"Is that so? But I clearly remember a certain someone jumping into my arms the moment she saw me and telling me how much she missed me."
"And she definitely heard a certain someone say that he missed her, too," Juvia retorted, eyes gleaming at him. "He couldn't even get his hands off Juvia..."
"Hey—"
Juvia shut him up by pressing her lips on his for a long, loving kiss. When they finally went up for air, Gray whispered, "How about we continue where we left off earlier?"
"You mean our late lunch?" Juvia asked innocently.
"Not hungry." But just as Gray said that, his stomach grumbled.
"Oh, really?" Juvia cocked her eyebrows. "Come on, Juvia's hungry, too." With that, she dragged him towards the kitchen, leaving no room for complaints.
Gray let Juvia lead the way, watching her hair flowing down her back like soft ocean waves, all the way down to her long, flawless legs. He smiled.
"Alright. But I'm having you for dessert."
A/N: This came out WAY later than I expected. It was one of those stories that started out really good in my head, but the actual writing process turned out to be a pain in the neck. Now I'm just embarrassed to tag this as Gruvia Week 2021 because I'm more than a month late, lol. But I still would because I'm shameless like that, haha.
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professorsnape394 · 4 years
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The Potions Master’s Apprentice
Chapter Ten: Breaking Boundaries
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A/N: This is the tenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.
Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)
Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.
Word Count: 3188
Warnings: mentions of male sex organ and sexual arousal. 
Credits to Gif Creator
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After a long day of lessons all Aria Dumbledore wanted to do was rip off her uncomfortable heels and change into something she could relax in for the rest of the night. However working with Severus meant that her day did not end immediately after lessons like the other professors' did. With the amount of essays Snape gave out on the daily, it was a miracle he was able to mark them at all, with or without her. She understood now why he never slept, but what she couldn't wrap her head around was why he gave out so many essay in the first place.
At first Severus refused any help from Aria, insisting he didn't need an assistant, but gradually Aria managed to work her way into his routine and soon enough the pair were spending every night together in Snape's classroom, marking essays and making potions.
"Severus." Aria spoke up, as the teachers departed from the Great Hall after dinner, stopping Snape in his tracks. She let her hand rest lightly on his bicep for a second, allowing herself to fall in line as they returned to the dungeons together.
"Miss Dumbledore." He replied coldly, suppressing any thoughts that may have dared entered his mind when he felt her gentle touch on his arm.
"I was thinking... I know we usually spend the evening marking in the classroom, but its just so cold in there and dark too." Aria started. "And we have to squeeze around the desk, with all those papers- "
"What are you getting at Miss Dumbledore." He droned, looking over his shoulder at the woman.
"How about we switch it up for tonight, maybe do the marking in my quarters? Its warm, I have a fire, with couches we can sit at. And if that's not your thing then your welcome to sit at my desk, but I just can't spend another night breaking my back sitting hunched over one. My feet are killing me in these shoes and I'm sick of freezing to death." Aria continued to rant, waiting for Snape to stop her.
"You can stop trying to convince me. Though I may not appear it, I am not a completely unreasonable man, all you have to do is ask."
"Thank god." She groaned, as they turned the corner to the dungeons.
After collecting two large stacks of papers from the potions classroom, the professors made their way along the corridor to Aria's private quarters. Almost immediately after entering the room Aria kicked off her heels, and threw her cloak over the couch.
"Just make yourself at home, get comfortable. I need to go change."
Severus entered the room awkwardly, clutching onto his papers, not daring to touch anything except the air he occupied. For the first time in a long time he felt out of place at Hogwarts. Snape liked to be in control and the way he was able to do that was keeping to the places where he felt most comfortable and had power. As soon as he agreed to spend the evening in Aria's quarters he lost that power and the ability to feel like he had any superiority over the woman. Though he hated feeling out of place, he enjoyed the woman's company, despite the fact he pretended not to, and was willing to make a sacrifice or two in order to listen to her meaningless chatter.
The man slowly made his way around the room, gradually drifting towards her cluttered desk, dropping his papers amongst her own small stacks. Snape couldn't help but be drawn to an open letter Aria had left. His eyes scanned the letter, sickened by its mushy context, but he couldn't seem to pull his gaze away.
Severus was stunned to discover that Aria was in a relationship and yet had not mentioned it to anyone since her arrival. She seemed the type who would boast about the fact, telling everyone and anyone who would listen. It dawned on him that maybe she had mentioned it before, just not to him. After all, why would she? He didn't show any interest in her life, or share any information about himself with her. He had made it pretty clear that they weren't anything more than coworkers, so then why was he hurt by the fact she had not confided in him?
The thought quickly left his mind when the witch reentered the room, leaving him slightly dumbfounded. It was the first time he had witnessed her looking relaxed and casual opposed to the straight laced, well put together façade she put on around the students. Even before the start of term and on their trip to Hogsmeade she maintained an air of sophistication. Looking at her now she appeared as you would expect a 21 year old to appear. Her hair fell around her face in stunning natural beach waves, still a little messy from being held up in a bun all day. She had changed out of her painful heels and uncomfortable work clothes and now appeared in a pair of tight fitting exercise shorts paired with a large oversized t-shirt, that exposed her tanned shoulder and collarbone. Severus couldn't help but notice her lack of bra, but made a conscious effort to keep his gaze fixated on her face.
"What are you doing?" Aria laughed nervously, noticing her mentor standing awkwardly by her desk, staring at her a little too long.
"I was merely looking for a place to conduct my marking, but as the only work space in the room is full of meaningless clutter, then it seems I have no other choice than to move." He growled, over compensating for his earlier thoughts.
Aria went to object but decided it wasn't worth the hassle and simply grabbed her pile and took a seat next to Severus on the couch and got to working.
Seeing Aria in her natural form had Severus mesmerised. He had of course appreciated her attractiveness many times before, but now her beauty seemed more down to earth and natural. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Ever since she had come to his office and bandaged him up, his mind was swarming with thoughts of her once more. The way her fingers gently traced the patterns on his palm as she carefully tended to his wound. Every time he replayed the action in his head a wave of shivers ran up his spine, sending flutters straight to his stomach.
After marking a less than adequate amount of essays, Severus finally gave up trying. Out the corner of his eye he couldn't help but watch as Aria absentmindedly brushed one of her smooth bare legs against the other. His eyes continued to travel up her body, resting for second on a small section of her waist that had been left exposed from the way her top had shifted. Once again he couldn't help but notice the prominent outline of her bare breasts through the slightly transparent shirt. Snape felt his face flush with colour, and chose to swiftly move on. He became entranced as his gaze fell upon her face, watching her read intently, as she nibbled on the end of her quill, letting it bounce slightly between her teeth. Severus could not help his mind rush to a number of scenarios which he quickly dismissed.
Oblivious to the thoughts running through her colleagues mind, Aria continued marking the majority of her essays, before finally giving up.
"How about we take a little break." Aria suggested, throwing another essay on her 'done' pile.
"Very well." Severus agreed, not that he had been doing much anyway.
Aria took the opportunity to stretch her bones, turning her body to face Snape.
"you know, we spend a hell of a lot of time together, but all we ever do is work." Aria commented, standing up from where she had been sat on the couch.
"What are you getting at, Miss Dumbledore." Snape replied, turning his attention to a neglected book he found resting on her coffee table.
"I'm just saying that we're allowed to spend time together, without making it about work. Minerva and I often enjoy afternoon tea together, and I frequently visit Hagrid at his cabin for a chat, I don't see why we have to pretend to be marking essays just to be in each others company."
"I'm not pretending to do anything, Miss Dumbledore. The essays need to be marked, and whether you chose to help me or not, I will be spending my evenings doing the exact same thing either way."
Severus picked up a rogue book from her coffee table, dog-earing the page Aria had left the book lying open on and began to read from the beginning, curious to see what kind of literature she was interested in.
Meanwhile Aria had made her way through to her open plan kitchen and was currently rummaging through a number of cupboards but continued her conversation.
"We're the teachers Severus, the students will get the essays back when we say so, we do not have to rush to complete them as soon as they're handed back to us. Besides it would give the students a little more time in between essays to relax before they were immediately issued another." The clinking of glasses caught Severus' attention, so he too got up, meeting the woman in her kitchen.
"Have a drink." She offered, handing him a glass of deep red liquid, hoping to loosen up his inhibitions.
"I thought you didn't drink." Snape muttered, taking the drink from her.
"Like I said before, I don't drink often, or rather to excess. But if this is what it takes to get you to relax with me, then I'm willing to comprise." She winked, holding up her own glass to cheers the other professor.
"Despite the impression you may have gotten, Miss Dumbledore, I do not rely on alcohol to get through the day."
"I know that." Aria spoke, her tone becoming sadder. "I know that you were drinking a lot before the start of term because of me. I'm sorry I done that to you, I honestly did not think that the two of us having dinner together would be such a scandal. I was wrong, I know that now. But can't we just remain colleagues who enjoy each others company every once in a while." She hoped.
Severus took a deep intake of breath before taking a large gulp of wine.
"You were not the reason I turned to alcohol to drown my sorrows, Miss Dumbledore. Yes, I enjoy a glass of FireWhiskey or Nettle Wine once in a while, and occasionally I feel the need to indulge more than what is deemed appropriate. Usually it occurs in the summer and I have no one around me who cares. It only ever lasts a few days or so, a week at most, and after that I get back on track and its no longer a problem. It is true that your presence may have dug up some unfortunate memories of mine, but it was not your fault." Severus enunciated the last few words of his sentence, reassuring the woman not to blame herself for his small moment of weakness. The way her eyes sparkled in the light as they met his sent a wave of regret over him, wishing he had just accepted the wine and said nothing. An appreciated smile spread across his apprentice's face, thankful she had been reassured.
Professor Snape gulped down some more his of wine nervously, making his way back to the couch, Aria followed closely behind.
"So." He started, once again picking up the abandoned book, eager to change to subject. "I noticed your reading Pride and Prejudice, how are you finding it?"
"Oh." She smiled, biting her lip, slightly embarrassed. "It's one I'm currently reading." She said vaguely, bouncing down on the couch, sitting crossed legged.
"So your into muggle literature? I have read a few myself though I tend to stay away from the Brontes."
"It's Austen actually." She corrected, nodding towards the spine of the book, cradling her still relatively full glass of wine. "I have to admit, I'm a bit useless when it comes to reading. I love it so much, but I'm just too impatient, that's my problem." She laughed, getting frustrated with herself and running a hand through her tangled mass of hair.
Severus watched as she jumped from her seat, quickly collecting a few of the other novels she had left scattered around the place, all of which had been left balancing open mid-page. The woman returned with five or six books in her arms, all of which had been read half way through or almost to the very end, although none had been completely read through.
"I'm a bit of scatter brain, if I'm being completely honest. I've started all of these and every time I find a new book I completely disregard the one I was reading, too eager to start another, before finishing the first. Most of the time I forget where I've left them, so I couldn't finish them even if I wanted to. I swear Severus, If it wasn't for you keeping me on track with the students schedules, I'd go utterly mad and forget what I was supposed to be teaching." Aria let out a huge breath, dropping all of the books down in between her and Snape, before plopping herself down once more.
Snape suppressed the urge to laugh at the woman's dopiness, she was truly a character, but he secretly adored the absurdness she possessed. She kept it hidden so well in front of her grandfather and the students but often when they were alone she allowed her true personality to shine and that is when Severus felt his weakest with her. He could not possibly find a reason to be angry at her when she was feeling vulnerable enough to get comfortable around him.
The Potions Master took it upon himself to inspect each of the novels, before setting them aside, neatly piled high. He did, however, keep a hold of the original book, continuing from where he had left off.
Noticing the man getting engrossed in the book, Aria chose not to bother him with any more of her idle chatter and instead grabbed a notebook and quill from her bedroom and begun sketching. She was content with just being in each other's company and not working that she didn't mind that they were not talking. In fact, one of the things she loved most about their relationship was that they were able to sit in a comfortable silence without either of them feeling awkward.
After a few attempts of sketching objects around the room, she gave in trying and decided to focus on what she drew best. Not wanting to interrupt his train of thought by asking a meaningless question, such as if he would give her permission to draw him, Aria didn't see the big deal and went ahead with her sketch.
An hour or so passed and the couple were deep in their activities and not a word had been spoken since the last. By now Severus had removed his robes, the heat from the fire proving too much, though he still kept himself fully covered by the means of his overcoat. Aria, far too comfortable in her chambers, had now stretched out across the whole couch, her feet resting gently on the side of Severus' thigh, but he was yet to complain.
It wasn't until almost two hours into their activities that Severus thought too look at the clock. Time had gotten on, and usually the pair would have gone their separate ways by now, spending the rest of their nights alone. Strangely Professor Snape did not feel the urge to depart just yet and chose to stay a while longer. Aria had become absorbed in the sketch she was doing, and was not complaining he was still there. This was good enough for Severus. Looking up from her notepad every few seconds, but still utterly engaged in her drawing,  Aria had no idea what was currently going on in Snape's mind.
Once he had broke away from the book back to reality, Snape struggled to get himself to focus again. Instead his mind was preoccupied by how close he had let Aria get to him. He felt her wriggle her toes absentmindedly. It was almost as if she was beating out a tune against his leg, and he was very aware of every movement she made. Her feet had managed to make their way into his lap, and every small movement that brushed against his thigh, had Severus' heart beating faster.
The woman fidgeted relentlessly, her legs shifting in lap and her toes scrunching up against his inner thigh. Snape could not help the reaction his body was having as his assistant brushed against him, but the thoughts that entered his mind, only stimulated the problem he was having. Surely she must know what she was doing to him. The Professor kept his eyes on the page, though he took in none of the words. His face flushed pink, whether from the heat of the fire or his own imagination, he did not know. Snape allowed himself one look at the woman curious to see if her actions were deliberate. As he expected she was completely oblivious to the whole situation, simply sketching away, not a care in the world.
Looking at the woman only worsened the situation. He had tried to keep his thoughts at bay, in order to prevent his throbbing penis from doing what penis' do best. But seeing the young woman lay there in front of him, her body so close to his, rubbing against him. Severus could take it no longer. He felt himself growing, and he refused to endure the humiliation had she to notice, let alone the frustration that he would be able to do nothing about it.
Without warning Snape jumped from his position on the couch, grabbing his robes, and leaving the book where he sat. "It's late. I have to go." Was all he said bluntly, slamming the door as he practically flew from the room.
Aria Dumbledore had no words to say. She was less shocked by his sudden departure than the fact he had actually stayed with her all evening, spending some time together, in their own unique way. Abandoning her pad and quill, Aria slipped into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Severus on the other hand did not drift off so easily. He spent half the night damning himself for being so vulnerable and getting himself into that situation, and the other half dreaming of the possibilities that could have happened had he stayed. Though he knew nothing would have happened, even if he wanted it to. She was in a relationship and Snape was not one for physical affection. However, he allowed himself the small luxury of dreaming about her for one night.
Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel
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bread-elf · 3 years
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DWC 2021 - Day 7
Disclaimer: Some sensitive contents in this post are described vaguely, but may not suitable for some readers. Viewer discretion is advised.
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Soul Warlords of Draenor, pre Legion pre-patch Drax’ara Duskrunner feels his bruised and battered body ache, shoulders burning as his arms are wound up tight behind him around the pillar. He knew he wasn’t the only one bound up, so were his brothers as well, captured by a personal enemy of his family. The Orc Warlock prowls around his makeshift prison, taunting and humiliating his brothers with obscene gestures and torture tools. He can hear the rage stemmed in his brother’s groans and yells. Not only that, he could hear the sniffling and sobbing of some of the women that were trapped here with them. Completely innocent of these transgressions, just having had the unlucky circumstance in having an romantic interest in the brothers. One of them didn’t even have a genuine interest in one of the brothers, a small human woman by the name of Amber, who had just enjoyed spending time with one of them as a friend.
Drake kept his eyes closed, hearing all the sounds of distress and torment around him. But there was one he couldn’t hear, though he knew she was here somewhere, bound up just like him. Dread filled his heart, not knowing the state of her condition. Once again he tries to call forth the Shadows he uses so often, but runes etched onto his skin flare up and he gets singed by them, forced to stop as the pain rockets through his body. “You should know by now that isn’t going to work.” The Warlock begins to tread near, as if he had been watching in secret all this time. Drake might have believed that, if it wasn’t for the fact in his hand he held a pair of bloodied forceps. “When I get out of here…” Drake begins to threaten, but it’s cut off as he shudders in pain. He tries to contain it, but the old Orc starts to let out a raspy laugh. “Hahaha! Oh no no no, Duskrunner, you don’t understand-” The Orc’s robes trail behind him as he steps closer, kneeling beside Drake. Once down he rests one arm over his propped knee casually, and the other grabs hold of the Kaldorei’s shoulder. “This is it. This is our final dance. Our feud ends here!” His free hand motions outward, still holding the forceps, and even comes around and taps Drake on the chest with them. “No more games. I’ll be taking what’s rightfully mine; your souls.” Drake spits on him, causing the Orc to recoil a bit. His hand draws away from Drake’s shoulder, and gives the elf a fierce punch. Something snaps and Drake feels his jaw slack after the initial blow. “Wallow while you still have the chance! I’ll be taking the soul of your ‘beloved’ first.” The Orc takes his heavy steps away as Drake begins to struggle with his bindings for the thousandth time. Off in the distance outside Drake could hear some wolves howling. He couldn’t tell where in Azeroth they all were, but it had to be deep in the wilderness and away from any forms of civilization. A few moments later, someone inside the makeshift prison begins to start howling as well. One of the women, it sounded like Amber. But it gets the Orc’s attention, and Drake can hear him storm on over towards where she must be. “You stupid HUMAN!” The Orc roars out, followed by the sound of a loud smack, then a wail from the small human. As the beatings go on Drake hears the wolves from outside howl again. But his heightened hearing picks up something else, his long ear giving a twitch. Some sort of metal was straining, partially covered by the sounds of the howling and fighting. The Orc stops and starts to walk away, but the human begins to once more try to howl again, but oh so weakly. But the Orc rounds back on her again. “What sort of pathetic nonsense are you doing?! Did I break you already?!” Another smack, a hard one, and there’s an immediate silence that follows from Amber. However, there’s suddenly a loud bang, stealing the Orc’s attention. “Huh?” It happens faster than Drake can process. Someone gives a battle cry, and in front of Drake’s view the Orc is suddenly shoved hard to the ground, the culprit a very tall Draenei woman. Clothes tattered and one of her horns missing, she looks battered but by pure willpower she overpowers the Orc by strength for a moment. Yet Drake could hear sounds happening from elsewhere in the area, a low growling as he then catches the scent of wildlife, of wolves. The Orc gains his bearings, and collects his strength. Fel fire is summoned in his hands, harshly grabbing hold of the Draenei who had put him off. The cries out in pain, already weak as is and unable to fight back, and the Orc shoves her away roughly. The Draenei tumbles hard to the floor, Drake unable to do anything, but then more beings scuffle into view. “What the-?!” The Orc is completely surprised by the pack of wolves that barge in, snarling and barking at him as they all suddenly approach. A large pack too, at least ten wolves that Drake could count right off the bat, though his attention is turned away as he sees the small human Amber crawling towards him. Face swollen with bruises and blood, looking far more
than just worse for war, but with trembling hands she crawls up to help undo the bindings that kept Drake in place. Watching her carefully, the skin on the back of her neck bristled almost like the wolves that now harassed the Orc, but Drake didn’t think too deep into it. It takes a moment, but she manages to get him free, and he moves his arms away to begin to stand. The runes that prevented him from using his shadow magic still affected him, but all he needed was his hands to strangle the life out of the Orc. His footing staggers as he steps forward, blood rushing and already having lost some, but he had to help his brothers. Through Amber’s antics others were beginning to get freed as well, the weakest being ushered away, though Drake finds a large pair of shears, old blood stains coating the rusty blades, but it will have to do. “You foul beasts!” The Orc had resorted to throwing fel fire at the wolves, most backing away to avoid the blows but a few still getting seared. “I’ll make rugs out of all of you-” He’s cut off as Drake suddenly intercepts him, the rusted blades aimed for the Orc’s heart, but the old warlock still had hardened warrior senses. And with how weak Drake already is, the warlock manages to outdo Drake in strength and knock the blades aside, and soon enough the Kaldorei as well. “Oh, I have had enough of these games!!” The Orc no longer amused. The fel fire begins to vanish from his hands, and instead an eerie and sickly glow of green attunes them. “You’re going to be the first! Damn the others!” Hands outreached, a zap of energy suddenly penetrates Drake, and he begins to feel his very life essence begin to drain away. “N-No-” Drake tries to stand, but suddenly collapses, getting weaker and weaker by the second. The glow of his eyes began to dwindle bit by bit, finding it harder to keep himself even upright. But the Warlock can only have a few glorious moments of that before he stops abruptly, a choked gasp escaping him as his body lurches from a glaive gouging into his back and through his chest. He stumbles a bit, having trouble processing the blood beginning to spill, but when he falls Drake can see who had the skilled aim to throw. Tattered and beaten much like the others, Jiroki stands there gasping heavily for breath. But her eyes are fixated on the Orc who struggles on the ground, unable to see Drake or anything else around her. “Th-this is n-not- the end-” His voice had become much raspier, beginning to cough and spewing some blood. “I-I will- have-” He can’t finish his words due to the blood, looking right at Jiroki. But the woman holds something out for him to see, a green growing crystal. The Warlock’s eyes widen. “No- NO-” By some miracle the Orc begins to push himself to stand, seeing his soulstone in the hand of the Kaldorei woman. Jiroki collapses to her knees, resting one hand on the stone floor while the other holds up the stone, and she begins to bash it against the ground repeatedly, intent on destroying it. The Orc makes a rapid succession of steps towards her, but Drake then plows right into him and knocks him over, keeping the Orc down with whatever last bits of strength he can muster. The soul stone cracks and pieces crumble off as Jiroki continues to smash it, some bits cutting into her hand and even smashing her fingers hard on the pavement, but she’s not content until the inner core is ruined and it breaks into pieces. An expulsion of foul magic emits from it, causing her to recoil back, but not recoil as badly as the Orc begins to do. His soul fragment being torn asunder, and the rest of his soul having nowhere else to go as his own life essence fades. To the very last he tries to rebel, until he’s an angry, bitter mess on the floor. Drake shoves the body away from him and starts to crawl towards Jiroki, who began trying to smash remnants of the crystal into more pieces. He reaches forward and snags hold of her wrist, trying to get her to stop, but she fights back and tries to persist for a time longer before he forces her into her arms. “Stop, stop-” Trying
to call her back to her senses. “He’s dead, you did it, stop-” Jiroki can’t even tell that it’s Drake trying to grab her, screaming at him and trying to pull away. Though shortly her body begins to tremble as it sinks in, her anger vaguely ebbing away just enough. The moment a sob forces its way out of her he claims her and rests his head over hers, holding her tightly as she then clings to him. @daily-writing-challenge
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pterodactylterrace · 4 years
Text
Title: Guys Like You
Chapter: 3
Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea
Rating: 18+ for later chapters
Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Friday had been a strange day for Faye.  First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.
Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.
Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?
Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.
"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.
The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.
There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.
"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.
"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.
"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.
"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.
"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."
"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.
"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."
"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.
"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.
"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.
"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.
"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.
"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.
"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.
"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.
"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.
"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."
"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.
"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."
"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.
"You need one."
"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"
"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.
"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.
"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.
"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.
"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.
"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."
"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"
"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.
"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.
"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"
"They are around here somewhere."
"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.
"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.
"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"
"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."
"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.
"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."
"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.
Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.
"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...
"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.
And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.
It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.
"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.
"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.
"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.
"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.
"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.
"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.
"What on your face?" Briar asked.
"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.
"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.
"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.
Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.
Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.
"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"
Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.
Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.
"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"
Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.
Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-
"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"
"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.
"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."
"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"
"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"
"Umm... either is fine."
"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.
Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?
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