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really think i need to make more irl friends, but it feels so impossible. like most of the ppl my age seem to only hang out in bars, and it’s like sorry, i’m uncool and can’t drink, bc i’m on medication. and making friends via dating apps or something similar is abysmal. so, i’m kinda stuck imaooooo
#i’m aware not everyone hangs out in bars but might have reasons why they can’t hang out#elsewhere like in coffee shops or restaurants or parks or something#bc i certainly do#maybe there’s people who feel the exact way i do and can’t or don't want to leave the house bc of extenuating circumstances#like it’s difficult for me to leave the house#do i want to? yes but that doesn’t negate the difficulty#trying to make friends in general feels like pulling teeth#after a lifetime of autism and social anxiety i’m literally not fully convinced i even know how to communicate i just fell ass backwards#into stuff a lot of the time#trying to put myself out there in any way is literally so incredibly cringe to me#even if i do want to but again doesn’t negate the difficulty#but also again don’t know how to talk to people so even if by some miracle i make friends i might not get to keep them#idk it’s all just so frustrating#i envy the people who can make friends no problem and can talk to people and talking to said people doesn’t wear them out even if you really#like them bc social interaction is exhausting with anyone#but like it’s obviously worse when it’s new#bc small talk actually makes me want to stick forks in my eyes#i wish it were easy but it isn’t#idk i want my independence back and i want my freedom and i want irl friends again#and i want the world to stop feeling so closed off bc i know it isn’t#it’s just hard to see it that way from being bed bound most of the time#and that isn’t gonna change anytime soon#but i wanna open up the world again and i wanna go outside#and making irl friends is part of but i have absolutely no idea where to start#and the cycle continues#christ i almost wish i were back in college with the ‘girl gang’#i mean i felt like a huge outsider to them but at least i kinda had people to hang out with#idk desperately need to open my life up again bc literally no one can live like this and i’ve already been manic once this year#and i’d like to not be in that bad of a place again if i can help it#but idk what to do currently so 🤷🏻♀️
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claire's not expecting them to be at the door. she blinks at the sight of four men all huddled on the stoop with flowers and what appears to be bags of food flowing from their arms. jack is peeking above a bouquet, beaming at her.
"who's at the door?!" jody calls from the kitchen, her voice muffled by the sound of grease popping and the clanking of pans and spatulas meeting over and over.
"god," claire calls back, because she likes to think she's funny.
there's a beat of silence, and then jody's sticking her head out the kitchen. the moment she sees them, she breaks out into a grin and saunters over, shoving the spatula in claire's hand as she chatters away.
"what's going on out there?" donna asks as claire escapes back to the kitchen to poke at food jody is apparently willing to burn just because the winchesters decided to show their faces today of all days.
"judgement day," claire says dryly.
donna shares a look with patience. "haven't we dealt with that already a few times?"
"only by association," claire admits, "but i wouldn't put it past them to bring it along with 'em now. the boys are here."
"oh, isn't that nice?" donna chirps, already popping up from her chair. "i didn't know they were stopping by today."
"wonder how sam's doing," patience agrees, wandering out the kitchen right along with donna. claire can hear everyone cracking up and talking in the living room.
trust the winchesters to shake things up just by showing up. can't have one goddamn day, can they? well, that's not true. in their case, as far as claire is concerned, they're shitty for showing up and shitty for not. someone has to knock 'em all down a peg or two, so she might as well be the one.
"what did that chicken ever do to you?" kaia asks teasingly as she sidles into the kitchen and stops by the stove, hip-checking claire out of the way to take over.
"the boys are here," claire informs her.
kaia raises her eyebrows. "like, the boys as in the winchesters, or is this a milkshake pun?"
"i can only be so gay, sweetheart," claire says, shooting her a flat look.
"raise the bar a little. could be gayer. you can always be gayer," kaia teases, reaching out to sneak her hand around claire's hip, her eyes bright with amusement.
"you know what? you're right," claire agrees and immediately tries to cop a feel while kaia laughs and dances out of range.
jack appears in the doorway. "hello," he says, whispering for some reason. "claire, i need your help."
"no," claire says, not even glancing at him. she continues to try and put her hand up kaia's shirt, just to see her laugh.
"can i borrow twenty dollars?" jack asks.
"no. aren't you god?"
"yes, but i don't get paid to be."
"well, sucks for you. borrow money from cas," claire mutters, settling in behind kaia as she focuses on the food on the stove, swatting lazily at claire's roaming hands.
"he'll just borrow money from dean."
"borrow from sam."
"he'll just borrow money from dean."
"borrow from—wait, why does it matter if it's from dean? just borrow from him."
jack huffs. "i can't. i need the money for dean. i have a card, and i read online it's customary to give money with a card. also, will you sign it?"
"you got dean a card?" claire asks, craning her head around to stare at jack skeptically.
"yes."
"don't tell me it's for what i think it is."
"mother's day," jack confirms unironically.
claire wheezes out a laugh. "oh my god."
"there's a pen in the catty on the fridge," kaia says, clearly amused.
"yeah. yeah, this is—yeah." claire chokes on more laughter and stumbles towards the group of pens in the magnet container on the fridge. she waggles her fingers at jack, clearing her throat, lips twitching. "hand it over, beanstalk. you're a fucking genius."
"oh! thank you," jack declares cheerfully, passing over the card. "so, can i borrow twenty dollars?"
"hell no," claire says. she braces the card against the fridge and swallows down a laugh. sam has already signed it. this just gets better and better. happy mother's day, old man, aka the secondary source of my mommy and daddy issues. you're going for gold with this double-whammy, she writes.
"but i need it," jack insists, staring at her with wide eyes.
claire shrugs. "tough break, kid. what, cas doesn't give you an allowance? is it just me, or are dads getting stricter these days?"
"i didn't think about it in advance," jack admits sadly. "i want to do it right for the holiday. it's mother's day, claire."
"i'm well aware. sorry to break it to you, kid, but last I checked, your mom's as dead as mine," claire tells him, her voice flat. he frowns and she forces herself not to feel bad. everything that sucks for him sucked for her first, so her sympathy levels are a little drained. "father's day will roll around eventually, and you've got a long line of those, so wait your turn."
"i've already done something for my mother today," jack says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "i visited her in heaven."
claire snorts derisively and passes the card back over. "must be nice."
"it was," jack agrees, completely missing the point. "i really can't borrow twenty dollars? i'll pay you back."
"nah," claire says. "who cares anyway? wait, why is dean the mom?"
"well, castiel is my father."
"ah, so it's about them having the hots for each other, then? really, kid, you coulda just made dean your step-dad."
jack blinks. "they have the...hots for each other? you mean sex. they have sex?"
"you know what?" claire points at him with her free hand. "i'm not gonna burst your bubble on that one. you've got enough issues on your own without wondering if mommy and daddy still have a spark, so I'm gonna leave that alone. i've got five dollars. take it or leave it."
"deal," jack says immediately.
money is exchanged, and jack looks like he's on cloud nine. claire's just stoked to see the expression on dean's face when he gets the card. it's a homemade card and everything, nothing like the two claire, kaia, patience, and alex got for jody and donna.
claire helps kaia finish up the chicken, which promptly gets set aside to wait on the rest of the food in the oven. sam wanders in at some point to drop off the food they brought. dessert, by the looks of it. pies and cakes that go in the fridge. it's kind of them, but claire would shoot herself in the foot before she ever admits it.
she lets kaia tug her into the living room where everyone is already at, rolling her eyes at how cheered everyone seems just because the winchesters happened to grace their doorstep. really, they all suck.
but also—and claire will never admit this, not even to save her own life—it's nice to see 'em again. it's nice that they've come to celebrate the day in jody and donna's name, giving them flowers and such. it's nice that they hang around for a bit and don't bring the world crashing down on everyone for the duration of their stay.
and, well, it's nice to see cas, too.
he perches up next to the couch that claire is squeezed on with alex, donna, kaia, and jack. kaia is practically in her lap, but claire is secretly glad for the excuse. while everyone talks and has conversations across one another, cas focuses entirely on her.
another thing claire will never admit is how reluctantly pleased by that she is. it warms her. stupidly, it turns soft and gooey in her chest that he automatically gives her his undivided attention over everyone else, even jack. but, then again, it's not cas' day, so she doesn't have to look too close to that feeling. it's mother's day, so it's not about him.
when the food is ready, they reconvene in the kitchen, and that's when they crack out the cards and gifts. claire is practically vibrating with laughter before jack has even brought his card out. before that, though, she smiles softly and strokes kaia's thigh under the table as jody and donna read their cards and chuckle at the messages, their gazes warm and their smiles sweet. they look happy. they deserve to be.
"okay, last one," claire announces, grinning at jack. she's starting to think she likes this kid if he's an agent of chaos like this.
and okay, maybe she hates him a little in abstract, but in detail, she finds that she does actually like him. you kinda just wanna put him in your pocket without meaning to, she's learned. there's too much to explore with the whole psuedo sibling thing and parents that aren't parents, as well as parents that are but didn't choose to be, only he did choose one of them, and it wasn't her. it's complicated, but underneath it all, there's a vibrant love there that she can't look directly at. sometimes, she despises that she's included in it; yet, just the same, she's thankful that she is.
"oh hell," dean mutters, swinging his gaze between alex and patience. "one of you...ya know? did we miss something?"
claire snorts.
"what? no," alex replies, grimacing. "i have no idea what claire's talking about. claire, what the hell are you talking about?"
"jack?" claire prompts in a wheeze.
"here you go," jack chirps, holding out the card to dean, beaming. "happy mother's day."
the expression on dean's face is somehow even better than claire imagined. she howls with laughter while sam buries his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking. cas squints at jack, and jody's eyebrows fly up at the same exact time that donna grins.
"is this a joke?" dean sputters.
"no, no, nope," claire chokes out, nearly fucking crying with laughter. "happy mother's day, dean."
"you gotta take it, man," sam agrees, clearing his throat and biting back a smile as he bobs his head dutifully towards the card.
dean fixes sam with a flat look and snatches the card. "you're all so fucking—sam, you signed it?!"
"happy mother's day," sam says, his mouth pinched, visibly trying not to laugh.
"do you like it?" jack asks earnestly. "i made the card, sam signed it first, and claire provided the money."
"i—" dean stares down at the card, then heaves a sigh and looks up at jack. it's clear to him that—out of everyone—jack is clearly taking this very seriously. he offers him a weak smile, then swallows. "yeah, s'great, kid. thank you. sam, you are dead to me. claire, i will be spending this on something you hate. cas, this is somehow your fault."
"yup, sounds like a mother to me," jody declares, holding up her beer with a smile.
"welcome to the club," donna agrees, holding hers up as well. "everyone else annoys the shit out of you, but you love 'em anyway."
dean sighs and clinks his beer to theirs.
#sobs adventures in writing#happy mother's day to all the spn moms!!!#dreamhunter#destiel adjacent#sort of?#look i just wanted to write something cute okay let me have this lmao#sobs says things#claire bear#jack jack#dean bean#cas bby#jody mills#donna hanscum#kaia nieves#spn ladies#sammeh
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Group Sex With SuperM
SUMMARY: creating a group chat is all it takes.
↳ A/N. yep, we’re going there.
words. 14k
WARNINGS ⚠️ friends to lovers hc, porn with plot, idol au, sex w/ all members individually and together, dom/sub dynamics, corruption kink, sexting, blowjobs & cunnilingus, gaping, graphic, pegging, bondage, light foot fetish, sex toys, spitroasting (m receiving), brat taming, dick riding, protected sex, doggystyle, cuddling aftercare
curious about an eightsome are we
understood
how’s the state of things then?
last september you decided to open an entire group chat just for planning your juicy sexual activities together
and oh lord is it active
and full of ideas
and explicit videos
and emojis
and excitement
yesterday taemin sent a clip of lusciously covering himself in champagne foam for you
wearing close to nothing
in fact just a piece of gauze, a snake-shaped necklace, and probably a bit of perfume
oh boy
watching that was an out-of-body experience for sure
the entire chat basically imploded with reactions
but hey hey
not so fast
we need to go through everything from the start
to see how all these utterly historic events happened to unfold
so where did all that come from?
first off
befriending super m outside work (eating together, fooling around, bingwatching stuff, you know)
...means there’s no point nor chance in having a permanent favorite with a group like this
every member truly is the creme de la creme
super m is the package of the entire packages
they are so legendary you can bias each member for one day of the week
and never run out of that pure bliss
in fact
you all agreed to do exactly that on a regular basis to get to know each other casually
it just naturally happened
seven days seven members that’s just logical
you can’t always hang out together in full attendance so you split up your times and set specific days
you change that routine very often depending on your individual moods
but it usually goes like this because you want to develop closer bonds with them one-on-one
so this is how it ends up
mondays you work out with xuxi. oh, that sexy smiley man. his body is the ultimate bomb. is there something better than doing sit-ups next to him? anybody’s sports motivation would go through the roof. and if there’s someone you call to share a pile of food with? it’s just gotta be him. being with yukhei is self-care.
tuesdays, you visit ten to check out his latest dance moves. and: to have a huge cuddle session with the cats. sometimes, you watch whatever series you’re in the mood for. it’s always a time to slow down and mend your sore muscles from monday anyway. you think ten is so interesting and talented, and super pretty, truly one of a kind.
on wednesdays jongin and you often end up on long midnight walks with the dogs or you both look after his cute nieces. meeting up at the river han is a staple, you get ice cream and snacks. you adore kai because he’s a sweetheart and steadfast person, and admittedly... so damn hot, holy hell. being with him makes you feel great.
thursday is baekhyun day and full of cheeriness as you’d expect. long hours of gaming, cheeky skinship, banter, and pizza eating await you at his apartment. you adore this mochi for his everything, he makes you laugh uncontrollably so much. sometimes, you also comfort him when he doesn’t feel good about himself or exhausted from practice. he will sing anything you want, baekhyun is like your personal 24/7 radio station.
fridays it’s time for the studio. mark is crafting his most fire bars and loves to have you around there. you inspire him a lot. he’s just completely astounding and the sweetest to you. friday most people would go clubbing, but super m just has to meet up in the studio. no paparazzi, and the music is obviously danceable. i’m telling you: this mob can jop, duh.
saturday is for handsome taeyong who loves coming to your home. cooking, organizing, doing the laundry, and browsing youtube together is the best thing. taeyong is the shyest goodest boy and a great listener. he gives great advice and is the epitome of respectful. you just vibe very well together.
sunday you dedicate to taemin. you watch artsy films, experiment with outfits, and he plays the piano for you so expertly. man, you are lucky. he’s like a fairy to you, and a connoisseur, a mythical figure almost. since he’s a newly-found cat dad, you easily fill your day playing with the most interesting kitten that is lee kkoong. sometimes, you even meet shinee members dropping by.
so yes this is what paradise looks like
and they all love to engage with you in their own way and you develop favorite ways to spend time, they put so much effort into this
it goes without saying that you all realize how hard you’re crushing as the weeks pass
like can you imagine
all the hormones i swear
you’ve already been joking to them that you have seven boyfriends some months ago
well the prophecy is fulfilled faster than you can blink
when you meet up as eight for a movie night at baekhyun’s, the atmosphere feels pretty frisky
because lucas is sending you ten thousand glances and certainly nobody misses that
if this guy is laughing at your every word i mean
meanwhile taeyong is having a nervous meltdown at your every comment about the movie, it’s ridiculous, he’s smitten as fuck, he looks at you like you’re an actual goddess
mark keeps on making glimmering eyes at you as well, and he asks you if you want popcorn every two minutes
baekhyun is all curled up close to your lap and not even watching the movie because his face is almost nuzzled into your sweater for fuck’s sake
taemin has spent the entire preperation in complete frenzy making sure there are scented candles everywhere and the snacks are exquisite and costly. mother taemresa? at full throttle. he even used his own damn credit card.
meanwhile kai suffers from his fidgety legs, constant hair fixing and even more inability to concentrate on the movie
because damn, he knows he wants your attention. he literally came around with the tightest shirt he owns so there’s that. you can see every little muscle doing its thing when he does as much as breathe. kai is now well aware he came to impress. it won’t take him a lot to realize he wants to be even closer to you than doing midnight walks.
ten is so firmly snuggled up next to you, he might as well be your cat himself. if ten starts acting like a clingy feline instead of being in roast mode, you know he’s lovestruck i’m telling ya
needless to say
the mood in the room is hard to ignore
hell there are romance candles everywhere all those hecking rose fumes are to blame
surprise surprise all the members try to sit as close as possibly to you the more the movie progresses
even abandoning the couch and seats to sit on the ground in front of you instead
“you want popcorn?”
“like some more popcorn?”
“here, have my popcorn!“
“more popcorn?”
“hey do you want popcorn?”
from all sides, constantly
the m in super m stands for making sure you have popcorn
you never run out
like when the leading lady is pulling out a cigarette in those old hollywood flicks and at least twenty guys are scurrying to offer a lighter
i’m exaggerating but
nobody even knows what kind of movie they’re watching tonight though
the elephant in the room is trumpeting too loud to understand the dialogue
you’re surrounded by seven big ole hotties who have fallen for you
it was inevitable
it’s more than clear to everyone that they all like you and you couldn’t be any more fluttered yourself
let the hunger games begin
i’m jopping i mean i’m joking
this is not the wwe
it’s pretty clear to the boys that if they fight you’re gonna be so unhappy and your quality time together is ruined
you adore them all, and they’d be regretful about hurting their own bonds
and anyway
if it came down to it and the bad blood was really escalating um...
...ten would destroy all of the competition
there’s no denying
by the simple virtue of his badassery and winning disease
quickly reducing all his opponents to a pile of dust so fine-grained, the great freddie mercury himself would resurrect to sing the soundtrack in the background and pump his fist
imagine that. superm actually being gladiators i mean wasn’t that the entire jopping mv
baekhyun would try to pull the leader authority card and use his hapkido martial arts skill but ten would obliterate him anyway so
even if taemin put on a dark robe and drew a salt circle to summon a million snakes from hell, ten would win the fight to a fault
but that’s too apocalyptic and outside of that thought experiment the boys are actually kinda shy so... let’s scratch that
there are seven days of the week with good reason
you ease the uncertainty and tension by saying you’d truly fail as a tv bachelorette
everyone understands that deciding would be impossible and cheating is shit
why give someone a rose and break 6 hearts when you can hand out a whole damn bouquet
it’s more stylish my friend
and for what reason would ten want to face off against taemin and his army of snakes in the first place. they’re ten’s greatest inspiration
nor does kai have any tighter shirts
he already ran out, he brought his A game from the get-go
on top of that the popcorn is empty there’s no more to offer
so you remain with the idea to just keep your daily routine
xuxi monday, ten tuesday and so on
keeps everything in order
it’s fair
plus it doesn’t mess with their schedules
usually unless a big award show is coming up but that can be re-planned in advance as well
you know... things can develop in their own timing with each member
it’d be awkward to expect everyone to be on the same stage at once
baekhyun is comfortable with all kinds of back hugs while taeyong and taemin are still completely flustered and turn all wobbly at just a greeting wave
you know what i mean
it’s already clear everyone loves you very differently
some members are more straightforward, others take it slow, it’s just a normal thing
that’s when the group chat is born
it’s still very sfw
compared to how explicit it’ll be in the future ahem
and everyone is overcautious with writing something except baekhyun, the eternal extrovert
for now you keep each other updated on how it’s all going with trivial details
earlier you just had individual chats and baekhyun arranged the group meetings since he knows the schedule best
now it’s all in one spot so that works
everyone’s curiosity is quenched at least a little bit
and they see each other anyway and put their heads together
baekhyun will be the most open about how far your skinship slowly develops followed by lucas and kai who oggle each other in their usual tom and jerry manner
which you have an eye on
you tell the members something very important for when they’re envious
or feel the need to one-up or catch up
it’s the sign to get closer to you and that they’re ready for taking another step. that’s literally what jealousy is all about
that advice helps them out a lot actually
kai takes that to heart in particular because he knows he’s prone and feels bad about it
and they also learn from ten who carries a quiet happiness with confidence that doesn’t need comparison, but he can also talk very honestly about how he’s standing with you to the point
ten knows how it’s done
as expected of such a competent man
like he’s kissed your hands very lightly but he doesn’t feel the need to show it off all day
and he also leads by example together with taemin and taeyong how one can give compliments even when not being involved in something
“you’re looking adorable together“ as taemin would often say about you hanging out with kai or baekhyun
a lot of praise culture is developing in the group chat
you like to see it
and now for the other elephant in the room
as for who will ask you to sleep with him first
(and mind you at this point they’re all walking around with condoms in their backpacks and jackets)
believe it or not
after the finishing touches on his latest mixtape (oh yes), and those tracks have you feeling some kind of way oh shit, mark gathers all his courage
yes it’s mark lee
literally he steps into the blaze of bravery of jongin when he first put on a crop top
and gets out a little “can we... some time... you know...” after you’re having some pretzel sticks together and awkwardly sitting around
oh what's gonna happen next huh?
you say you’ve been thinking about it a lot
that he has a great body doesn’t go unseen
and tell him how you imagine it with him
long story short you’ll have your first quickie in the sound booth that night
cutting straight to the chase
him steadily penetrating you from behind, you leaning closely with your back to his chest
just standing and enjoying the rhythm
that dick. is amazing.
oh god, mark lee
long, curved, smooth, a classic
meanwhile your fave rapper is definitely going through it
his arms tell you everything
that’s an embrace for the books
he’s hugging you like his life depends on it
you can just take in how he’s been showering twice today this guy is clean as fuck he smells so good
getting off from shampoo and fabric softener is not what you expected but it definitely makes you clench
you both know he’s not gonna last for more than six minutes and that’s ok
that’s a lot of long-held frustration released into that condom
and a lot of passion put into how he puts his guitar fingers to work on your clit afterwards
jimi ‘lee’ hendrix has arrived
oh yeah mark, you fucking treat, fuck it up
that way you won’t last long either since you guide his finger tips to your favorite spot and the motherfucker completely goes for it
“like this, like, um?”
and he goes off with the wrist
oh shit
it’s all kept so short and simple and you’re on the oldest mustard-colored studio couch that ever existed but mark lee is mark fucking lee nothing can obstruct his quality
like this guy has some serious skills with the angles
that orgasm is gonna get some moans you didn’t know you were capable of out of you
never wasting time, that guy is he
mark definitely fucks like he raps. fast and good
you cool down together looking each other in the eyes, forehead to forehead, for like fifteen minutes, and you give each other little chaste kisses all over your faces and he melts every time
your little rendezvous was definitely so needed
you ask if you can bring some vibes to play around with and a watermelon next time
you don’t have to ask twice
mark is so damn happy
and the timing was right
straightforward and spontaneous. that definitely works well with mark
no complaints, you go home feeling comfortably refreshed. you’ve told him he could tell the others or wait to do it, this is up to his comfort because he is shy
neither happens
after just one glance at him the next day while the group is doing a photoshoot
baekhyun already knows mark slept with you
he just knows
and makes a loud “ohh wow, you did it” noise
ten takes two only glances to understand what’s going on too
mark nods and the whole group is highstrung for the entire day
like a hive of bees oh yes
kai is massively proud of raising mark so well but also really surprised
unlike taemin who calmly advised mark on many things in advance
guess where mark’s fingering skills originate from
he took some secret pointers from the king
taeyong is shook at his rap buddy’s singleminded grit to just spontaneously ask you
while baekhyun...
is keeping it together repeating the anti-jealousy mantra you gave him in his mind
“jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer....“
it makes him realize oh god he really wants to be inside of you badly as well
you ain’t dumb, you see his change of tone from cute to sexy in the group chat even if he might not notice
baekhyun is trying extra hard to make you react to him
he posts so many cute selfies with kissy faces
needless to say taeyong’s time slot gets postponed to next thursday while you visit baekhyun this evening
it works for taeyong because he still needs to think some things through
the news overwhelmed him a little and he is shy about meeting up but that’s not a problem for you
and it’s better to get together with your mochi sooner because you both know there’s a lot of banging to do
like seriously
your mood tells you that candy’s on the menu today
oh yeah. it’s time to be all over your clingy lil’ honey bunny
there’s not much endless wooing involved it goes to the point very fast after you arrive at his home
you just wanna stop pretending and fuck like animals and see his brain melt from it
remember how baekhyun once said he doesn’t fancy nice girls
that’s what he meant by that
mattress earthquake
he wants you fully riled up with arousal and addicted to touching and grabbing him
yeah baekhyun gets off on your desire
that’s not hard to accomplish when he makes big puppy eyes and puts his tongue on your neck
with that gomez addams shit... kissing up your arm and then popping off as soon as he gets there
congrats morticia
here is a man who can handle ya
he’s being so slobbery and moany about it that it knocks the breath out of you
that shit is so good
baekhyun is not just a pro at giving head my friend it’s also giving neck
and unlike mark, may god have mercy on you, baekhyun keeps on going and going and kissing and kissing and he wants to lick up all of you so bad
we know how needy and stamina-heavy this fella is
baekhyun is super m’s most insatiable member by fucking far
he’s like just give it to me and you’re like ok here we go
this guy is burning up oh god
that’s an evening of ten thousand positions, fearless cumplay, and a lot of face-sitting
super m’s most unleashed tongue right here
thank god you worked on your fitness with xuxi otherwise you couldn’t do this
he’s moaning in some harmonic scales or something it’s a whole concert
baekhyun is fully at it with you in every room of his flat with his whole neck and underarms looking mighty veiny
yeah he even carries you around to make it short and simple he’s one impatient bun
he can lift up sehun bridal style so no worries
mochi is smol and thin but he won’t drop you i promise
he’s fueled by horny boyfriend hormones and wants to give you the greatest night of all nights
and hit all the amazing spots
baekhyun aims to make your pussy lips throb and fall completely in love with him
and the bridge of his nose if you get what i’m saying
he’s also versatile in his clothing choices
if you say keep your nerdy glasses on, oh yeah they stay on
just a little challenge to see if you can ride him hard enough to see them fall off
and that dick is not some extra long lasso mark lee calibre
so he can really bend it more and thrust with ease at many angles
talking about mark
he regrets not asking you earlier but you tell baekhyun that this way was much better because you unceremoniously skipped to the fucking instead of messing around
if it wasn’t for mark’s courage to break the ice even with a choppy sentence
you’d still be awkwardly looking each other in the eyes while munching pizza
all hail mark lee nervous legend
this way, baekhyun goes all out with fewer restraint and the burden of being first with making the impression that comes with it
we all know he’s too self-conscious for his own mochi good so that’s a better way to start out
this way baekhyun will have sex with you until he’s passed out on his bed
knocking him out like that might as well become your favorite hobby
even minutes after your tongue still feels like it’s knotted together with his honestly, the muscle memory is kicking in
and this must be the most dick thrusts you’ve ever gotten in one night
baekhyun really wants to be all inside you, make you feel him
if the condom broke at least his baby will be easy to identify from day one
it’ll come out and belt a perfect G#5
he gave it all my god you stopped counting the times you came your pussy is just dripping wet it feels crazy
and his voice has become all raspy i—
that was baekhyun’s hardest vocal run yet i swear
the contraception shelf in the convenience store next to his house is close to empty
but there’s no need to buy more
what you two perverts have been up to is enough for comfortably going through 10 years of celibacy
baekhyun is content and sleeps like a baby
you hold your bun for like two hours afterwards and never want to let him go
you are as wobbly as taeyong after getting a head pat from you
and the most well-kissed girl in this city tonight
both sets of lips
what a smoochy boyfriend
you even get the chance to jerk baekhyun off in his half-sleep after he wakes up and asks you to put your hand in his pants
guess who opens his mouth very wide to lick his own semen off your fingers with some really obscene noises
it’s his royal nastiness byun baekhyun
who sucks your tiddies to drift back into sleep again
with his hands in your pants
god bless this man
the group chat is sending 👀 emojis all the way throughout the night
your boys know love is in the air
they’re loosening up the timing is right again
you send cute smiling emojis
a bunch of “ahs” and “ohs” come through via voicemail
and lucas even writes: “so who’s next? 😳”
damn
you reply boldly: “the one asking that”
the group chat becomes a buzzing beehive again
from which you extract that kai is also very interested while ten, taeyong and taemin prefer waiting a little more
but this time you don’t switch time slots since you’ll meet xuxi on monday already
kai wants to set up something nice and prepare the catering and whatnot (alright you rich man)
so it’s gonna be wednesday as usual with him
so far so good that’s the plan
sunday being taemin day, you get together to read and paint and listen to music
you feel like just doing some sensual kissing with him and taemin is very down
yeah baby he is the kissing king, taemin is hot stuff, he knows exactly what he’s doing, those lips are the pillows at the gates of heaven
losing your mind is a staple when you do that with him
just making out on the couch surrounded by the nicest arrangement of pot plants you’ve ever seen while it rains completely relaxes you and the serotonin is off the charts
he holds you so gently and tastes so good
what is it, rose water or something like that
he even put on his coziest sweater so you’ll love leaning against him
TL;DR taemin is the biggest fucking romantic in the history of SM
that was so seductive you’ll be dreaming about it
applause for lee taemin please
perfect contrasting programme: just hours later
yeah here it goes now
monday starts with xuxi stripping more than he usually does
at the makeshift gym in his room while he’s on the treadmill
with his hair freshly dyed the most himbo shade of blonde ever
and yeah that’s blonde with an e because yukhei is too sexy to be called a blond. what an ugly word to look at
he’s a blondé
so that’s nice
he’s so dtf you just skip the workout
time for lubed condoms.
i don’t have to tell you that you literally jump on him
or that you’ll be dealing with super m’s singlemost biggest equipment
he doesn’t even have to drive it home an inch by himself you’re already riding him
he can’t handle all that gear in the first place
because how do you even develop a technique with such an unrealistic dick
hell how do you even exist like that
so it’s clear who’s taking the lead
all he has to do is work that body but it sort of happens on its own
himbo autopilot
you are going hard and chaotic on this man
xuxi doesn’t even know what hit him
he’s so vocal and excited
you fuck him while he holds you up, get down on several gym benches, have him bend you forward at the bathroom sink...
...and you attend business in ten’s room on a desk and window sill
because it’s the most silent there and doesn’t disturb xiaojun’s beauty sleep
ten has discreetly ushered you there and preoccupies himself in the kitchen with the cats
he knows how the game is played
either floor ‘em all or always watch out for others
MVP
but you are secretly wondering what ten is plotting because he has some serious self-control and observation skills
given how tidy his room is... whatever his plans are you can look forward to it
xuxi is definitely suffering from your heavy duty cock destruction in the meantime while being in heaven at the same time
that dick is worn out and dripping
so much bouncing is even gonna make the biggest boy lose it
milking that orgasm out of him is gonna be so gratifying yum
the deep and defeated moans, my god he really surrenders to the pleasure
wow that was almost as to-the-point as studio sex with mark
no idle talk in nct huh
you clean each other all exhausted and then gobble up three bowls of noodles each
then sleep for two hours in each other’s arms
then do a second round because this guy is really getting you going and yukhei wants to live this monday to the fullest
like this man gives you previously unknown levels of energy
must be the blonde hair. it does sexy things when yukhei is twitching
this time it’s a dick blowing festival
oh yeah
the type where you’re so sloppy with your head bops, he doesn’t even know where to put his hands and needs to think emergency thoughts
oh yeah big dicks make for some nice slurpy noises that sound really plump you know what i mean
he’s gonna realize very soon you do this shit for your own entertainment
and get all kinds of squeaks and faces out of him
only little pauses help him keep up the stamina so he asks you to pull off for a bit every two minutes or so
he has to look elsewhere and distract his mind with thinking about washing the dishes
girl... your tongue has this man sweating major bullets
you’re big on the corruption kink are you
once again
xuxi is gonna be so shaken and pass the fuck out from cumming
and he thought he was a horny guy
his soul must have left his body and that scalp is probably dead
but bleaching was worth it (he looks like a sleeping angel now)
not to mention banging all over the wayv dorm
ten got a preview of what’s expecting him
not that he doesn’t know he reads you well
lucas promises to return the oral favor next monday and finally collapses entirely in the living room wearing only boxers
nothing new for wayv, great sight for you
not a single workout routine has exhausted xuxi this much
he needs 10 hours of sleep to reboot
“she’s so wild 😲😂😍” is gonna be what he’ll summarize it as in the group chat later
first big boy taken down
the second one follows
wednesday is right around the corner
oh yes
kai definitely goes off with the preparation you are not ready for this spectacle
he redecorated his entire kitchen and bathroom to perfection with flowers, lanterns, dim light, petals, expensive fabrics draped from the ceiling, and there’s a great view on night time seoul
you can tell he’s best friends with taemin
i mean they’re the greatest entertainers of their time of course their taste is great
always going the extra mile
the black, sheer shirt with a deep cleavage that kai put on is nothing short of a treat
is that a lace choker he’s wearing
and his hair is pushed back lord have mercy
you get pretty weak in the knees at that
the catering leaves nothing to be desired either. a full 3-course sicily-style italian meal with 100% organic ingredients and beautiful basil and thyme garnishings
to set the mood afterwards jongin does what he does best
don’t tell me you didn’t see this one coming
just a chair for you, some music, and him
is this like a whole damn private concert?
he has prepared an entire setlist to thrill you with selected styles of dance
even a rendition of salsa, swing, and tango argentino
i’m telling you...
if kim jongin moves his body for you like that you’ll be fucking hooked and honored and not believe your eyes
what a feast
prepare for a serious case of dropped jaw
and jongin being an absolute daredevil dancing incrementally close to your chair
he incorporates all these little moments of skinship
where he strokes your hair, your jaw, or takes your hands
while at the same time he’s completely destroying it on the dancefloor
with those scorching hips and how he works it on the carpet right in front of you
you’re about to fucking melt
what a time to be alive
the sheer shirt’s buttons are holding onto dear life as do his pants
kai’s movements are becoming extremely ecstatic
what a fucking lapdance 2.0
men have clearly evolved otherwise this wouldn’t be happening
kai dances like a king on a stage but jongin? is god-like when he dances with just one person as the audience
shiit
and because he’s very nervous
he work particularly hard to ace it
in his mind he’s already underneath you judging by how he’s moving
...you can definitely fancy a luscious private concert each wednesday
and for designated activities in the bathroom
he even made a whole 5-hour playlist of the finest songs
so he can make you grind on top of him
don’t tell me kai isn’t the master of courting
king of effort
i don’t have to tell you that this is gonna be the most sensual night you’ve ever had
kai will get to know your body very, very well
those hips never stop do they
the fact that thursday is baekhyun day right after this?
wow aren’t you exhausted
the orgasms just seamlessly continue huh
everything goes on like that
friday you have a toy-filled, passionate evening at the studio with mark who’s doing the most
let’s say mark just has good ‘vibes’ indeed
this almost gets as messy as your first time with lucas
have fun cleaning up that couch, canada
what a sex marathon
if you don’t have your period
there’s always a lot of action going on
or actually. you do catch a break for the weekend
saturday you bake delicious, pistacio and pecan-crusted sticky buns with taeyong
who also shows you the new fledgelings that have hatched in his apartment
so adorable
sunday you endlessly make out with taemin in the sheets who has of course heard of jongin putting on a show
so he dances for you as well and even does the hands-tied criminal choreo in an especially luscious rendition (aka extra heavy breathing and grinding on the floor, and doing splits that almost rip his pants)
oh yes my love
nothing really happens afterwards you just have dinner completely flustered
if lee taemin dances, sex becomes redundant and doesn’t compare anymore
but really now
the slow burn is unbearable with him for fuck’s sake
taemin knows how to work up the seduction bit by bit
you basically masturbate all evening after returning to your house
god. what to do with this guy
on monday you ravage yukhei’s dick and get all that head
xuxi is a chaotic fella but he keeps his promises
plus you get the best full-body massage of your life
and for the first time pull out your phone to basically livestream yourself riding him
so the whole chat can watch for five minutes
yep. you learned that courage thing from mark lee
the camera work is obviously subpar but the video definitely has maximum effect
kai and baekhyun stream their reaction right alongside your broadcast
“woah woah oh my god oh my god!!”
everyone’s freaking out, everyone stops whatever they’re doing, everyone is glued to their screens, they love your body moving
you’re having a blast
especially when you stream another round an hour later and lucas holds the camera now
his arm is perfect for that by the way
strong and stable and high up in the air
so you can do your thing on that fat dick with a bonus of the sexiest xuxi moans ever
that deep but soft tone... yukhei really got a perfect groaning voice huh
after getting steamy for almost ten minutes, you get some great close-ups of your pussy after having yukhei pull out mid-romp
because that gape is for the gods
don’t kid yourself with a dick like that inside you’ll be opening a little wider
it looks and feels even better with lucas tracing his long fingers inside of it
with the closeup zooming in even more while he’s putting his thumb on your clit
mmh that’s good stuff
six very shaky boys are sitting in front of their phones right now being able to look um very deeply inside of you
baekhyun is basically frozen to a statue on the reaction stream and salivates nonstop it’s just running down his neck at this point
his wettest dreams are right in front of him
stretched out pussy all juicy and swollen? baekhyun’s lifeblood. he’s seeing god
he turns up the brightness of his phone to maximum so he can see every little detail
remember. this guy loves to be inside of you so obsessively he wants to pay rent to live in there
so he’s appreciating an HD view of his favorite place, really deep and really pulsing and really soaked
yukhei has slathered you in lube and really pushed apart your muscles very gently, no abrasion, you relaxed so nicely around him
it’s feeling good as fuck
kai who’s watching right next to baekhyun just stares with big eyes
every injury he ever got while dancing is suddenly healed
he’s a new man his spine has put itself together his legs are reborn
taeyong almost falls off his chair when he tunes in
he’s that bewildered
he just types a big WOW and a wall of blushing emojis
the explicit songs he’s been listening to and whatever he’s been rapping about recently are nothing in comparison to this
finally someone climbed up to taeyong’s level of nastiness
and he thought he’d never find someone on eye level
secretly he loves the nice view but he won’t admit how much
meanwhile he will rewatch this over and over for the whole week at least five times a day
and then there’s taemin
| adorable 😊🤗🎀 6v6
| can you put the camera a bit closer again 👉👈
| and turn on the flash if that’s ok 😳
| ah thank you 💟
i don’t know what taemin has seen or heard or experienced in his life and what made him this way but damn he loves that graphic shit
turning on the flash makes even yukhei’s jaw drop and rub your clit even faster
he’s damn proud he could make your pussy open up to him this way as he should be
cuz he’s really been improving his Big Cock Techniques (BCT)
mark doesn’t write anything but he’s online and streaming so yeah he’s jerking off
with two hands
baekhyun is typing how much he loves the wet sounds and how great the fingering action is
and he’s damn right. telepathy
that’s your favorite pervert right there yeehaw
in the meantime yukhei’s brain is empty he’s just smiling bright and enjoying the moment and the attention and your body
ten is basically next door because this is the fucking wayv dorm
you can hear him choke on his coffee and whisper ‘oh my fucking god, oh shit’ to himself
the phone almost topples into the sheets while lucas is putting all those rubs and circles into your clit but the audio is already telling the boys to watch very closely anyway because here it comes
taeyong is probably falling apart by now given how he’s posting a couple fragmented sentences that you try to decipher on yukhei’s phone
until you get close and take up filming yourself again
so yukhei can make a video with his own phone as well
yep that’s two cameras on you by now not just one
xuxi’s been such a steadfast babe
and he gets to see the fruits of his work. for one, just how much of an imprint he left with his cock inside you
and second how hard he can make you cum now
those big fingers are magic on you
taemin gets all the closeups he ever needed from your camera because you hit the zoom even more
yukhei starts kissing you twice
not as carefully as he often would
it’s the really wet and passionate version this time
he films your lower faces as good as he can
those big fucking lips
they never fail to make you get the hots
they’re really made to do all this are they
his tongue nips into you with extra saliva on board
you suck it into your own mouth and mix it with yours, and gather some more
and slip your tongue above his in return
yukhei makes sure you can hear him swallowing all that warm runny spit and moans into your mouth
guess who just blew one big juicy load into the condom
and he’s not even inside of you
jesus christ yukhei
looks like french kissing is his orgasm button
you start sucking on his tongue when it slides back between your lips and you make them really tight and puckering
the noise is so delicious
yukhei shoots the rest of his semen into the condom
you go even harder on him, the kiss gets really deep
kai and baekhyun are literally jumping up and down on their beds by now
taemin and mark are sending star-eyed emojis
ten is definitely beating the meat next door
yukhei’s hand is massaging incessantly between your legs
he makes you feel. so. good.
when he retreats from the kiss you’re ready
you can hardly keep the phone stable in your palm
yukhei also points his camera back at your pussy again
and makes sure to catch every contraction
you know an orgasm is good when you’re going all “oh... ohh...”
even taeyong goes online to stream his reaction because you cum so beautifully
he’s actually crying and can’t close his mouth he can’t believe what he’s seeing
your pussy lips are so sloppy and stretched apart and twitching and you make sure the camera catches every bit
it takes almost half a minute until your muscles calm
you tell yukhei to clean it up with those plump lips of his
baekhyun and taemin are violently agreeing with thousands of “YESS EAT UP!!!” and “yes!! 😊♥︎🌹” text bubbles in the chat
your guys are so cute do you realize that
in order to have both hands free, lucas ends his video, puts his phone aside, and is already licking you up like a whole bowl of whipped cream
you keep on streaming on your own phone and brush the hair out of his face
the best part is catching yukhei’s tongue winding between your lips and then spoiling your pussy with big kisses very very slowly as not to overstimulate you
he’s such a fast learner he’s doing it really well
once you’re satisfied and cool off, you stroke the back of his neck and his favorite boyfriend duties are officially on pause
so he can go to pull off the condom and clean himself up, and get ready for bed after a quick mini snack
while you blow kisses into the camera, flirt with all your babes while they flirt back and even bow to you
and film your pussy all swollen and licked up but slowly closing a little bit again, ever so slightly
ten sends two little black hearts and a little “that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen thank you 😽”
you make sure taemin gets an extra close view of your clit and taeyong is making high-pitched squealing noises in his reaction video stream
mark goes like “yea that’s the spot!”
kai has joined baekhyun with the mouth and saliva action, they’re both licking their lips all over the place and make lewd lusty faces
they’re literally sucking and eyefucking your pussy through the camera bitch they want it so goddamn bad
oh to have their mouths on you right now to come down from your high and chill
you tell everyone how much you miss them and how badly you want them to be here
and how you want to feel all of them all over, on your skin and inside you
the chat is full of yearning and horny crying emojis now
yukhei helps you clean up the rest while you text how it felt with mark and baekhyun because they wanna know more
you talk about how yukhei’s girth is always rubbing that one spot inside and his breathing changes when it does
and you say you really loved their reactions
the members promise to be careful and discrete when they re-watch the stream and ten also says that if you don’t want it to stay in the chat some day you should never hesitate to delete it
you say no problem boys you should know me inside out, just remember to use head-phones when yukhei starts slurping at the 01:27 min mark
taeyong and mark are losing it at your puns
then you have a glass of water taller than yukhei’s dick and basically dance to the bathroom
lucas talks to the boys with his big ole smile in his pyjamas while you’re busy
oh god he is so shy
but very very blissed out. it really takes only two things to make this man happy. big plates, twitchy pussy.
a truly simple man. you like that
kai is definitely evolving from his teasing yukhei agenda in the meantime
he is sending thumbs up emojis instead of raised eyebrow ones
you lay down in xuxi’s big embrace and say goodnight to your boys
yukhei buries his nose in your hair, and kisses you on the forehead so innocently, taeyong melts in his little video square on screen
taemin is a big fan as well
he’s living true to his “explicit shit and romance” life motto isn’t he
you ask if everyone was enjoying themselves
big positive reactions all over the chat
you coo how you adore them all so much and want more of things like this where everyone is involved
eight people are going to bed very happy today
yukhei waves and baekhyun goes offline as well, as does taeyong who’s beaming
end stream
it was a masterpiece
that mark needs to recover from the very most, his entire bed is full of used tissues
and basically
over the next few hours the chat is losing their minds over and over again
everyone can’t stop gushing and telling you what their favorite part was
kai says how turned on you were was making him hard all night
ten enjoyed the wild kissing part and how wet everything was
naughty boy taemin keeps on talking about how — i quote — your insides are the best ever!! while sending flower emojis
your stream has unleashed a gigaton of sexual energy
and that basically goes on and on
until tuesday arrives
oof
today’s the day
you know that ten is up to something
except the little hearts and kiss comment
he hasn’t written much in the chat
oh shit oh shit what is he planning
he truly is a pisces
you know that some epic stuff is about to go down since the cats are with yangyang
and — what
there’s a large canvas in his room with a piece of cloth to cover it
lord have mercy
he’s bringing the big guns
ten will even hold a little speech on how he got inspiration two weeks ago
only to proceed to unveil the art very shyly
it’s an elaborate pencil drawing standing about as tall as him
immaculately sketched in a realistic way
have a guess what he’s been drawing
exactly right it’s an erotic depiction of you
laying on your back, thighs spread, head thrown back
and to make it mysterious you see more of the legs rather than the crotch area
so whatever or who is giving you pleasure is entirely up to you to imagine to your liking
it’s more about how the person he drew feels lust rather than the onlooker. he drew this for your own enjoyment
he did that very cleverly and classily
this canvas will be your utmost treasure and get such an intimate spot in your home
it doesn’t take very long until you’re mounting him and get those hips moving in a circle
ten is just full of surprises
you ask if you can photograph the drawing and upload it to the chat
ten is like ohhh!
but why not, now that he thinks about it. he secretly likes praise and visibility for his drawings so much
the post is definitely a success
lots of exclamation marks and reaction memes for three hours straight
but who would’ve thought otherwise
ten is just massively talented, always on point
and hits the right nerve with his line of work
as your pussy can attest
yukhei is gonna tease in the chat that he heard you in the dorm and that it sounded mega hot wink wink wink
ten writes:
| my tongue hurts
| let’s do it again next week
| i feel inspired to draw more as well
the chat explodes with hype for another two hours
multiple members come up with their own artistic takes on you
on wednesday kai presents a feral dance he choreographed for the whole morning. showing a representation of what you are to him and what he feels for you
very beautiful
on thursday baekhyun gifts you a deliberately humorous doodle titled mochi mama in the style of i dunno, probably picasso on crack
you have not seen anything like it
it’s gonna make you laugh in sad hours for many days to come
talk about come
baekhyun will have his hands busy in and on you all night
he wants to feel mama mochi and please you and make you smile
try not to climax challenge: failed several times
on friday mark blasts a song he wrote about you as soon as you put your hand bag down in the studio
100% of the lyrics are about how sexy and charming and special you are to him and how infatuated he is and how much he thinks about you all the time and how much you knock him off his feet, and how he has the biggest hots for you, jesus christ
that mark lee canada flow wants to make you fucking nut right then and there
the fandom just got his lit mixtape and he’s already working on another one i guess he sure has enough nsfw inspiration for it
all the more reasons to cum hard on his dick tonight
and make sweet love to that sexy body because mark lee isn’t the only one with the hots
then comes saturday
taeyong day
the tension is rising
you’re at his place
the sweet boo comes to put some chirping fledgelings into a towel on your lap as usual
there’s a big crispy lasagna baking in the oven, dripping with cheese and sauce with the most full-bodied herbal mix ever
damn tasty
gordon ramsay would rate this particularly well on twitter
honestly man
we all know gordon ramsey would like taeyong’s dishes
the evening passes as it always does
so he didn’t jump on the bandwagon that’s interesting
it’s almost as if the stream didn’t happen or anything
just as you expected
taeyong doing his own thing and being just very consistent makes him so sexy and desirable to you it’s hard to explain
you just like his style of going about things you know
he’s very receptive to your impulses
you figure it’s up to you to make some steps
so when he opens the fridge to pull out a self-made, perfectly swirly vanilla-chocolate vortex pudding that’s just at the right temperature, you can’t help but hit on him like the world is ending
but as you learned from taeyong’s example: your way
you ask him to open his mouth and maneuver spoon after spoon of pudding into it for him to deliciously savor it
giving him compliments on always making your day along with that
that bowl is empty very fast my loves
and taeyong very happy
oh yeah he was enjoying that
with his eyes closed
oh fuck
the sexual tension could rip the air in half like a mark verse
you decide to sit down on his lap all nonchalant and finish your own pudding... more than suggestively
taeyong is basically holding his breath at this point he’s a puddle
you tell him he can put his hands on your waist if he wants to
no answer needed his fingers are already on their way
you can hear how his heart is approaching a techno music BPM
at this point all you can do anymore is lean in to whisper if he likes to go to the bedroom with you
he can keep the apron on
taeyong tastes deliciously of pudding aye
you roll around in the sheets kissing so heavily
this is pure indulging you just feel how you’re sleeping with a chef
who happens to have the veiniest dick of all time
you’re definitely filled up well
sliding up and down on him deliciously for twenty minutes
really slowly and hugging each other tightly
and saying romantic things
that’s the good life
by the end of the evening the group chat gets a picture of taeyong’s world class lasagna
and a ‘very random’ shaky picture of your hand in his hair
which baekhyun instantly comments as:
“now tyong knows how great you taste as well 🤓😁🤗“
yukhei agrees wholeheartedly and ten starts making baby don’t stop puns
kai is totally in love with the quality food
baekhyun voices his interest in making more pictures of that kind with you. you know, hand in the hair, no big deal
kai says hurry up with it hyung, all the hair dye makes you balder every minute
baekhyun reprises his doodling and now draws a couple
it’s mama mochi with byun baldhyun
“this will be the next selca“
glorious
you’re having a damn good time
but later you feel something is going on
the whole week passes and taeyong seems to be brooding
next saturday he has a hard time expressing himself when he comes to your home
you ask if he’s not comfortable having more sex or if he struggles with the relationship setup
taeyong says it’s not that but can’t explain any further
you go on a whim and ask if it’s a confession he has on his mind
bingo
“taeyong... if you think i’ll judge you for something. remember we’re only doing this since a couple weeks. it’s hard to know how the person really reacts if you don’t know each other inside out“
he is still hesitant
you ask him if it’s something taboo
“yeah...”
you thought so. taeyong is the least basic person you know along with taemin
guess why these two are saved for last my dear readers
you tell him that how he’s in his own lane is what you appreciate him for in the first place, it’s why you’re here with him, you love your duckling chef so much
if he wants a different kind of sex that’s perfectly him
he looks relieved and understood hearing that
and confesses that yeah... he wants to go a little kinkier with you
now you know why taeyong was acting with so much restraint
and put all of his feelings and sensuality into food pretty much
in fact the kinky sex has already started whether you noticed or not
indirectly. as in, the dynamic
truth is he wants to be a service sub
oh yeah lemme introduce you to some new things
service subs like to really cater to their dominants and fulfill their every wish not just in bed, but around the house as well
and there’s even more to it as you will soon discover talking to him about it
an apron is only the start
in case you have been living under a rock
taeyong’s duality is nuts
he’s a completely shy mega pervert
it’s not a secret that this guy wants hardcore bdsm torture sex
you letting all that aggression loose on him for fucking sport
and being cold to him
with a bit of soft domme action as the perfect balance
yep
he wants you to take him out and take care of him at the same time
he’s perfectly aware he’s among the freakier and more deprived members
even ten is just casually freaky and just open for a lot of things. taeyong is deliberate
and pretty deep in the femdom community as far as his browser history is concerned
we all know assertive partners are his thing
but he’s afraid he’ll get you into something that’s a lot of responsibility
you say mister i’m familiar with your interests
my dear you never made them hard to guess
you tell him it’s no problem for you to give it to him raw
you’ll be doing disgusting things to him that sexy face will straight up drown
did you know?
our dear boy taeyong loves it when you spit in his mouth and do virgin roleplay
if he asks you to break him don’t be surprised
he wants to release control completely
he goes by all the rules
and i guarantee. when he comes along your dominatrix mood is gonna skyrocket he just brings that shit out in people
his mere naked body is just... how not to go nuts on him how he wants it
long story short tied up taeyong head to toe ends up immortalized as a vertical photograph
the group chat is overwhelming your notifs with wide-eyed emojis and all caps
amping up the game a little more each day are we
without even trying. hell, this just happened
where this is going is gonna be fun
sunday goes down with you grinding yourself all over taemin but you’re both clothed
you grab the back of his neck to lean in for kisses over and over and over
yes kisses are key
if not the favorite thing he does
let this sink in. if taemin overwhelms a little kitty with a hundred thousand smooches, just how kissy is this guy gonna be
and have fun teasing his erection through his pants
lee taemin a squirmy mess? hell yeah
in classic fashion he will spend the most time of the evening on his knees getting slapped around in several blindfolds, harnesses, and wrist ties
his fantasy finally came true
i repeat what taemin has been dreaming of is reality
thank god for taeyong having you second guess his private tastes. otherwise you would not be on your dom grind now
taemin even goes as far as ordering lingerie for your encounters — to wear himself because he’s taemin
satin and silk blouses he already has in his wardrobe so there’s no shortage
i don’t have to tell you that you can spend hours grinding on his cock in a room full of candles while taemin is in head-to-toe bondage
that’s his idea of a good time and hell you are really treated to perfect eye candy, taemin’s hotness will bring your pleasure to a new level
the group chat will definitely love your photography taken from your sessions
taemin is just an utter no-compromise kinda man to make kinky love with. everything is planned he’s never settling for less than a perfect evening
where both of you really experience the ultimate satisfaction from treating your bodies to the best of clothes and toys and scenarios
give me an amen for taemin being your sunday guy because this legend of a man is your personal church
and his discography is the bible
and cum play is the baptizing my friend
so yeah huh
every day you can look forward to. monday to sunday
and not a day goes by without someone in the chat reminiscing the steamy video you did with lucas
you end up repeating what you wished that day
for everyone to be with you
so you could feel all of them
and you say maybe it’s time to arrange something
you’ve gotten to know each of them personally and intimately by now
and integrated them into your personal life
hell when you wake up the first thing you see is ten’s drawing across your bed
or baekhyun’s funny mama mochi art on your phone background
and you start your day literally selecting from a pile of taeyong’s freshly washed and ironed clothing stacks in your wardrobe
sitting at your breakfast table with a bouquet of flowers that kai and jongin brought you
eating food you bought together with lucas
listening to music that mark made especially for you
they’re all in your life together so it’s the right time to make some heated love together
the chat is all down you don’t even have to ask any further
baekhyun volunteers to go about his leader duty to organize the best possible venue and best possible date
cause with superm things do go 100
he asks what kind of atmosphere you have in mind
you say hard and nasty and kinky
which will definitely make the chat interested
and baekhyun was about to rent a huge modern art penthouse in gangnam
you say no need to go that expensive. you just need a large bed, no paparazzi, and an area where you can be loud. sculptures you could care less about
you have yukhei on your team, so that’s a living sculpture already
it needs a safe haven essentially, with a dark and lusty atmosphere would be so nice
ten steps in saying he has the exact spot you’re looking for
he has a friend who runs a declining night club in the suburbs, with some pretty attractive and grungy backrooms with plenty of space to fuck
yeah a club is exactly what you’re looking for that’s a good idea
it’s closed on monday so baekhyun and ten arrange a rental just then
of course way in the evening
with the guarantee of nobody else around
baekhyun knows how this rigged game rolls he says they need the club to perform a dance practice, overnight stay, and shooting a music video
which is only a half-lie
not “hey we are super m planning an orgy wanna invite dispatch and tell lee soo man”
regardless ten’s friend is pretty chill and indifferent anyways
and baekhyun’s money is doing the talk
you’ll be guaranteed to be left by yourself
monday evening it is.
you already have a whole bunch of fantasies to let loose on your boys
and put it all in the chat
yo it’s called brainstorming and it sure has brain in it
you discuss
and it goes down next week
you encouraged the members to wear what they feel best in, no dress code, no comparison thinking. you want to meet them like you got to know them, each in their favorite expression
taeyong dons a mass onslaught of fetish gear underneath a trench coat, including a fancy collar, lots of hairspray
and latex gloves. shit he’s a freak
baekhyun puts on the coziest clothes he finds and his smol sneakers but they are secretly expensive, his hair is curly and big, he put on a nice scent
kai can’t help but go black suit and lace underneath, you know him
bleach blonde yukhei gets out the tight white tee and smug jeans
creative genius ten goes all out designing his own fashion (!) with paint, he puts on sexy af glasses and goes for his signature ‘cleavage down to the belly’ look underneath a bomber jacket
mark goes for a casual suit but make it swag, with a sleeveless top underneath, yeah those mark arms go crazy
taemin — picks his most dazzling silver outfit that looks like a rendition of mermaid scales, pointed shoes, princely hair, famous i’m so fabulous
and it’s already starting out sexy in the car before you even arrive
because this is all gonna be glorious from the first second to the last
baekhyun and kai will do the driving
you have not one but two classy and sexy chauffeurs you hear me
yeah in their shiny black german cars with those sleek comfortable seats
baekhyun, taeyong, ten and lucas are a team
and then you get kai, mark, and taemin, including your group luggage because such a trip needs a lot of things to pack trust me
you’re with team kai on the way to the club and with team baekhyun the way back
it’s already lit and steamy on your way there
nothing better than getting in the mood held by the greek god arms of none other than lee taemin with mark lee assisting
you’re entirely wrapped up in kissing taemin so passionately, his tongue melts into your mouth like the finest chocolate
thinking about how you were making out last week gets you going even more
as does feeling up his bulge, ugh taemin is so sensual
mark sitting on your other side being eager to attend to your thighs, your waist, your back, your hands, your hair, your stomach
yep
yukhei has been telling him about the wonders of a whole-body massage since you like it so much
mark gets his hands all over you to provide a sexy caress and wow he’s doing it well, giving everything the perfect kind of attention, always asking if you want more of this or more of that
mark loves everything about you and he knows how to make your anticipation become even more intense by dedicating time to all areas generously
you feel like he’s worshipping you head to toe
it’s the way to get turned on
mark has great soft hands and knows your best spots by now
that’s exactly why it was a good idea to sleep with the members individually at first
you could figure it all out in detail and each member could show their style of doing things, and you could teach them
mark has become an expert in skinship
while he’s kissing into your neck whispering revering things to you nobody else would understand
they’re intimate, spicy details from your studio lessons
with a romantic twist even because mark is giving you his entire arsenal, the entire palette
“i’ve been thinking about you so often...”
with jongin driving carefully and taking the lesser frequented roads
kai is really keeping it together
the maknae backseat party is faithfully photographed by mark who sends it to the other team after taemin and you select the best shots, giggling
your favorite is a bird’s view of your cleavage with taemin kissing right between your breasts, slightly below the sternum
his hair is softly splayed over the area
taeyong and ten reply with heart eyes in the chat
on you go kissing and touching
taemin is so gentle with you and easily accepts your wild licks and bites, leans his head back so you have perfect access to his neck
by the time you arrive at the club’s back entrance, he’s marked up and his lips are mighty used
ruined neck, ruined mouth
taemin’s favorite two accessories to walk into a club with
including a hard-on
with mark and kai strutting right after, chewing mints
...both getting hard themselves because mark loves your body and jongin has very good ears when it comes to picking up things that happen in the back of his car
and this bitch got a raging libido, so
the best part is everything is prepared
the other team already parked their car there earlier
ten had the keys to every needed lock, showed everyone around, and then baekhyun went into organization overdrive
this is the first time he didn’t clown around to distract from work since debut
if baekhyun ever means serious business... wow
your best boy taeyong has located the perfect backroom that’s shaded inside and neon-lit from the outside
the window’s aren’t particularly low-sitting so that’s a privacy plus
there’s a huge white extra oversized bed with some more great furniture and a sofa landscape
he desinfected everything to a T
and pulled out every utensil you might need from a large black bag
he walked in like he just commited a bank robbery but in reality there’s cutesy pink rope in the bag
oh well
classic taeyong
yukhei sorted and handed out the condoms plus water bottles for everyone
he’s the expert for the basics don’t come at him he’s doing a great job
after you reminding everyone of the safeword
taemin sits down with you on the bed and you keep kissing
keeping up the flow right there
//
you beckon your lil’ adorable mochi who’s been dying for skinship
baekhyun is so turned on he wastes no time joining
still fully clothed while the other members are about to undress
you actually like baekhyun huddling up against you in his oversized hoodie it’s cute
so hey, change in plans
everyone ditches the protocol and climbs on the bed only without their shoes
lot of ties and belts to pull them closer to you
you bring all of them together on the bed now
the feeling of having everyone around you is so electrifying, you have to distance from taemin’s seductive lips not to get some kind of adrenaline overdose
jesus this guy is trying to soak your pants like baekhyun forgot to turn off the shower
you get to enjoy five minutes of relaxed massaging from all sides to cool everything down a little
baekhyun and yukhei alternate with kissing you
yum
big plush lips plus a horny tongue
that’s a good combination
kai is definitely setting the pace of how to massage you, and how to move the body while doing so, and what expressions to make
instead of sitting there awkwardly staring into space
remember? master of courting — that’s kim jongin
even baekhyun follows his example a bit
you’re entering cloud 9 from that whole-body massage
you can tell they’re all dancers. there’s rhythm involved
having the seven of them attend to you at the same time just hits different
that are 14 hands
70 fingers
all in sync with kai’s physical ideas, carefully yet purposefully kneading and stroking
kai also helps everyone find a good area and makes sure everyone stays away from any precarious or sexy zones
because you’d probably get off from that in the matter of a blink
to be honest you’re already feeling heated you can’t help it
but that’s a good sign you’re definitely feeling this
and there’s not a single limp dick in this room at this point already
baekhyun being the best people reader all over again manages a seamless transition to some water drinking
so everyone is ready to go
you wish you could do everything at once but decide to get a load of some slow body rolls against you because hell yeah
courting expert kai is sure to oblige, dance god taemin joins right in, and ten completes the holy trinity and hell does he go off
photographer mark on duty again. this moment has to be captured
baekhyun does his mood management magic and encourages ten and taemin to let out their little sounds more
kai he doesn’t have to tell
nor you because you’re already moaning
shit these guys are just too good
these bodies are machines
again bless your xuxi workout sessions
you wouldn’t keep up otherwise
you curse them because your pussy feels creamy way too early
switching to grinding on their bulges is not a better idea because it’s making you even hornier but anyway it’s your favorite activity
yukhei takes time and some effort to get fully hard so that’s a grateful job now
because you can gather yourself
you resort to using your cleavage to stop turning yourself on completely
and then your hands to palm his pants because that’s even more inconspicuous
group sex with superm? hardest early orgasm avoidance challenge EVER
is there some kind of legally accessible viagra for women
there’s no way you could turn yourself off help
you either get the first orgasm out of the way or keep it together to have some suspense in here and see the boys work hard
the decision is clear
time to bring out the toys that taeyong assembled on a table
baekhyun, taemin taeyong and ten are in the down to get tied up in various ways
lucas and kai get blindfolded and get a sexy task from you
slowly humping the mattress just for your viewing pleasure
topless for that matter
no need to ask twice there they go
photographer mark stays free and flexible. it’s always good to have someone outside bondage just in case with such a big group
anyway so you will be busy for sure
the rest of the boys strip down to only their briefs and get a good dose of spanking
ten is definitely moaning the loudest there
taeyong ends up with tied wrists in a prayer position and has his fun getting slapped around by you
until he’s breathless and smiling to himself with his tongue hanging out
someone got his daily meal of smacking
taemin highly approves
nobody’s surprised
baekhyun gets a quick and simple upper body rope harness that’s very easy to grip him by
and just to tease him you add some nipple pinches
result: loud baekhyun noises
cute as hell
so that’s how he’s been training himself to reach all those high notes
interesting
taemin, completely naked, has his hands and ankles tied, looking so beautiful all helpless and his cock itching for stimulation
and because taemin’s strange ‘artistic’ kidnapping fantasies that he never stops talking about cannot be ignored he gets a mouth gag for good measure
you know you just roll with their ideas
he’s a simple man that’s all he needs
you decide to put a bigger bondage piece on ten who ends up in a hogtie aka his new favorite place to be in
if there’s one guy who’s flexible like that it’s him
let’s see for how long he can take it
ten likes a challenge
you tell mark exactly what kind of pictures you want of your tied darlings and he’s well-engaged with that task
baekhyun is clinging to you a lot in the meantime
he gets kisses on the mouth
and your open ear
because you can tell there’s something on his mind
or rather
his ass is telling him something after you activated it with spanks huh
what does baekhyun want?
baekhyun wants the strap
and the strap he shall get
his time has come
this time the safeword won’t do so tapping yukhei’s thigh is the deal
taeyong’s kinky tool collection has a nice and thick equipment to offer, jet black black straps, jet black dildo, like it’s some kind of secret agent gear
it takes a lot of lube to get it into baekhyun’s tight and tiny ass but what’s new
he’s not the gaping expert
and way too busy laughing at the members’ reaction faces so his damn asshole is contracting god dammit
what a brat
next time he gets a toy for prep
only when you grab him by the harness and get into a rhythm, baekhyun throws it back
good boy
kai and xuxi are allowed to take off their blindfolds now because you have a task for them
taeyong’s toy collection features one extra long double-ended dildo, transparent and neither too slim nor too wide
if baekhyun doesn’t have that thing inside his throat i don’t know who
this shit is made for him
and you can tell he’s salivating for that
you tell yukhei to use those big hands to keep baekhyun’s head steady
and oh wonder, his long fingers enclose it perfectly
kai gets to go hard on baekhyun and fulfill his lifetime fantasy that he has had for over a decade now and jerks off to every night:
baekhyun not talking
so while baekhyun’s ass is getting properly stuffed
so is his mouth
kai has no qualms squeezing the toy into baekhyun’s throat a little more roughly
those are some pretty intense choking noises
mark steadily hits the snapshot button
some people go to pound town
baekhyun goes to silicon valley
kai is not afraid to push that thing as far as it can physically go
you’re pleased with how he’s doing it
and with baekhyun’s blowjob abilities anyway
is there a better throat in this industry? probably not
he’s pretty surprised himself with how much he can take it
that poor ass is getting more than it can handle in the meantime, baekhyun is throbbing and whining
little did you know his prostate is so sensitive and makes his dick leak
such a shame you fully exploit that
you tell yukhei to have baekhyun move his head on his own to get into the rhythm
and get taeyong over to suck on the other end of the toy because oh yeah
let me just say these two are amazing
god bless sm entertainment
not for any executive decisions
but for their uncanny ability to attract and assemble all the subs
lee taeyong giving head like the rent is due is a sight you need in your life
like everything, he does it roughly and properly
baekhyun is barely even sucking anymore just straight up gagging and seeing stars
because uh-oh here comes a big fat prostate orgasm
mark is clever enough to hit record on his phone
and capture a shaking baekhyun travelling through a whole bunch of universes, at least in his mind
because that’s how strong his climax is
all he can say is thank you mama mochi and recover from this on his back
kai is satisfied with the result as well because baekhyun managed to not say anything for fifteen minutes
kai never had this much silence in his life
taeyong is still not done sucking the toy off and you let him
never step between a man and his favorite dildo
lucas takes up the task of untying ten who wants to share the other end that’s free now
and mark hands over the camera to kai who films just that
which also means mark is in the mood for you
about time to get some dick
and have taemin watch right next to you
being able to delight in mark’s wonderful technique
doggystyle
which ends up in kai joining
which causes yukhei to join
and baekhyun to film
the three are literally queueing while waiting for their turn
you tell them when to pull out and let the other member have you
until mark is riddled with so much suspension, the fifth thrust on his turn ends up in an unexpected hard climax
“oh my god oh my god!“
obviously kai will let loose now and cum as well, accompanied by really breathy groans
yukhei takes his time to make you moan which gives both taeyong and taemin a good show and an untouched orgasm
eventually you get to hear lucas growling his soul out
and kai bickering to pull out already
because it’s time for buffet
after getting rid of his condom, mark has been untying the very resilient ten who’s been in prawn bondage for like half an hour and five minutes now
respect
he and baekhyun team up to eat you out
yeah prepare for a dream team
while mark and kai chill on the other side of the bed
lucas on the other hand still doesn’t have enough and ends up licking your legs with his cock firmly palmed in those big hands
baekhyun and ten are doing the most meanwhile, lapping you up all sloppy
the job of the cameraman goes to a wild taemin who’s undone his safety hook
he can’t stand this shit anymore he has to join the action instead of lying around in ropes
jeez the guy has the fun of his life playing with filters
silently giggling to himself
until kai finds out that taemin has been putting cat ears on ten and cowboy hats on lucas
kai confiscates the phone from naughty taem and decides to take up that task himself
so taemin can eat you out himself now
alright there are three heads bumping each other between your legs now
and yukhei close-by, currently nibbling at your outer thighs
can you imagine how crowded and crammed that is
you tell mark to get taeyong out of his ties as well
if you’re gonna cum he has to join the party as well
and he will not hesitate my friend
taeyong’s kinky tongue (which can make all kinds of completely unprecedented moves and slurping noises) riles up the other three to put all their effort into this
you order baekhyun and ten to line you left and right of your hips, fingering you from there
and let both taeyong and taemin get you to the point with their tongues at the same time
it’s a busy day innit
the reason is that baekhyun and ten didn’t come but you plan to change that with some dual handjob
baekhyun lets out some pretty hoarse panting noises
(yeah jongin destroyed him with that toy in his mouth for real)
once your hands grip onto their erections, almost automatically baekhyun’s fingers start going crazy on your clit and ten goes mad with his thumb right next to it
yeah he’s kept his rings on this is gonna be a sexy sight
mark and kai retire from their pillows to join at your request
mark kissing you, jongin sucking on your breasts
from this point on things are pretty much just a daze
two tongues two hands? oh shit
four people are trying to make you cum what did you expect
and three other people are licking you all over
yukhei doesn’t even care at this point he’s just straight up kissing your feet
ten is silently groaning it out, he’s pouring his seed into the condom with little twitches in the hip and shoulders
taeyong’s tongue is gonna finish you off, taemin’s lips will make you feel so good, your legs will be a shaking mess in yukhei’s hands
how to even describe this
it’s an explosion of heat and contractions
you’re going fucking crazy from all that head and tongue action god damn
mark definitely has to swallow a lot of your moans all over the place
and taeyong
also swallows
what a god-loving man
your pussy is leaking enough to feed baekhyun as well
who still strokes himself off while he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, oh boy he really developed a lot of stamina
you have your fun telling him to stop jerking himself off
so his orgasm ends up being ruined
those always mess him up
always a nice sight to have him shaking and whining and gasping
you have to roll over at some point before getting overstimulated
phew that takes quite a couple of deliberate breaths
now you have seven hot guys with sopping wet mouths on your hands, looking at you exhausted and infatuated
that’s super m for you
yukhei, man for the basics he is, hands out towels
you really gotta say he’s kept a clear head in all of this except maybe the sudden foot fetish reveal
of course taeyong towels himself down the most he’s basically covered himself with anything he could get his hands on
that face is dripping like his saturday evening lasagnas
you help clean mark who kinda lost his mind and heart while kissing you, he needs your care a little more now
baekhyun soon snaps back into organization mode and has the brilliant idea to unpack xuxi’s and jongin’s luggage
to have everyone wearing their gigantic hoodies and sweaters
it’s warm in the room anyway but this feels so much cozier
after going to the bathroom
a ball of cuddly guys is snuggled up all aroud you faster than you can think
mark and taeyong are already sleeping they really knocked themselves out
champs
kai finds the completely forgotten phone somewhere in the sheets and turns off what seems to be a 50 minutes video
that’s gonna be fun to watch some time
baekhyun nuzzles himself to sleep against your sweater, right between your breasts
“mochi mama thank...” are his last words before he drifts off to pineapple pizza land or whatever dreamscape is in his head
probably something much dirtier but anyway
lucas and kai steal kisses from you and go off to sort out the room
jesus christ they still have the energy
taeyong’s nasty lil’ toy collection gets cleaned and reassembled, the ropes get coiled up, the towels wander into a washing machine in the other room
whose steady bumping lulls the rest of you to sleep
while taemin, epitome of taste he is, plays his best of hits on low volume with his phone
dozing off between seven guys while “heaven” is playing?
best thing ever
the rest is history. you’re surrounded by sleepy cuddly sweater men
you actually sleep for a couple hours
dawntime you wake up cozied and sandwiched between yukhei’s tiddies and jongin’s back
which is the most protected, snug place on earth
even a nuclear superweapon couldn’t explode past that spot
they’re fast asleep
giant baby and teddy bear
safeguarding you in unison
ain’t they adorable
baekhyun is awake silently doing pilates, smiling cutely at you when he sees you’re awake, and he gets a big load of kisses i’m telling you
miraculously everything is tidy and smells fresh, and there’s a light soup in the air...
... lee taeyong got up at 6:30.
he was a whirlwind
the group gets to enjoy a 3-course classic korean breakfast
because taeyong found the club kitchen
what kind of godly entity is this man
how did he do all of this
the club is the cleanest it’s ever been
taking care of 24 people is probably so difficult, this is actually easy to him
you depart in a good mood because damn that soup was restaurant quality and baekhyun had the idea to give you morning head to which everyone joined in
good thing the club has showers
baekhyun is still horny as hell and you want that D(elight) any time of the day
so you fuck for a bunch of minutes in his car after dropping off the team and they giving you playful winks
you park the car behind xiumin’s house because that’s the most calm place to be
people are sleeping on xiumnin so hard, no paparazzi are around, ever
baekhyun settles there with you smiling
he didn’t sing “get you alone” with no reason
baekhyun needs that one-on-one time with you to ground himself and love you all over again big time
plus you are dying to cum bouncing on him on the driver’s seat
while he is desperately gripping the steering wheel to have something solid to hold onto
yeah baekhyun is always ready to lose it for ya
it’s literally such a good spot to fuck
he’s strapped in all underneath you and you can see him squirm and get heart eyes from up close
you also love how your thighs meet the fabric of his pants
baekhyun’s tiny lap is already worth a huge nut you love grinding on him
those shapely thighs
with his cock peaking out from underneath his sweater
what his morning head tongue can do, his dick can do twice with ease so time for round two today
glad you have your bag with some utensils
you’re generous with lube on the condom
in fact you love spilling it over his pants a little
it looks like you’ve been squirting on him that’s why
baekhyun is down for your pervy imaginations
and gets even harder
not bad lil’ guy
time to make him moan with the grip of your walls
mochi breathes pretty hard because damn... more dick destruction
you love burying your hands in his sweater at the shoulders and just fucking ride
his hair gets messy, his bedroom gaze is so intense
his ass still hurts from yesterday but it seems to turn him own judging by the high-pitched groans and his begs for you to bounce on him harder
no problem his dick is just made to be ridden
if this wasn’t a high-tech car from the future with carbon and whatnot anybody could hear baekhyun’s um ‘vocals’ from the outside
this is so much fun oh my god
baekhyun releases with his eyes shut and teeth pressed together, his nose is all scrunched up
jesus this one got to him
he drives you to his home with his fingers shaking a little on the steering wheel
literally tapping like they do in his microphone on stage
yep this shook him up
and insatiable byun is now satisfied byun
nothing better than knowing you ruined your cupcake boyfriend in the best of ways
back at his apartment and after some extra carbo hydrate heavy food, as a pre-nap treat you grind on his thighs and his ass because why not
and gyrate him to sleep with his arms and legs stretched in all directions
both of you are still in disbelief that all of this happened
legend has it you’re dreaming of more group sex ideas that night
the next day taemin sends the champagne video to celebrate your first time together
which brings us back to the start
and that’s how it all happened
now you know
congrats on being a lucky girl
related: super m as subs
FINAL NOTE. ah shit i love this dynamic, thank you for reading 🎊
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#super m smut#superm#super m#super m x reader#baekhyun smut#taemin smut#kai smut#lucas smut#ten smut#taeyong smut#mark lee smut#super m imagine#super m fanfic#baekhyun#kai#taemin#mark lee#lucas#yukhei#ten#chittaphon#taeyong
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SteveTony - Alternate Universe
Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!
Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.
After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.
"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.
"Oliver and Company" AU.
There's a great big world outside the box.
But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.
A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.
Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.
I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.
That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.
C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.
Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.
tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.
A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.
“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”
The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.
Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.
Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.
Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.
Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.
Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.
He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.
(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.
In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.
Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.
Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.
The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.
When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.
**Cinderella AU**
Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.
He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.
half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.
“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.
Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.
“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.
“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”
peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.
“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.
“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”
“I am not dating your husband—”
“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”
AKA
Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?
A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.
Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.
you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.
Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.
Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.
Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.
and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.
Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.
Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.
and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.
Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.
Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.
Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.
College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.
This does not go as he imagines.
Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.
The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.
Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.
Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.
Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.
When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.
Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.
When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.
just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.
“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."
(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)
Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.
“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”
Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.
The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.
Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.
Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.
Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.
It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.
Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.
A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.
That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.
Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU
Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.
do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.
Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.
a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.
The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.
The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."
The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."
Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.
"I'll buy them."
--
Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.
If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.
The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.
His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.
A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.
He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.
He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”
Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”
Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”
He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.
Oh wow.
Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.
After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.
Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.
Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.
In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.
She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.
“Your mom kissed me.”
Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”
“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”
“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”
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a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.
“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.
Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”
It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.
“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”
Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.
This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.
The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.
In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.
He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.
It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.
This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.
Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.
Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”
“For us. Definitely.”
They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.
How the fuck did they get here?
“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”
“Okay!”
With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.
“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.
“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”
“Oof. That’s rough.”
“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”
“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.
Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”
“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”
“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”
“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”
Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.
“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.
“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”
Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”
“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”
That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.
“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”
“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.
“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.
“Hah. No.”
“You told Mickey yet?”
Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”
From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.
“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”
“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”
The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.
“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.
“Polite,” Lip appraises.
Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”
“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”
They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.
“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”
Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”
“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”
Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.
“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.
Ian gives his brother a pointed look.
“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”
“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”
“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.
“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”
“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.
“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”
“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.
“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.
“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.
“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”
“Told you he was.”
“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”
“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.
Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”
Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”
Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”
Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”
Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”
“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”
“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.
Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.
“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”
Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.
Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?
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like real people do
PART TWO
hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:
words: 5837
pairing: hotch x reader
warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words
Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.
“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”
You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”
“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”
You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.
Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”
“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.
“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.
“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.
Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”
You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”
“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”
“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”
“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.
“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.
“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”
“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.
“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.
Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”
“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.
“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”
You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”
“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.
“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”
Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”
Reid winces, “Good luck.”
“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.
You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”
Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.
“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.
You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”
“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”
“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”
You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”
“Agent--”
“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”
He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.
Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”
“I screwed up, Rossi.”
“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”
“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”
Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”
Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”
Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.
***
You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.
“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.
“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”
Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.
***
“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.
“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.
“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”
“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.
“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”
“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.
You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.
***
“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.
“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”
Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.
“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”
He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”
You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”
“We’ll be right there.”
You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”
His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”
“He’s escalated. Why?”
You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”
Hotch nods, “Good work.”
He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.
***
You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.
“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”
When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.
And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.
“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.
Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”
You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.
***
You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”
“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”
She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”
You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”
“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”
When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”
“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”
***
“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”
“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.
“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”
“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.
“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”
“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”
“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”
Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”
You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”
Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”
“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”
You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”
“You’re upset.”
You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.
You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”
He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”
You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”
He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”
You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”
And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.
***
Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”
“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”
“Hotch is upset.”
“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.
“About you, obviously.”
You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”
“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”
You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”
“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”
You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”
He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”
“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.
But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”
“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”
“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”
Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”
“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”
You sigh, “I really hate being right.”
***
“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”
It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”
“Manual strangulation.”
“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”
Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”
“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”
“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”
“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”
“That’s what I told them.”
You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”
“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”
“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”
“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”
You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.
“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”
“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”
“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”
“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”
“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”
“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, Penelope.”
You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”
Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”
“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”
You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.
He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.
He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”
You nod, “Makes sense.”
“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”
You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”
He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”
***
This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.
“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.
He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.
“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”
You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”
“I just told you, from class.”
“Did you ever see them outside of class?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”
“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.
You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”
“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.
You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”
“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”
You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”
Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”
Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”
“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”
His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”
“Men like me?”
“Men who know how to get what they want.”
His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”
“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”
He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”
You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”
His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”
“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”
He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”
“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.
“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.
“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”
He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”
“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”
“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”
“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”
“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.
He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”
When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”
And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.
“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”
Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”
You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”
***
“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.
“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”
Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”
Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”
“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”
Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.
***
“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”
You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.
“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”
You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.
When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.
“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.
Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.
His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”
You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”
“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”
“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.
“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”
“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”
Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”
You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”
“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.
“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.
You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.
“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.
“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#hotch fic#hotch fluff#hotch angst#hotch imagine#mine
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praying that it waits for me
featuring: douglas friedman; supporting cast: alma green, verda, tina word count: 1.4k note: a @wayhavensummer entry for the 6/13 prompt first pride! doug's gay, i said so. (p.s. if you're closeted, i love you so much and it's okay not to come out. your reasons are your business and you're still part of this beautiful community)
It's a mindless thing, the way his attention searches for purchase on something, anything, in front of him. Something immediate. All the while those inescapable thoughts hover around the edge of his attempts at stimulation.
Douglas glances down at his phone. Back to the work computer. Clicks through a few links. Tries to read a stupid listacle. Back down when the phone vibrates—a text from Dad. He’ll think about that later. He swipes it off the screen as Alma and Verda come up from the lab.
They’re chattering away in a bubble of quiet laughter and relaxed touches as they hang their white coats on hooks by the station’s kitchen. There's something familial between them, an understanding that Doug’s never had with anyone.
He’s not sure if it’s something he can have. But he can hope.
It was months ago that Alma invited him in when he had nowhere else to go, even after he’d acted like an idiot. Longer still since she’d put herself between him and an attacker. Doug can’t describe how grateful he is that she cared. No one ever seems to care.
He thought he was in love, just for a moment. Thought he could finally ignore this clawing in his chest.
The part of himself he can’t face.
He buries the thought for now. They’re wandering over anyway.
“How’s it going, Doug?” Alma leans against his desk, words caught mid-giggle, and the bubble of warmth extends to him for a moment. The natural pull of her gravity is something he can’t resist—fully aware that this is not attraction—because he knows she’d care. She’d listen and tell him it’s okay.
He doesn’t say anything important. Only shrugs and offers a weak smile. “I’m okay. Ready to clock out.”
If they were alone, he could say more. Maybe even tell her the truth.
“I hear that.” She groans.
Eric pokes his head through the glass door, both daughters in tow, and Verda meets him with a quick kiss. Douglas tries not to stare. Takes a deep breath to hide the heat in his face.
There’s something else he can’t imagine having. Best not to even hope for that.
Goodbyes are said. Doug keeps his head down. It’s not long before one of the volunteers comes to relieve him at the front desk, and then he’s free for the night.
He wanders around town for a while. A coffee from Haley’s to savor at the docks; flipping through something new at the bookstore; finally, a single beer at the bar. Anything to avoid going home.
His phone buzzes for the first time since work. Dad again. Better check both texts now.
4:52 PM: Councilman Meyers and his family are coming to dinner tonight. Don’t embarrass me by being late.
Doug is way past late. That was the one that came through while he was at the front desk.
8:03 PM: You are, as always, a disappointment.
That sinking feeling in his gut both leads the way and slows his steps as he shuffles back to the north side of town. Back to the place he feels emptiest.
Doug enters as quietly as he can. There’s the clink of ice in a tumbler from the sitting room. Dad must be drowning his fury with whiskey.
“Goodnight,” Douglas mumbles from the foyer. No response.
His father doesn’t even bother to berate him to his face anymore. Doug doesn’t know what’s worse, being yelled at or being ignored.
In the safety of his room, the weight falls away. He can practice being himself.
He curls into bed with his laptop, fingers hovering over the keys with uncertainty. Every letter, every word typed into the search bar solidifies the truth of it a little more. The forums are always full of support, camaraderie, and understanding. More empathy than he's been shown in his life.
Would he receive the same love?
Doug showers before bed, wipes the fog off his mirror, and practices saying it.
"I'm gay," he whispers to himself. Then just a little louder. "I'm gay. I'm gay."
It’s not comfortable, but it’s his. Like new jeans, still too stiff when he sits, but they fit perfectly. Boots that might cause a blister for the first week, but will last for years.
He likes how it looks on him. Likes it enough to smile.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe he'll tell someone besides his reflection.
- - -
Tomorrow isn't different, nor is the next day. Or the one after that. But eventually, after stockpiling his courage, Doug decides it's time.
He stops at Haley’s to pick up a couple coffees. He doesn’t know Alma’s order, but everyone likes a flavored latte well enough, right? He wants to extend a friendly gesture. She’s the closest thing he’s had to a friend in a long time.
He catches her sliding out of her car in the station’s parking lot. His pounding heart protests as he moves around to the front of the car to make himself known.
It’s now or never.
“Alma,” he starts.
“Morning, Doug. Everything alright?” She heaves a messenger bag onto her shoulder and bumps the door shut with her hip. He looks for any signs of annoyance--a sharpened look, a pinched brow, a disappointed frown. Things he's used to seeing when he tries to talk to his father.
But she just looks a little confused, a little curious.
“I… I grabbed a coffee for you.” He awkwardly extends the drink, and she takes it after half a second’s hesitation.
“Thank you?”
Well, this is going spectacularly.
“Do you have a second? To talk?”
Her brows raise, curiosity shifting to something like worry, he thinks. It’s more concern than he’s gotten from either of his parents in a few years. She nods and gestures for him to follow her to the bench a few feet from the entrance.
“What’s up?”
Doug hasn’t given much thought to how to say this, only that he wants to say it. Wants someone to know him.
“There’s something I, um, want to tell you.” He sips his drink to steady his nerves. “Because you’re someone I can trust.”
He starts gathering the threads. How this started, when he knew, why he hasn’t told his parents.
Why he hasn’t told anyone.
Where he plans to go from here.
He knows the answers, but struggles to weave them into anything solid in his mind. He still has questions of his own, after all.
His sexuality isn’t something he can put into bullet points, no matter how much easier that’d make this conversation. So he sits, swaying on the edge of his truth, still afraid of becoming.
“Douglas? Are you okay?” Alma’s hand is on his arm, the lightest, warmest touch he can remember.
“I’m gay.”
The words fall out in a rush, and when he looks up, he’s met with soft eyes, a quiet smile. The hand squeezes his arm and pulls him in for a hug. His body, wiry and thin, sags against her small frame. A relieved laugh shakes through him.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “I’m so happy for you, Doug.”
The smile might as well be plastered to his face for the rest of the day. He feels lighter. Just like all the nights he's gone over it alone, this isn’t exactly what he’d call comfortable, but having someone accept him instead of dismissing him... well, it means the world.
- - -
Weeks pass. Work becomes a sanctuary, and Douglas springs to life in ways he never believed possible. He joins in their conversations, shares more of himself.
He comes out.
He invites others in.
Alma and Tina invite him to come along to the Pride festival in the big city, and even if the car ride is filled with a fuzzy, nervous haze for him, Doug sings—no, screams along with them to their favorite songs until it’s time to pile out of the car and join the crowds taking to the streets.
He’s allowed to lose himself in the electric pulse of energy, the colors, the overwhelming love of it all.
There are still questions to ask.
There is still progress to make.
Douglas shines with all the vibrant trepidation of the sun at dawn, making himself known, slowly, slowly as he ascends into what was once darkness. But he is certain this is where he belongs. For the first time, he feels like he’s part of something like a family.
#azia writes#wayhavensummer#wsf challenge#douglas friedman#listen i just feel like dougie gets shit on in the source material#he's not actually in love with alma he just wants a family#anyway i humbly submit this for your consideration#i'm sorry it doesn't feature the core cast. i know we're here for the vamps but i love the side characters T^T
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Marvelous Friends part 1
Summary: You join your best friend at a party, and meet the man of your dreams?
Characters: Reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x Sophie Hunter, RDJ x Susan Downey, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans
Warnings: cursing, reader in over her head, bad writing...
“Oh, for fuck’s sake Aaron, you are supposed to be preventing these things, not causing them“ you scream into your cell phone so agitated by this whole thing that you aren’t even aware that there are people watching you from the window.
You stepped outside trying to not cause a scene or god forbid have Sophie’s kids hear you and repeat anything you might say. You finally hang up and throw your phone across the lawn as Benedict comes out the door to check on you.
“Everything ok dear?” he approaches you with a smirk knowing full well that you are irritated beyond rational conversation. “Can I get you anything?” he asks. Turning to face him now that you’ve taken a few deep breaths,
“I think I need a new manager, got any good ones lying around?” you reply.
“Holy Shit! That was your manager! I just thought your husband was in the doghouse! Hi, I’m Robert” he sticks out his hand and you shake it, thankfully you are still too riled up to get star struck and make a fool of yourself.
“Hi, sorry, I didn’t intend to be that loud, but that man is an absolute jackass! I’m Y/N” you respond as you blow out some air and try to calm down.
“Y/N darling, you need a drink, let me make you a martini”
“No, Benny, I’m your babysitter tonight and you know one martini turns into 5” you smirk as you follow the two of them back into the house.
Sophie is coming down the stairs and her smile disappears when she sees your red face and Benedict heading toward the kitchen. “Y/N, what happened? Are you ok?” she asks, her voice thick with worry.
“Oh Phie, I’m fine, Aaron is just trying my patience and I couldn’t stay quiet” you smile as she wraps you in a hug, then busts out laughing.
“Well, that’s a long time coming, I’m not sure how you have worked with him this long without bloodshed” she quips as Benedict hands you a cup of tea.
“I’m not that bad to work with, I just don’t like my personal life to be used without my permission. Ugh, I just don’t have the energy for him today, I wanted to come and have fun with Kit, Hal & Finn” you whine as you sip your tea “but apparently the drama pays off because this is the best cup of tea Benny has ever made for me, thank you” you reach up and peck his cheek “I’m feeling better already.”
“Good, because the boys have a list of fun for you tonight and they are extremely excited.” Sophie responds “Oh, and this is Susan, Robert’s wife”
“It’s nice to meet you, now you all go on and have a lovely dinner and don’t worry about us” you smile to the couples as you head upstairs to check on the kids.
Three hours later the two couples walk back into the house to find you frantically typing on your laptop at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, with a cold cup of tea next to you. You jump when you hear someone clear their throat, not realizing they had come in and were all staring at you.
“What? Why are you all staring at me?” you ask.
Sophie shakes her head and giggles at you “we asked if you wanted to join us for a drink, apparently you are very focused on your work and didn’t even hear us come in.”
“Sorry, I was planning my wedding” you reply with a smirk “Kit proposed again, actually, I’m not sure this was a proposal, it was more or less a list of reasons why my previous decline is not being accepted. Apparently, age is just a number and I can move to England right away, so the wedding is next week” you explain as you follow the others over to the bar.
Benedict turned around with a guilty look on his face, “what did you do?” his wife asks with a pointed glare. “I was reassuring our son that if he liked someone and made his intentions known then any girl would be lucky to have him, but in my defense, I thought he was talking about that little girl down the street, Madison. They were playing yesterday and he seemed smitten, so when he mentioned his love living in the US and not in England…..I was trying to help” he huffed out as he started pouring the drinks.
You all start laughing and realize that since it’s Benedict’s fault, he will have to break it to Kit that you will not be marrying him next week. “Why do I have to be the bad guy here? It was an accident!” Ben protests “and why didn’t you just tell him you have a boyfriend already and can’t marry him?”
“Because I would never lie to Kit” you respond, sipping your martini. “I haven't really met anyone since I moved back from Vancouver, a few dates here or there but no one to write home about" you say with a shrug “Well, in that case, can I give you away at the wedding?” Robert asks and thankfully lightens the mood. It was another two hours of drinking and laughing with your oldest and newest friends before you all decide to call it a night.
“Y/N, Robert and I are having friends over to our place on Sunday, we would love for you to be there” Susan states as they are heading toward the door. “That’s so sweet, thank you, I’ll just tag along as an extra Cumberbatch” you tell her as you hug her goodbye.
You wake the next morning and know that you have a ton of work to do and 0 motivation. Deciding to distract yourself as best you can, you text Sophie about the party at Susan & Robert’s.
So what kind of party is this thing tomorrow?
Phie: They usually have 30 or so people, tons of food, drinks, but very laid back. I think you will like it
That’s reassuring, the last thing I need is to make a fool out of myself in front of Ben’s celebrity friends
Phie: Oh, there will definitely be celebs there, but honestly I have no idea who, most likely a bunch of the Marvel crew, those who are in town anyway….but don’t stress, they are all mostly normal people, lol
Well, I’m going to work on some writing and then maybe try to find something nice to wear to the party, I might make a fool of myself, but I need to look like I have my act together
Phie: Send me pics, I’ll help you decide….btw Ben has been questioning me on your dating habits, I have a funny feeling that he might try to set you up...
Well, that sounds dreadful, I love your husband but what is his track record for match making?
Phie: I don't think he's actually ever tried to set anyone up before
Fantastic, I'm the guinea pig 🙄
Ok, what do you think of these, I don’t want to be overdressed or look like I’m homeless
Phie: I love them both, but how about you were the short one & I borrow the blue one?
That is a great idea! I’ll be there a bit early so we can get ready together. Who is staying home with the boys?
Phie: Actually, day time parties with the Downey’s usually includes the kids, so they will be joining us
Time for the party came earlier than you had anticipated as you pulled up to Phie’s house, Kit came running out the door with a big smile on his face. Crouching down you scooped him into a hug and kissed his cheek.
“Well aren’t you in a good mood today, handsome?” asking as you set him back down. He grabbed your hand and began dragging you back to the house.
“Mum told me we can’t get married next week, but I can still love you for the rest of my life, isn’t that great!” he exclaimed as you walked in the front door.
“That is the best thing I’ve heard all week! And I get to love you for the rest of my life too” you reply watching the realization hit him and his smile get even bigger and run off to tell everyone the good news. Before you could do anything, you went back out to your car and grabbed your bags and then headed up to Phie’s bedroom to get ready.
“There you are, I was beginning to worry” she said as she pecked your cheek and gave you a hug, then handed you a glass.
“Did you start day drinking without me?” you inquire as you sip on the merlot with a smile on your face.
“I just opened the bottle for us to enjoy while we get ready. I spoke with Kit and the wedding is off but he understands and all is well. Benedict tried and, just made everything messier” she responded while pulling the blue dress from the garment bag.
“You did a fantastic job, he gave me the biggest hug and seems very happy that we will not be getting married” you giggle as you move around her room figuring out the best place to put your things.
“I think he’ll be more upset about you taking off next week than anything, that’s why I’m not planning on telling him until after you’ve gone. He has grown really attached to you” she smirks as she’s slipping the dress on.
Before you realize it, the wine bottle is empty and Ben is knocking on the door.
“You two look amazing as always, but the car is here, so we need to head out. Can you bring Kit down with you while I go down and get Hal & Finn seated in the car?” he asks as Kit comes in and gasps looking up at his mom.
“Mum, you look like a princess” he hugs her legs and looks up at her lovingly.
“Thank you love, you look very handsome. Are you ready to go? Do you have your bag?” she asks while rubbing his back.
“Oh, I need to get that, and can I give Y/N her present now?” You look over a bit confused
“oh Kit, you didn’t have to get me a gift” you tell him as he gives you a hug.
“But it’s important to show the people you love how special they are, I’ll be right back” he states as he heads back downstairs. You look at Sophie confused and she just smirks at you as both follow him down to the kitchen. He holds up a cupcake with a huge grin on his face.
“This is for you, because you are as sweet as a cupcake. And that’s a ring you can wear to remind you that you are wonderful when I’m not here to tell you.”
You feel like you are about to cry, it was by far the most sincere and thoughtful thing you have ever heard. “Thank you! I love it & I love you!” you told him as you kissed his forehead and put the ring on.
“Alright, let’s get going Kit, dad and your brothers are in the car waiting for us!” Sophie grabbed his hand and laced your arm with hers as she ushered you all out the door.
Stepping out of the car at the Downey’s house you started walking towards the door when Kit came up and grabbed your hand.
“Can I be your date tonight?” he asked with a shy grin.
“Absolutely! There’s no one else I would want to accompany me tonight.”
Ben turns to you, holding Hal & Finn “remember Kit, the kids are going to be playing upstairs, but you can join us when you get hungry, alright?”
“Yes, dad, but Y/N is still my girl” he stated proudly as you walked through the door.
“That’s right Ben, I’m Kit’s girl!” you lean down and kiss the top of his head just before he heads up the stairs with his dad. Sophie grabbed your arm and the two of you headed further into the house.
Robert spotted you almost immediately and came over hugging you both “where is the fiance? Are all the details in place for the ceremony? I’m still walking you down the aisle right?”
“Hi Robert, I’m sorry but the ceremony has been cancelled. Sophie was able to talk some sense into Kit since Benny was useless” you reply.
“I heard that!” Ben remarks as he’s coming into the room. “And in my defense, I’m not useless, just not very good at telling my son no.”
“It’s alright dahling, you tried your best.” Sophie tried to console Benedict who seemed to take your statement to heart.
“Well, I’m glad you made it, can I get you a drink?” Susan asked as an attempt to move on to a more neutral conversation.
“Yes, please” you replied happily as you followed her to the bar.
“Y/N? Y/N L/N? Holy Shit!” You heard from the doorway to the next room, where most of the party goers had already gathered. You turned and was shocked
“Seb? Holy Shit! How are you?” you asked as you moved over to hug him. “It’s been so long, I’m surprised you recognized me.”
“I’m good” he responded “and yea, it’s been like...10 years? And you look great, haven’t aged a bit!”
You laughed at his response “that is an absolute lie, but I will take the compliment anyway.” you giggle at him. He was always such a nice guy to work with and genuinely considerate to everyone on set. His charming personality always made you smile.
“This is so great running into you, I saw your interview on Good Day LA last week. You are doing so great!” he said with a huge smile.
“Oh thanks, but I think that may have been the worst interview in the history of television. I was honestly hoping no one saw it” you cringed rethinking how quickly the questions had gone off the rails. You are a writer, becoming more well known over the past decade so interviews were becoming more common for you, but that one felt more like a Twilight Zone episode.
“Well, it was a bit crazy, but you handled a lot better than most people would. I was impressed” he grinned as he took a sip of his beer.
“Thanks, I appreciate that, and my whole deer in headlights reaction.” you commented as you took the drink Susan offered.
“Hey, I didn’t know you knew each other?” you heard Robert say as he came up from behind you “and what happened in the interview?”
“Yea, I was writing for Gossip Girl, back when Seb was on and he was constantly teasing me for being cold” you reminded him with a smirk.
“New York in fall is beautiful, not cold! You are crazy!” he responds as he starts laughing at me.
“And the interview was a shit show that I barely made it out alive” you state with a roll of your eyes.
“That’s not true, you put that woman in her place and didn’t seem fazed by her ridiculous questions at all” he told me.
“What the hell happened?” Robert seemed more interested than I thought he would
“we were talking about my new book and the book tour coming up, then all of a sudden she’s asking me about my ex” I responded as I shrugged my shoulders. Sebastian looked at me “then, the woman asks if she’s seeing anyone now, and your response was priceless, I might steal it if you don’t mind” he states as he’s laughing remembering the interview.
“Y/N, dear, what did you say?” Robert asks with a smirk.
“I asked her ‘why? Are you shooting your shot?” as you start laughing too, realizing that you probably couldn’t have planned it if you tried. At this point you realize there are more of the Marvel friends standing around listening to your conversation and you don’t even care.
Your first drink is kicking in and it’s not like you are ever going to see these people again. “Honestly, I don’t know why she even mentioned my ex, nobody cares who I’m dating, I’m a writer”
“Yes, but when us writers date high profile celebrities, people want to know” Sophie reminds you as she puts her arm around you.
“Oh Phie, high profile is a bit of a stretch doncha think? But you are always my voice of reason, this is why I love you!” you say as you kiss her cheek. Looking around the room you wonder if there’s anyone else here you know, when you see Chris Evans on the other side of the room.
Benedict immediately follows your line of sight and smirks before taking your empty glass. “I think you need a refill, here allow me, why don't you and Sophie go find a place to chat.”
His wife shakes her head and gives you a small sympathetic smile before sending him back for refills. Sophie drags you further into the room and finds a spot to sit that gives you a better view of Mr. Evans.
“I didn’t realize you knew Sebastian” she said as she sat.
“Yea, we worked together when I was living in NY, that was 10 or 12 years ago. I didn’t know you knew him” you respond. She looks at you questioningly, then shakes her head.
“All the Marvel people know each other, you still haven’t watched the movies, have you?”
“Um, I haven’t seen all of them, there are a lot, but I did watch Doctor Weirdo, and Benny was very good!” you respond quite proud of yourself.
“Bloody hell! It’s Doctor Strange, we’ve had this discussion before” Ben states as he hands you your fresh drink.
“Ok, I’m sorry. Doctor Strange, although I don’t think that’s much better than Doctor Weirdo. And in my defense, your facial hair in the movie gave me nightmares'' you say as you sip on your drink.
“Anyway, did the ex contact you after the interview? I’m just curious?” Ben asks, rolling his eyes at you.
You scrunch up your nose at the question “no, why would he? I haven’t spoken to him in the last four years. And honestly I'm sure he deleted my number. Can we talk about anyone else?"
"Yes, what's the schedule on the book tour? How long will you be gone?" Sophie acts trying to defuse the irritation in your voice with the mention of your ex.
You can tell by the way she's glancing at her husband that she's trying to figure out why he brought up your ex knowing full well that if he had contacted you, she would have been the first one to know about it..
"Oh I'm flying out next Sunday, heading for NYC, then I'll be in Boston for 2 days, then a day In Philly, a day in Baltimore and I'm not 100% of the cities after that, other than ending up the following week in Miami so I can be with the family for spring break" you mention to them.
"Did I hear you say you are only going to Boston for 2 days, that's not nearly long enough" you hear a deep voice state as you look up and see Chris Evan's standing next to Seb and walking closer to you.
Holding out his hand "I'm Chris, I don't think we've met" he states.
You plaster the most sincere smile you can on your face in hopes of not drooling at the sight of him, shaking his hand "I'm Y/N, and yes, this tour is only 2 days in Boston, but I lived there for 5 years so I’ve seen quite a bit already” you respond.
“Huh? For someone who’s cold all the time, you seem to wind up in colder climates” Seb laughs at you. “Shut up! You are the worst!” you respond with a laugh.
“It’s true though, darling. And you always call me to complain about it!” Sophie responds with a smirk.
“OK, in my defense, Boston was a needed escape from my family, whom I love dearly but can be quite suffocating at times. Then Chicago was my first real job after graduation and I couldn’t pass that up! And as my best friend, Phie, you are required to listen to all my complaining, regardless of the topic” you state matter of factly.
“And last year in Vancouver, that was the worst yet, she would send me photos of eyelashes with ice crystals on them” Sophie laughs remembering your first winter in Canada and how miserable you were.
“That was awful and you and Benny both ridiculed me, I’m still emotionally scared”
“So, you don’t like the cold but keep torturing yourself?” Chris asks with a smirk.
“It appears I do, but it’s always for good reason. Chicago was an opportunity I couldn’t resist, if I had taken that job, I probably wouldn't have published my first novel” you explain with fondness.
“That’s not true, Y/N. Your first novel was incredible and it would have been published eventually” Ben states as he takes your empty glass.
“Benedict has read my book?” you asked Sophie completely shocked.
“He has read all of your novels, but I think the first 3 was trying to find juicy gossip on how we met or something to try and blackmail you later, I’m not quite sure” she responds with a shrug.
“Hold on” Seb interjects “your book, Searching for more, is about Sophie?”
“Yes, and no” you respond “the adventure that Annabell has is loosely based on my summer after high school before moving to Boston. And her new found friend, Fiona, is Sophie to a T! And I’m also shocked that you’ve read it” you eyed him suspiciously.
“Ok, so you really married a French man when you were 18 and brought him back with you?” Seb asks, completely disregarding that you questioned him about reading the book. How did your day turn out like this? This was the most surreal moment you have had in a long time.
“No, he wasn’t French, he was Belgian!” Benedict responds as he comes back in with refills. You start laughing when you see the way Chris and Seb are staring at you wide eyed.
“Oh my gosh!�� No, I didn’t get married when I was 18. And Benny, you weren't there, you don’t know anything” shaking your head. “Annabelle’s story is loosely based on events that occurred, we didn’t get married…..and he was Swiss, I think.” you snicker when you look over at Sophie for confirmation, she shrugs and takes a drink.
The five of you continue to chat for another hour or so when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn to see Kit smiling at you with a cup in his hand “I missed you” he states as he climbs up into your lap and hugs you around your neck.
“I missed you too little man, do anything fun while you were upstairs?” you asked as he made himself more comfortable.
“I didn’t know you had a kid” Seb says as you are trying to balance the 5 year old in your lap with your drink in your hand.
Kit looks up at him “she’s not my mum, she’s my girl! That’s my mum” he states as he points to Sophie.
“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Seb, this is my friend Chris. What’s your name?” he asks while Kit plops himself in the middle of the group as though he should have been there all along.
“I’m Kit” he states as he extends his hand to both Chris and Sebastian.
“So, she’s your girl, huh?” Chris asks with a smirk “is it serious?”
“Very! He gave me a ring today, see.” showing Chris your right hand and the Wonder Woman ring.
“Wait a minute, the wedding is cancelled, but you still gave her a ring? I’m not sure that’s how it works buddy” Robert kneels down talking to Kit.
“it’s ok, I get to love her forever and we can get married when I’m 30!” Kit explains as he rushes off to join the other kids.
You all turn and look at Sophie “I thought you fixed it Phie! You’ve just given him a deadline!" you gasp.
She smiles at you with a guilty look on her face "I think you might need to grab a bite to eat before you have another drink. And honestly, I'm sure he will forget all about this in a few months. Besides, I won't let my 30 year old son marry some 60 something year old hag that's after him for his money!" she states as seriously as possible.
You deadpan "thanks for that. I need a new best friend" you roll your eyes and head towards the food.
"Well, I didn't see that coming" Robert chuckles as he watches the two of you walk out of the room.
"That actually went better than I expected" Ben responds and shakes his head, "those two are worse than siblings."
A/N: I had an idea of who the ex is, but I may just leave it open for interpretation, he does come into the story later, but can remain faceless
#marvel au#avengers au#marvel cast rpf#sebastian stan x reader#chris evans x reader#rdj x reader#benedict cumberbatch#sebastian stan#chris evans fan fiction#robert downey jr#benedict cumberbatch x reader
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Fake Dating pt. 2
M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words
This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.
Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.
“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”
You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”
Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”
“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”
“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”
You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.
“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.
“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”
“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”
“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.
“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.
“I fixed that.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”
“I apologized!”
“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”
Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”
“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.
Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.
It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.
“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”
“That feels morally dubious,” you said.
“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”
“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”
“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.
Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.
“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.
“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”
He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.
You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.
He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.
“Wake up!”
You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.
“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”
“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”
You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”
“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.
“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.
“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.
“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”
Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”
“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.
“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m sick,” you told him.
He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”
You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”
Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”
“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”
“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.
The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.
Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.
You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.
Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.
As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.
Naturally, you missed your stop.
About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”
You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”
“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”
“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”
Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”
“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.
You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.
The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.
Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.
Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”
He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”
“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”
Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.
“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.
“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”
“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”
Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”
“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”
Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.
Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?
You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.
“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”
“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.
Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.
“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.
“Work,” you said.
Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”
“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.
Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”
“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.
“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”
“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”
You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.
It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.
You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.
Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”
“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”
“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”
“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”
“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.
Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.
Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.
“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.
“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.
Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.
“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”
Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”
“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”
Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”
“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”
Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”
“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”
With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-
His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.
You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”
“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”
You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”
Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”
“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”
“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.
“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”
Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.
You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.
“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”
You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”
“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.
“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.
“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”
“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”
Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”
You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.
“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.
“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.
“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”
Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”
“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.
When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”
“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”
“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”
He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.
You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.
The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.
Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.
“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.
“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”
“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”
“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.
“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.
“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.
One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”
You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”
Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.
You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”
“You’d manage,” you said.
“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”
You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”
“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”
“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”
“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.
“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”
“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”
“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”
You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”
It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.
There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.
You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.
One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”
“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.
“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”
“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”
“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”
You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”
“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”
You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.
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hi!! how are you? I’m the one who sent you that dream prompt lol
I was thinking of this (way less weird) prompt: where feyre and Rhys knew each other since kids and were together, there’s a part of the books that Rhys says he and mor used to be sent to the cabin when they got into trouble (I think?) and here it is: Rhys has got himself in a fight with his dad and is sent there alone, but feyre finds a way to go to him without anyone knowing and they have the cabin all to themselves *insert smut here*
Hello little dreamer! Alright I've done so much prompt work these last couple of days and was trying to work through them chronologically because that's what seems fair but now I am tired and I just want to do one more and then take a break and this one is hands down my FAVOURITE of the ones left in my inbox right now. So you're getting bumped up!! Bit of a long one, fair warning.
A Chink in the Wall
Rhys has been alive for eighteen years, has known Feyre for seventeen, and has loved her for what feels like a thousand. He does not remember a time without Feyre, he has known she is his mate since before he knew what the word meant, and their progression from childhood best friends to lovers was something he does not remembering happening at one particular time, but gradually, the same way his legs had grown longer.
What he does remember is the first time they'd slept together, and how he'd spent so long thinking about it beforehand that he'd thought he'd go mad, only to discover the real madness was once they'd started and then couldn't stop. He'd thought he was hyper-aware of Feyre before- now the scent of her hit him like a brick any time she walked in the room, and once he'd caught her scent he needed to be touching her. Would start to shake and fall apart at the seams until he could pull her into his lap.
Over the years, Rhys's mother always told him that he was too rough with Feyre. Did it when they were kids and did it now, when Feyre would be around their house and he constantly had his hands under her hair or squeezing on her her hip or scratching at her belly.
"You can put her down for one second, for Cauldron's sake," she'd say over dinner.
And Rhys knew why. Had always known that as the High Lord's only son, he had power roiling off him in waves. He figured it was part of the reason why he was always moving, more and more as he got older. Whether it was sparring with the Illyrians or crawling thought the bedroom of Feyre's bedroom window, it felt like he leapt between extremes these days. Felt like he was always thirsty and needing to swallow down violence and pleasure and feeling like water. His father called it the "age of fighting and fucking;" his mother said this is why they couldn't have nice things.
But his mother doesn't know Feyre like he does. Feyre isn't some fragile little girl, she is the strongest person he knows. She is the only one who, when he is throwing all he has at her, can not only contain the energy flooding out of him in uncontrollable torrents, but still loves him all the same for it.
So these days, he does not like to be without her. Does not like to be too far from her, and although they both have curfews, Rhys does not often sleep alone.
Today is a exception.
Today, Rhys is fighting with his father because he stole a fine bottle of brandy from his father's shelf and snuck it between the bars of the cell where Azriel has been locked away. Again.
Rhys yells that what they are doing to Azriel is cruel and if they let it go on they are just as bad. His father yells back that it is not their place to meddle in another family's business and what does this have to do with Rhys being a sneak and a thief? Rhys says it is typical of his father to care more about alcohol than the life of a fae, and his father says and what exactly are you trying to say boy? And then he tells Rhys that he was not so old that Rhys's power is greater than his just yet, and then the fight breaks out.
Rhys does not like to reflect on what happens next too much because he wants to win so badly, wants to best his father just once, but he is eighteen and his father is nine hundred and twenty and the High Lord of the largest court in Prythian.
Suffice to say, the fight is over when Rhys has a black eye and bruised ribs, his father is holding him off the floor by his shirt front, and his mother is pleading with him to put him down.
He drops Rhys with a thud, and Rhys glowers at him.
"The cabin," his father snarls.
"Surely he's had punishment enough," his mother says, but his father does not look at her.
"You come swinging your fists at me?" he says to Rhys. His voice is quiet now, but glitters with rage. "You steal from me, you defy me, and then you come at me with your pathetic little claws out? Well. You can spend three days in isolation."
Rhys looks toward his mother, but there's nothing she can do. He opens his mouth to sling a final insult at his father, but space is already folding around him and he's being sent where no one else can winnow in or out without his father's explicit say so.
Rhys spends the next twenty minutes angrily pacing the cabin. He flings shadows aimlessly at the cabinets, curses his father eight times to sunday, and punches a hole in the wall. It is the latter that gets Feyre's attention.
Ouch, she says through the bond. I felt that one.
Rhys drops onto a couch heavily, the anger washing out of him at the sound of Feyre's voice in his mind.
I'm sorry, he says. I know you hate it when I break things.
Things. Your own knuckles. Yeah it's not my favourite.
Rhys sighs. I'm in the cabin, he tells her.
I know, she says. What did you do this time?
Got into a fight with my dad.
Well did you at least land a couple good ones?
Rhys grins, in spite of himself. I did manage to get a kick into his stomach, this time.
Good, Feyre says. Unlike his mother, she never tells him to try to get along with his father.
I miss you, Rhys says.
You saw me this morning, Feyre points out.
Yes, replied Rhys, but you had way too many clothes on. It didn't count. He can almost feel Feyre shifting in his mind.
You always think I'm wearing too many clothes, she says.
I do, Rhys agrees. Not naked is not good enough.
He slouches back on the couch and closes his eyes. Although he is not yet powerful enough to take down his father, his power is growing. Day by day it stretches and expands uncomfortably, like growing pains, and when he's not in Feyre's bed, sometimes the shadows hound him at night. They claw at him now, rake at his chest like a cat that thinks it's giving affection but leaves you in tatters.
He turns his thoughts back to more pleasant things.
Take it off, he growls at Feyre. Take it all off. I hate it when I can't see your skin.
And what makes you think I've been wearing clothes this whole time? Feyre asks. Rhys freezes, and is rock hard in an instant.
Show me, he shoots down the bond.
Ask nicely, Feyre answers.
Please, Rhys says. Runs his talons down the shields of her mind from top to bottom. Please. Sends her a memory of him kissing her every inch of skin. Please.
Feyre's shudder reaches him like a whisper, and then he's seeing through her eyes.
The interior of her bedroom. Where he spends more time than in his own. Clothes strewn on the floor- boots kicked off in the corner. Illyrian leathers dumped in a pile. Under garments hanging off the end of the bed.
Feyre's bare ankles crossed in front of her on her bed, on top of the covers.
Rhys shivers. He watches Feyre's gaze travel excruciatingly slowly upward, up her shins, past her knees, onto her lovely thighs.
More, Rhys breathes, but Feyre pauses. Her knees bend and the view shifts, as if she has been sitting up and is now laying back down. I need you like I need air, Rhys whimpers, and his hand grabs at the insistent ache in the front of his pants.
Mmm, sighs Feyre. Sometimes I need you. Sometimes I think I could just do it myself. Her gaze finally shifts and watches her own hand slide between her legs.
Oh you cruel thing! Rhys says. He is now practically panting the sight of her starting without him. He loves it. He hates it. It's nowhere near enough.
You know it's not as good by yourself, Rhys tells her.
I don't know, Feyre muses. I'm pretty sure it's faster. Rhys growls.
Who needs faster, he says, when I can be so, so slow. He shows her the image of him settling between her knees. Pressing kisses that start at her knee and travel down her inner thigh. Laying the flat of his tongue on her and licking a lazy stripe up her pussy that ends in a suckling kiss over her clit.
Feyre moans straight down the bond, and it cleaves through Rhys like a arrow shot true. Get over here, he tells her, and Feyre laughs breathlessly.
I can't, lover, she says. Your father has that place warded like a prison, remember? Rhys swears out loud and hurls more shadows uselessly against the walls of magic.
Alright, alright, Feyre says to him. You know just throwing things at it isn't going to work.
Fuck this, Rhys says savagely. You're my mate, he can't keep us apart.
Well, we just need to outsmart him, then, Feyre reasons. He might be stronger, but I've always thought you were smarter. Well, she amends. At least you were when you bothered to use your brain and before you were all... testosterone-y.
Rhys finds himself smiling. Testosterone-y?
Yeah, you know, Feyre says. The old upstairs brain. Remember that guy?
Rhys laughs. He is always in awe of how quickly Feyre calms him down. I thought you liked my downstairs brain, he says in his midnight voice.
Use your upstairs brain to get me through the wards, and I'll show you how much I like your downstairs brain.
And that is more than motivation enough.
Rhys gets up off the couch, and paces around the room again. My dad has always been lazy with spells, he says. He relies on his brute strength, and on everyone being afraid of him more than anything else.
Okay, Feyre says, picking up his train of thought. So... what if there's a weakness in his wards?
A chink in the wall, Rhys agrees.
Yes.
Rhys stands still, and reaches out his mind. Probes against the wards surrounding the cabin, and is aware of Feyre doing the same on the other side. They work their way right around the cabin, when finally, Feyre breathes, here.
And then Rhys gathers every bit of power he has in him, and pushes it all against that one spot. Reaches through it, throws everything he's got until his hand is breaking through, Feyre's grabbing a hold of him, they're folding space and he pulls.
There's a shudder that runs through the cabin, and then an extremely naked Feyre falls right into Rhys's chest and they collapse on the thick carpet together.
For a second, they just blink at each other in surprise.
"It worked," says Feyre. And then Rhys realises holy shit it worked, and smoothly rolls so that Feyre is on her back and he is all over her.
"Great work," is all he says, and then he blinks and his clothes vanish too so they are both naked and the heat of her against his bare cock is absolutely unbearable. He groans, slides his hand under one of her thighs, squeezing gently, and hooks it over his elbow before pushing straight into her, unable to stand not being inside her for one more second.
Feyre moans and lifts her hips to him, barely less eager. Rhys wonders idly if the age of fighting and fucking applies to females, and then as Feyre's nails scratch angry red lines over his shoulders he thinks it might just. He wonders how long this age will go on for, and if his desperate need for Feyre will ever abate. He hopes it doesn't.
"I thought you were going to be slow," Feyre says, breathless but with the most gorgeous light dancing in her eyes. Rhys's body screeches at him but he manages to get control of his movements. To move in and out of her languidly, lazily, tortuously slow. Feyre seems to enjoy it at first, keeps her eyes on his until they're rolling back in her head.
But the longer it goes on the more sensitive she becomes, until she is writhing in his arms seeking more friction, and every time he hits his base she jolts like she's being electrified. The fact that he is tormenting himself, too, seems absolutely worth it for the knowledge that he alone can wring this kind of pleasure from her.
"Still rather play by yourself?" he teases. "Does it feel like this when it's just your own fingers?"
Feyre snaps her eyes open at this, and between jagged breaths, teases him right back.
"Sometimes," she says. "When I'm touching myself and picturing you." A shiver runs through Rhys. "When I've got one hand between my legs and the other squeezing my breast." She demonstrates the last, and Rhys watches with hunger as her hand goes over her own chest.
"Fuck," he bites out, and picks up the pace a little.
"When I've got you curled around my mind and showing me that you're touching yourself too."
Rhys speeds up again.
"But mostly, no," she says, barely able to speak now. "No, nothing feels as good as when you're fucking me senseless."
And Rhys can't argue with that. He forgets his self-control completely and loses himself in her, in her body, in the intoxication of the sounds that she makes when he's inside her. The irony of his sentence to a remote location is that for once, they are able to make as much noise as they want and every time Feyre moans Rhys thinks he gets a little high.
By the time Rhys is close, they have started to breathe in tandem, and he locks his eyes on hers so that seconds later they are coming together. Rhys is breathless with the beauty of her, has always loved the look on her face when she climaxes, and suddenly the prospect of being locked up alone for three days seems mighty appealing.
Feyre sighs, eyes closed and chest moving deeply as she gets her breath back. Rhys draws out of her and then immediately misses her. He kisses her cheeks, her nipples, her stomach, and then without really thinking about it, closes his mouth around her clit and strokes it back and forth with his tongue.
Feyre sighs his name, and the sound of it is so sweet that he redoubles his efforts, until Feyre is rocking her hips to him and before he knows it, they're starting again.
Rhys thinks its going to be a very good three days indeed.
**** Little babies. Sigh I do love them so. Thank you my sweet anon for this lovely prompt.
Bonus: click here to see what Rhys's dark powers look like when they're still growing and trying to figure their shit out.
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TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars
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Dress Code, Part 1
Part 2, Part 3 (T rated), Part 3 (M rated)
Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader
Rating: T
Warnings: Some swearing, references to sexuality, mostly just fluff with some longing
Summary: You’re headed out to shop when Din takes issue with your dress
Word Count: ~3000
Author’s Note: This will be at least a two part story, possibly three parts if I can make it all connect well. This takes place at some point between seasons or maybe early on in Season 2.
P.S. There’s a tiny nod to Ed Sheeran in this.
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“Is that what you’re wearing?” the Mandalorian’s gruff voice questions as you are getting the child ready for a day of supply shopping. It feels like forever since you’ve been off the ship and you are in dire need of fresh food and other essentials. You swear if you have to eat one more packet of reconstituted soup your taste buds will shrivel and die. You are also desperately looking forward to breathing in fresh air and feeling the sunshine on your skin again. As luck would have it, you’ve landed in a spot that is lush and green with a moderate climate, and as you flew by overhead you spied a bright and colorful village with a bustling marketplace.
Back home you never would have considered food shopping a reason for dressing up, but after many long months on a starship, these brief outings feel like a special event to you. In your eagerness to be outside again, you decided to wear a pretty sundress that you love. It hugs your curves in all the right places but still manages to be flowy and soft, plus you know this color is one of the most flattering for you. Ok, maybe you didn’t need to also do your hair and makeup quite this nicely, but you figured, why not? it made you feel good. Plus there was the added hope that maybe the Mandalorian would look at you for once as more than just a crew member. Not that you should want him to do that, you remind yourself strictly, he is your boss after all.
“I suppose it’s a little dressier than normal for shopping, but I think I look nice,” you respond smoothing your hands over the dress and feeling a small thrill of delight that at least he noticed the dress.
Din makes a hmpf sort of sound as if he wants to disagree with you but can’t bring himself to actually say anything definitive.
“What do you think, sweet baby?” you say with a wink to the child. He grins up at you and makes his happy cooing sounds. “He seems to like it.”
“Let’s get going,” Din says, ignoring your comment and handing you your cloak.
“I don’t need my cloak, Mando, it’s a warm, sunny day out there,” you tell him.
“So, you’re just going to go out, like that, exposed.” He is still holding out the cloak to you.
“Exposed?” you say with a laugh, “This is a perfectly respectable dress.”
“Your arms are naked and so are most of your legs and toes,” he points out. His hands are on his hips and he tilts his helmet as if his eyes are traveling down your body taking in the knee-length sundress and ending at your open-toed sandals. You feel your cheeks flush and the ship seems warmer all of a sudden as he scrutinizes your body.
“Mando, I know this is more skin than you’d ever show, but trust me, non-Mandalorian women dress like this all the time,” you reason with him. “Besides, I wasn’t aware this marketplace had a strict dress code.”
“What if it does?” he retorts.
“Seriously. Is that the best you can do?” You’re getting a little annoyed at him now, and as you think about it you realize he’s made a few off-hand comments recently about the way you dress. Why is he making this an issue?
Din knows he is being a pain in the ass about the dress and it has much more to do with him than he would care to admit. He’s noticed that you wear your prettiest clothes each time you leave the ship, but this is the first time he’s openly questioned you about it. When he hired you to help him out with the child, he thought you were much too beautiful and that it was probably a bad idea. Hell, everyone always has jokes about dads and hot nannies. But he also knew that was a really shitty and misogynistic reason to deny someone a job, so he hired you because you were clearly the best candidate. Din had been absolutely right in that area and he admired the way you had bonded with the child and cared for him as if he were your own. But still, lately everything you do has been driving him crazy with desire and he’s getting more frustrated by the day. Just yesterday he had walked in on you cooking dinner, playing music, and dancing around the ship’s tiny galley. He was transfixed as you swayed your hips to the beat and listened to the singer crooning to you that he was in love with your body. It had made him flee to the fresher for a cold shower just to calm down. Frankly, the sight of you in this dress is making him yearn for another cold dousing. Besides that, he knows that the moment you get to the marketplace, his eyes won’t be the only ones on you, a thought that makes his stomach churn with ill-placed jealousy, but one that does give him an idea for a better counter-argument.
“You’ll attract too much attention.” Din finally tells you soundly.
“Excuse me? Mr. Head-to-Toe Beskar? I attract too much attention.” You sound incredulous.
“I attract the right kind of attention that says, ‘back off’,” he replies, “but you attract horny male attention, that seems to say, ‘hang around and be a pain’.”
“Oh, puh-lease. I’m not the only one who can attract horny male attention, Mando,” you sass back at him with a playful look, “The galaxy takes all kinds, and who can resist a man in shining armor?”
“Well,” Din clears his throat and looks away for a moment, “that may be the case,” he mutters, but then he turns his visor back towards you, and says more confidently, “but the men you attract are much more aggressive and persistent.”
“Maker, Mando, that was like one time, and he took off after you punched him.” You will admit there was a scene a few weeks ago in a particularly rowdy cantina where some creep wouldn’t leave you alone, until the Mandalorian hauled off and hit him square in the nose. You had been mortified at the time that he had needed to do it, but you would also swear that Mando had enjoyed punching the guy.
“I didn’t like your dress that night either,” Din lies to you. He did like it but he didn’t like seeing other men like it too.
You roll your eyes at that comment and sigh, “Since when do you care so much about my clothing choices?”
“I care when they might bring you unwanted attention,” he insists, “I do feel a responsibility for your welfare even if you don’t seem to.”
“Well, listen, is there any chance you are going to let me wander around this marketplace alone?” you ask changing tactics.
“Hell no,” he replies swiftly.
“Ok, then, problem solved.”
“What do you mean ‘problem solved’?”
“I mean no one is going to bother me if you are by my side all day,” you explain. He crosses his arms at this, but he doesn’t have a response. “That creep in the cantina only got so bold because I was by myself at the bar while you were negotiating that bounty. I’m sure he wouldn’t have dared try anything if you had been right there.” You decide to take things a bit further in attempt to end this silly argument, “Would you care to make a wager?”
“A wager?” he’s curious now.
“If a man hits on me while you’re by my side, I’ll let you pick out my clothing for a month. However, if no one hits on me, you say nothing about my clothing for two months.”
“One month,” he counters.
“Alright, fine, one month, either way,” you agree. “But, it only counts if you are by my side, if you walk away from me all bets are off.”
“I won’t be walking away from you, and you better not wander off either,” he warns.
“Do we have a deal?” You hold out your hand for him to shake.
“Deal,” he says taking your hand.
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Your little party picks their way through the marketplace with ease stopping by stalls of fresh fruit, vegetables, cheeses, breads, and a delectable selection of pastries that has the child reaching out with both hands from his floating pram. The sneaky rascal had got a particularly large one in his mouth before you even had a chance to make your selection. Thankfully the vendor was entranced by his adorable face and hadn’t been bothered at all by his momentary thievery. This village has been nice and you’re enjoying the day not just due to the lovely weather, but also because of your little competition with the Mandalorian. You’ve noticed men giving you appreciative looks, but you’ve been cozying up to your Mando as much as possible, even going so far as to put your hand in the crook of his arm at times as you walk through the streets. In a few instances you were a little worried you might lose the wager when a particularly enthusiastic vendor was trying to make a sale, but fortunately for you, everyone had stayed polite and focused on helping you make your selections.
Din could see that he was well on his way to losing this wager. Normally, that would irritate him thanks to his competitive nature, but spending time with you like this was worth it. He had the chance to watch your happy face as you strolled through the colorful market and to listen to you cheerfully greet people and negotiate prices to get the best bargains. There was such an easy enthusiasm about you as you took pleasure in something that otherwise would have been mundane. It made him feel more lighthearted too. Yet the best part of this shopping trip was how attentive you were being towards him. Din was thoroughly enjoying the way you checked with him before making final selections of your purchases, the way your hand touched his arm, and the way you kept looking over to him with a smile. You were even letting him place a hand on the small of your back at times as he guided you towards different stalls. He had been right about you drawing attention from other men, but apart from a few appreciative glances, they had stayed away, no doubt because to all outward appearances Din and you looked like a couple.
You’ve been making good progress on your shopping list, and there are just a few more items you want to get before heading back to the Crest. You know you are supposed to be focused on picking up the essentials for the next few weeks, but your eye is drawn to a jeweler’s stall nearby and the pretty pieces he has on display. You let yourself wander over as the Mandalorian follows.
“Good afternoon,” the vendor greets you cheerfully, “please take a look, it’s all my own work, handcrafted right here,” and he gestures to a workshop behind the stall. He has many beautiful items but one necklace in particular catches your eye. It is a pendant shaped like a flower and it looks to be made of some type of silver. The flower has a second shinier metal filigree on top creating a lovely design that is topped off with tiny silver balls that glint in the sunlight.
“Would you like to try it on?” the jeweler asks you.
“Oh, I’d love to,” you reply eagerly. You lift the pendant up and place it around your neck, and then try to clasp it, but with your hair in the way, you can’t seem to get it to latch.
“Allow me,” Din’s fingers replace your own. You lift your hair up for him, and then tell yourself to breathe as his gloves gently brush over your neck. Perhaps it’s your imagination, but it feels as if he lets his hands linger there longer than necessary. When he takes a step back, you whirl around and ask, “How does it look?”
“You look beautiful,” Din replies, more honestly than he planned, your eyes lighting up at his compliment. He watches you turn back around towards a mirror the jeweler has set up to admire the necklace yourself. His eyes are drawn back to the pendant which is now glittering just at the top of your cleavage enticingly. He watches your delighted face in the mirror, enjoying the simple pleasure of wearing something beautiful.
“Your wife has excellent taste,” the jeweler’s words cause Din to turn his head and come back to the rest of the world. “That’s one of my favorite pieces.”
“What it’s made of?” Din asks the jeweler, not bothering to correct him on the word ‘wife’.
“It’s silver with beskar plating,” the jeweler explains, “I’m not surprised she likes it so much,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper and a slightly cheeky glance at the Mandalorian.
“How much?” Din asks.
You haven’t been paying any attention to Din and the jeweler; you’ve been too busy admiring the pretty necklace and imagining what it would be like to wear it to a special night out with your favorite dress. You’re so caught up in your daydreaming that it isn’t until you hear a merry laugh from the jeweler that you realize how long you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks flush thinking that you must look so vain, and you turn to the jeweler and say, “Thank you so much for letting me try this on, but I suppose I better take it off now.”
“There’s no need, lovely lady, your husband has already purchased it for you,” he says with a grin.
You’re stunned both by the jeweler calling the Mandalorian your husband and with delight that he has bought you such a beautiful gift. Before you realize what you’re doing, you throw your arms around Din in a hug and thank him profusely. He is stiff for a second, not sure how to react to your embrace, but then, his arms come up to encircle you and he pulls you in tighter to his chest. He can’t remember the last time anyone hugged him and he has missed it more than he knew. For a moment, Din allows himself to enjoy the intimacy of holding you like this, and he imagines what it would be like to be able to hug you all the time.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Din tells you softly, the term of endearment slipping from his lips before he can stop himself. Your cheeks flush with pleasure at his words and when you pull back away from him your face is shining with the brightest smile he’s ever seen. The bustling marketplace falls away and it’s just the two of you standing in the sunlight with electricity buzzing between you, until the child coos loudly reminding you both of his presence.
“We should, uh, get the rest of the… supplies,” Din says sounding a little flustered. You understand that’s he’s feeling a bit shy right now after that public display of affection. You’re feeling the same way, wondering what all of this could mean. But you know that now is not the time to reflect on those thoughts, and instead you turn back to the child, scooping him up for a quick cuddle so he no longer feels left out. The Mandalorian also reaches out to give the kid’s long ears a stroke and says, “Are you still hungry, buddy? C’mon we’ll get you another snack.”
The rest of your shopping trip passes quickly and you’re back at the Razor Crest shortly thereafter. You are still floating on air after the day you’ve had. You keep sneaking glimpses at your new necklace and smiling to yourself like a besotted school girl. Even the drudgery of unloading and then securing all the supplies in the ship doesn’t put a damper on your spirits. The Mandalorian seems to be sharing in your joyfulness, humming a little as he lifts heavy crates and sneaks a few extra treats to the child. You’re getting ready to depart, when he turns to you and says, “Well, I suppose I should congratulate you on winning our wager.”
“That’s right, I did win,” you say happily almost having forgotten about the whole silly bet, “I knew no one would bother me with you right next to me.”
“Yes, it appears you were right about that,” he says grudgingly, “this time.”
“So that means one whole month with no comments about what I choose to wear,” you remind him.
“This doesn’t mean you should take this as an excuse to wear your most scandalous outfits,” Din tries to tell you.
“Uh-uh, the month starts now, no comments from you, sir,” you reply cheekily to him. You laugh a little to yourself, scandalous outfits, he’s being so dramatic.
“I’m going to get us on our way,” Din concedes his defeat and turns to head to the cockpit, but he can’t help to get in one last word as he tells you, “I’m sure your new necklace will look just as pretty with your more conservative clothes.”
“Maybe,” you reply attempting for a nonchalant tone, but failing spectacularly as your eyes light up at his suggestion.
Din makes his way back up to his pilot’s chair and begins the take-off procedure. He shouldn’t have made that comment about the scandalous outfits, it will just give you ideas filled with your sheerest and most revealing garments. But then, he has an idea of his own. Smirking under his helmet at his own cunning, he punches in the coordinates to the icy world of Hoth and makes the jump to hyperspace.
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Thanks for reading! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for Part 2.
#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x female reader#din djarin x female reader#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din dijarin fanfiction
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Heyo! I was wondering if you could do a scenario during the uprising arc where the reader starts to realize she has feelings for Levi but at first he rejects her? Then during the night before Shiganshina he realizes about her feelings and ends up returning them knowing he doesn't want her to get hurt or die? Some angst fluff please and thank you!
Okay anon you have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this. It's super long and I love how it came to me so naturally. I hope you enjoy
Warnings: a little angst!?
Tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
Promise
It all started at the sight of his wet fingertips grazing the broken rim of a teacup. A flutter, a feisty spark in your heart that seemed to drown it in full might had made its presence known to you in a very particular, unwanted moment. The flicker of a tiny flame danced before your eyes, sat at the frame of the window near the sink where you proceeded to rinse through washed dishes.
Levi's pale, chapped skin pulled on his knuckles leaving an unnatural yellowish white tone behind, indicating his involvement with excessive amounts of cleaning products. And for the first time, the sight really pulled a string in your poor heart in a way that was enough to convince you to break the dense silence in the room.
But maybe, you thought, Levi wouldn't want to talk to you.
With an unforgiving steel gaze he stared at your face, blinking in soft, yet erratical paces as you stopped plumping the water from running. In response your tongue was forced to slip inside your mouth and push any unspoken word back to its source, in the depths of your brain. All of a sudden you felt so afraid to talk, so petrified by the general idea of a three syllabus word that wouldn't ever spare the misery off of anyone.
Rejection
Captain seemed to be on the rejective side nevertheless so nothing regarding your newly discovered feelings would matter to him anyway, so in a way you blamed yourself for getting overwhelmed with this whole situation. A dark cloud of doubt shadowed your mind with the intention of interrogating your heart's intentions; perhaps you were mistaken. How on earth could you have been in love with the short man, you didn't know. There were far too many differences between the two of you, be it in appearance, mannerism or even -and more importantly- experiences. Supposing you had lived through similar occurances in battles outside the walls was enough for anyone to consider the two of you to be very alike, it was at least dishonorable to compare your childhood or teenage years to his.
"Nice hands" Of course you had managed to utter the most embarrassing choice of words to him, your mind could never cooperate with you when it came to such serious situations, something you hated so very much. The obnoxious dryness of your eyes was slowly migrating in the caves under your tongue, you could feel your mouth drying more and more by each passing second, yet you did nothing to prevent it.
Judging by Levi's puzzled expression which included his head slightly tilting forward as if to hear you better you knew he was as awestruck as you were at your own words. "I don't really understand where you're coming from but thank you, I guess." He spoke, the usual monotone tint staining his voice. You whipped your head back to a fixed position -on your hands this time- to stare down at the sink. The awkward glances you would throw at him went seemingly unnoticed and as time passed by you felt your tention overwhelming you, this time, completely.
Levi wasn't dense to any body language thrown at him and you were painfully aware. His cold eyes never spared you not even a half cornered look as he rubbed the little sponge on the soap bar next to him. His fingers danced on the ceramic plate, cleansing it in fast and very effective movements, leaving you staring in awe. Whether he was ignoring you on purpose or not you didn't know and you didn't want to seek an answer as to why but at this rate he would probably be the one to inquire why you were burning holes in his hands with your gaze. Again.
"I'm so sorry I'm fixated on your hands" Your mouth run, ignoring your mind's orders to stay shut "It's just-" Dammit think quick for once "You have nice nail beds."
There it was. The evidence that your words had actual brains and that they formed the most improper sentences on their own, just to torture you and push you deeper into piles of goowey, mushy shit. If Levi was anyone else he would have been laughing his ass of at the stupidness of your speech, you knew you would be laughing too if this wasn't as serious. Just as you were sure you heard a chuckle Levi placed the sponge on the bar of soap carefully and extended his arm, fully displaying his hand.
He seemed to study it like it was the first time he had ever even noticed it. The slick, long fingers, the oval shaped nails, his torn open knuckles. Perhaps you were kidding him for the lack of hair on the base of fingers he used to hold his blades with, those were burnt with years of being worn out by the steel triggers of the blades. He speculated this was common among most soldiers, so it didn't seem like a reason to be kidded for and in addition you never were the person to just spit senseless insults as jokes to your comrades.
"Is there even a point to talk about my hands? They're normal hands to me."
You bit your lip as your eyes widened in shock. Realisation hit you that this was probably more that absurd to Levi as it was to you, seeing you had started to talk about his hands out of nowhere. Your mind, in a state of panic, was in the midst of attempting to process every idiotic sentence you had the audacity to blurb out, but it never seemed to find an answer. Boiling with embarrassed, you wiped the water of your hands to your pants, an act that caught Levi's eye, and went to grab the first wooden chair that was in your path. You needed to sit down, to process whatever this was.
Yet, the only explanation you could find was that there was a raging wildfire in the pits of your stomach everytime your thoughts wandered on Levi. Yes, it was possible that what had started as an admiration, a tiny spec of a crush for the slender featured man had been growing on you since forever, but you had always burried it deep, in any hellhole that should accommodate such emotions as this was war and not the plot of sappy romance novel.
The air was cut down short in the room when Levi sat at a chair beside you, watching you over in such demanding manner that only he could master. He proceeded to light the only candle that stood at the middle of the table, possibly in hopes of flaring a conversation or causing a sane sequence of sentences to finally fall from your tongue. It was still unbeknownst to him what had caused you to trip over words as if you were a learning toddler and he yearned to find out, as a sole friend, not as the stern corporal he presented himself to be.
"(y/n)" His voice was tender as he spoke either much mindful to the teens who were sleeping in the next room or unwilling to let a private conversation between the two of you be heard. "If you think I can help with whatever is going on quit acting like a brat and tell me what's on your mind."
Momentarily, you wondered whether he'd stick to his words in case you spilled your heart's infatuating agony but you felt unable to think of a possible dominating scenario in the chaos of your mind. As self destructive as it sounded, you'd prefer to be the one to break your own heart rather than having to stand back and be a martyr to him tearing it off your chest and tearing it. Knowing Levi, this wasn't anything physically impossible, but you doubt that he could ever be as harsh with you.
"I'm just stressed. I have a lot on my mind."
"Erwin's trial and the future of the scouts, huh? Or is it that Hange works your ass off with those experiments?" You scoffed in denial to all of his inquiries, knowing full well that you could have used them as excuses. Levi's sharp hand began a short trip with sole purpose to land at the top of your head, through your loose locks, in an affectionate manner, a little something you had picked up he would do when he really cared for someone. Everyone knew he wasn't particularly touchy, except for some emotional moments with his closest people; a hand on a shoulder and a pat in the head were mostly what you had witnessed him indulging. His hand ruffling with your hair wasn't profound and new at all, he had done so many times after the two of you would strongly disagree over formations and orders, showing you how much he appreciated your strong wits and your clever ideas. What was new was that the lone touch burned your sculp like hot iron and made your insides twitch.
"I'll make us some tea" the screeching creak of the chair being pushed back shook of your train of thoughts enough to form a reaction to his hand that still rested on your head. Almost as if he didn't want to take it off "We can discuss your problem in a-"
"Sit down" you demanded, voice stern, masked with seriousness that caught him off guard. "Take your hand off my hair, it hurts." You pleaded with your eyes to stay as dry as they were before but you were certainly unsure of whether they'd listen. "Can't you see?"
What was there not to see really. Levi probably knew of your fondness of him way before you managed to realise, as in second thought every move you had ever made in his presence betrayed you. He would have never tried to provoke a confession just to laugh at you, that you were sure of, but he had never made a move in reciprocation either, that alone made you sure of your confessions future's end and caused your gut to spit even more fire to the rest of your insides.
Levi was not perplexed, not even for a single moment, at your words that seeked to stab like daggers, he wouldn't allow himself to be toyed by his own emotions just this once. This is an erratical reaction to his touch, a rejection of his affections towards you and he feared he knew the reason. For someone as bright and emotional as you he never would have thought that you could have hid such tormentous emotions so well inside you, only to end up at this moment of snapping.
As much as he'd like not to be hurt in the slightest by your demeanor he couldn't help but feel a tiny string of his heart being pulled. Suddenly it was evident to him why you couldn't take part in normal conversations around him or why you acted so tense in his presence, why you were so rejective of his touches and he wondered if he should have done anything besides unknownably torture you for so long. Whether his heart wanted to hear a confirmation out of your mouth to it's pained pleading for reciprocation, his mind ignored. The time would never be right and as egoistical as it seemed he couldn't bear to lose someone else that close to him, let alone a significant other. From his experience feelings of love and adoration should never be spoken out loud in this cruel world, amongst soldiers, especially. It wouldn't lead to any good.
When you proceeded to speak the pit in his stomach was already welling in frustration and denial. "Levi we've known each other for years and whatever's forcing me to much on my words should stop."
None can do, this couldn't happen here, now, while being on the run by military police as collective criminal. Levi wouldn't allow you to speak those earth shuttering words, even if wanted for them to chaste kiss his ears and echo through his head. "Not like you haven't figured anyways. I'm so pathetic. To fall for my Capt-"
"Don't you dare utter any other word of that sentence. I won't forgive you if you do." His hand reached out to grab yours by the wrist, tightly, as if he didn't know you couldn't stand the intensity of the grip. The silence that towed over the room was freezing, irrational even; it made you want to puke your intestines right onto Levi's shoes. Your heartbeat was so fast, so unrhythmic that you felt like the vital blood red organ would burst out of your chest in a massive mess.
Τhere was an excessive amount of agony emitting from your eyes, slicing through Levi's chest, searching despairately for a sign he had a heart, just to remind you that it didn't belong to you. Your mind traveled through every possible scenario to find a reason as to why you had to endure this, did his affections belong to someone you didn't know of? Hange? Erwin? Nifa seemed to be close to him lately as well. Was he heartbroken before and swore to never love again? You hated that there was not a tiny little space in his heart for you.
Just as this tense moment began, it came to an end when Sasha burst into the room, shotgun on her shoulder and chestnut eyes as sleepy as they could be. Fatigue was overpowering her whole form and it was as evident as ever before your eyes. With a quick, exhausted salute she announced her self, unsure of if you and the captain could see her face under the shadows of the night.
"It's guard change sir!" She spoke.
"I'm coming sweetheart." You got up from the chair you were sat at, breaking your wrist away from Levi's grip in a harsh manner. You didn't spare him a second look as you took another deep breath and locked it in your chest in hopes of seeming a little more mighty. "Go take some rest. You deserve it."
With increasingly fast steps you storm outside the little cottage trying your best not to look back. You wouldn't bear to check if there was still light coming from the kitchen that should indicate Levi's persistent presence. Your knees trembled at the imagery but you wouldn't let your eyes rest behind you not even for a second. He would probably be drinking his tea, unbothered, thinking of anything but you and you would be lying if you were to day that it didn't hurt you. It hurt so much that it sent you on your ass, on the stone tile pattern under your feet. Your heart forced suffocating waves of pain through your whole body only to push out of your eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. As your sobs grew louder and your heartache became unbearable to the point you though you could feel your heart break in two, you pushed the ends of your palms into your eyes sockets to squeeze the pain and itchiness of the tears away. You promised to yourself this was the first and last time you would cry for him.
____
After that night you barely speak with Levi. Aside from following his orders with the eventual 'yessir' as a reply, you have managed to successfully establish a thick barrier between him end you. Your nights of accompanying him in his late hour tea sessions, or teaching him how to knit and embroider were no more. The times you would share your food with him after you'd hear his stomach growl from the small portion he would get were also no more. You had made sure to claim your small acts of affection back to yourself, how could you move on from him if you were trying to be nice.
You would profoundly ignore his gazes, his calls for you at his office at late hours of the night by random cadets. You wouldn't answer to him if it wasn't for something military related and you intended it to keep it that way until the announcements of the feast that would take place before the attempt of retaking wall Maria.
As you passed by a narrow street heading to anywhere away from the crowd of cadets with your drink in your hand, you bumped lousy into the onyx haired male. It was the first time in days or even weeks that you had spared him a glance but your eyes averted his upon impact. You couldn't stand this. It was suffocating you. The clicking of your ankle boots colliding with the ground might have been heard as you turned on your heels to flee the scene but Levi's stern clearing of the throat overshadowed it.
He wasn't having it anymore.
"Oi, wait! Stop on your tracks, this is an order!" He spoke, eliciting a groan out of you as you turned to face him. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"Captain, I seek to relax before a very hard mission, spare me with your punishments, I beg of you."
His blood boiled with your every word "Cut the damn crap (y/n) and talk to me like normal." It probably sounded more harsh than he intended but he couldn't find himself in a position to turn back time and rephrase those words. The drained look in your eyes tolled him as well. The fact that you were both so tired by this game of cat and mouse was profound and everywhere in the air around you and Levi didn't know if he could take it anymore.
At first he thought that it was for the best. If you both forgot about your feelings or found ways to distract yourselves by this distance then it would be so much easier for him to push through the upcoming events of Shiganshina, but he was surprised to know he was mistaken. Masking his feelings must have seemed easy when it came to grieve and loss; he'd spent hours in his room, with you, letting everything out and occupying himself with trying to improve his handwriting while doing paperwork, but infatuation, love, was different. Instead of fading by each passing day like anger and grief it only ever became stronger, fonder and more agressive, chewing on his insides in despair. He really did hate that he had allowed himself to feel that way but it was way too late by now. There was nothing he could do and the fact that you ignored him after almost squeezing out that much, much wanted confession was only making him feel more hollow and in pain.
But Levi knew how to control himself, he trusted his ability on that.
"What is there to talk about? Let me live my last day in peace." You barked, your eyes starting to dance towards his direction, landing on his chin, then at the curve of his unfairly full bottom lip, on his button upwards nose.
"Look." He paused, unsure of how to put his words into non hurtful sentences. "If you could just tell me why or share a few words with me. We could damn die tomorrow and I'd regret not ever talking you out of this unfair treatment you're giving me."
You wondered if you should open up your heart to him completely, without accepting any interruption from him just to cleanse your coincidence off of this weight. Upon deciding that there was truly nothing holding you back except for a silly fear of another rejection that could die with you tomorrow you opened your mouth to speak any words that came to your mind.
"Levi, I'm in pain. You rejected me. Plain and simple. I've spent so many nights wondering why I am unworthy of your affections but I can't wrap my head around you anymore."
"Is that the way you feel about me? That you're the one who's unworthy of me?"
"You always think so lowly of yourself. Makes me wonder how you trust your own abilities in battlefield. But yes. So I just want to know who is it for you? Who do you feel you're unworthy of?"
He paused for a moment, to regain any shattered piece of his heart you had thrown back to him with your statement. You didn't hate him, be always knew that, but hearing those words fall out of your mouth engulfed the matter into reality unlike before. He was ready to face it. Even if he was unsure of tomorrow he knew that if he was to stay alive while you were dead he would have torn his own brain out as to avoid overthinking this particular moment.
"You want the truth honestly, brat? I happen to think I'm the one unworthy of you. You've taught me how to write and read, you came into my office to check up on an underground scum like me to see if I was asleep. Dammit you even gave me portions of your food to help me withstand the long nights of sleeping in my chair. What have I done for you? Boss you around? Or is it my looks you're after?"
Your eyes widened at his last statement, momentarily preventing the tears that had gathered in the corners from falling. This wasn't a time to misunderstand his words and act foolish, this was the closest out of a confession you would get from the man and you were awestruck, amazed. If he wanted to know a reason you would give him one.
"I'll admit, you might have the face of an angel Levi and maybe that would initial draw anyone to you, including me but I didn't fall in love with you for that." You could tell he was taken aback by the raw nature of your words only by the small whimper that escaped his throat.
"Over the course of this relationship between us you have been there for me when I couldn't be there for myself, you've helped me improve, your hands are stained with blood and so are mine, but you've knitted with me, you've stitched my wounds, you've let me sleep in your bed when I found a giant cockroach in mine, you're so much more than what you paint yourself to be."
He stared at you with ogling, soft eyes. Had he looked at you like that before you were oblivious but there was something in those steel eyes that magnetised your own gaze, something you couldn't let go off. It was calming the knot in your chest with reassurance, bearing promises of the future but he didn't dare speak on them to ruin the moment. His head closed the distance between the two of you in sharp shiftings and now your lips were brushing his in the most suggestive manner possible. It had all happened so fast that you didn't have a chance to react.
"You realised" he whispered, voice soft as the melancholy of the theme of his words captured your breath "that if you happen to die tomorrow, I, myself will hunt you down, resecure you and then proceed to beat the living shit out of you every single day of your shitty life, right?"
He was so beautiful panting with desire under the moonlight and you would never forget. Out of all times this could have taken place it happened now, hours before a deadly expedition. The feeling of regret flooded your form, his as well for not acting upon your feelings sooner and Levi fought an internal battle as to whether he should kiss you or not. He desired to keep that kiss as a reward that you stayed alive for him but on the other hand he feared that this could well be his last chance to taste you for the first time.
"That's a weird way to say I love you" as his lips brushed closer to yours his heart felt like it would explode, he had pained to claim your lips, just once, just to know the taste of a beloved and he was sure he would be more pained to lose you.
As he pleaded that you came to him tomorrow he pressed his lips on yours, sealing the promise he demanded you to make to him. Your heart melted under the soft lights of a thousand stars.
____
As his arms wrapped around you, tears run down his eyes. That was it. You had fought to keep your promise nail and tooth. You had never managed let him down and to see that you were among the tiny amount of survivors lifted his soul to heaven. The touch of your skin, the salty taste of your neck, it all was real, you were indeed alive and safe in his arms. He wouldn't have to go insane over that fact that he would never get to look into your eyes again.
"I will always keep my promises to you." You hitched with tears running down cheeks, the shock in your core still trembling as ever.
"I know" He panted
"Besides, have you seen yourself in action, I wouldn't want you to hunt me down, oh Lord."
I am. In tears. Also I'm sorry (?) for such in depth descriptions of Levi's hands?
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#snk x reader#aot x reader#levi#shingeki no kyojin#levi ackerman#attack on titan#snk#aot#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n#levi ackerman imagine#captain levi#x reader#listen here i am crying#i am not okay#THIS WAS SO CATHARTIC TO WRITE WTF
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cloudbusting; part three.
a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. bar run ins, shameless flirting, and paintings lessons at sunset.
pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexual content words: 12.6k
series masterlist
art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)
a/n: i am very my excited to share this chapter, i hope everyone enjoys ! a big huge thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for helping me out and being the best ily💕💕
“I have two cold brews for here!” Calling out the easy order you just prepared, tight-lipped smile to the couple that picked up the drinks in front of them.
You had barely gotten much sleep the night before.
After your little breakdown, you ended up staying up late watching your favourite feel good TV show. And now you were working a long shift this Tuesday afternoon, annoyed by how busy it was, especially with the two deliveries that were bound to come any second.
Staying on bar to make drinks, not at all having the energy to stay at the register and talk to customer after customer.
Aleena understood more than most. She was happy to take till and let you be grumpy in the back, making drinks.
And it was the same thing the following day, except that you were working with Erinne and she was making you far too frustrated. She insisted on taking bar, and you had to run around her doing everything she was neglecting.
It was by the third day that week, that you finally got over your self-pity. Heading over to Mae’s and having a nice movie night with her.
As you often did after moments of indulgent crying, you recovered a few days later. A part of you knew that maybe in a few weeks or in a few months it would happen again, but that would be a problem for later.
But the week really turned around that Sunday night. After a week that lasted far too long, it ended with you sitting in a corner booth of a neighbouring bar with a wide grin spread across your face.
The weather was so lovely and the city so busy that the day had been nonstop. Working a long and tiring day, Aleena, Saya and you had all been eager to get a quick drink after locking up the shop.
The three of you always flowed well together, the two slightly older women being a blast to work with. A big reason why you always sneakily tried to scheduled the group together on weekends.
Now all seated with drinks in front of you, you were crushing the ice of your gin and tonic under your teeth that helped cool you down.
On top of a busy day it was so plainly hot out, and the heavy jeans you were wearing weren’t helping. You were happy to be sporting a short tank top, item that was previously under a light cardigan for the purpose of work.
Cardigan now in your purse, navy blue top being the only thing over your chest.
“Wait,” Aleena giggled, sipping on her mojito. “Did you hear what that guest said today?”
Chatting as you often did, sharing stories from shifts and odd complaints that you’d had from customers. “Which one?”
“Big group, the tall man with um,” Aleena paused, trying to remember. “Iced latte, no ice?”
You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous order, knowing very well how this story was going to end. “Said it was too warm – but no ice! He wanted a cold drink but we have to put a hot espresso shot in it. He got mad when I tried to explain it to him.”
“When was this?” You furrowed your brow, usually aware of whatever ridiculous reason a customer got mad.
“I think you were on your break,” Aleena thought it over.
Saya nodded along, agreeing with what Aleena said. “Yeah you were in the back – but it was so ridiculous! Wanted a refund and everything, but never ended up taking it? Even when we offered to make him a new one, he refused? I can’t deal with that.”
You watched as the two of them got annoyed over the situation all over again, completely reasonable in their frustration. “And it was busy too, he was holding up the line.”
It was just then that you caught sight of a familiar mess of dark brown curly hair, sitting on the opposite side of the bar from you. You squinted your eyes slightly, not sure if it was who you thought it was.
But then he turned his head the slightest bit, and you could make out the outline of his sharp features. The line of his cheekbones and then the dimple of his cheeks, lips spread as he smiled.
Quickly averting your eyes away from him, nearly hating the way you felt your body heat up at the sight of Harry.
Focusing your attention back to your friends, taking a big gulp of your drink. Still, you were unable to help the way your eyes trailed over to him every once and a while. He was with a few other people, you couldn’t see how many. Seated around a table in the far left corner, almost directly across from you.
You had no idea if he had seen you or not. But when you walked over to get another round for your group, you got very conscious about how you stood even closer to him.
As you got drinks for your colleagues, your phone starting vibrating in your back pocket. Mae’s name was flashing across the screen, missing the first call when you brought Aleena and Saya their drinks, but with a second call coming that had you scurrying out the heavy door to answer the call.
“Hey,” quickly speaking once you were tucked away in a corner outside the bar. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Mae’s laugh through the speaker calmed you down. “Yeah, sorry. I locked myself out of my apartment –”
She cut herself off. You were leaning back against the bricked wall, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
The loud chattering of a group walking past you overwhelmed your ears, and you were sure that Mae could hear them through the speaker.
“Are you out?”
“I’m just getting a drink – are you okay?”
“I locked myself out, really stupidly too. I was going to ask if you still had one of my spare keys but don’t worry! You’re out.”
“No Mae if you need me to –”
She cut you off. “Robin’s coming over, they have a spare key too. Don’t worry!”
You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s such a nice night out, and Robin’ll be here soon. Have fun tonight!”
When she was reassuring you, your eyes flitted over to where a new person joined you outside. There were two groups of people standing together, sharing cigarettes and biding their goodbyes to each other. But as you glanced up at the new figure, your paused when Harry shot you a small smile.
Narrowing your eyes on him slightly, still on the phone with your friend. “Okay, well let me know when you get in. And really if you need me, I can be over with your key.”
Mae agreed that she would, and you were soon hanging up the call to glance back up at Harry who was lingering by you.
“Hi,” you finally spoke, feel heat rush to your face. You felt a bit sweaty, almost clammy in the warm summer night.
“Hi,” he breathed out, mirroring your words. He didn’t move from where he stood, watching as you walked over to stand next to him. “Thought I saw you earlier.”
“Yeah I’m with some people from work,” jutting your thumb out to point over you shoulder in the general direction of the door.
He nodded, glancing to where you pointed as if he could see through the wooden door. “Long day?”
“Very,” you sighed. “People are crazy.”
There was a slight pause, Harry shuffling on his feet while you stood straight, one hand tucked into your back pocket where you had just placed your phone.
“Were you heading home?” Asking after another few seconds, finding the silence heavy but neither of you moving away.
“No actually, not quite yet. I saw you head out – in fact I thought you were leaving. Just wanted to say hi,” he stumbled over his words slightly, eyes gleaming down on you in the dimly lit street.
“Just a phone call,” you broke out a small grin.
“Saw that,” he mirrored your expression, now that you were smiling at him. “I wanted to talk to you – I don’t know if I upset you or fucked up when I stayed past closing last time but I really didn’t mean –”
He cut himself off, and you couldn’t help but feel your smile grow at his words, watching his expression twist to confusion at your reaction.
“It’s really okay,” you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat. “I’m not – never was – upset with you. Was just a bit of an off day, or couple days.”
Harry’s shoulder dropped, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Okay, I wasn’t sure if maybe you felt – well anyway. Sorry I haven’t been in to the café either, I was – well I was worried you were upset with me.”
Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, feeling blood rush to your neck when he apologized for not coming into your work all week.
“But, are you alright?”
You nodded, your little breakdown the previous week nearly laughable to you now. It might have been because of the drinks you had already had, but you found yourself especially now in a particularly good mood.
It wasn’t that you felt better about your situation by any means, it was more so that you had risen above your wallowing enough to be happy with what you were doing. Plus, it was healthy to have a nice big cry once and a while.
“Yeah, god it’s kind of silly. Just had a bit of a panic. You know how it is; was just too in my own head.”.
Harry’s smile was still wide on his lips but little furrow on his brow as he probably didn’t understand your ramble much less than you did. “Well,” he bit his lips together. “Hope your feeling better.”
You nodded, returning his smile as a small silence settled over the two of you. You were still tucked away in the corner, off the main part of the sidewalk with Harry a good arms length away.
Attention pulled away at the shriek of a laugh coming from a woman who was sharing a cigarette with a man nearby, Harry’s voice soon interrupting your brief distraction. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Gaze meeting Harry’s once again, not hesitating before answering. “Yes you can.”
Leading the way back to door of the bar, Harry holding it open as he walked in behind you. Your eyes drifted briefly to where Aleena and Saya were still siting, seeing them deep in conversation.
The bar currently wasn’t too full, some people seeming to have filtered out. Harry leaned forward, an elbow against the counter, looking back at you. “What did you want to get?”
“You choose,” you replied, seating yourself on an empty stool near where he stood. His mouth dropped as if to speak, but he quickly shut it with a curt nod and turned back towards the counter. He settled himself onto the stool next to you, knee bumping yours as his legs spread.
Getting the attention of one of the bartenders, telling them your drink orders. “Two whiskey sours, please,” he cast you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, before his attention turned back to the bartender who told him his total.
Reaching for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and tapping his card on the terminal while the bartender prepared your drinks. “Did I choose well?”
“I don’t know,” you hummed. “I’ve never tried a whiskey sour.”
You leant your body closer to his, turning in your seat so that you were facing him. “It’s a bit bitter – if you like espresso I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Espresso is not supposed to be bitter,” you spoke without missing a beat. “Supposed to be balanced, and all that.”
“Yours is bitter sometimes.”
Your mouth dropped open. “It is not!”
“Sometimes,” he stressed, gleam in his eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’re still my favourite barista.”
“Good,” you muttered, small smile on the corner of your lips as his words rang through your head. The bartender placed two drinks in front of you, both quickly thanking them.
“Cheers,” tapping the tip of your glass with his. You both lifted the rims of you glasses to your mouths, Harry holding it there for a second as he watched you take a sip. The dark bitter liquor easily slid down your throat, and you kept your lips together as if that would hold in the taste.
He followed after you took your first sip, tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips before biting them down together. “So,” he spoke after a moment of watching you. “Did I choose well?”
“I think so,” you hummed after a second, going in for another sip.
Harry held onto his cup, busying his hands. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous with you all the sudden, as if he’d never been able to hold a conversation before. He was cautiously aware of the way his knee kept jutting out and hit yours, and the way that your hand brushed over his arm when you dropped your glass back on the counter.
“Did you need to head back to your table or …?”
He watched you turn your head, chin above your shoulder as you glanced behind your back. He followed your gaze, eyes focusing in the dim light to the table he had seen you at before. The two other baristas who you worked with were laughing.
“Don’t need to, no,” you hummed, facing forward again. “Think I’m good right here.”
His chest warmed at your voice. “What about you?” His eyes met yours when you spoke again. “You need to head back?”
Harry glanced back to the table he had been at, now filled with a new group of people. “My friends left already.”
You simply nodded once, taking another sip of your drink. Harry was worried about the silence in conversation, unsure of why he couldn’t think of anything to say to you –
“How’s your art going?”
Your words eased his nerves the slightest bit, blinking before he looked away from the glass in his hands and at you next to him. “Good –” he cleared his throat. “Good, yeah. Finally started working on something new.’’
“What is it?”
“It’s,” he brought his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s still in the works – I’m not too sure how its all going to turn out yet.”
You took another sip of your drink. “Is it what you’ve been working on when you come into the coffee shop?”
“Knew you’ve been spying over my shoulder,” he chuckled. “But yes. Like I told you last time – I like getting inspired by the space and all that.”
You weren’t sure if he was going to say more, watching as he brought his glass to his lips. “What about you? Ever do much painting, or anything of the sorts?”
“God no,” shaking your head, leaning your elbow against the bar. “I think last time I tried anything like that was years ago. I’m no good.”
He smiled, knee bumping yours. “Don’t have to be good to paint – it’s nice to just have fun with it.”
“That’s true,” you hummed. “Guess I never really thought about it; I clearly haven’t done it nearly enough.”
He glanced down for a beat. “If you want –we could paint together sometime.”
“Yeah?” You felt your chest heat up at his words. “That could be nice.”
His eyes settled on yours again, smile widening. “Glad to hear it.”
Swirling the liquid in your glass, before tipping your head back and taking a big sip. The affects of the liquor with the few drinks from before were slowly catching up to you – you weren’t drunk by any means but one might say you were starting to feel tipsy.
“I have a confession,” licking the liquor from your lips as you placed the glass back on the counter.
Harry leant forward on his elbow a bit, eyebrows rising slightly in curiosity. “Tell me.”
The corner of your lip grew as you felt yourself warm under his gaze. “I might have … already seen some of your work.”
“What?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly. His cheeks were rosy, and eyelids slightly heavy in a way that made you think he was probably a bit tipsy as well. “Where?”
“I – I happened to find your Instagram.”
His eyebrows rose even further, beaming smile on his lips. “You happened to find it? How exactly?”
“Not important,” you hummed, leaning your head on your hand as you tilted away from him.
“Okay,” he drew out the word. “And what did you think of what you found?”
Meeting his gaze again, turning in your seat so that your body was angled towards his again. “I liked it.” Answering simply.
“You liked it?”
You nodded, searching for the right words. “I don’t know a lot about art and all that. But I did like it, a lot. So colourful and just – well just nice.”
Mentally cringing to yourself at how poorly you had explained yourself. There was a smile on his lips as he listened to you, only glancing away to sip his drink.
“Thank you, really. Hope you’re not just saying that,” he teased.
“If I had hated it would’ve told you,” you deadpanned, smile in your eyes.
Harry laughed, head tilting back a bit. “Glad to hear it.”
Laughing lightly along with him, feeling the heat in your cheeks from the alcohol. “What about you?” Harry asked after a moment. “How’s the coffee game?”
“Oh,” you swung your foot from your stool. “Coffee game hasn’t changed.”
“You said you’d been working there for two years?”
You were surprised he remembered. “About two years there, yeah. But I’ve worked in a few other coffee shops as well, basically through most of university and since then as well. Ever since moving here I guess.”
“What did you study in college?”
“Poli sci,” you paused. “Not getting much use now.”
“That’s okay,” Harry shrugged. “No learning is really a waste, right?”
“Right,” nodding, realizing you were nearly done with your drink and not wanting to talk about college. “Can I ask you something?”
“Course,” he watched you.
“Who’s your favourite artist?”
Harry beamed. He didn’t answer right away, swirling his glass in his hand. “So I don’t have a single answer for you, tough to pick just one.”
You nodded, waiting for him to keep speaking.
“I really like the colours and the shapes of like, late impressionism. Like Matisse. But I also really like the theory, I guess, of mid 20th century artists. Identity of the self, ones around you – oh! Also Hopper – makes me a bit sad but in a good way, you know?”
You listened along, not having a clear mental image of everything he was talking about but liking to see how he talked about it. “I also really like Georgia O’Keeffe.”
That name you knew. “She did all those flower-vagina paintings, right?”
Harry chuckled; eyes cast down for a second. You were sure it must have been in the dim light of the bar, but you thought you saw the tips of his ears redden. “I mean, yes.”
“Again, I just really like the way she’s able to create her composition, the way everything is so layered and blended. Just – really nice form I guess.”
He fell quiet for another moment, and you weren’t sure if he was done speaking. “Sorry that didn’t make much sense; seem to not be able to explain myself very well right now.”
“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head, finishing off what was left of your drink. “I like hearing about it, I wish I knew more about art.”
“Never too late to learn,” he grinned. “Plus, you seem to run a pretty tight ship with those paintings that rotate throughout your shop.”
Unable to help the laugh that bubbled from your throat, head tilting back and eyes gently shutting.
“I told you,” jutting one of your legs out to lightly swat at his chin with your foot. Your leg lingered next to his, leaving your foot on the rest of his own stool instead of bringing it back to your own. Harry watched as you scooted forward on your stool slightly, elbow on the bar shifting as you as you edged closer to him. “I have nothing to do with that.”
He mirrored your laugh, eyes briefly glancing down to where your leg rested next to his, before back up at you. “I never heard from them, by the way.”
“I’m sorry,” you paused. “Maybe try again in a few weeks?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, though he didn’t appear that torn up about it. “Did you want another?”
Your gaze fell down to where his ring covered finger was pointing at your now empty glass. You quickly thought it over, knowing that one more drink would be fine as you weren’t feeling the liquor too too much. “Are you having another one?”
“I could,” Harry grinned, empty glass in front of him as well.
You slowly nodded. “Okay – let me get this one though.”
Harry shook his head. “It’s no worries, really. You can get it next time.”
You bit your lips together at the suggestion, unable to help the small curve in your lips. “Okay,” slowly speaking with a nod to your head. “Next time you come into the coffee shop I promise its on the house.”
Your feet fell flat on the floor of the bar, standing up. “I’m just going to head to the restroom,” you hummed, taking a step forward and letting your hand fall onto Harry’s shoulder for a light moment. “You can choose again.”
Harry’s eyes were stuck on you as you sauntered off, hands sliding in your back pockets with your elbows jutting out, the same way you did when you walked around the café.
You checked your appearance in the dimly light washroom, using toilet paper to blot at your sweaty skin. The bar was hot and humid, and you felt particularly oily after a long shift.
After leaving the restroom, you walked up to where Aleena and Saya still sat, small wave in their direction.
“What happened to you?” Aleena laughed, knowing very well she had seen you at the bar.
“Ran into someone,” you replied, shooting a quick glance to where Harry sat.
“Isn’t he a regular?” Saya followed your gaze, before turning to you with a little smirk. “Espresso over ice, right?”
You didn’t say anything, sure your expression gave it all away. “Sorry to have left you guys,” you said instead, feeling a bit guilty but knowing very well they didn’t mind too much.
“No, no it’s okay,” Aleena was sliding out of her chair, rising to her feet. “We were about to leave soon. You stay, have fun.”
You grabbed your purse that was still sitting with them, happy to have remembered that you had left it there.
“You’re both off tomorrow, yeah?” You already knew the answer, always good at remembering who was working when, especially since you made the schedule.
They both confirmed what you already knew, grabbing their things as they walked with you away from their table and towards the exit.
“I’ll see the two of you in a few days then! Have a good time off.”
After biding goodnight to your colleagues, walking over with purse in hand to go join Harry once more. “Sorry about that,” you hummed, sliding back into your seat next to him. “Just saying goodbye to my friends.”
“No worries at all,” his eyes fell to yours once you were seated. You didn’t miss how his stool seemed to be much closer to yours this time, legs resting inches apart.
“Got you a long island – figured you’d like it since I see you drinking so much iced tea.”
Again a bit impressed that he remembered, you were very much appreciating a long island ice tea. Taking a big gulp, letting the slightly sweet liquid easily slide down your throat.
Conversation fell easily between the pair of you, inching closer to each other all over again. Talking to Harry was so easy – and every time he sent you that dimpled grin you felt your head spin.
Your skin was sticky from the hot night, and you found yourself wishing you could be wearing a dress or shorts or anything but the thick jeans you had on from work. Also, as Harry’s knee bumped yours for the thousandth time under the bar, this time resting against yours instead of moving back, you found yourself wishing there were less layers between your skin.
You soon found yourself with a glass half empty, leaning forward with your head resting on your hand and elbow just against Harry’s arm on the bar.
“Hope I haven’t been keeping you,” Harry murmured, gaze heavy on yours.
“Haven’t,” shaking your head. You had no idea what time it was but the fact that the bar had significantly emptied clued you in enough. “Though I do think I should be heading home soon.”
His hand fell to his lap, sliding it over his leg and closer to where yours rested against it. “Let me walk you.” He squeezed your knee.
You cast your eyes down, quick glance to where his hand rested on your leg. “That would be nice.”
His touch lingered on you before pulling away. You saw his eyes fall over your face when you stood from the stool and reached for your bag that hung hooked under the bar. Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, quickly checking the time. It was nearing one in the morning – you were surprised by how much time had gone by.
You felt woozy – your lips bit between your teeth and hair sticking to your skin. Harry had gotten much closer to you through the night, and you him, and all you could think about right now would be what it would feel like to finally have him properly hold you.
Harry stood to his feet next to you, hand reaching out towards you as if to rest on your back, but seemed to decide against it. Still, he hovered close behind you as you headed out toward the door.
Swinging your bag over your shoulder, walking through the thick wooden door into the cooler night air. Harry quickly joined your side, lazy grin on his lips. “Are you cold?”
“No,” shaking your head, you watched as he neared you and stopped when he stood by your side.
“You’ve got goosebumps,” Harry’s voice had dropped, as he brought a hand to trail up your arm, letting it rest lightly on your shoulder. His hand was warm and heavy on your skin – if you didn’t have goosebumps before you were sure to now.
“Oh,” it was all you could manage to say.
You were unmoving on the mostly empty sidewalk, a bit tucked away in the corner by the same place you took your call earlier that night. His hand slid on your skin, feet moving on the pavement so that he stood closer to you – close enough that you could smell the liquor on his lips and something else, maybe it was his cologne or his detergent or just something that was making your head spin.
“Did I tell you how good you look tonight?” He murmured, like honey in your ear.
All you could manage was a small shake of your head.
“You look so good tonight,” his voice somehow even lower, breath hitting your skin. His hand slid across your shoulder, resting at the crook of your neck with his thumb brushing over the skin under your jaw.
Every one of your nerves was on fire – your senses overwhelmed with the man in front of you.
“I’m wearing my work clothes,” your eyes narrowed on his slightly, feeling his other hand grip at where your jeans ended and a small sliver of exposed skin rested. His fingers hooked through one of your belt loops, tugging you gently against him.
“You look good at work too,” he breathed.
You saw him unashamedly staring at your lips, eyes cast down as his fingers gave your hip a small squeeze.
And then your back was arching in his grip, hand sliding to grab at the neckline of his shirt. A quiet short gasp was sound from your parted lips when your mouths finally met.
Harry’s lips were soft and firm, drawing you in closer as they slotted on yours. Hand wrapping around the back of your neck, the thumb under your jaw was pushing your head to tilt towards his. His other hand was toying with the flap of the pocket on your jeans, tugging on the material as his legs bumped with yours.
His lips nudging yours, mouth parting slightly. Your free hand mirrored the other, gripping onto his shoulder to wrap him closer to you. He pulled you in deeper, tongue brushing yours. He tasted slightly bitter like the liquor you had drank, and like bittersweet chocolate – he tasted like a perfect balance.
Feeling your stomach flutter when Harry let out a shaky breath against you, pulling away for a brief second with a small bite to your bottom lip. Peeking your eyes open, seeing his darkened eyes opened as well. His pupils were slightly blown, cheeks reddened and lips kissed raspberry red.
Your name was a whisper on his lips, before he was pulling you in for more. His hand left your hip for a brief moment, walking you backwards until his hand met the wall and he pressed you against it. Your mouths were greedy, wet and hot.
You passed a little whine from your mouth to his, his chest covering yours as his hand slid around the exposed skin at your midriff. He had your body pinned with his, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting into the wall with the way he felt against you.
“I think –” you mumbled after a moment of heavy breaths. “I should head home.”
Harry pressed another kiss to your mouth, lips smacking together. “Yeah – okay,” he pulled only his head away, dipping down for a second with his forehead against your cheek. “I’ll walk you.”
He pulled away, slowly, from you. Hand sliding down your arm until his finger tips toyed with yours, tugging you away from the wall with him.
When you started the walk, it oddly felt like something so natural. Like you did this all the time, side by side. His arm kept brushing yours as he kept close to you, hand dancing with yours but never quite grabbing it.
The bar was both close to your work and your place. An easy fifteen minutes before you were slowing down in front of the steps that led to the door of your apartment.
Pointing up at the building, stopping in the street and turning to Harry. “I’m just up here.”
He finally grabbed your hand. Pulling you in close to him, heavy eyelids trained on you. “Happy I ran into you tonight,” he hummed, bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re not working tomorrow, are you?”
You nodded. “I open tomorrow.”
“Open?” His eyes widened, voice rising. “Fuck I’m sorry –”
“Not your fault,” you laughed, cutting him off. “I wanted to stay.”
He was quiet for a second. “Don’t you have to be up in like, five hours?”
“Something like that,” you pressed your hand to his chest, just as you had when you kissed him. “So I’m going to head up.”
Leaning forward, bypassing his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you.”
You didn’t get much sleep, but this time it was okay. You weren’t in a bad mood, and your opening shift went off without a hitch.
Happy when Dani shuffled in, your first customer of the day. You handed him his crossword puzzle and hopped on making his drink, hands working on autopilot.
“Late night?” Dani asked, when you brought him his coffee with a stifled yawn.
“Something like that,” you hummed, placing his drink on the table in front of him, and taking a moment to sit across from Dani and sip on your own.
Another early morning face you saw that Monday, a surprise to you considering it was just past seven, was Harry.
He had his squared sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, hair tousled as if he had woken up and let if fall wherever it pleased; a look you found yourself very much enjoying.
He had on small black running shorts and a grey shirt, an outfit you could only describe as athleisure. It was for sure an outfit that you had never seen on him, one you didn’t even imagine possible, but one you quickly grew a liking to.
He walked over to the counter, eyes flitting over to where you were sitting with Dani.
“Someone’s trying to take your attention away from me,” Dani laughed, head nodding Harry, seeing him patiently waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.
“The nerve,” you joked, knowing very well that Harry could hear you in the almost empty café.
Slowly rising back up to your feet, making the short distance across the floor until you were facing Harry form the other side of the counter.
Giving him a wide smile, tilting your head to the side. “You’re here early.”
“Going for a run,” he motioned to his outfit. “Needed a little coffee first, I didn’t get much sleep last night to be completely honest.”
You bit your lips together. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I would’ve brought you a coffee but …” he trailed off, motioning to the espresso machine that sat on the opposite side of the counter. “That didn’t make much sense.”
You laughed lightly, eyeing your mug that was still sitting on the table in front of Dani.
Harry continued. “I also seem to remember you saying something about a coffee on the house?”
Your eyebrows rose. “Oh, so is that the only reason you came in?”
“Helps, doesn’t it?”
“Well if that’s the case,” you laughed, waving to the machine that sat a few feet away. “What can I get for you?”
“You choose for me.” He grinned, repeating your words from the night before at the bar.
Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, you weighed your options. You scooped some ice into a to go cup, before pouring in some cold brew that you had brewing previous day.
“This is one of my favourite roasts,” you hummed, sliding the cup over to him.
Harry grabbed the cup form the counter, piercing a blue paper straw through the lid. “I trust your judgment,” he nodded, lips circling around the straw with his eyes on yours. You watched as he swallowed the chilled liquid, toothy grin on his lips. “Fruity.”
“Very fruity.” You confirmed.
Harry was quiet for a moment, before speaking up again. “I should get running,” Harry took another sip of his cold brew. “But I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Is that a threat?” You joked after his emphasis on the words.
“It’s a promise.” You didn’t know if it was imagined because he was turning away, but you were sure you saw him shoot you a cheesy little wink.
He waved bye to you, waving to Dani as well who seemed confused by the action but still returned the goodbye.
And true to his words, Harry was back two days later.
It was Wednesday afternoon, and he came in wearing brown trousers and a white shirt that had the word ‘sex’ on it. It was odd, and you briefly wondered what possessed him to buy the shirt, but you didn’t question it.
He waved hello to Aleena who was training a new staff member and walked up to where you stood by the furthest counter near the back door, currently slicing up a loaf of banana bread. “Hey!”
“Hi,” he stood opposite side of the counter as you, watching you place your knife down and grab plastic wrap to secure the sliced pieces.
“What brings you in today?” You asked, as if there wasn’t an obvious answer.
“Many reasons, actually.” He raised an eyebrow. “Main one being I wanted to ask you something.”
Your smile grew. “And what is that?”
“Well I remember you saying something about wanting to try out painting with me sometime.”
“I think I did say something like that. Why?” You teased, leaning forward on the counter in front of you with your arms crossed over your chest.
His hands were fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Well –” he cleared his throat, “do you think that sometime could be soon?”
“Yeah? Like when?”
“Are you closing today?”
“Nope, actually I’m off at six,” you glanced at the clock. “A bit of a different shift since we’re training,” nodding your head back to the new staff member that was watching Aleena steam milk. “Good for me, since I don’t need to close.”
“And…” he paused. “Are you doing anything afterwards?”
You mulled it over, already knowing your answer but wanting to leave him hanging the slightest bit.
“I am not,” you finally spoke, smiling lightly. “I think I can make it work.”
Harry smile widened, tapping his hands on the counter. “Music to my ears.”
He glanced at the clock behind him, seeing there was about half an hour or so until you were free from work. “Did you need to go home first? I was thinking we could walk right over to my place when you’re off.”
“Maybe,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. “To change? My clothes are a bit covered in grounds.”
Wiping your hand over your front, flicking off the stray coffee grounds that always ended up on your clothes, today’s victim being a loose denim dress that hit the spot below your knees.
Following as Harry’s eyes fell over your outfit, lingering on your body for a slight moment. You couldn’t help but warm slightly under his gaze.
“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” he shrugged. “But for the record, I think you look great.”
“Thank you,” you murmured. “Think I should be good, though, to head over. Did you want a drink, while you wait?”
He nodded, dimples never disappearing from his cheeks as he didn’t cease smiling. “Maybe an iced tea?”
You saw him reach for his wallet, and you shook your head. “On the house, remember?”
Making him an iced tea with no sweetener since you didn’t take him as the type to want any, handing him the glass with a green paper straw. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
The next thirty minutes went by fairly quickly, showing the new hire, Andy, the first steps of a closing shift. It was at two minutes until six o’clock, when you headed to the washroom in the back.
Hand over your hair to fix it up, and swiping the skin under your eyes to wipe off the mascara that was a bit smudged.
Glancing down at your jean overall dress, the thin straps dipping a bit low. Other than that little detail, you didn’t think that the loose fabric that hit below your knees was that attractive. It was comfortable, to say the least, but it wouldn’t be something you wore on a date – or what you assumed might be a date.
But Harry’s words from before floated across your mind, and you told yourself that it was fine that you didn’t look the best you possibly could. You were just nervous.
Harry noticed you walking out form the back right away, standing to his feet to join you. You yelled a bye to Aleena, no missing the way she waggled her eyebrows at you and Harry.
He didn’t live that far away from the coffee shop – something that was no surprise to you. The walk was just over twenty minutes and a few stories up in the older looking apartment building.
He held the door open for you, as you took in his place. You always loved seeing people’s places, especially those of people closest to you. You may or may not have been caught snooping a few times in cabinets, something that you wished you had some shame in but really you were just a bit nosy.
He had wide windows on one side, something that you thought was supremely ideal and incredibly stunning, you believed that when the sunsets occurred the whole room must shine a hue of orange. Near the window were stacks and stacks of canvases, leaning against the wall, with an easel standing on the ground amongst smaller nearly blank canvases resting on it.
There was a little table with a jar that had brushes, two sketchbooks, and a canvas bag. He had a box that appeared to be filled with tubes of paint, and a table lined with item after item where you couldn’t even begin to think about what their purpose could be.
Underneath a corner in his studio, was brown paper spread over the floor, no doubt to protect it from all the splatter.
“This is a nice place,” you finally spoke after a moment of kicking off your shoes and peering around the space.
“Yeah, I really lucked out,” Harry placed his bag on the chair by the door. “Do you want me to show you around or…?”
You pointed to where the paintings were stacked, already catching a glance at some. “I want to see those.”
He chuckled, walking over as you followed. He began flipping through them, once and a while stopping to pull one out. They were all around the same size, quite big, and about the size of an average coffee table.
“These are my favourites,” he watched you as your eyes rested on the paintings that were now fully facing you, propped up against the wall.
You had to agree with him, although you hadn’t seen all of them. They looked even better in person, leaving you a bit lost for words as you felt a bit dumbfounded. They all had big patches of colours, something you recognized from when you took a peek at his Instagram.
Your favourite one had what appeared to be two people in it, both standing on opposite sides of the street. The buildings in the back were painted mixes of blue and green, the sky dark behind them. The people themselves had little detail, faces hidden with the most focus on their clothes.
Realizing you had been quiet for a moment, you turned to Harry, who was steadily watching you. “They are much better in person,” was all you could find yourself saying. “I – I really like them.”
Harry had a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he hummed, nodding appreciatively.
“Is that what you’re working on now?” Pointing behind him, to where he had what seemed to be yet another black sketchbook out on the floor with a few almost blank canvas around it.
“Yeah,” Harry hesitated, not moving. “But too much of a work in progress – not ready to be seen by anyone yet.”
“Of course,” nodding, as a quick movement near the ground caught your eye. Realizing the sight before you, mouth dropping open a bit.
“And who is this,” your voice rose an octave, dropping down to rest your elbows against your knees.
A small calico was padding across the floor, deep brown eyes focused on you as it tentatively made its way towards your extended hand. The cat nudged your hand with its nose, before taking a few steps closer to you and letting you scratch the top of its head. “Aren’t you the cutest.”
“She’s very needy,” Harry stood next to you, watching as you got acquainted with his housemate.
She moved closer to you, butting her head against your shin. She had very quickly gotten familiar with you, eyes shutting with small purrs coming from deep in her throat as your nails scratched over her neck.
Turning your attention to Harry for only a second, glancing up at him from where you were kneeling. “What’s her name?”
He grinned down at you. “Cherry.”
“Cherry,” you cooed, full attention back on the calico by your feet. “Oh, you’re so full of love.” Speaking to the cat, letting her rub her head onto your arm.
Realizing after a moment that you were getting far too distracted by the cat, giving her one last ear rub before standing to your feet. “Sorry,” you smiled. “I think I love her.”
“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled, bending down himself as she was finally saying hello to him. “She loves a cuddle.”
He easily scooped her up, bringing her up until she was held against his chest. His hand easily covered her, fingers moving through her fur.
There was something about seeing Harry’s wide chest with a little cat against it. Something you had never thought would make him that much more attractive. It was just the juxtaposition, his hands grabbing her entire frame, making her appear much smaller and him that much broader.
“What?” Harry’s laugh cut through your thoughts, making you realize you had been quiet for a moment too long.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, taking a step forward and brought your hand up to the little cat’s head. “She’s just too cute,” scratching your fingertips along her head once again, nails scratching over Harry's shirt-covered chest every so often.
When Cherry started to squirm in his grasp, he lowered himself slightly, letting her jump from his arms and skillfully onto the ground.
“Did you want anything to drink, or eat?”
Shaking your head, thinking about the coffee after coffee that you pounded back at work, and the bits and pieces of baked goods that you snuck for yourself. “I’m good, thank you though.”
“Want to get to some painting, then?”
Smiling over at him, not missing the way that the little calico was still demanding your attention by your legs. “I would love to.”
Harry shuffled some things around, seeming to pull out a second smaller easel from a closet to the corner, fumbling around with the clasps and settings on it until it was resting upwards, closer to the ground. You watched, not really knowing what to do, as he did the same with the other easel, moving it on the ground as they sat next to each other.
“Thought we could sit on the floor –” he turned back to face you, loose curls falling over his forehead. “If you want to stand that’s okay too.”
“Floor’s good,” you grinned, taking a step over to where he was setting everything up. He was digging through a box on the table, pulling out some paint tubes and brushes.
“Thinking we could use acrylic,” he talked, and you weren’t too sure what he meant so you simply nodded. “I usually do oil but it’s a bit tougher to handle, especially if you’ve never used it before.”
“Okay,” the word sounded so small in answer, you wished you had more to add but in all honesty you never thought much about the different types of paints.
“For you,” Harry stood again after laying out a series of tubes on the floor next to the easels, motioning to the spot. “Let me know if you want a pillow or something, or if the ground is uncomfortable.”
“Should be okay,” you stepped over onto the brown paper covering the floor, noticing specks of dried paint already splattered over it. You adjusted the hem of your dress when you sat down, small bend in your knees and your feet flat on the ground.
Harry left for a second, rusting in the closet to the side once more before he came back with two smaller canvases. “Primed and everything,” he placed one in front of you, and for him as he settled down on the floor next to you.
“Thank you,” smiling over at him, not touching anything he put out and keeping your hands clasped together.
He seemed to notice your hesitation, handing you a small flat brush. “Use whichever colours you want,” he spoke slowly, motioning to the tubes next to you. “A palette out for you and water is in this jar.”
Nodding again, flipping the brush between your index and middle finger on instinct. “What should I paint?”
Harry laughed. “Absolutely anything you want,” he opened a tube of yellow, squirting some out on his own palette in his hand. “Whatever comes to mind.”
“What are you going to paint?”
You saw his bottom lip jut out slightly, thinking back to when he had kissed you a couple nights ago and how that lip was between your teeth. “No fun in telling you right away, you’re just going to have to wait and see.”
Laughing lightly, you decided to grab the first colour that came to mind: blue.
You didn’t really have anything in mind, thinking that maybe you should listen to Harry and just follow whatever you felt.
Harry started right away, easily mixing a deep yellow and crimson on his canvas that turned into an orange that was nearly too bright. He wasn’t paying much attention, though, watching you from the corner of his eye.
You had your head tilted down, arms resting on your knees with one hand perched down, mixing some blue on the palette. With your bottom lip between your teeth, and a little furrow to your brow, you grabbed some yellow, and then some more blue.
You were swirling the colours together, resulting in a brighter blue, and you brought the brush up to the canvas. He saw you hesitate again, tip of the brush not making contact with the white canvas.
“Don’t think too much about it, love.”
The pet name slipped past his lips easily, not even thinking about it. Your attention turned to him as he spoke, and he didn’t miss the way that the corner of your lips turned up, before you bit said lips together.
“Okay,” the word was a quiet murmur, as your attention was back on the canvas, you painted a thick blue line right on the left side.
After that, you seemed to ease up a little, mixing various hues of blue, not really having a plan as you painted them over and next to each other. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you were enjoying yourself.
It was therapeutic, the way that the thick paint smoothed over the canvas in the same way that an espresso shot poured so fluidly into a mug.
You were catching quick glances at what Harry was doing every once and awhile, seeing him add blue shapes on the opposite side to where the orange was.
It was like that for a bit, and you didn’t know how long. A nice calm atmosphere around the both of you, with small snippets of conversation here and there.
Your painting wasn’t advancing that much, but you seemed to have some big aspects going on. A dark, maybe angry, blue on the bottom of the canvas, and a light and deep toned one on the top.
As you kept glancing over to Harry, you realized that he was painting two sets of hands, nearly grasping each other but not quite yet. You were quietly amazed by his skill.
After another period in silence, with the only noise coming from outside as the window above your head was propped open, you felt Harry start to shift from next to you. First, he stretched out his legs, and then his arms.
And then you heard the paper under you rustle, Harry moving to his knees as he shuffled closer to you. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, trying not to pause in your movements to avoid showing that you were paying any attention to him.
Feeling his presence linger, you finally cast him a glance over your shoulder. Still not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes stop over your lips for a moment before looking past at the canvas in front of you.
“Can I –” he leaned in closer to you. “Show you a few techniques?” His voice was smooth in your ear, not really asking a question as the shirt over his chest brushed your back.
You simply nodded, mind reeling a bit as his lips lingered near your ear.
It was then when he lowered himself from his knees, seating himself behind you. Your movements froze, not fully able to see him as you sat still, and faced forward. His legs widened a bit as he sat back, slowly unfolding one at a time and placed his feet on the ground, bent at the knees and loosely casing you in.
Your skin jumped under his touch when a hand was wrapping over yours, leaning his body in even closer so that his chest was fully pressed against your back. You could feel the small puffs of air leave his nose that hit the top of your shoulder.
He guided your hand down to dip the tip of the brush into the mixed paint by your side, moving both of your limbs together. “Just like,” his voice was deep and quiet in your ear, moving your hands back up near the canvas. “Just like this.”
You didn’t dare look back at him – knowing that one glance would have you gone. You were sure his eyes were glowing and that he had that dumb little smirk on his lips; his lips that were oh so pink and slightly wet from how much he bit them.
Just the feeling of him gently pressed against you, chest digging into your back slightly deeper every time he moved your arms together, was making your head spin. You could barely pay attention to what he was doing to the canvas, solely focused on the feeling of his skin on yours.
“Just like that,” he murmured deep in your ear, bit of stubble scratching your skin when his chin moved forward to rest on top of your shoulder.
Nearly dropping the paintbrush when his hand let go of yours, catching it in an awkward manner. He slipped his hand away, sliding it up your forearm until it rested lightly over your elbow. His other hand was still resting by his side on the ground, and all you wanted was for his arms to squeeze around you while his thighs did the same.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, forcing your attention back to the splotch of colours that stood in front of you on the canvas. You were painting continuous little blue lines along the right side, layering the slightly different shades.
It was when you had started to focus a bit more on the darker colour you were mixing, that Harry’s chin moved from your shoulder. Instead, you felt his nose brush over the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine which you hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Though you know he did. And when he placed his lips on your skin and whispered ‘just like that’ one more time, you became putty under him.
You tried not to appear affected by him, you really did, but you also didn’t know how it could be physically possible to focus on anything other than him at the moment. The brush stilled in your hands, arm resting exactly where it was and halting in all movements.
His lips were moving down the nape of your neck, small barely-there kisses that were like whispers over your skin. The hand on your elbow slipped under your arm, gripping your waist with his fingers bunching into the baggy material of your dress.
A whisper of your name onto your skin was all it took. Your eyes pulled away from the mess of blue on the canvas, having to lean away from Harry to properly gaze over your shoulder at him.
Eyes heavy on yours, gaze sharing unspoken words. You watched his eyes drop down without a shame to stare at your mouth, dilated pupils tracing the soft curve of your lips. You couldn’t help but wet them under his intense stare.
The sight of him blurred as he neared you until your eyes shut and his lips covered yours.
Your neck was tensing from the uncomfortable position, tilting around your shoulder, but when you tasted Harry again you didn’t care.
His mouth took your bottom lip between his teeth, grazing over it before releasing it and he craned his neck further around your shoulder to properly kiss you. His hand grabbed onto your dress, holding the fabric tighter in his grip.
Kissing Harry again felt even better than the last time. Even in the nearly painful position, you wanted to pull him in closer and deeper and not be able to know where you ended and he started.
He was warm and bright just like the hot August evening, beaming like the sun through the window. He drew you in closer and made you feel so at peace – at this moment you couldn’t remember ever feeling stressed.
A gasp escaped from the back of your throat, Harry’s mouth moving over yours in slow and deep movements. Like last time, he eased his way into your mouth slowly, savouring your taste. Tasting like coffee, and something sweet he couldn’t get enough of.
Legs that rested by your sides closed in on you a bit, squeezing your hips when he turned in to try and rest even closer to you. The position was awkward, the brush still half hanging in your hand, while your other hand moved around behind you to lace through Harry’s hair.
He was kissing you deeply, tongue delving in against yours. Although you were in close proximity with his front pressed against your back, you wanted to be closer. You wanted to be on top of him, or vice versa, you wanted to be able to feel his weight against you.
As if reading your mind, Harry parted your lips with a light pant, eyes fluttering open as he licked over his moistened lips. Slowly releasing you from his grip without a word, scooting back a bit until not a single sliver of skin was touching yours anymore. You felt him grip the paintbrush from your hand, leaning across the floor to place it in the little jar of water he had set out.
“Turn around for me, love.”
Skin warming at the tone of his voice and the words he was saying. You decided he could’ve told you anything in that voice and you’d easily listen.
You shifted forward a bit awkwardly, with your hands on the ground beneath you to hold you in place as you moved around on your bum until you were facing him.
He looked stunning in the warm glow of the sunset, orange beams pushing through the window and kissed the tip of his cheek. His hair was a bit tousled from your hand that had run through it, eyes dark and intent on yours and lips begging for more.
He sat an arm length away, raising his right hand as if to cup your face but he let it hover by your side. Your skin burned to feel his touch on you. “I’ve got paint on my hands,” he murmured, eyes glancing down. “Already got some on you.”
“I don’t care,” your own hand reached out for him. Curving it around his neck, pulling him closer to you until your lips were once again connected.
Harry shifted closer to you, hand resting by the crook of your neck while the other was placed on your knee. Wet lips were greedy for each other, licking deep into your mouth as he let out a shaky breath through his nose.
The hand on your knee squeezed it, thumb brushing circles onto the skin. His touch was sending sparks under your skin, and all you wanted was to feel more of that.
And when his hand slid up the slightest bit up and his lips enveloped your bottom lip, the softest moan escaped past your parted lips and Harry knew he needed more as well.
“Can you lay back for me.”
His own legs rested by your side, slowly lifting himself to his knees. His eyes were heavy on yours, watching your head slowly nod as you leaned back on the hand behind you.
The hand that was resting by your neck slid down your arm, holding you as he eased himself down, letting your back hit the floor under you. His legs extended out next to yours, shuffling himself so that he had one between your own before he moved to hover over you. One hand keeping himself slightly at level, he pressed the rest of his body down on yours until your lips were reconnected.
“Are you comfortable?” A quick kiss to your lips before he lifted his face away, eyes flicking between your own.
You quickly nodded, swallowing a breath as your fingers held the material of his shirt. “Yes.” Moving your hand from his bicep up around his neck, fingertips tapping lightly against his collarbone. Some loose curls were falling over his forehead and were pushed out of the way when you brought your hand up to run your fingers through them.
Running your nails over his scalp, lowering his head down to yours until your lips met once more. It was slightly different this time; hotter, a tinge of desperation behind both of your movements. Every touch of his skin on yours was sending a bolt of pleasure straight down to where you craved him the most.
The breathing in the room growing heavier, your whines laced with the small puffs of air. His own lips slid to your jaw, then to your neck where he nipped the spot right under your earlobe. Committing you to memory, capturing every inch of your skin, and every sound you made.
He still had a hand resting by your knee, having slid up along with the hem of your dress just hitting the middle of your thighs, as if about to ask if he could move his hand further up, lips parting against yours.
You sucked in his bottom lip between your own, teeth grazing of the thin skin as if giving silent permission. He pulled away slightly, eyelids flitting open. His eyes darkened, voice husky in your ear. “I – I need you to tell me what you want.”
“Please,” mouth searching for his once again. You circled a hand around his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. His hand holding himself up found your arm by your side, trailing his fingers along your forearm until your fingertips were intertwining. “Just – anything.”
Pulling your hand up along with his, keeping it down on the ground above your head, his lips slid away from yours again as he pulled a whimper from your throat, hot breath hitting the side of your neck.
“Still got paint on my hands,” he rasped as his lips brushed over the skin under your earlobe. “Getting it on your thighs.”
“Don’t care,” repeating your words from before with a lift of your hips.
The slow-building ache between your thighs was at an all-time high, as you were hyper-aware of Harry’s hand that was pushing under your dress. You felt an involuntary buck of your hips as he shifted over you, thigh brushing over where you wanted so badly to feel him. “Oh.”
Eyes falling to Harry’s, catching him already watching you. He had that small lift in his lips, the subtle smirk as he knew what he was doing.
And then he was dipping his head lower again, as his hand rose higher on your thigh, pushing the denim of your dress up along with it. His nose skimmed the edge of your dress strap, nudging it aside before his lips kissed over your collarbone.
His fingers were inching their way up your leg, tips just brushing over the corner of your thigh. He was moving oh so slowly, while his lips hotly kissed and sucked on your skin.
He moved the fingers that were still intertwined above your head down, letting go as he let you reposition your own hand through his hair. His fingers were quick to touch your side, fiddling with the hem of your dress that was moved up significantly.
Lips breaking away from your skin, gazing up at you through heavy eyelashes, you nearly had to look away by how intense his gaze was, but you were worried about what you’d miss if you did.
Both hands now on either thigh, edging the fabric of your dress up while his eyes didn’t waver from your own, lifting your bum the slightest bit to help move the material up, until he caught sight of your blue cotton underwear and the fabric was gathered just above your hips.
Suddenly Harry was shuffling down your body, paper rustling under his knees, his forearms pushing at your thighs. When you felt his breath hit the crease of your skin, you were scrambling to prop yourself up on an elbow.
You watched him rise to his knees and then to his feet, watching the slight confusion dawn your features as he quickly walked through his apartment and over to the couch that sat opposite to you. He didn’t leave for long enough for you to even begin to shuffle up, quickly reappearing with a plush blanket in hand.
Soon finding himself in the same position he was previously, not before plopping the blanket down on the ground and guiding you to move your hips on top of it.
“More comfortable this way,” he chuckled at your expression, hands quick to grab at your skin once more.
He pushed your legs further apart, bending at the knee as your legs butterflied. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure he wasn’t pushing you too far.
“What are you,” you paused, swallowing a thick breath as your mind was unable to focus on a simple thing other than the fact Harry was hovering dangerously close to where you were aching. “What are you doing.”
“Paint,” was all he said, lips wet on your skin. “Can’t use my hands.”
Sliding his body the few more inches he needed for his mouth be level with the inside of your thigh, pulling a shaky breath from you as he lowered his lips. His lips grazed right over the skin of your inner thigh, leg jolting at the touch.
“Can I?” his voice rasped deep from below you, hot breath warming your entire body. “Tell me if I can.”
You needed to swallow a heavy gulp before answering, unable to believe the anticipation that was building. “Please, yes.”
A high gasp sound from your throat when his lips closed over your clothed core, pressure against your clit. His hands that had been holding your thighs apart moved over your hips, the cotton of your underwear between his thumb and index finger.
Lifting your hips, your own hand coming down to pull at the fabric of your garment, Harry was quick to take hold of said hand, wanting to be the one to undress you. Inching the fabric off of you, he eased your thighs to bend, making it easier to fully discard the thin material.
Moving your hand to rest in his hair, hands on your thighs again with his eyes skimming over every inch of skin in front of him. You were wanting to watch his every move, and tightly shut your eyes. You decided on the former, fingers locking tightly in his hair as his lips skimmed over the sensitive skin of your thighs once again.
Harry was reveling in the sight before him; having you spread for him with the sunset casting a golden glow all over your body. Your dress bunched around your hips, cunt glistening, eyelids heavy and lips wet as you breathlessly panted his name. “Harry.”
“Fuck,” he muttered against you when he finally got his first taste. You were wet, so wet, and perfectly sweet.
Your back arched at his first touch, tongue lapping over your folds. His forearms still over your thighs, pushing them further apart to spread you open.
The sound you made when he repeated the motion, this time seeking out your clit, told him that he was successful in doing so. Your hips jolted slightly at the feeling, breathless whimper escaping your mouth as he paid close attention to the sensitive bit of nerves.
You were certain you felt yourself leaking as Harry experimented with your clit, gently and then roughly pushing the tip of his tongue against it.
“Oh...!” Mouth gaping open when his lips circled around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he lightly sucked. He repeated the motion, tongue lightly flicking over the nub before he pulled it between his mouth.
You lifted your head when his lips retreated from your clit, sucking into the skin of your thigh once again. Unable to take your eyes off the way his cheeks hollowed and his dark eyes remained intent on you as if you would disappear if he looked away.
Tongue licking up to your wet hole, saliva mixing with your arousal as he poked his tongue past your entrance. He had you pushing your hips up against him, nails digging into the skin on his neck while his tongue worked inside of you.
“Oh, God.” It was heavenly.
He worked slowly against you, tongue pushing up against your clit in a way that made your back arch of the mattress as you desperately needed more. “Harry –”
His lips circled around your swollen clit, eliciting a sharp cry at the end of your praise. Fingers pulling tightly in his already messy locks, not caring about the roughness of your actions in the moment. All you could focus on was how you felt completely on fire by the way Harry touched you.
He hummed against your heat, likely muttering something that you couldn’t make out. He sent vibrations all through your body, shooting up your spine and making your mind melt. You knew you were slick, probably embarrassingly so, but the way Harry was burying himself between your thighs left you without a care.
“It’s good?” His hot voice pulled your focus back onto him, glancing down when his tongue licked up your folds again, pushing through on every spot until your legs kicked slightly when he hit your clit. “Feels good?”
He moved his head away, hovering just over you with a lick to his lips. “So good,” you whimpered into the air, craving to feel him on you again. “O-on my clit again –”
You were cut short when his mouth kissed over you again, lips parted until they found their place around your clit, this time sucking harshly as he gaged your reaction.
His arms were still holding your legs parted, fingers gripping tightly into your skin there were sure to be crescent moon shaped nail marks indented into your thighs. His tongue was dancing patterns on your clit, pressure going from light to rough within a matter of seconds.
Listening to every heavy breath, every small gasp, and every light moan that was being pulled from your chest, Harry was memorizing every move he made that you reacted to.
You swore you could feel his lips curve to a smile when his tongue delved back into you, licking along slick skin while his nose nudged your clit. The small movement had you pushing your hips up, his tongue digging into you.
And then he was tugging on your clit again, pulling a deep moan from low in your throat that had him wanting to hear nothing else.
There was a fire in the pit of your stomach, chest heaving as you felt a slow build of your climax. Thighs pressing against his hands as you seemed to be unable to keep them still, completely focused on the way his tongue was quickly working against you.
Clenching around nothing, your back arching as you sought him out. “Need something,” you babbled. “Need more.”
He only muttered against you, not wanting to break contact from your heat for a moment too long. “No hands,” was all he said for a moment, the noise of his mouth wet on your cunt making you lose your mind.
“Know you can do it,” he moaned after a moment, encouraging you as he wanted nothing more than to see you unravel under him.
He worked with skill against you, making it his mission to see you cum for him. He knew he was getting you there, your breathing getting heavier and your grip getting tighter in his hair. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would sound when you came.
Getting you close, words starting to babble from your lips, pleads laced with praises and small cries that he could barely decipher spurred him on.
“I’m –” you gasped, eyes squeezing shut at the fire that was about to burn out of your core.
“Go on,” he urged, voice quiet as he didn’t want to take his lips off you for more than a second. Tongue circling around you quickly before licking quick patterns over the sensitive spot of your clit that made you call out his name.
“Oh…!” Mouth hanging open when you came against his mouth, his hands releasing your legs the slightest bit as they tried to squeeze close around his head. Hips jolting up with a rise of your bum, your hands tight in his hair.
The sound of your moans filled his ears, knowing that this was now the best thing he had ever heard. His tongue slowed around you before he pulled his head away and watched in awe at the sight in front of him. Your chest was heavily rising, lips wet and bit darker with your eyes closed shut.
The pleasure coursing through you slowly subsided, daring to peek an eye open at Harry by your thighs. He had a lazy smile etched across his mouth, and you watched his tongue dart out to lick his wet lips. His cheeks flushed red and hair disarray, as you slowly let go of your grip on his head, arms falling to your side.
The sun had set past the building outside, the light that was previously golden orange was now a hazy blue, casting darkened shadows under Harry’s features.
He lifted himself to his knees, stretching his arms out as he kept his eyes on you with a wide grin.
“Is,” you were the first to speak, propping yourself up on your elbows as you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not before noticing the blue and orange paint that was in fact smeared on your thighs. “Is painting always like that?”
A breathless chuckle escaped his parted lips, and he was suddenly hovering over you again. “Painting has never been like that.”
#hi#i really hope everyone enjoyed <333#please rb and share and let me know what u think !!!! happy reading#cb#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine
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Van Zieks - the Examination, part 7
Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).
Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Back to the second game we go for The Return of the Great Departed Soul! (Part one, this is another two-parter case)
Episode 2-3: The Return of the Great Departed Soul
So now, chronologically, six months have passed since The Unspeakable Story. Susato returned to Japan at the end of the first game and hasn't returned yet. Ryu was reprimanded for all the perjury and the questionable McGilded defense, so he had his right to stand in court revoked for now and instead had to focus on studying English law some more. He's done so quite patiently and now he feels he's ready to return. He just needs to get Stronghart's permission first. Meanwhile, the Great Exhibition is happening in Hyde Park, pulling in visitors and scientists from all over the world. Exciting! (S)Holmes hands Ryu a newspaper with an article on the exhibition, talking about how the brighter things shine, the darker the shadows cast behind them. By now, Ryu is fluent enough in (S)Holmes speak to know this means he should flip over the newspaper. There, we find an article of an entirely different sort.
So not only was Van Zieks apparently attacked, Ryu shows horror and concern at the notion. No hard feelings from our wholesome boy! (S)Holmes explains that London's finest criminals often find ways to get acquittals from trials through bribery, threats, sham witnesses... We saw this in McGilded, of course, so we know all too well how dangerous that can get. But since the Reaper and his curse are immune to such tactics, when a ringleader or fellow ends up being 'taken' by the curse, retaliation can occur. So it's established that this isn't the first time Van Zieks has been attacked by a group of thugs. Fortunately, Van Zieks is an “accomplished combatant” who doesn't take these attacks lying down. Unfortunately, the thugs were carrying guns this time. Uhoh.
This warms my heart, it really does. Van Zieks has been a terrible scumbag, but Ryu doesn't think he's gotten his comeuppance at all. He's genuinely concerned for this man and intends to find out more about his condition. So since he was planning to meet with Stronghart and ask for attorney permission anyway, it's the perfect opportunity to also ask about Van Zieks! Iris decides to tag along because she wants to visit the Great Exhibition. Let's shove the newspaper in Stronghart's face as soon as the game allows it.
The phrasing of “number one prosecutor” is interesting, but then... We never learn of any other (living) veteran prosecutors in this country, so of course Van Zieks would be number one. Stronghart says there's no need for concern; Van Zieks would not be so easily dispatched. Street ruffians are no match for him, since he's a very capable fighter. Seems like that sword he carries around isn't just for show after all. As for why he was attacked this time... Well, a month ago Van Zieks prosecuted a leader of a criminal organization. Nice to know he didn't just return to retirement and instead got back to work like a normal person without cherrypicking his cases based on what Ryu's doing. The defendant was acquitted, no doubt thanks to large sums of money being shifted around behind the scenes, but he still met a dramatic end just yesterday during an accident at the Great Exhibition. The man in question was Odie Asman, and the one now being detained on suspicion of murder without a defense attorney is Professor Albert Harebrayne. Albert's case has just been assigned to Ryu, so we're sure to find out more about Asman as we go. As as final touch, Ryu asks Stronghart why he continues to use Van Zieks as a prosecutor. Since the criminals are becoming fearful of the curse and attacking him, it's dangerous to Van Zieks himself. Stronghart explains that he has two reasons: Firstly, Van Zieks is the best prosecutor in the capital, bar none. And secondly, any deaths that have occurred outside the courtrooms after his trials have nothing to do with him. (S)Holmes alluded to the same thing, saying that Van Zieks had a rock-hard alibi for each and every mysterious death.
“So he will continue to prosecute on behalf of the Crown. ...Unless he wishes otherwise, of course.” With that, Stronghart admits he needs to get going since he's already 11 hours late to his next appointment (fsdkjfls). Ryu asks where he might be able to find Van Zieks and is told to head to his office. So even after being told that Van Zieks is just fine, Ryu is still concerned and wants to discuss the matter with the man himself. Let's gooo! Naturally, the first thing out of Van Zieks's mouth when he catches Ryu and Iris in his office is to wonder what the heck they're doing here.
So there's several things of interest in the office, with the game automatically addressing the biggest one: Van Zieks has an apprentice now! It's a mysterious, rigid dude wearing a hood and a mask who is absolutely not familiar to us, nope. We don't know him. Gosh, what a mystery. Van Zieks doesn't seem to know who he is either, instead just referring to him as his apprentice and nothing more.
Ryu sees this as an opening to ask about the attack on the Reaper that was in the newspaper. Van Zieks admits that he too is very interested in the true identity of the Reaper. “Assuming, that is, such a fabled fiend genuinely inhabits our great courtrooms.” The conversation halts for a moment so we can examine the office and this is the best opportunity for humanizing traits we've gotten so far, so LET'S DO IT! The enormous portrait in the back is the first thing to peek at.
Iris says whoever painted it exaggerated the subject's handsomeness, which in turn is reminiscent of Napoleon ordering the painter to make him look more attractive. That's super vain and not an attractive quality in a person at all. I laughed the whole way through that bit of dialogue and Van Zieks, who was in earshot the entire time, gets his feathers ruffled.
When Ryu asks who it is then, Van Zieks doesn't reply. BACKSTORY ALERT! Examining the chalices and bottles on the left leads to Van Zieks explaining the hallowed bottles are filled with the finest grapes from the finest vineyards he visits (so it is grape juice!!!) and he personally oversees the chalices being made by the finest crystal craftsmen in the world. Right, so not only is he filthy stinkin' rich, he's a perfectionist. Iris points out that Van Zieks throws the chalices and bottles around like they're worthless, to which Van Zieks says:
“Before you open your mouth next time, you should consider the poor artisans whose work you defile.”
As it turns out, passive aggression is contagious now. Ryu replies with a “So it's my fault? Silly me! How could I ever have thought otherwise?” and honestly I love that he's got enough guts to say this out loud. Our boy is growing a spine. Examining the wine casks has Ryu and Iris theorize about how there might be dead bodies in there, which once again ruffles Van Zieks's feathers.
Snrk. Examining the big diorama in the middle of the room has Ryu and Iris wonder whether Van Zieks can't go to the Exhibition in person and this is his way of dealing with that, which has Van Zieks snap that it's obviously an investigative aid. He even has pets of sorts in his office, in the form of a couple of bats hanging from the curtains. Alright, so the game's definitely humanizing this poor man now. No matter how many crazy stories Iris and Ryu come up with about him, there's usually a very innocent explanation to debunk the eerie myths. Something particularly interesting happens when Ryu shows Van Zieks his defense attorney armband. Van Zieks asks what the reason is for showing it to a British prosecutor, to which Ryu admits that he doesn't quite know. Van Zieks is silent for a bit, then says that he understands. “There's merit in reminding yourself of who helped you become what you are today.”
As he says it, he reaches for his prosecutor's badge and if you're aware of the backstory, you'll know he's thinking of Klint. More importantly, this conversation puts Ryu and Van Zieks on the same level. Ryu is always thinking of Kazuma, who 'helped him become who he is today' and the armband signifies this, along with the sword. Similarly, Van Zieks lost someone very close to him and he's walking the path of prosecutor in his brother's memory. Ryu thanks Van Zieks for understanding and it's very significant that Van Zieks understands in the first place. Remember, in the first game he was under the impression that a Japanese person could never understand a British person and vice versa.
Showing Van Zieks the newspaper article has him looking a bit embarrassed, pointing out that a reporter must've been nearby and he'd been careless to let himself get photographed. Either way, all the thugs responsible have already been apprehended. The investigation into Odie Asman's activities meant that their arrests were already imminent anyway, and some hoped to kill Van Zieks before that happened. Much like McGilded, Asman used his wealth to buy his way towards an acquittal in court, but “he got his comeuppance in the end.” Which is strange, right? Very suspicious. Van Zieks asks whether Ryu believes he has some sort of divine ability to make an accident like that happen. Ryu admits that would be far-fetched, and thinks to himself that even if Van Zieks were the Reaper, he'd have to be innocent of this particular death. We also learn that Van Zieks is familiar with Professor Harebrayne, the suspect in the Asman incident. When told that Ryu will be taking on the defense, Van Zieks is shocked.
Van Zieks goes on to explain that he knows Albert quite well. They were at university together. While he's lived in Germany for quite a few years, Albert is actually from a respectable British family. And despite Albert being in the science faculty and Van Zieks in law, they got along quite well. Now he's in pretty hot water for that Asman accident.
Hm. I don't quite know what to make of this reaction. I think what's going on here isn't that Van Zieks is rattled because Albert is being defended by a Japanese person, but because he's being defended by a rookie attorney who was just disbarred for six months for accidentally encouraging perjury, false witness and crime scene tampering in a court of law. Yes, Ryu has won his trials every single time, but it came at a price. Aside from this, there's one other thing Van Zieks knows about Ryu: he'll pursue the truth, no matter what. This means that if Albert indeed didn't succeed at inventing teleportation, it'll be revealed in court because exposing shams is Ryu's whole deal.
We learn that Van Zieks will be the one to prosecute Albert tomorrow, which is curious to say the least. Ryu wants to know why he'd do something like that, with Iris pointing out that so long as the Reaper is the prosecutor, Albert is doomed. Van Zieks replies that he's a Crown prosecutor and a mortal like any other; he's no demigod. In other words, he doesn't believe the curse to be a real curse. Iris points out that everyone who's been prosecuted by Van Zieks has died (which is already objectively wrong), to which Van Zieks replies that he usually prosecutes the vilest wretches of society.
… Harsh. Ryu points out that Soseki wasn't a vile wretch though, with Iris chiming in that Gina's also turned her life around and she's working very hard now. Van Zieks admits that things have changed ever since meeting Ryu- which of course has to do with Van Zieks's need to face Ryu in court even in mediocre trials rather than pursue his usual corrupted targets- but the point is that if any of those vile wretches died in mysterious circumstances, it was “at the hand of their own kind”, not Van Zieks's. So basically, he believes that they were killed because they were dubious people engaged with dubious activities, not because of the Reaper's curse. Not only that, but ever since the rumors of the Reaper began, the number of serious crimes in London has decreased significantly. Even the most hardened criminals can be made fearful of their lives. Therefore, if his pseudonym of the Reaper can serve a useful purpose, he'll “adopt it gladly and with honour”. Ryu repeats that which he already told Stronghart; that it's putting Van Zieks in danger.
He really is a prosecutor on the edge with nothing to lose, huh. So what Van Zieks is basically saying is that he doesn't care if he dies, so long as he spends the rest of his life serving the 'useful purpose' of carrying the Reaper moniker to intimidate the vilest of society. But is that really all there is to it? (Spoilers: It's not)
There's a bit more talk about the mysterious apprentice here, with Van Zieks explaining the man was placed in his care under Stronghart's orders. He's wearing a mask on Stronghart's orders and also doesn't speak to anyone from outside the office on Stronghart's orders. HM. Van Zieks claims that Stronghart isn't one for “meaningless follies”, therefore he must have a good reason. This implies that Van Zieks believes in Stronghart's judgment almost blindly. To round up the conversation, Van Zieks asks about “that Nipponese man. The one arrested twice in succession six months ago. With the stoop. And the moustache. And the jitters.” Looks super offensive at first glance, but I gotta admit, after six months I wouldn't remember Soseki's name either. Better to describe him than to guess the name and get it wrong. Still though, just because it's not super offensive doesn't mean it's not offensive. Just saying “the one you defended six months ago” would've done the trick. Either way, Ryu says he's doing just fine and a letter from him arrived by post just the other day.
So this is interesting. Earlier, Van Zieks claimed in his own words that he doesn't believe in the curse and those who died had it coming to them, but he's still inquiring after Soseki. Perhaps not so much because he's worried about Soseki himself, but because he's curious whether this man has successfully escaped the curse so far. He would know that for a fact about Gina, but the only way to verify Soseki's status is to ask Ryu about it.
Time to leave this glass cage of exposition and meet the defendant in person! Albert spouts a whole lot of dialogue about how his machine is treated differently depending on whether the case is treated as an accident or as murder. If it's murder, it can be examined up close and that's what Albert doesn't want. It has to be treated as an accident so that it'll be protected from prying eyes through The Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act (wow that's a mouthful). Of course, that's not entirely what we're interested in. Let's ask about his friendship with Van Zieks! Ryu asks what he was like back in his university days and the answer surprises him.
HAH, wonderfully written exchange, this one. Albert goes to describe him as “the little darling of the Van Zieks family, with all its great aristocratic origins”. So Van Zieks has some very noble blood in him. We could've already guessed this from his title of Lord, but apparently it's a bit more serious. I could derail here with wild theories about his family originating from the Netherlands and having migrated to the UK around the time the first king of the Netherlands, Willem I van Oranje Nassau, rose to power in 1813. Willem changed the way nobility works to some degree in the country and not all noble families would've agreed with his way of doing things. But anyway, point is, Van Zieks is a big shot. Albert says that it was kind of a shock to him when he came back to Britain and discovered 'what Van Zieks had become'. He heard that there was 'a very big event' that completely changed Van Zieks after his graduation, but doesn't know what it was because he was already in Germany at the time. So here we have some more traces of that backstory and we have enough pieces to start sticking some things together. We know Van Zieks was once betrayed by a friend and we now know he was a very modest, pleasant gentleman when he was young. Whatever happened must've been very harsh indeed to turn him into such a sour lemon. Either way, Albert doesn't seem to know yet that Van Zieks will be the prosecutor and Ryu doesn't have the heart to tell him.
So let's investigate the crime scene! Here, it's confirmed that Gina Lestrade is indeed just fine and now in training to become a detective with Gregson. Cute! So eventually we get to talk to Gregson about Van Zieks and how he's acquainted with Albert. Gregson is overdramatically shocked to find out that the two of them are old buddies.
Remember when Van Zieks took a five year hiatus and nobody had to mysteriously die from the Reaper's curse? Those were the days, eh Gregson? Now he's even prosecuting his own friends willy-nilly. Gregson states he has no idea what goes on in Van Zieks's head (a sentiment we've heard before in 1-4) and goes on to bring up the newspaper article about Van Zieks being attacked. When told that our good old pal the Reaper is just fine, Gregson utters a very uncomfortable “glad to hear it” which honestly had me wondering whether he'd preferred Van Zieks to die.
Up until a certain someone gets killed and stuffed into a suitcase, I'd reckon. Gregson says that Van Zieks is a top class prosecutor, but not even he can always push the right verdict through. “Sometimes justice can't win.” Gregson explains that naturally, Scotland Yard suspected Van Zieks at first and assumed he was taking matters into his own hands. There was a very thorough investigation and the outcome was that Van Zieks was in no way related to the mysterious deaths. So that's three people now who all insist Van Zieks couldn't possibly have committed the murders. Gregson says he's willing to stake his reputation on it, even. Of course, Gregson would know for sure, wouldn't he? But the narrative is telling us over and over that Van Zieks himself isn't the Reaper, with even Van Zieks himself implying he'd like to know just who the Reaper is. There's a conspiracy happening that Van Zieks is the centerpiece of, with the narrative really pushing the mystery aspect of it. The writers want us to care about the truth of the Reaper for sure.
OOOH that's meta! Ryu, being nosy and overly invested in Van Zieks's life, asks Gregson whether he knows about the 'incident' which changed Van Zieks after graduation.
Okay he clearly knows. Even a first time player can tell from this single reaction that Gregson's lying. The mystery thickens! At the end of the conversation, when Gregson's gone off, Iris recommends asking (S)Holmes about it instead. Safe bet, since (S)Holmes continuously knows more than he's letting on. To the house of wax we go! When asked about it, it's clear that he does know something (and is described as suddenly clamming up), but before he can explain there's a distraction in the form of Madam Tusspells and we have to sit through a mostly-unrelated Joint Reasoning segment. It leads into a conversation about a mass murderer known as the Professor. Ten years ago, there was a series of murders which rocked the capital right around the time Van Zieks graduated from university. Five people were killed before the man was caught and executed. This fifth victim was Klint van Zieks, Barok's older brother.
I really, really dislike this phrasing because Van Zieks was already studying law to begin with. He'd just graduated as a prosecutor; his brother's death had nothing to do with him pursuing that path. Anyway...
OOOH that's meta! So remember way back in the first essay when I said the backstory is optional? Well, here it is. The Great Ace Attorney is going all in for it. It's being tied to the ongoing plot, just as pretty much all the main prosecutor backstories are. Edgeworth's backstory is tied to Von Karma being the final boss, Godot's backstory is tied to the Fey lineage, Klavier's backstory (I say this lightly) is tied to Phoenix's disgrace... Now Van Zieks's story is tied to the serial killer who ruined so many lives a decade ago. And technically, we already have all the puzzle pieces we need for the next twist; we know Van Zieks was betrayed by a Japanese person who was his friend. So really, we can now say with absolutely certainty that the man arrested and executed back then was a Japanese buddy of Van Zieks.
The investigation segment is pretty much over, but the game has one more scene for us. This is something Ryunosuke won't witness, but the scriptwriters deemed it so important that we're ignoring Ryu to focus solely on the two characters involved. And cutting away from our main character is something that usually doesn't happen in Ace Attorney. Even when characters like Phoenix or Ryu are out of commission for whatever reason, a new 'main character' takes over for a second and we see everything from their point of view. I can think of only one other scene viewed without Ryu there, which happened in 1-5 just before Susato had to leave London. So what we have here is a very private moment between Van Zieks and Albert.
AWWW... The scenes in the office were great and all, but this right here is perhaps the most humanizing exchange we'll ever see with Barok. The reason for that, I think, is precisely because Ryu isn't there. He's alone with an old friend now, which means he can let his guard down more than he usually would. Even so, it's worth noting here that he doesn't look directly at Albert. He stands with his back to him the entire time and I'm certain this is intentional, because they could just as easily have rotated him into that sideways view that's often used in dialogue and courtroom scenes. He made his way down to the gaol to speak with his friend after ten long years, but is reluctant to look right at him. The conversation itself feels rather distant as well. Albert is delighted to see Van Zieks, but the sentiment isn't returned vocally. Van Zieks points out that they're meeting again “in prison of all places” and that the court will decide Albert's fate tomorrow. When Van Zieks raises a warning, Albert says he already knows his friend will be prosecuting and doesn't appear bothered at all at first. He does try to raise a question in the form of “Are you really...?”, but ultimately drops it and says that he knows Van Zieks has his best interests at heart. Van Zieks says he wouldn't entrust the trial of his friend to anyone else, and Albert thanks him for that. So my first guess upon taking in that dialogue is that Albert wonders for a brief moment whether Van Zieks really is the Reaper/really is cursed, only to shake it off because he considers the man his friend. Van Zieks seems to know it's risky to prosecute Albert, but deems it more important to handle the case himself than to let someone else do it. This, as we learn later, has to do with the Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act and the protection of Albert's scientific secrets.
Next day, we're at the Old Bailey! In the defendant lobby, Ryu is once again told by Albert that the true goal to aim for in this trial is to protect his scientific hypothesis. So hypothetically speaking, the ideal outcome here would be to prove the death was accidental and that the kinesis was a success at the same time. (S)Holmes and Iris don't believe Albert's theory to be sound though, instead saying it couldn't possibly be done. In the courtroom, Ryu faces off against Van Zieks once more for the first time in six months! The judge is quick to point out that Odie Asman is a name familiar to him; a man who was prosecuted only a month ago by Van Zieks. When he asks whether this death is the work of the Reaper, Van Zieks instead describes it as “divine retribution”, but also “a direct result of the actions of the accused, Professor Albert Harebrayne”. The prosecution asserts that the instantaneous kinesis demonstration was a success. He himself can't say for certain whether it's a sound theory, but it's being investigated by the British government since it was deemed to have potential and the prosecution's case aligns with the notion that there was indeed instantaneous- You know what? Let's just call it teleportation. That's easier to type.
Unfortunately, Van Zieks doesn't want to follow the accident angle. Instead, he outright accuses his old friend of murdering Asman using the totally-functional-teleportation-machine-which-totally-worked to be the sole benefactor of a scientific grant. Harsh. Very harsh. I don't entirely understand why he didn't pursue the accident angle instead, but then, I don't quite know enough about law. My guess is that as the prosecution, he's not allowed to. Scotland Yard found enough evidence at the scene to substantiate a murder plot, especially that damning screwdriver that Ryu so graciously handed to Gregson, so that's what the prosecution has to go with, maybe? It's up to the defense attorney to debunk that down to an accident, then, so in essence Van Zieks is counting on Ryu to 'defeat him' and prove the murder aspect wrong. It would align with the conversation Albert had with Van Zieks in prison, where he said that 'it was a terrible accident and the young Eastern man acting as his defence assured him that he can prove it'.
So speaking of that screwdriver, Albert tries to discredit it himself by saying that if he had stabbed Asman on the stage, there would've been a whole lot of blood. Van Zieks pours himself a glass of wine and 'congratulates' his friend on a good rebuttal.
“Here's to you, Albert!”
Albert laughs it off sheepishly, saying he's nothing compared to “Barok” (awww, first name basis), but a chalice is immediately flung. Van Zieks says Albert neglected to mention one crucial possibility, which is that the lack of blood is explained by the notion that the screwdriver remained in the victim's chest to plug the wound. Therefore, since the demonstration was totally a success, the screwdriver was teleported along with the victim. Ryu thinks to himself that he had no idea the victim had been stabbed and wonders whether Van Zieks kept that information to himself to keep the upper hand on purpose. This whole thing jars me a little, because the screwdriver is brought up relatively early in the trial during the very first cross-examination. Is not mentioning it during the opening statement and waiting for Gregson to bring it up three minutes later really the same as 'keeping it to himself to gain the upper hand'?
Either way, Ryu counters, saying that the screwdriver was found at the stage and therefore didn't teleport at all, with Gregson serving as an official witness to this location. It's pretty clear from the next dialogue that Gregson never told Van Zieks where that screwdriver was found.
“That you contravened the Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act?”
Gregson is immediately up in arms, but it's fine. There was no investigation needed to find a screwdriver lying in plain sight. So now Ryu decides to tighten the screws. He claims that if the prosecution can't explain the inconsistency (the screwdriver being found on the stage but no blood being there so clearly it must've plugged the wound), the testimony is unreliable. Van Zieks doesn't reply and Ryu thinks to himself that he looks stumped, but uh...
He just looks annoyed to me. The person to object next is not Van Zieks, it's Albert. He says that metal can't be teleported with the machine, so it only makes sense the screwdriver stayed behind and there's no inconsistency at all. Van Zieks suggests: “Clearly we should hear the accused's explanation. … Or should I say, this brilliant scientist's explanation?” And I think here in these two sentences we have the crux of the issue. Albert wants to be treated as a legitimate scientist above all else. Even if that means he's branded a murderer, so long as his hypothesis is protected and the confidentiality stands, it makes no difference to him. This was likely discussed with Van Zieks the night before as well. Albert is apparently willing to die for the sake of his scientific principles and... Well. I'm sure Van Zieks can understand. He's willing to die for the sake of serving the Reaper purpose. In a way, this means the defendant and the prosecution are in cahoots together, which is another first in Ace Attorney history. The two of them are fighting to keep the hypothesis of teleportation intact and if Ryu manages to prove that it was an accidental death, then great! Unfortunately, the second that screwdriver was discovered, the chances of that became slim to none. It was murder, plain and simple. On a sidenote, I found this little gem:
I'm counting this as humanization, because the underlying sentiment here is that despite his haughty better-than-thou attitude, Van Zieks is still friends with someone so very scatterbrained, his name is forgotten sometimes. Even Ryu is taken aback by the purity of the friendship.
Heh heh... Time to cause some more havoc by informing the court that Asman's metal-rimmed glasses were still on his face and since Albert already said metal can't be teleported, his hypothesis is a load of tosh. The jurors go up in arms about it, saying the machine should be stripped down and examined. The game gives Ryu the option to either raise an objection or 'wait and see', but this is another one of those fake choices. Waiting and seeing just leads to a bit more dialogue between the jurors before Ryu steps in of his own accord. He says Albert would have no reason to build such an elaborate fake machine and put on a public display for murder, but Van Zieks counters with the very good reason: Money. The jurors are even more outraged, calling him a fake scientist who's only in it for the guineas, and Albert begs them to believe that his science is built upon a sound hypothesis. Van Zieks comes in to 'save the day' (sort of).
“The fact remains that the victim was transported instantly to the Crystal Tower. Which means that the experiment... was a success.”
And I gotta say, this next bit is just very enjoyable to me. The way it's written is so great.
HEH HEH.... Van Zieks has some more witnesses to summon who saw the incident from some 'very special seats', but let's end the essay here for now and pick it back up next time!
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Hollow words (Dazai x reader ⛈Angst⛈)
Dazai x reader ⛈angst⛈ 🚨spoilers for season 2 "Dark Era"🚨 ⚠mention of violence⚠
Life at the Port Mafia wasn't easy. In fact it was hell constant death, suffering, becoming everything you sworn you'd never be. Watching people lose them self and give in into the darkness.
All this at the mere age of 18. You've seen and caused countless, and pointless bloodshed. Taken with out reasoning innocent life's. And each day it was as if you where falling deeper and deeper into this life. An endless cycle of greed and power overrun with violence. You didn't defy the port mafia orders, because at this point you've grown custom to this thing you called life but, it did make you feel this almost unbearable feeling of cold you couldn't shake off. You didn't exactly desire death, but you also didn't see any value in living a life the way you do.
That was until you met him. A boy with the same pains as you. You could tell instantly through his bright yet lifeless brown eyes. But he radiated that warmth you have been seeking for as long as can remember. He shined a bright light over what your thought was never ending darkness with his cheerful and carefree nature.
You once heard one of your superiors say "When the lights too bright, you'll get burned."
But you knew it was all an act, you knew all too well all the bright smiles, carless touches, and words were an act to cover the monster waiting to break free at any given moment. Everyone in the Port Mafia was the same.
No matter what
.
.
.
Soft smile creped on your face when you enter Bar Lupins. You took your usual seat, right next to Dazai.
"Hey there Y/n!" Dazai said with his usual go happy tone while playing with the sphere shaped ice floating about his drink.
"Hey Dazai" you replied softly in-between ordering your usual drink you grown accustom from coming to the bar on regular bases to hang out with Oda, Ango, and Dazai.
Dazai whined while wrapping his arms around you, the warmth and affection you longed for but wasn't genuine, after all Dazai's blood was Port Mafia black, he wasn't a executive at the age of 18 for no reason.
You knew this.
You've seen it with your own eyes.
His heart can't feel love or produce it. At least that's what you believed, you even applied it to yourself. You and Dazai were just attempting to fill the emptiness you felt. Nothing else.
But you couldn't tear your self away from his embrace, it's was like a drug that couldn't temporary ease all the
So soft, so warm
"Awee, Bella donna. Dazai? What happen to Osamu?" Your ran your finger's delicately through his brown locks.
"Ah, sorry Osamu. Where are Ango and Oda today anyway?"
You corrected yourself before taking a small sip of your drink and settling it down where it once was. Dazai propped his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on the palm of his hand while giving you that signature shut eyes smiled.
"There not gonna come, I wanted time to myself with my lady love. You know tomorrow isn't guaranteed for us. so I want to makes the most of every chance I can get my hands on"
He was right, you were aware of either can die or get killed at any time. You just didn't like taking noticing because it felt so much better to cover up and ignore what you didn't like.
"Hey, Osamu, can you promise me something?"
He can hear the hint of uneasiness in your voice. He knew better to point it out and make a deal out of it.
"Of course! What ever it is i swear with on my life to keep that promise."
"Do you promise to never leave? You'll stay right?"
He laughs to hid any trace of pain in his voice "You know I can't do that, after all death is what I desire most in this world! How about, instead we compromise. As long as I'm alive, I'll stay"
You stood up and walked towards the door. He knew his words hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to give you false hope. Right before you reached the door knob you turn around and smiled at him , a soft, grateful, yet sad smile
"That's good enough for me. Good night Osamu"
.
.
.
.
You knew a person was truly honest with themselves when panic was brought among them. Of course you knew this based of other experiences, never yourself.
Until now.
You felt your stomach drop when you heard the news.
Sakunosuke Oda was dead.
Killed by Gide leader of the Mimic. The current case Oda and Dazai where on. You didn't know much but you knew where it all took down.
A million thoughts run through your head while getting to the Mimic head quarters.
Where was he now? Is he okay? Was he with Oda? Where is Oda now? Where they even still there?
You stopped your tracks when you saw the familiar figure walking in the rain you didn't notice until now.
"Osamu!" You called out while starting to run towards him as he turned around.
His bandages where gone. Both eyes uncovered. The sight was so, usual it caused you to stop all movement.
"Osamu?"
You managed above a whisper, he turned around and kept walking away. Then it hit you,
he was leaving
That's when you felt it.
That over whelming panic you seen so often that made you realizes
you loved him.
Your whole body began to shake uncontrollably, the only impulse you had was to chase after him. Your breath began to hitch, your legs didn't work like before, the rain caused you to trip countless times until you finally reached him. and threw your self at his presoaked shirt and gripping on to it with all the might you had left.
"Please, dont go, stay..."
"..."
"You promised Osamu! You said you'd stay as long as you were alive, remember?" You choked out through the sobs, in hopes, just maybe, he'll stay with you, even if its just a little longer.
Your heart beat increased when you felt familiar hands come in contact with yours.
To pull yours away.
"Sorry that all I gave you was false hope, hallow words, and leaving more empty than before. Good bye Y/n."
"W-why? Where are you going?" You tried to keep yourself composed but it was impossible, it was all too much.
"To the good side." he said with the gentlest voice he could manage. He once again started walking away from you. Dammit you should just stop, but
You took hold of his wrist and pled one last time
"Wait, you don't have to stay, I can go, I'll go with you to the good side. I, I, love you Osamu"
He harshly pulled away his wrist away and glared at you, a glare you never seen direct towards any one but people he repent.
"Can't you see? I could always tell what you thought. You never beloved that I actually loved you. You don't think am capable of loving. We just tried to fill that emptiness we both felt. And you were right."
Lies
He was lying. He loved you, more than anything. This is why he's doing this. You were the one good thing he had. You gave him a reason to live. No matter how dark and lost he was you always were the light that guide him. You filled that empty feeling that would always follow him since you first met.
It wont take long for the Mafia to find out about his betrayal. They'll surely come after his head soon after. If you came along, the same fate would await for you. It hurts, it hurts so bad to leave you. But he loved you too risk you in any way. This is something he had to do. There was no way around.
There was so much he yet wanted to say to you. He wanted to thank you, for everything. For loving him, for caring about him, for easing all the pain he held on to for so long. For being so kind to him. But now it was time to go. He won't hurt you anymore, isn't would be fair to hurt you more, after you were so good to him.
Your body finally give in, you fell on your knees. You wouldn't of thought after all your time in the Mafia, you consider a heart break the most painful thing that's happen to you. Such an agonizing feeling it made you body tremble, cold sweat run down your face along with an endless flow of tears from your eyes brimmed bright red. You felt your throat closing until it was from the hoarse yells you let out. This feeling of heartbreak was agonizing to the point you'd wish you could end it along with yourself. You didn't think think you'll ever be okay after this, you felt so shattered, beyond any repair
Maybe, if you hadn't realize too late, things could of been different, just maybe.
.
.
.
.
"The light was to bright wasn't it?"
You stared at Kouyou, your superior
"So bright, it burned till nothing was left. But then it went out just like everything it burned, reduced to nothing."
"You heard Kyouka, if you seek the light, you'll end up like her"
You stared at Kyouka, the same eyes as you, Osamu, and same as his subordinate, Akutagawa. All you could hope is they're never shown the light or filled with hope by empty promises and hollow words.
#bungou stray dog#bungou stray dogs#bungou gay dogs#bungo stray dogs chuuya#dazai x y/n#dazai#dazai oneshot#dazai osamu#dazai x#dazai angst#dazai fluff
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If you're still taking requests!! Fake Dating situation where Newt and Hermann go to a public event together. they're used to being mistaken for a couple at the Shatterdome, so they expect to be mistaken for a couple at the event. But then they meet someone who definitely Does Not mistake them for a couple (because homophobia) and assumes they're just Very Good Friends. cue Newt and Hermann aggressively pretending to be a couple.
always and forever taking requests!!! this is such a fun one, THANK YOU
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“We’ll have to go in eventually,” Newt says.
Next to him, Hermann silently fumes, apparently unable to decide whether to continue tugging at his stiff collar or grinding the bottom of his cane—over and over, in a sort of circle—against the sidewalk, leaving streaks of black rubber behind. “I hate these damn things,” he says under his breath, though it’s unclear whether he means his outfit or the event. Hermann’s dressed up tonight in a suit that’s hilariously oversized (even for him) and fraying in places, with a bowtie that he’s knotted crookedly. Newt wonders if the suit’s a hand-me-down from his brother. “Begging for funding, as if we haven’t anything better to do with our time. As if we’re not working for the better of all of them. It’s bloody degrading.” He works his jaw angrily. “And if that isn’t enough—everyone always makes—assumptions—about us.”
Oh, okay. The event. “Assumptions?” Newt says.
Hermann lets out a hiss of air between his teeth. “Assumptions,” he repeats, delicately. “About—ah—the certain nature of our relationship.”
“Oh,” Newt says. “Oh.”
At the last one of these things they went to, someone (actually generous enough to open their checkbook for once) asked Hermann whether they should make it out to the PPDC or Dr. Gottlieb and his husband. At the one before that, a dinner event, the name placards at their table said Dr. Newton Geiszler-Gottlieb and Dr. Hermann Geiszler-Gottlieb. Before that, at a more casual affair at an up-scale bar, some tech hottie sent Newt a martini, before hurrying over and apologizing in person that (gesturing between Newt and Hermann) he didn’t realize Newt was with someone. Newt really wishes Hermann would just get it through his head already that introducing someone as your partner and dropping the important research part of it tends to hold drastically different connotations outside of, like, the group of people who know them on the Shatterdome base, because that would clear up probably sixty percent of the confusion. If not just so he can pick up a few numbers at these things for once. Still, though—for some reason it’s never really bothered him like it clearly bothers Hermann, but Newt supposes he’s not exactly a catch by any standards, so it makes sense. “I just don’t know where they get the impression—” Hermann begins, and Newt interrupts him.
“Yeah, well, you should take it as a compliment,” he says. “You could do a lot worse than me.” He opens the door for Hermann and ushers him in. “Seriously, we’ll be late if we don’t go in now, and that makes it, like, twice as awkward.”
As usual, they have to sit through some incredibly boring speech about how they’re sitting among some of the best scientific minds of the century right now, how they’re honored to play host to their colleagues at the PPDC, how the buffet will opening shortly for dinner, and then a different person gets up and makes another speech, and then another person with another, until finally the first person gets back up and promises that closing remarks will be in three hours, and how they should all enjoy themselves until then. Claps. Under his breath, Newt says to Hermann, “Doubt it.”
“Which side shall I take, then?” Hermann sighs. He’s probably the only one in the room not clapping. He told Newt a while ago that he doesn’t like to put on airs, and especially not in the service of flattering someone’s ego, and he’ll only clap for a speech if he feels it deserves it. He’s such a weirdo.
Newt surveys the room, considering. Luckily, people tend to flock together in similar little groups at these things. Birds of a feather shit. “Left. Everyone on the right is too young and hip-looking, so that’s out of your range.” He gets a cane to his shin, and grins even has he winces. “Kidding. Let’s just do it together, it’ll make it more bearable.”
Their first target is a forty-something marine biologist who’s very excited to meet Newt— “I followed your research on jellyfish for years!” she says. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight!” —and who is more than happy to promise donating a little to help fund the war effort. Their next is someone younger than both of them, whom Newt suspects is heir to his dad’s tech company or something, and who is easily guilted into promising even more than the biologist. “We’re having a lot better luck than usual,” Newt says, as they watch the kid hurry away to mingle with a group of other twenty-somethings. “Do we look more, like, respectable tonight or something?”
“It’s the open bar,” Hermann says.
“Yeah, probably,” Newt agrees.
“And anyway, we’re still terribly behind on our goal, so there’s no use getting too pleased over ourselves,” Hermann says. He sniffs. “If you still want that bloody—whatever it was—kaiju spleen, we need at least—”
“Okay, okay,” Newt says.
He nods at a small group standing by one of the buffet tables, holding half-eaten plates. People tend to be in better moods when they’ve eaten something. Hopefully more generous moods too. “Let’s try them,” he says.
Hermann is the one to initiate the conversation this time, launching at once into a variation of the little script he and Newt penned so long ago the night before their very first gala. “Good evening,” he says. They get a few polite smiles and nods of acknowledgement in return. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, and this is my partner—” Newt tries not to groan. “—Dr. Newton Geiszler. We’re here representing the PPDC tonight. I don’t suppose we could have a moment of your time?”
The mood of the group changes immediately, but why Newt can’t figure out; it’s like they suddenly go hostile on them. Hostile, and tense. Newt is suddenly astutely aware of how each of the three dudes have a good few inches on both him and Hermann. “The PPDC?” the guy in front says. He's not smiling anymore. Maybe they all supported the jaeger program defunding or something. “Sure.”
“Er,” Hermann says. He clears his throat. “Newton—that is, my partner and I work for the kaiju research division at the PPDC’s Hong Kong base. As you may well be aware, the latest cuts to the PPDC’s budget have been quite dev—”
“So you and your friend,” the guy says, with a little more emphasis on the friend than Newt would like, “are going around asking for donations? To help buy pencils or something?”
“Well. Essentially,” Hermann says. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Newt did, though he grows visibly nervous anyway. Outright hostility isn't anywhere near as common as indifference at these sorts of things. “Though, pencils is—er—a vast understatement.” He casts a furtive, desperate glance at Newt—a help me if Newt ever saw one. “My partner—Dr. Geiszler—simply doesn’t have enough funding for the samples he needs to study—and donations would certainly help with our funding for other necessary supplies—"
“I sure we’d love to help you and your friend,” the same guy says, and there’s no missing the emphasis this time, “but we’re a little busy at the moment. Please come back and talk to us later, though.”
Hermann clamps his mouth shut. Newt narrows his eyes, and in a move bold enough to surprise even himself, snags Hermann’s arm and links his own with it. “Sure thing,” he says loudly. Hermann goes rigid and stiff under him. “Come on, babe, let’s get something to eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry.” Then, before he can stop himself, he brushes a single kiss at Hermann’s cheek, and tries not to laugh at the looks they get.
He waits until they’re out of eyesight (Newt having had to sort of drag Hermann along with him) to drop Hermann’s arm. Hermann hasn’t moved a muscle since Newt touched him, and even now, he just sort of blinks at Newt. “What on Earth—?”
“Dude,” Newt says. “That guy was a total jerk. He thought we were together, and—”
“He did not,” Hermann says. “He kept calling you my ‘friend’. It was a bloody nice break from what usually happens, I might add, and now you’ve gone and—”
“Hermann,” Newt says. He sighs. “You’re, like, totally missing my point. He thought we were together.”
“But he called you—”
“Yeah, exactly,” Newt says.
Hermann blinks a few more times. “Ah,” he says.
“No way in hell do we need his money,” Newt says. “Anyway, sorry about the—” He touches Hermann’s cheek, and then gestures to Hermann’s left arm, which is now just sort of hanging limply at Hermann’s side. “I just wanted to screw with him. I won’t do it again, though—”
“No!” Hermann says quickly. The tips of his ears go red, and he fumbles as he grabs Newt’s arm again. A sudden warmth situates itself like pressure over Newt’s chest, identical to the kind that’s creeping up his wrist where Hermann’s fingers just grazed his bare skin, and he’s struck with the sudden bizarre urge to duck his head and blush himself. Since when has Hermann had this kind of effect on him? “What I meant to say is—” Hermann licks his wide lips. “He might still see us. We ought to—to keep up the ruse.”
“To really screw with him?” Newt says.
“For what other reason?” Hermann says.
Newt forces himself to keep a smooth, neutral expression as Hermann unwinds his arm to lace their fingers together instead, with a lot more awkward fumbling. “Uh-huh,” he says. He remembers how soft and smooth Hermann’s cheek had felt, so unlike his own, which can never seem to hold a clean shave. How nice Hermann's hand feels in his now. He’s definitely going to have to unpack this later. “Yeah, that’s—good idea, Hermann. Let’s do that.”
#newmann#maria's fanfiction tag#Hermann's POV in this fic is just newt touching his hand - REALIZATION#Anonymous
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